#alliette

Nightsky Alliette

From our stacks: "A devil from the so-called 'Grand Etteilla' - a set of Tarot cards originally published in 1789. Etteilla was the name adopted by Jean-Baptiste Alliette (Etteilla is Alliette spelled backwards), a French occultist who was instrumental in the early development of the esoteric Tarot, by which the cards were used for divination purposes. Etteilla was the first to publish a deck purely for occult purposes. This card - number 14 in the Etteilla pack; 15 in the Tarot deck - represents Force Majeure (Absolute Necessity), or the Devil. The Devil is depicted as part Pan, the half-goat god of nature, and part scaly, winged demon. In the Tarot the Devil symbolizes temptation and excess, particularly in terms of earthly desires - in other words, the unconscious, or 'shadow' self."

He came to the manor before Alliette had given birth to Evilie, turns before Abrie herself would be welcomed into this hellish bastard of a city. His former employer...no, master, had been a controlling, selfish man. But when someone feeds you, gives you a warm bed to sleep in at night when you’d had nothing, you learn to keep your opinions to yourself.

Gregoire expected the same here. Why shouldn’t he? Gramond seemed agreeable enough on the surface but they always did. He’d show his bastard ways soon enough, and Alliette would be just as awful, commanding him around the manor like a marionette on a string. Dance for me, little man.

Halone, he was angry back then. But he kept it to himself, resigned to a role in a manor he’d never sit at the head of, forever destined to clean up the mess left behind by people whose lives inherently held more value than his own. That’s how it always went for those like him.

But less than a turn later he’d found himself letting the guard down he’d so carefully constructed. He never truly felt comfortable in Gramond’s presence, even to his dying day, but he came to see Alliette in a different light. Kind, welcoming. All these turns later he still recalled what she’d said to him not even a sennight after he’d been hired. I hope in time we’ll come to see each other as family. What an odd thing to hear from a woman of her station, but it had put him at ease, even if at the time he’d considered it a pretty phrase to quell his uncertainty.

Then Evilie was born and right alongside the joy he felt for her mother, worry crept through him. The closeness he’d developed with Alliette was something that ashamed him, kept him up at nights, worried of a reprisal from a Viscount who’d find their talks over tea and bells spent together in her loneliness unbecoming. And that wasn’t all he was afraid of him finding out.

He’d considered resigning, finding work at another House. By that time he’d proven himself to be a qualified steward and he’d be welcomed with open arms elsewhere. But he’d stayed, compelled to play some role in Evilie, and later Abrie’s lives that their bastard father would never give. His distaste for the man grew by the day, the affairs he drug through the doorstep all but leaving a bloody trail behind him on the carpeting while his daughters went neglected.

So the turns passed, and when Alliette was gone he still remained. Would remain. He’d made her a promise. He watched Gramond choke on his own blood with indifference, realizing he himself would never be a Viscount, would never been seen by others as an equal to the daughters he stood watch over. The man had been unworthy of the role, and now he worried for his daughter more than ever as she assumed the same mantle.

>> title - The Story of Us

>> author - Alliette

>> subtext - no subtext

>> genre - fanfiction

>> mood - just really simple, aesthetically pleasing

>> colors - I was hoping for a mix of yellow, dark green, dark blue, and red? If that looks odd, then just black, white, and grey will do!

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