Ileth’s Joy
This is a piece that I like, and I want to post, but I have conflicting feelings over? I don’t know. I want to post it because I feel it important to Ileth’s story (which...is really neglected). Also, I am currently working on something from Tonlen’s POV and I want to show the differences between the brothers.
Ileth doesn’t enjoy his work.
The revelation comes not long after his brother’s birth. It’s not that Ileth dislikes the people he works with, or that his work is particularly bad. But as the son of a former spirit of joy, he knows when he finds joy in something and when he doesn’t.
Managing doesn’t bring joy, but it does bring other things – like rank and money to do things he does take joy in. It lets him commission artists whom he admires and wear fine garments. He likes the garments and he enjoys the art. His apartment is adequately sized and while his work does not…stimulate him like he would like, it isn’t entirely bad. Complaining about managerial work also seems very impolite considering there are far many worse jobs in the empire.
His work is fine. Just…fine. It’s work.
Ileth discovers baking mostly on a whim. He is in one of the more middling living districts of one of Sylaise’s cities when he sees that a baker is offering a class on baking. It’s really not much to pay and the bakery smells so wondrous that he spends the money eagerly. He attends the class and that is when he finds the joy. It is the best joy he has felt in a very long time.
He pays for another class. And another.
The baker learns his name very quickly. During the seventh class he attends, the baker comes over to check the small cakes Ileth is making.
“These are perfect. Have you been practicing, Ileth?” She asks. Ileth blushes and can’t hide his bashful smile.
“I enjoy it immensely. My brother is only twelve and he enjoys all the treats I can make now.”
The baker, Savrindra, nods and watches him work for a moment before shaking her head.
“You are wasted in management in Arlathan,” she states. He stutters for a moment before hearing the compliment for what it is.
“Th-thank you?”
Savrinda smiles and returns to her teaching station up front. The class finishes a few hours later and they all dine on their fine work for the day.
“Stay a moment, Ileth?” Savrinda asks as the rest of the students begin to file out to the street.
“Yes? Is there an issue?”
“Do you know why I started offering these classes?”
“…To create a new and fun way to bring in extra money?” He suggests and she laughs.
“True, but the biggest reason was to find an apprentice. The past few apprentices I’ve had have been good, but I have not seen someone who, as you said, enjoys it immensely.”
His eyes widen at what she is implying.
“You are truly wasted managing in Arlathan. Consider this an invitation to apprentice with me, here in Samihlan. And before you argue the drop in status, please consider that there is more to life than status. Who is living the better life? An unhappy manager in Arlathan, adorned in pretty robes as a consolation prize for his inadequate life – or a happy baker in Samihlan who gets to do something he loves every day.”
“I…that is…hm,” he struggles for words. He’s only been fully back to work for two years. Tonlen’s first decade had required help and he had gotten to bake and cook and do things he had not known he enjoyed so much. Going back to work had been…like a balloon deflating.
“You have certainly given me something to think about. Thank you, Savrinda, this is…truly a most kind offer.”
Savrinda nods, “Take your time to think it over. Talk to your family, particularly your father.”
He laughs at that, “You know exactly what he will say.”
“I know! That’s why I’m telling you to talk to him. He’s wise, that one. Life is not life without joy. You deserve to love what you do, Ileth, and you bake so well.”
He thanks her more before leaving and setting to think. He really could be a baker? Memae has always wanted him to be in management, the rank is good and affords protections that other occupations don’t. He knows that the artisans are unfortunately closer to the sacrificial block than others.
But should he truly let that fear dictate him denying what he loves to do?
“You should do it,” Papa says without hesitation over dinner.
Memae is very quiet however, still in her way that signals distaste or internal conflict.
“I do enjoy it so much more than what I currently do.”
“That’s wonderful! I am so happy for you!”
“You will be farther away, little one,” Memae says softly, “and bakers are not ranked as you are now. You would have to give things up, change your lifestyle.”
“Perhaps a change in lifestyle is called for,” Ileth muses.
“Do I truly need fancy robes or to have my apartment filled with art that only signals that I am of a status to commission? What am I truly getting out of that?”
She does not need to answer security, it hangs in the air between them all. Papa turns to her and takes her hand.
“Vhenan, our son is saying he has found what brings him happiness. And managers that do not find joy in what they do, pride in what they do…they do not remain there for long. Ileth has the opportunity to choose how he leaves, that is a blessing that not all are granted.”
Memae takes a deep breath and clasps Papa’s hand back, “I know, but it is a mother’s prerogative to worry. Ileth, I want you to be happy, and you are truly a spectacular baker. Go, with our blessing. I am decorating your new apartment in Samihlan, though, do not even try to dissuade me from this.”
Ileth laughs and leans over, hugging her close, “I wouldn’t dream of it. Thank you, thank you.”
