Tempest

⌖ @ara-kadeu

somewhere in diamond territory, a new shop opened. luke’s original plan was to spare the market a small visit. he wanted to buy fresh fruit and vegetables, eat some streetfood and enjoy one of the last sunny days of this year’s autumn, but he got distracted - the shop simply looked too inviting. 

it’s something that comes close to a grocery store, but they happen to have some handmade clothes, too, and he definitely wants to support them. their shelves are full of homemade and handmade things. it’s mostly packaged or pre-cooked stuff, the shop owner seems to be asian and luke soon finds multiple things his mother used to make for him when he was a kid. he gets lost in childhood memories and decides to take some sweets with him. the shop owner greets him with a polite bow and he greets back, decides to continue looking through all the things they have.

the issue is, the shop is quite big, luke gets lost - and finds himself in an aisle full of things for babies. there’s small shoes, clothes and toys of all shapes and colors. 

he’s not planning to get a kid anytime soon and he’s quite sure that there’s no one wandering on earth he recently got pregnant, but the small shoes and clothes are just too cute. he’s in the middle of inspecting a blue hoodie, miniature sized, when he gets distracted by the woman next to him.

“wait a minute..if that isn’t the legendary ara?”

 their last meeting has been quite a while ago, but luke assumes they’re still on a comfortable level, especially since he got back to work and is mostly out of public’s eyes. apparently, the other hasn’t aged a day and doesn’t look that different, but he simply didn’t expect to see her in this area, or rather at this time - not after becoming ace. as a queen, luke had already been quite busy and since it’s early in the day, he would’ve rather assumed her to be at work.

 “congratulations on becoming ace. i heard you got married, too?” it takes the elementalist a while to realize in what aisle they are and he’s not able to stop himself from opening his eyes wide before placing the hoodie back in the shelf. “nooo..don’t tell me you’re pregnant. that’s..that’s lovely! congrats!”

She was supposed to be in a meeting today, scheduled weeks ago with the head of one of the the local guilds. Her mind couldn’t place what the meeting was for this morning. Some proposition to pitch to her, or perhaps they’d been interested in investing in her studio. It hadn’t mattered in the end, for as she went to ask her faithful butler and schedule keeper- the meeting had been cancelled. Due to familial crisis, the hastily written note had said, along with a small selection of dates available for rescheduling.  Ara had chosen a date from the provided list and added words of sympathy in the form of Send word if there’s anything I can do to assist. 

A generic, but genuine, offer. She’d help if called upon to honor it. 

She just hoped that she wouldn’t be asked. 

With an hour or so to spare, the Ace had decided to do a little shopping- something she hadn’t had proper time to do in what felt like ages. She looked in on the little shops that she’d come to know and miss, investigated the new ones that had popped up in her absence. Which is how she came across the new, larger multi-purpose store that had taken up residency in her favorite market. The concept was newer to the faction: a hodgepodge gathering of goods, organized into separate departments, instead of a specialty shop, focusing on a singular trade. 

So far, Ara isn’t fond of it, finding that most of the items were of questionable quality and severely lacking any real artistry. Still, some of the items were redeemable. Like a simply assembled, set of wooden tools, meant for a toddler’s hand. A small, red-twine wrapped bundle that had a trowel, a hatchet (that she’d hide away until Lana was a bit older), and a mallet- all painted in a nature theme with leafy vines and yellow and red primroses. It reminded her of the way Lana did her best to mimic her father, as he hammered away at his projects in their small forge. With a little toy mallet for her own, Hilo could start that training early too. 

A familiar voice drew her attention, and she turned her eyes upwards towards it. She regarded Luke with a smile, her mind providing a memory of Harold saying something about an instructor being back from their sabbatical. She hadn’t put it together yet that it had been Luke. 

His question caught her off-guard, though her features didn’t reflect it. It shouldn’t have surprised her- he’d been gone for years, there was no way for him to have known about all of her major life events. 

Her smile faded. A brow shot up, and her chin tilted down. Her lips pursed for a moment, then slowly, carefully, “Are you implying that I look pregnant?” A steady glare was leveled at the instructor, but only for a moment- then a new smile broke, pleased with her tease. “Do yourself a favor, and don’t answer that.” She chuckled, tucking the small toy into her basket. “The answer is no, I’m not pregnant. Not currently, in any case. Though I was, about eighteen months ago.” The Ace’s smile warmed. “Her name is Lana. And-- thank you.” 

Settling his cheek gently against the crown of Ara’s head, Hilo ignored the stars for a moment as he closed his eyes instead, exhaling softly as Ara’s hand slipped so comfortably into his, interlacing their fingers. To him, this was perfect. A comfort he’d known before but had never dared hope for again, and one that could only build and improve as the years they had together stretched on. Whatever challenges they faced, they faced together, and Hilo knew there was nothing he couldn’t face without Ara at his side.

“Something acrobatic,” he echoed with a clear but amused skepticism. “I already have to put up with one of you flying through the air, does it really have to be both?” Hilo grinned and turned his head enough to press a lingering kiss to Ara’s hair, then turned his attention up towards the stars. He felt small but not insignificant, not with his daughter sleeping peacefully upstairs and his wife settled so comfortably against him, the blessing of a goddess fortifying the red thread of fate that connected their hearts. There was nowhere else that Hilo belonged so much as here.

“Budrelda will still be slandering your ankles on her deathbed. You know this, I know this. Bestram probably knows this.” Hilo slipped his hand from Ara’s, catching her chin to tilt her head back and dot a quick kiss to her lips. He nodded towards the reclining portion of the chair. “Lay back.”

Pushing himself further back on the seat, Hilo waited for Ara to recline before taking her legs in his lap, removing her shoes one at a time and letting them drop to the deck. With a hand under one of her feet, Hilo lifted her leg to press a kiss to her ankle. “Your ankles are perfect, no matter what Budrelda says,” Hilo promised with a slow grin as he lowered her foot to his lap again, carefully starting to massage the stiffness he could feel in her arch. He doubted Ara really took the slights to heart, but the simple fact of the matter was he’d never turn down an opportunity to compliment her. “Besides, with the pile of toys Bestram has made for Lana at this point, I think the Beryls have a net positive in this household. Don’t you?”

He paused, though, thinking of the other day when Lana had managed to splinter the edge of the kitchen table with a fortified rattle. “Some of those might, uh. Be a little passive-aggressive in nature, though.”

Ara had just begun grumbling her agreement when Hilo pressed the kiss to her lips, turning her pout of a frown into a sweet smile. She complied with his direction, scooching back until she could twist and comfortably lean back, stretching her legs out and into Hilo’s ready arms. The kiss to her ankle and subsequent compliment made her laugh, and smile like the fool in love that she so proudly was. 

Much like Hilo assumes, she doesn’t take the slights to heart. How could she? When she has a husband that looks at her the way that Hilo looks at her. A look of love and devotion and awe. A look she mirrored when gazing at him, privately or in public. 

“I don’t just fly through the air.” A half hearted pout that quickly fades into a wide grin as she adds, “Not regularly.” 

And she settles back against the arm of the lounger, closing her eyes so that she could better focus on the loving strokes Hilo applies to her tired feet. Her face scrunches in a wince- but it has nothing to do with the massage Hilo’s giving her. The whole family had been rattled that day, and she’d had to pull a couple of strings to get her favorite carpenter to fix the table the next day. “I think you’re right. We should probably be a bit firmer with the ‘outside toy’ rule.”

She casts a long glance at Hilo from under her eyelashes, giving her toes a happy stretch. “What does he have to be passive-aggressive about? Is it because you’ve been putting in fewer hours at the forge since Lana was born?” Ara shakes her head, dissatisfied with that reason. “It’s not just her fault. Your work with the council would have pulled you away just as much.” 

Ara stopped herself there, careful not to cross any of the invisible lines the lovers had found necessary to place since they both had taken on such influential positions within their home factions. “I think those two both like the baby more than they want to let on.” 

She weighed it, he saw. It was there her potential showed and how his trust was earned and earned again. She, unlike those who dared to hold her rank, thought. It was refreshing, to see thought happening, to see how her focus pulled so lightly on the muscles with her face. His smile softened from that of the joy ending lives not properly utilized gave him to the peace of watching an ally develop, purpose blooming brightly.

He was so tempted to look beyond the veil, into her very consciousness, wanting to see just how her thoughts were coming together, how her ideas were being formed and what memories and images spurred them on. But he instead raised his cup to his lips, keeping himself from that intrusion. That was reserved for those outside the warmth of his care. He would not do so, not to her, not for this. 

A punishment, he heard, tea cup resting at his lips, allowing him to inhale the aroma. He listened still and with each word he could see the thought pattern. He needed not pass within her mind, for it was becoming clear.  A punishment under Diamond laws? His smile curved. Some wrong turn happened in the processing of what was placed before her and then he really wanted to see within her mind. This conclusion, this solution, that she arrived at, he had to know.

A public trial? In Diamonds? He set the cup down and then relaxed back into his chair. “No”, he breathed his answer. 

He let the singular word linger between them while he pulled another treat to his plate, the dark filling as he broke into telling him what awaited him. A small piece he popped within his mouth then continued, memories washing over him, but he appeared unchanged. “The same public that happily jeered you for dating a filthy Club? The very same public that is more outraged that the man responsible for bombing their precious academy is now Ace over the fact that far more died because they couldn’t afford water? You want to hold a trial before them?”

He held his laughter but it was well present on his expression, the widened eyes, the curved lips and the slight tipping back of his head. He was considerably astounded and it brought amusement he knew would not be shared.

“The faction’s last chance at their own ideology was when none of them spoke up when my dear Valentina took control by only her word, and then ripped a whole from her world to eject filth unto my faction. There was no outcry when my faction bleed for it”, he said then opened the draw to his right. Inside he pulled out a notepad, a number written on the front. He looked to Uzuki, holding it up, numbers facing him, who nodded. Joui’s eyes returned to Ara, “And the sum of the damages for rebuilding and burying, this faction has not finished repaying. How much is the value of a life here anyway? Perhaps we should recalculate”, he said then tapped the notepad with his fingers. “But it matters not”, he said then placed the notepad within the drawer and closed it. “For when I take ownership of anything, I care for it, I hold it with responsibility. It’s why I could not wait for repayment in full. Lives still needed to be lived and couldn’t wait while your council agreed how long their suffering should go unanswered, or if the sum I demanded would bankrupt the accounts that already had many holes.”

He finished the last of the treat. “Be not concerned Ara. I will care for Diamonds, for it is indeed mine.”

She resisted the sigh that formed in her chest, with his softly spoken answer. The word final, holding all the authority he’d no doubt spent centuries perfecting. He didn’t offer an immediate elaboration, but she waited, turning towards her tea once again, lest it go cold before she could fully enjoy it. The cup hovered at her lips as he began speaking again, his words inspiring a sharp flash of defensiveness for her family from her. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. She knew they weren’t his words, he was merely repeating them to serve his point. Even if it hadn’t been necessary. 

The delicate cup tipped back, and she took a calming sip of her tea- though she didn’t let it sit long enough on her tongue to taste it. Returning the cup to it’s saucer, she stayed quiet, letting him speak uninterrupted, as he had for her. She wanted to stress that a public trial was not the same as a trial by public, that all she’d meant was a degree of transparency and warning to those would act in such a treasonous way. But his reasonings rendered it moot. And she’d heard that edge around the words enough times- used it herself on several occasions- to know that his mind would not be changed. 

Of course, his words also had an uncomfortable ring of truth to them. As much as her husband’s idealism had rubbed off on her over these past few years, she wasn’t blind to how her people were. Maybe he thought it a weakness of hers, but though she valued fairness over most things, she’d never seek retribution against those that had shunned and turned on her while Valentina pulled the faction’s strings. After all, she knew first hand what cruelties Valentina had once been capable of, especially to those who did not comply and agree with her every word. Ara wouldn’t blame anyone for an act of self preservation, not when she had done so many things just to survive herself. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make them all suffer like she had- she did. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t enjoy watching them squirm for days or weeks or however long it took for her to feel satisfied that they’d learned their lesson- she most certainly would enjoy it. They’d all deserve it, and she’d be in her right as Ace to deal that kind of personal justice. 

But she wasn’t Valentina. Or those that allowed that to happen. 

And she was still proving that to the people who’d been hurt the most from the old council’s neglect. 

If she wanted change- which she wholeheartedly did- she’d have to lead by example. Be above it all, as the male before her had once told her she was. Even if she was little more than a figurehead. 

She was quiet a few moments after he’d finished. Allowing the words the time to settle as they were meant to. Then she met his gaze with a calm look of her own. “I do not doubt you, Joui, you know that.” And it was known between them, the trust she felt for him. She glanced down at her tea, still sitting her hands, her mind still turning. 

“Lana,” She started with a chosen vulnerability, eyes once again lifting to meet his. “will have a choice to make when she’s fifteen. She’ll get to decide who and what she wants to be. Hilo and I promised each other that all we would do to help sway her decision would be to do everything we could to make our home factions worthy of her. To help build something that she can find pride in.” Of course she wanted her daughter to one day chose a matching faction tattoo with her- what mother wouldn’t want to ensure that their child is kept away from fighting and getting hurt? But mother and father were both resolute in their decision to leave the choice solely up to their daughter- leaving the work to them. 

October 25th, 2021

Diamond Faction, The Ace’s Meeting Hall and Gardens

Long, delicate fingers drummed lightly against the white stone surface of her desk. Eyes scanned the neatly written text of a small book that laid open before her. There’d be a meeting of the Ace’s soon, in the coming days, and Ara had wanted to reread her notes from the past few meetings they’d had since she’d joined their ranks. The notes themselves were nothing incriminating, simply her thoughts and takeaways- all of which had been clearly, and precisely voiced. This council had kept her as quiet as they could for so long, she wasn’t about to let them silence her now that she could freely say what she wanted to. 

Reviewing her notes, however, wasn’t the only reason she was here at this hour.

Normally, she’d be at home at this time on a day off from the theatre, enjoying dinner with her betrothed- going over wedding plans or continuing her work on their wedding outfits. But not tonight. 

Tonight, she’d agreed to a very different meeting.

The drumming hand lifted to rub at her temple, the other closing the small book. Ara closed her eyes, just for a moment, to clear her mind. Ease the soft thumping already building behind them. A moment passed and turned into two, then three. Before it could reach four, her eyes opened with a sigh, the only noise in the private room. She lifted the book, sliding it into the drawer she’d taken it out of, locking it back up with the manacrystal she kept with her. 

Then, as gracefully as ever, she stood and took the few steps to the large window her desk had been placed in front of. The newest Diamond Ace had been given an office with a view of the prized gardens. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d walked those gardens for the first time, at the tea party thrown by the then aces. It was often enough that she found herself standing before the great window, as she was now, seeking solace and wisdom and inspiration in the blooms thriving on the other side. Watching a bird or a butterfly flutter about, as if they’d lead her to the answers she was looking for. 

There were no birds or butterflies looking for nectar tonight- the creatures must have had the good sense to find dinner elsewhere. No, tonight, all she had to calm her mind and settle the slow moving knot in her stomach was the swirls of purple and pink and gold of the setting sun. 

The final straw of a letter had reached her that morning, while she was attempting to enjoy a quiet breakfast. Expensive parchment covered in their sigil and written in someone else’s hand, she was going to simply ignore it- as she had with the many, many letters she’d received the past several weeks since she’d been called to her new rank. She wasn’t sure what had changed her mind this time, what made her decide to actually read the letter. Maybe it was that this was the third one in as many days, or simply that she was alone this time in receiving it and therefore had no one to remind her that she needn’t bother with it. 

Or maybe the curiosity had become too much, and she simply had to know what could have been so important for the senders to so willingly pester an Ace about. 

Unfortunately, the contents of the letter hadn’t answered any questions she might have had. But it had that underlying threat to it. 

We won’t stop until you grant us a meeting. 

So, she had. Though in her reply she hadn’t given any options as to when. Simply: Tonight, 7pm or never. She’d gotten a confirmation an hour after sending her reply. 

The sun hung low in the sky, it’s golden light deepening and fading slowly with it. She didn’t need a dial or clock to tell her that it was nearing the agreed upon time. That knot in her stomach twisted again, and she found herself crossing her hands before her, the right gently encircling the bronze cuff on her left wrist. She’d left her wrists and arms exposed for the most part, choosing a silk gown the color of the deep sea, with two long, flowing strips of fabric hanging from each shoulder via gold metalwork in place of sleeves. Gold accents also adorned her ears and the simple pin that held her coiled hair up at the crown of her head. The gown itself simple, understated in it’s appearance, though impeccably tailored to every curve of her body. 

She heard the footsteps in the hall before the door to her office opened, and an attendant stepped in, the door closing behind them. They approached her, but stopped at her desk. 

“My lady, Narae and Minjun Sobong are here for their scheduled meeting.”

A glance back at them, and she gave the attendant a small smile. “Thank you, Kal. You may show them in.”

A nod and small bow and Kal turned back towards the door. Ara turned her gaze back to her window and it’s view, straightening her back, her form striking a regal silhouette against the sunset. The door opened again, and she heard faint footsteps on the marbled floor. The footsteps stopped just before the chairs on the other side of her desk, and she did not turn around to face them. Simply watched as the gold continued it’s slow decent in the sky. 

It was silent for a long few moments, no breathing, no sounds of movement save for a soft rustling of stiff fabric as, she assumed, one turned to look at the other. Then, a soft clearing of a throat, and a gravely voice finally spoke. 

“Thank you, for.. answering our letter and agreeing to meet with us.” There was a slight pause in her grandfather’s words, a placeholder for what she knew was something along the lines of finally. Ara said nothing, and remained still with her back to them. 

Another few moments of silence fell over the trio, somehow more awkward and tense than the last. Then the stern, eerily steady voice of her grandmother- Sobong by blood- cut through the silence. The forced pleasantness of it shrill, like the grinding of metal. 

“We’ve brought something for you. Think of it as a symbol of goodwill.” A pause and a couple of light footsteps. “Between family.” Ara nearly rolled her eyes, ready to fully ignore whatever attempt at a bribe they’d brought- when the unmistakable sound of ceramic on stone hit her. Her heart leaped, jumping to a long abandoned hope.

But still, on the outside, she remained composed. The picture of nonchalance as she finally, slowly, glanced over her shoulder. And there it was, sitting on the desk where her grandmother had placed it. A plainly painted, ceramic urn.

Just like the one she’d been forced to leave behind, all those years ago. The one she’d put the ashes of her mother in. 

The veteran actress did not react, outwardly. Much to the obvious disappointment of her grandparents. Both of their faces fell a fraction as Narae stepped back to join her husband. The corners of her mouth twitched. Though it was unrefined and a little immature, the sight of whatever plan the Sobong’s had thought the urn would accomplish for them, failing, brought her more joy than she’d ever admit to. 

Finally, she turned to face them, her expression still calm. Slowly, she rounded the edge of the stone desk, her footsteps silent as always. She gave the pair a good look as she moved.

Though they still wore the customary outlandishly heavy and stiff clothing the faction was known for, they had aged since she last saw them- though, not by much. With their grey hair and wrinkled skin, they’d always seemed old to her. Sure, they’d aged handsomely. They’d always had that kind of strong bone structure that implied that they both had once been very attractive- in a harsh, strict kind of way. But there was something different in them now- a frailness about them. Like time had finally weakened them. 

But perhaps, a stray thought supplied, it wasn’t that they had grown weak. Maybe it was her. She’d grown stronger. Both in will and in ability. 

Though it took all of her strength, she ignored the supposed peace offering. Rounding the desk until she was in front of them. 

Then, calmly, “May I see them?” Their faces paled and they had the nerve to look confused. “Your markings.” Her tone was firmer now, reminding them that she hadn’t needed to ask. “I’d like to see them. If you’d please roll up your sleeves.” She enunciated the words, leaving no space for a refusal. If they wanted to play a game, they’d play hers.

To their credit, they followed her direction, if more than a little reluctantly. They forced the shining, hard fabric of their sleeves up, far enough for her to see what they knew she wanted to see. A grin broke her serene mask as she took in the new, matching, curse given tattoo they now sported.

MA, with three arrows pointed downward, indicating disfavor. 

They would have gotten them as soon as she was made Ace. Right before the bombardment of letters started. 

“Three really is the maximum, it seems.” She murmured, more to herself than to them. A gentle hand reached out towards her grandmother, the one of them standing closest to her. She traced over her own initials with a finger, the skin it sat on almost translucent, and thin as cheap parchment. “It’s funny, how things turn out, isn’t it?” This time her softly spoke words for them. “All you’ve ever wanted was a Sobong on the council. And yet here you are.. Failures.” Narae jerked her arm away from Ara’s touch and the Ace met both of their hateful glares with her own, and the both of them rolled their sleeves down without a word.

Ara only chuckled, finding their squirming truly amusing. She retreated a step to lean against the desk, and leveled a questioning look towards her father’s parents, fingers lightly grazing the urn beside her. There was no offer given for them to take a seat, and they had the good sense to not assume one would come.

“A gesture of goodwill, yet you use your mana to fill your lungs, instead of actually taking a breath. Why is that?” Her head dipped to the side, curious. Then, a sly smile as she answered her own question. “Scared I’ll grab hold of it and take it away, just as you taught me to do?” The nervous look that passed between husband and wife wasn’t lost on her. It made her laugh, free hand coming up and waving in dismissal. “Oh, I don’t blame you. The thought did cross my mind.” Not to mention she’d thought to do the same thing- use her mana to hide the current her breath would make. “But I made the decision a long time ago: I’ll never be like either of you.”

Neither them, nor she, took a breath. Instead, the Sobong’s stood still, their mouths drawn in matching tight lines. Since neither of them seemed ready to discuss whatever true purpose brought them here, Ara continued, her attention on the urn. 

“The curious thing about gestures of goodwill, is that often- when done poorly- they come all too late. As it is now.” She turned her gaze towards the elder elementalists then, smile still spreading her lips. “It seems you’ve failed at this, too.” 

“We simply thought,” Minjun started, forcing the words out. “that it was high time to put aside our differences-” 

“Differences?!” Ara roared with laughter, cutting him off. “Is that what you call spending near forty years trying to kill your only grandchild?! Differences?” 

“-and come together as a family. You’ve clearly proven yourself worthy of our good name.” He finished, despite her interruption. 

She stared at them in shock for a good few moments. At first, she thought they were joking- they had to be. After so long, they really thought one urn filled with ashes that might be her mother’s would be enough for her to forgive and forget all that they’ve done? Were they so absorbed in their own false sense of importance that they truly thought she’d waltz so willingly into their arms and want to be accepted into their family? 

Another laugh bubbled out of her, the shock of their audacity still making proper words impossible. Because of course, they were really that self absorbed. Her left hand lifted and rubbed at her temple, before falling again as she looked at them. 

“I’m to be married in a few months. It’s been announced, I know you’ve seen it. And yet- I haven’t heard a single congratulations from either of you.”

And there it was, that flash of anger across her grandmother’s rigid face. Narae dropped all traces of the fake sweetness from her voice as she spat out, “Ara, you can’t possible intend to soil our-”

“Ace. Moon.” Ara’s tone, though softer, was equally cold and unfeeling as she cut the old woman off. Narae fell silent. “Though I’d prefer that my name never cross your lips, if either of you must address me or speak of me, you will refer to me as Ace Moon, and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?” The last of the Sobong’s remained frustratingly silent. Ara’s tone turned dangerously quiet. “Must I repeat myself?” This time, she received two strained, solemn nods of understanding. She smiled.

“Good. Still, you did return her to me.” A loving glance towards the urn. “And I suppose you think I owe you something for that. Even if it is forty years late. So,” She turned back to the pair, hands clapping together. “How’s this: I’m going to let you both leave here with your lives intact. Even though, as I’m sure you’ve gathered, I’m well within my right to do whatever I damn well please.” Her eyes hardened as she fixed a look to both of them. “But, I will allow you both to live the rest of your sad, little lives in peace. Well,” she amended, “as peaceful as they can be. I, myself, won’t bother you.” 

The sight of them was beautiful as she spoke. The building anger breaking their thin veil of superiority as they registered yet another failure of their own doing. 

“But only on the condition that you fade away. We are not a family. You denounced me decades ago, and I have neither the time nor the interest in forming a relationship with people who aren’t even half the man and woman they think they are.” Her words dripped a venom she could not hold back. “It shouldn’t be too difficult for you, either of you. You only have- what? A couple of decades left? If that. And you needn’t worry about what will happen after your deaths. The Sobong’s may die with the both of you, but their name won’t be erased. From what I remember, you have many artifacts from all over the continent that the city should find very interesting and educational.” 

She snapped her fingers, the idea popping into her mind all at once. “We’ll turn that grand estate of yours into a museum!” Minjun’s mouth quivered in rage and opened, but Ara didn’t let him speak. “Don’t get yourself all in a huff. You’re too old to survive the possible aneurysm. And it would be such a shame to die now, don’t you think? To fall so short of being average.” She tsked, her head shaking. “Besides, I just told you. I won’t erase your name. We’ll have a plaque made, perhaps.” She was antagonizing them now, she knew that. But she simply didn’t care. After all they’d done to her, to her mother, they deserved it. And frankly, it just felt so good.

They were too scared of her and her new position over them to risk their own reputations by retaliating now. But the sight of them, writhing and squirming with their anger over their own failures was growing tiresome. And Ara longed to take the urn and bring it back home. To the only family she needed. 

“You understand, now, of course, that we are done. You have lost. I’m giving you the chance to leave things as they are, this once. There will be no more chances.” Ara paused, meeting the eyes of the last remaining Sobong’s. She watched as her words sank in, took root within them. “Now, unless you’d like to tell me, once and for all, what happened to your son..?” Her eyebrows rose, expectantly. Only to be met with vile looks and tightly shut mouths. Ara scoffed and shook her head. A hand reaching for a little bell she kept on her desk, and gave it a single ring. Fine. Another mystery she'd solve once they were gone. “Then we have nothing left to discuss.” 

Kal silently entered the room, and approached the Sobong’s. Ara, for her part, stood, urn held gently, safely, in her hands, and walked to the far side of the room to set it on another table. She didn’t spare either of them another glance. “You can both leave. Exit through the gardens if you wish. I doubt you’ll see them again.”

For a moment, she thought they’d fight her, argue. For a moment, they almost did. But Kal ushered them out, in no uncertain terms, and they followed without another word. Just faint footsteps. 

She waited until she couldn’t hear their footsteps any longer, couldn’t sense their use of the mana they shared. Only once it was clear to do so, did the tears prick at her eyes, gathering at the rim. 

Of course! No one gets very far in Kadeu without taking some risks, generally speaking. Ara wouldn't be where she is now if she hadn't taken several risks along the way.

It was a risk running away from the Sobongs.

It was a risk auditioning for The Palace.

It was a risk engaging in a relationship with her now-husband.

It was a risk standing up to the former Ace Valentina.

It was a risk giving birth to not just a child, but a strongarm at that.

She hates to say it, because it's supposed to be this beautiful moment and a beautiful time, but. Babies do a lot of gross things. They come out looking, well, gross. And then they just produce so many gross fluids for the first few months.

‘You’re too good at this, you know that?’ Hilo simply hummed in reply as he smiled, teasing and secretive, but it was no secret why he was ‘too good’ at this: all he wanted was for Ara to be happy. For his family to be happy. He didn’t want the times they were apart to overshadow the times they were together, and he didn’t want to waste the precious years they had on ‘should’ve’ and ‘could’ve’.

Hilo nodded and straightened from his lean, taking only a moment to tend the fire back to embers before closing it behind iron doors to sleep until he needed it next. He was only slightly stiff as he followed Ara to the deck, largely able to ignore it in favor of running the flat of his palm down her back with an easy smile.

“I think that sounds perfect,” he agreed easily, settling carefully down next to her with a quiet whirring of the joints of his bracers, arm slipping around Ara to pull her close again and press a kiss to her temple.

“Whatever that child ends up being later in her life, it’s going to be active.” Hilo chuckled, knowing Ara was already more than well enough aware of this. He already had complicated enough thoughts that she was born a Club like he was, like his family, but there was still a distinct, inevitable pride in the symbol for him. Hilo knew his daughter could be gentle and she could fight, if she chose. If nothing else, he’d rest easily knowing that no matter what, Lana would be able to defend herself.

“How young do they start kids in dance classes?” Hilo mused, figuring Ara would know much better than he as he tilted his head back towards the sky. He only knew at what age a weapon was put in his hands, and it was younger than he wanted for his daughter. That training could always come later.

Ara laughed, an easy and loving sound, before remembering the slumbering toddler’s window was open and the voice of an actor did tend to carry. She covered her mouth with her fingers and glanced back, up towards the window, starring a moment as she watched for any signs of movement, listened for any cries. Satisfied that their daughter was still deep in sleep, she turned back to Hilo with a nod of her head. “You’re right about that. Based on the stories I’ve heard from Alamea, I’d blame you for it, but, well..” she flashed him a grin as she nestled herself into his side. “I think both of our wild streaks are now harbored in that one little body, gods help us.”

She shook her head and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before settling her head on his shoulder, eyes gazing up to the stars above them. A hand found his and she laced their fingers, turning slightly to gape at him. “Rather bold of you to assume that I haven’t already started teaching her the basics. She’s getting the hang of balancing already. And she likes twirling around with me.” A sigh and Ara turns back up to the stars, admitting with a softer tone, “I do think she’d benefit from some formal dance training though. Or maybe something acrobatic.  She’s about old enough to start, maybe in a few more months. Something to help her to learn to be swift on her feet, keep her limber. So she can have all the advantages available to her.” Just in case she needs more advantages. 

With Lana being so young yet, Ara wasn’t ready to fully discuss what trainings they should do with her, to prepare her for any eventual fighting she may do- whether she did it to raise her ranks or to protect herself in the event that the couple’s worst-case scenarios played out. It was something that the both of them had discussed, even if it’d been an uncomfortable conversation on Ara’s part, that their children needed to know how to defend themselves. The city was hash and dangerous enough as it was, and their combined political positions made it all that much more dangerous. No matter what Lana chose to do in her life, there’s always be some sort of target on her back. And there’d be a time in the future when Hilo and Ara weren’t with her. It was the reality they had to live around.

Clowns: Does your muse prefer comedy? Or horror?

The answer is technically both. She prefers acting in horror plays. It's not a secret that she loves the drama of it, and where else is she going to use her skill at crying on command and heart wrenching screams? But, when it comes to simply watching plays, she much prefers comedy. She wants a night to relax and have fun, not a night of nightmares and paranoia.

When it comes to reading, she enjoys both.

Needles: Does your muse have a strong stomach?

Failure: Has your muse ever given up on an important dream?

Just one: Being accepted by her father's family.

She gave up on that when she was 17, in order to pursue bigger, more important dreams. She has no real regrets about doing so.

Number 13: Does your muse believe any superstitions?

Oh, plenty. There are many that are observed in the theatre culture, the more obvious being things like saying break a leg when one is about to go on stage, or the avoidance of saying the name of a certain play. But there are also some that are specific to The Palace. Like the beautiful, sapphire robes that Ara wears around backstage. It's passed down from leading lady to leading lady, each adding something to it- an embroidery or a pocket, Ara added some silvered lace trim to the sleeves. It's all symbolic of the passing of good luck and fair reviews. No one but the current leading lady is allowed to wear the robe, for fear that generations of talent be given to someone undeserving.

This expression, this view of him within her eyes. He held to it, eyes focusing deeper yet. He need not wonder what that expression meant, need not question such a gaze, and he certainly didn’t need to walk within her mind for clarity. It was there, questioning the weight of his expectations. 

And more, maddeningly so, a question birthed of comparison with refuse. Indeed, Ara served a purpose. He hoped for his wishes for Diamonds to be carried out by her hands and then her kin. For while he would live as long as he pleased, he was aware the constraints of her own lifespan. No matter the wealth in her as an ally, there were limits. 

“Now do not cast that gaze, my dear”, he spoke lifting his left hand to pass the hair along his jaw. “You misunderstand”, he said, hand lowering back to his lap. “You cannot be compared to Harold”, he said lining the man’s name with the disdain he felt. “His worth is to show his own people how little their leader’s care for them truly. While they slandered me and mine yet have done worse.” He eased back to the table and sighed. “There are questions of how far we will walk within this journey, yes,  but your love for your own people and your understanding of when action is most necessary, sets you far above that insect who will see to his own end. That is a matter of when, and soon, I assure you.”

His eyes passed another treat while she reviewed the folder. He pulled it to his plate breaking it open to see a different filling. His eyes shifted to Uzuki who met his gaze with a nod. His eyes looked away but broke piece into his mouth. This was no peach, nor fruit from this realm. Its flavour was less sweet but lingered, showering him with nostalgia, his head going back into his chair, eyes closing. 

Her question made him laugh, that alone being the answer given, for if it concerned banking, there was nothing he could not know. 

Eyes still closed, he floated along the memories of this blend of fruit and bloom. He saw his own youth and then, his son, his precious Izayoi. And oh how that yearning ripped through him. 

His eyes opened, tea meeting his lips, then cup placed down again. “Have they not always stole from the unfortunate”, it was not a question. “How much is Academy tuition? And private tutelage? And preparation for final exams that are changed on a whim? Lets not forget box ownership at the palace? Or dyed premium manabeast fur,” he passed from his lips, sourness dripping from every word. “The premier society”, he spat sharply, “That was the description of the world Diamonds aimed to build after the fall of the monarchy. Built on the best of society, doing what was best for all”, he breathed with sarcasm.

Again his gaze set upon her, pushing away the irritation he felt being away from his child knowing what he built was to be given to him. In that he found some peace. “What should be done Ara? I cannot continue mascaraing all that steal from me”, he said then grinned, his lips curving and saying he very well could do so, he would very much even enjoy doing so. “I can”, he said, holding his smile, “replace the pilfered funds with my own and let the culprits feel as if they have gotten away with it. Perhaps new deposits have covered their scheme, whatever.” His right hand lifted and passed through his hair, “they are, as you say, lacking proper intelligence and may very well believe it. And then when they steal again, for I am sure they will, what then? Can I string them up by their entrails? Give them to Syuusen for a toy? Oh wait, I suppose that counts as massacre doesn’t it?” He asked leaning his head into his hand with a pleased chuckle.

A degree of shame fell over her. A shame that the whole of the faction would likely have felt- did feel- whenever the original ideology of the faction was brought up. The current state and workings of things in the Diamond faction was in blatant opposition to the words and ideals of their ancestors. Oh of course, the city’s perceptions of the faction were carefully cultivated and maintained. But as the saying goes, beauty is often only skin deep. And so too, was the sense of real community amongst those with the Diamond tattoo on their wrists. 

Ara sighed, flipping the folder closed and lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. She heard him talking, her mind absorbing the words, but she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to comment on Joui's musings. Or share any enjoyment at the images they gave. 

“A punishment must be dealt, I agree, obviously. We have laws. Stealing is against them.” She was stating the obvious, not for anyone’s benefit, but to simply help organize her thoughts. As tempting as his other offers were, there had to be a different way. The faction- no, the council- couldn’t afford to have the Ace of another faction swoop in and deal their version of justice again. It would too severely undermine what authority and leadership they actually still had. 

She knew that her thinking was at least partly out of pride- Hearts taking a lead in this would make the faction as a whole look weaker to the rest of the city. She didn’t want to think about what that would lead to. But the train of thought spawned an idea: As a Diamond, who herself had an image to maintain, she knew the lengths the elite of her faction so commonly go to maintain personal perceived reputations. And knew how easily a nick on the petal soft armor those false reputations had could lead to a sudden and devastating downfall. 

The hand at her eyes lowered and she met Joui’s eyes with a proposal of her own, even as she was still forming it. “We should hold a public trial. They were foolish enough to leave evidence of their crime, and I trust Rochelle to take that evidence and do what her job demands. I know the rest of the council may not be fully on board, but frankly, that doesn’t matter. An example must be set. For them, and the rest of the faction.” Her tone was steady, resolute, as she spoke. “Let the council and those who share in their hypocritical and self-serving opinions see that no longer will the crimes and indiscretions of those who can afford to bribe be met with private slaps on the wrist and the clearing of records.”

“The public deserves this transparency, and those that break the law deserve to be publicly shamed and have their precious reputations ruined. The public needs to see that their leaders will deal the punishments a crime deserves.” Then, softer, with a glance at the folder still resting in her lap. “Especially in this case.”

She was quiet for a moment, still in thought. The words still echoing in her mind.

The best of society, doing what was best for all.

"The faction deserves one last chance at living up to our own ideology. It's not the general public's fault that their leaders have failed thus far. Though," she smiled up at the Fae male then, amusement edging her words. "I'm not opposed to adding toy for Syuusen as an appropriate sentence. They did attempt to make a fool out of you and your institution. That must also be dealt with. And he deserves a new toy."

Her smile faded with a sigh and she took a sip of her tea, letting it calm her. She watched the colored liquid swirl for a moment as she set the cup back down. "We must think of preventions too. It's clear too many hands have access to these accounts. Sloppy as the execution was, it was still too easy for the theft to occur."

The Unknown: Does your muse have a deity they believe in?

Yes! In general, Ara's always believed in and respected the gods, thanks to her own mother's devotion to them. But it wasn't until Airang of 2021, when Aphrodite appeared and gave her and her now husband the blessing of a goddess, that she started practicing her own devotion.

While she, herself, only prays and makes offerings to the shrine the Keahi-Moon's have for the goddess of love, there are two alters in their household. Ara has never seen or heard Fuku, but believes what Hilo has told her about the god, and gives the upmost respect to him and his shrine- protecting it from Lana's terror, sharing words of thanks when she feels the energy around it, offering her help when her husband tends to it, ect.

Mirrors: What is your muse’s least favorite thing about their appearance?

Nothing. It might be vain, but Ara likes every bit of her appearance. She always has. Even the scar along her back brings nothing but pride to her. There was a brief time when she was near the end of her pregnancy, and a few months after giving birth, that those feelings wavered. Her body went through changes and a bit of trauma, and her measurements changed, some permanently. But that's only natural, and with the help of Hilo's doting and assurances, she's come to see those changes as a form of wonderous strength.

The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a mana nightlight as a child?

Answered here!

Death: What does your muse consider the worst way to die?

Dying alone. Though she's always had this feeling of loneliness deep within her, Ara has always surrounded herself with people to keep it at bay. And now that she has her own family, she's more sure than ever that she wants her family and loved ones to be around her when her soul leaves her.

Ever the planner, she intends to make sure that her family and loved ones, the ones that will or might die before her, are surrounded by the people they love when their time comes to an end. It's a kindness for both the one in the deathbed and those they'll leave behind.

Sayge was no star of The Palace, but she glowed with the sparkles of a magical creature from the tales children would hear in their bedtime stories. The stories that told the adventures of those who risk crossing the river, of princes and princesses, the fairy tales that Sayge was made of. Each step of hers was a symphony, especially after her change of hue. As red got a hold of her and her already striking presence became breathtaking, not because one couldn’t breathe at the sight of her, but because her imposing presence screamed at the top of its lungs that she could twist necks with a glance if wronged.

Yet, Sayge walked down the white wooden floors of the studio’s foyer. This being her first visit to Wing Theatrics since its opening. For she had waited for this moment for long, and to meet the owner, a Queen no more but an Ace, after not sharing a moment together for longer than the Fae had wished.

A known admirer of the fine arts, Sayge had not missed one of Moon’s plays when she was the brighter star on the stage. It would have been an offense not to bring her luck under the roofs of Ara’s new challenge and bless her friend’s studio with her touch of good fortune.

As the Heart approached the entrance, she heard a voice, alerting of keeping her grand arrival to herself. Pushing the door with delicacy to walk in and join the acting class. Her presence stood out against the white walls of the building. Hugged in scarlet garments, so light and delicate, as if they could barely keep from sliding down her skin, but held in place by golden embroidery, Sayge looked like what she was and had finally embraced, the empowering presence of Saaka, Sayge.

The one in the middle of the presentation, with words almost falling from their tongue but doubting if they’d dare once the Fae’s presence joined the room, found their breath back once Ara’s wave allowed them to stop. With regret, Sayge clicked her tongue, she had wished to see more, to see the emerging new stars twinkle.

“There was no need to stop the student, my dear. It was my hope to get a hint of what I would see on the stage someday. Of course, only if you,” Sayge didn’t stop her walk while her eyes fell on the student, “are good enough.”

Ara’s smile, though true, was small as she welcomed her friend to her side. “I did not give the order to stop.” She said simply, eyes turning back to who should have been the star of this particular lesson. The elementalist in question had enough good sense to look resigned and apologetic under her gaze. “Actually, you’re providing an excellent opportunity to practice the first lesson they were taught. And for that, we thank you.”

She kept her tone even, hiding away the disappointment she’d felt at the initial failure. The corners of her mouth remaining slightly upturned. “In any of the theatres along this block,” The Ace made eye contact with each of her students as she addressed them, ensuring that they took her words to heart. “especially at The Palace, you will encounter at least one of the greatest challenges an actor can face: beautiful people in all their fineries, or people who have such natural charisma that it simply radiates from them, drawing the attentions of all near by. Or, as is our case today,” Ara’s smile widens briefly as she looks towards Sayge. “someone who possess both.” 

Turning back to her students, grateful that all eyes snapped back to her as she did so, Ara continued. “But those challenges are a part of the job description. So.” A soft clap of her hands, “What’s an actor to do, hm?" She fanned her arms open, signaling that anyone could answer her question. Movement drew her eyes to the student still standing. She gave them a small nod, encouraging the answer. 

“Get it back.”

Ara’s head bobbed in a deep nod, a soft, “Correct.” escaping her lips. “It doesn’t matter what a patron is wearing, or how they look, or how popular they are. Your job, as an actor, is to remind your audience whom they are there to see. The ability to stand on that stage in nothing but rags and be fully in command of the attentions of a sold out auditorium is the mark of a good actor.” 

She paused to let the words, the lesson they’d already been taught, sink in. One of the younger girls, sitting in the semi circle before them, met Ara’s eyes with a question. The Ace dipped her head slightly to the side, allowing the girl the space to ask. “Is that not the mark of a great actor?” 

Ara smiled softly and shook her head, her tone even softer as she answered, “A great actor rarely has to compete.”

She turned her attentions back towards the still standing elementalist. “Let’s not disappoint our guest. Take a deep breath, clear your nerves. And start again- from the beginning, if you please.” 

And they did. With a near perfect pace and dictation, the elementalist performed a tragic scene: The monolog of a person descending into madness, going through several emotional stages as they realize what’s happening to them. Despair, justification, jaded anger, acceptance in a gothic romance sort of way- all culminating in a frantic, desperate plea to regain the sanity they’d already lost. 

A chorus of emphatic applause erupted as they finished the scene, lead by the proud instructor herself. “Excellently done, Tuuli! You should be very, very proud of that performance.”

The Dark: Did your muse sleep with a mana nightlight as a child?

No, her mother couldn't afford it. But she wouldn't have needed it even if they could. Ara and her mother shared a bedroom for most of her life while her mother was alive, so she never worried about monsters in the night. It wasn't until Ara started at the Academy that they could afford a two-bedroom flat, and by that time, Ara was too old to be afraid of the dark.

Dolls: Has your muse ever collected something?

Yes! Ara collects three things:

Pegasi, in any form.

Romance novels.

Falling: What does your muse think about falling in love or commitment?

Well.

Judging by the ring on her finger, and the child that could snap her in half- it's safe to assume that she's a big fan of the whole idea of love and commitment.

She's always been a lover of love and everything to do with it. Sweet thoughts, sweeter words, even sweeter acts- all in the name of love. What's not to like?

Even though she didn't see herself truly falling in love, before meeting Hilo, she always thought the search of someone to prove that the act of falling in love was more than just the invention of a poet, always seemed a worthy and noble use of time.

Change: What was a turning point in your muse’s life?

The first time she had to use her mana to kill someone in order to save herself.

She realized the full extent of the foulness that filled her paternal grandparents. Realized the failings and lies of family. And what it meant to be truly alone.

Happily! Ara is a fan of all manner of animals and beasts. However, while it's very well known that she loves pegasi, she'd never call them pets. She does not consider Prim a pet either. A pegasus, like Prim, would be considered a companion.

For pets though, there's been a few mana-beasts that she's worked with that she's tried to adopt, but they were already bonded with their trainers. She didn't have pets before getting married only because her schedule did not allow the time to make sure someone was home to love them, not just take care of them.