23 OEW (1/2)

Out of boredom, Orison started fidgeting with the orbit of the black crystals in his space. Though they had grown in number they still kept a circular trek around the empty space where new ones appeared. Putting single ones back in the middle, they would stay there for awhile before drifting back out into the orbital ring.

When he took the two crystals that belonged to the mages he killed and placed them back in the middle at the same time, something strange happened. Instead of drifting back out, they stuck together like weak magnets. Taking the other Ashlander ones that gave him large crystals as well, indicating at least a small amount of magic potential, and forced them to rub and slide against each other with the mage ones. As he watched, a sharing of the magnetic quality occurred.

The longer they slid against each other the more magnetism they produced until they started sticking instead of sliding. Eventually, Orison had to use stronger amounts of will and even bare trickles of magic to manipulate them to continue sliding. Think it was an interesting way to train sustained control, Orison put it on autopilot while attempting other tasks. In the middle of hand walking, Captain Nadir came in and caught Orison, causing the boy to crash into a tray table that was thankfully empty.

Red faced and acting nonchalant, Orison said, ”What's up?”

Struggling to keep stony professionalism, Nadir said, ”Madam Fvaris has been granted leave to speak with you, in private. As a concession, both your mother and I will be waiting outside the room in the event you may need us. Exercise as much prudence and decorum as you are able, legate-in-training.”

Nadir led the boy to Droya's personal office where she and the most physically intimidating Ashlander Orison had ever seen, were waiting. Judging by Droya's nervousness and the barely contained hostility within the Ashlander guard, it must have been a rough meeting. Drawing from Nadir's calm reassurance, Orison stepped in and the Ashland guard closed the door behind him.

With the extreme, if contained, emotions of his mother and the Ashland guard, Orison hadn't expected to set sights on a kind and gentle looking granny. As they locked eyes, Orison's evaluation did a 180 as he gazed into cold, glassy and emotionless orbs. Images of creepy dolls and sharks flit through his head as he made a formal bow and was gestured into the visitor's seat. Trying hard to give her the benefit of doubt he didn't think for an actual moment she deserved, Orison forced himself to ignore the irritation of seeing this old monster sitting in his mother's chair.

The dowager gave Orison a warm smile that never reached the stygian abyss of her eyes, as she said, ”Since it's just the two of us, young man, you may call me Granny Xia if you like. It would gladden my weary heart if you did.”

”You have one of those?” Orison thought.

Giving the most angelic smile he was capable of, equally insincere, he said, ”Oh, that would be nice, Granny Xia. I don't remember my own grandmother but I hope she was as amazing as you are.”

The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened in a parody of delight as she said, ”A natural charmer and so talented for such a tender age. One might almost think you were an old Master Mage who stole a youth's body.”

Orison inwardly cringed, desperately hoping the old witch hadn't noticed anything, then said after a nauseating giggle, ”Granny Xia, you must like fairytale stories too. I hope I can be as full of life when I'm a grandpa. The other jealous grannies probably whisper bad things behind your back all the time, like that you practice forbidden necromancy and other nonsense. But don't worry, Momma Yaya tells me it's bad to repeat gossip, especially ones that would cause people to poke into other's private lives.”

In a moment that passed so fast that Orison was almost convinced it was his imagination, Dowager Fvaris' smile seemed brittle as she said, ”It's good to heed your elders. It's told to our children from a young age that loose mouths will cause illness and disease to fly in and that the ancestors will spirit bad children away.”

When Orison readied himself to make a witty riposte, his chest felt tight and hot for a second before returning to normal. Thinking of yet another morning of greasy and barely edible sausage he had that morning he readied himself to speak again.

In a convincing parody of concern, the old woman asked, ”Is something the matter, dear?”

With a great deal more genuineness than he meant to, Orison said, ”You'd think a kid wouldn't have to worry about indigestion but I swear, if I get served Centerland style greasy clot sausages one more morning in a row, I'm going vegetarian.”

The old lady snorted, ”Good luck with that. The only greenery that's growing around us in abundance right now are grass and weeds.”

Astonished, Orison said, ”Are you serious!? I don't have a lot I can compare it to but the surrounding sea in this area has more prolific and edible plant life than I can easily count on my fingers and toes! That volcano of yours may have done a number on the land but it's enriching of the soil, both above and below sea level, will turn this place into the apex capital of agriculture in a year or two. Given, you'll have to invest heavily in hearty trees to make windbreaker lines and plenty of labor into irrigation of your natural rivers to get better spreads of continual moisturized soil during dry spells but...”

As the minutes trickled by, an irritated boyish exclamation filtered out of the room. ”You can fact check every word I have said about these three oil producing trees in THAT SAME BOOK by the Vale geomancer you just quoted!”

When the Ashlander guard opened the door in angry concern, Xia glared at him and said, ”Did I shout for rescue, fool? No, don't close the door on me! Get my worthless Grandniece to bring me the archipelago map and my stationary.”

Twenty minutes later, Orison peeked his head out and said, ”Mom, can I get a pot of black tea and some of the seaweed wrapped crackers. I know that we haven't gotten it quite right but she can get the gist fro-”

Xia cut in, ”And a pillow. How can you tolerate sitting in this travesty of an office chair? It's torture.”

A little over an hour after that, ten minutes after midday meal was served, Dowager Fvaris came hobbling stiffly out of the room and said back at Orison, ”Your incessant drivel about the negatives of slave based economy has given me a headache but I'll grant you two points. History does support it's not usable indefinitely so I'll compromise with thought on redemption practices. And it's true that a minimum fair wage practice with this 'migratory visa' combination would be more cost effective after we work out the wrinkles over security issues but don't expect things to change quickly.

”Legate Droya, the fishery is no longer a point as long as your son comes to New Fvaris for a few days to help some fisher teams learn how to 'sea farm'. Mainly because I'll need that crew of malcontents to start a- sea mustard was it, Orison?- bed. As far as the embassy issue goes, I'll draft a letter along the lines of accrediting some agricultural merits to your son as the reason for desiring the promotion but say that until I get a trained Legate who I can thoroughly trounce fairly, further long-term negotiations will have to wait. To be clear, that means New Fvaris will only accept information and trade documents that cross your desk. Learn to enjoy your post office status, dear. Politics will only make you old before your time.”

Droya curtsied gracefully and said, ”I greatly appreciate your understanding, Dowager Fvaris.”