BoyBandsDramatisPersonae/JoshisExaltation
Joshi's Exaltation
"What is it, Lytek?" The Unconquered Sun appeared with a shower of dazzling light that made even the Daimyo’s brilliance seem dim. And considering Lytek was a being sculpted entirely from solidified light, that was no mean feat.
“The new Exaltation, my Lord. I had a…suggestion.” The God of Exaltation gestured to the scrying glass in front of him.
The glass held a moment frozen in time. The stage of this scene was a veranda overlooking the beautiful beaches of An-Teng. fragile-looking young man knelt before a Dragonblooded noblewoman of impeccable breeding, the elaborate mon of House Cynis behind her. His honey-gold eyes were full of fear and despair. Another boy, perhaps a bit younger, knelt at the woman's right hand, robust where the other was frail, golden-skinned where the other was fair, golden curls contrasting with the other's wispy black tresses, striking blue eyes fixed on the other with smug malice. Both were dressed identically in jewel-bright fabrics, fine enough for either of them to be mistaken for a young noble were it not for the golden slave collars adorning their necks.
”Doesn’t look like much, does he?”
“That’s partially the idea, Lord. I know you were a bit…concerned…about Asaimizu.” A low groan was the Sun’s only response, and Lytek took that as permission to continue. “Do you remember Gentle Rain of Rathess?”
“Of course. She was one of my wisest children.” His Lord’s voice held a warm note of pride.
“Indeed. My thought was to perhaps leave…more of the original personality than usual. I believe this one,” he gestured to the pale young man in the mirror, “…to be tractable enough to serve as her host. Unorthodox, to be sure, but such wisdom would be needed to counteract Asaimizu’s…ah…”
“Stupidity?”
“If you wish, Lord.”
A pause. “Very well then. Proceed.”
"’Goodbye,’ Mistress? Forgive my impertinence, but I don't understand." Despite the fear in his eyes, the young man's voice remained steady and pleasant, and above all, respectful. He had, after all, been trained well. "Did my performance not please you and your honored guests?"
"Quite the contrary," another voice answered, melodious as an aria played on flutes of human thighbones, drifting onto the veranda from the chateau proper. Its owner followed, garbed in fine raiment of glittering fish scales edged with whisper-soft sea foam. This one had not the terrible beauty of the true Fae, but he was marked by their features nonetheless.
The response of the two slaves were immediate and instinctive as both bowed low, foreheads touching the floor. "How may we serve you, Gracious Lord Ainame?" the slaves' said in unison, voices in perfect harmony. They had been trained well.
"Rise." The Half-Fae's voice was thick with boredom. They did, again in unison, keeping their eyes lowered. "Nightingale," he said to the dark-haired youth. "Look into my eyes."
"Yes, Gracious Lord." Again, the young man called Nightingale's voice was steady, but it took every ounce of the discipline that had been drilled mercilessly into him for nearly twenty years to keep it so. Even those who knew little about the Fae and their appetites knew to be terrified when one has attracted their attention.
"Your performance before our honored guests was indeed impeccable, Nightingale," Cynis Falen Asuko responded coolly. "Perhaps the best you have ever given, in fact."
"Thank you Mistress," Nightingale responded obediently. But since he had not been allowed to look away, his eyes remained on Lord Ainame. It began to grow strangely warm on the veranda, and from the corner of his eye he saw the jade mon reflecting a golden light.
"Lord Ainame was so pleased with your performance, in fact,” his mistress added, apparently oblivious to both the heat and the light, "that he expressed a wish to purchase you for his mistress. I'm sure you know of She of the Seven-Hued Pearl?" she did not wait for him to answer. "Of course you have. Very influential. Very rich. Oh, it will be a shame to lose one of your talents, Nightingale, but he was very…persuasive. And besides," she cooed with a dismissive flick of her wrist, turning to the blond man at her side. "Canary's countenance is so much more suitable to this land, don't you think? Pale and raven-aired was lovely for my retreat near the Imperial mountain, but these golden beaches require a warmer palette in one's attendants, wouldn't you agree, Canary?"
"Of course, Mistress." Canary's voice, a low baritone to Nightingale's tenor, answered promptly and not a little smugly.
It was quickly becoming unbearably hot. Lord Ainame was speaking to him again. “My mistress was gracious enough to allow me to taste some of your fear before your delivery, so I shall tell you of the fate that awaits you. She shall begin by taking your voice. It shall be given to the coral gulls that attend my lady, so that they may sing her praises from…” The fate of each piece of his body and soul was recited in turn, but more and more words were lost as the sound of a roaring conflagration filled his ears. Mela, help me, I'm burning alive… Dimly, he was aware of shouting, cries of “Anathema!” and worst of all, his own voice howling in mad laughter before searing pain lanced through his brow and Nightingale knew no more.
Lytek, watching the evens from afar, started so badly he sent the scrying glass shattering to the floor. "Impossible! A Night? Gentle Rain was a Zenith!" he roared, striding furiously to his collection. He stopped, calming himself with a deep breath. It would not do to scatter the precious shards within in a careless moment of temper.
"Lord Lytek? I heard a commotion. Is everything all right?" A Celestial Lion's brow was furrowed deeply in concern as he regarded the shards on the floor.
"I'm fine. Get someone to clean this up," he barked, and the Lion disappeared as quickly as he came, roaring for a servant.
Turning back to his collection, his fingers found the proper drawer quickly and easily. There, in its appointed place, the shard of Gentle Rain, untouched by the modifications he thought he'd sculpted so carefully into her soul.
"Then who…?" he muttered softly to himself.
A gesture brought the mirror upright again, glass repaired in an instant. Another brought the frozen moment of the youth's Exaltation back again. There was a long moment of silence as he studied the young man's new aura, its subtle motions as distinct as any fingerprint.
"Oh. Oh dear."
Some months later, what might have been a young man blinked out of a daze as he beheld the ancient towers of Nexus for the first time since childhood. He was clothed in the tattered remains of what may have once been fine silks, his hair matted and filthy, his feet bloody and torn from endless days travel. A build already thin was now emaciated and nearly skeletal, shoulders bearing the scarring of a slave collar, long since removed. A magnificent guitar hung from his back in stark contrast to his ragged bearing, carved delicately from rare woods and inlaid with fine jade. The strings shone with a color that was more than gold.
Joshi, he was called back then, he remembered. Other things he didn't. How he'd gotten here from An-Teng, for instance. Where he'd gotten the guitar. When and how he'd rid himself of his mistress' collar. How he’d managed to avoid the Wyld Hunt. In fact, anything at all since he’d leapt from his mistress’ veranda. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed.
He remembered the cries that night. Anathema? He was a demon, then? But thoughts of metaphysics and morality were pushed aside by the knawing hunger in his belly. Well, if there was anywhere a demon could shelter, he supposed, it was Nexus. And even a Demon had to eat. Just a couple more miles and he could finally rest a bit. Gods knew how he got so tired in the first place. Best not to think about it.
And how hard would it be to find a job here? After all, he had been trained very well.
"Your move, dear." Jupiter's voice held only a trace of impatience.
"I am aware." The Unconquered Sun brought most of himself back to the Game as he considered the board and his current opponent. Odd, there was something about her expression... "Why are you smiling like that?" he asked with idle curiosity.
A deep chuckle was her response. "I am the Maiden of Secrets, love. I always smile like this."
"True."
And so the Game played on.
