Season of Bloom - 21. Deific Duties

Faes’ flame provided ample light for the group to see by as they left the town. They were on horseback, and the nag carrying the kineticist was surprisingly docile. Supposedly she had been used as a guard’s mount and was used to open flames. It meant he could have his flame out, a negligible amount of energy keeping the light burning on his hood. And it meant that Lapis was spared from having to focus on casting a spell while on horseback.

Behind him, Valerie, Tristian, and Linzi all travelled in a line, their mounts following each other closely in the dark. All three focused on his fire as their only guide in the dark, though Valerie held a blue lantern at her waist as the back of their party. They plodded along slowly, off to find a missing press purchased with stolen money.

Faes couldn’t understand why the halfling wasn’t in jail. If he was in charge, he would have had Linzi whipped for theft and thrown into debtor’s prison until she could pay off the missing money. But Lapis was softer than him, and the opportunity for retribution was lost the moment the amurrun agreed to this fool’s errand.

What were they even doing? Roaming the length of the entire Narlmarch Road to find a missing wagon? It was preposterous, yet Faes couldn’t let Lapis go off on his own. But walking was so boring, and he decided there was only one way to pass the time properly.

“Linzi,” he said quietly, his voice nonetheless carrying to the halfling’s pony.

She was riding beside him a moment later, a tired frown on her face.

“You carry yourself as a Pitaxan. Can you tell me more about the place? I always heard they hated Brevoy, and we’re stuck in the middle of the two.”

“Oh yes, such a joyous place,” the bard said fondly. “Even if they kicked me out. I mean, the place is really just one big den of thieves and scammers, but that just gives it personality. Or, it did, but Irovetti kind of changed everything.”

“Really,” Faes frowned.

“He wanted to make history. And I suppose he did in a way. If Pitax was once a booze den of iniquity, it is now a cabaret. So fancy, and so fake. Irovetti fancies himself as a patron of the arts. It’s why he built the Academy of Grand Arts and paid a lot of gold for the best poets, writers, and painters. Of course, the very best refused to go, but he made do with what he got.”

“Exactly what is this Academy? I’ve never heard of it outside these kingdoms.”

“It’s really… well, I suppose it could be a great place. But Irovetti has absolutely no taste, and he controls everything that goes on in the Academy. A charcoal painter, one of the best painters I’ve ever met, was kicked out because Irovetti ‘didn’t want gray scribbles’. A flautist from Tian Xia, a master in her craft, was sacked for playing too quietly, and from then on, the only instrument allowed was a kettle drum. And I… I was kicked out for what? An innocent limerick? An ‘irreverent’ one!”

The halfling scoffed at the very thought.

“Limericks do have a rather baudy connotation,” Valerie spoke up as they approached the Skunk River ford. “Perhaps you should have hidden the irreverence within a sonnet. I knew an initiate of the Eternal Rose who did that once. She still got caught, but I admired her for trying.”

“Did he order the Academy to expel you personally?” Lapis asked suddenly.

“Actually yes. I suppose I should take pride in that. I was kicked out by Irovetti himself. An achievement to be sure, if not an uncommon one.”

“Would you ever return, if they let you?” Faes asked curiously.

“That is a tough question. For certain, if they sacked at least three quarters of the current professors and brought back the ones they banned, I would consider it. But I also think I do better unrestricted. It’s nice to travel with an adventuring party. Inspiration lurks around every corner,” Linzi smiled. “To be honest, I’m proud to be expelled. If my art was to Irovetti’s liking, then I would have reason to be ashamed.”

“What do you know about Irovetti?” Faes asked suddenly.

It wasn’t an idle question, asked out of a desire to pass time. No, the king of Pitax was supposed to be one of Brevoy’s main outside foes. It would be wise to know as much as they could about Irovetti, especially after that undead kobold Tartuk had mentioned him, and who better to ask than someone who was exiled from Pitax?

“He won his crown in a game of cards,” Linzi scoffed. “At least Cassiel and Lapis both earned their place as barons. It really says as much about Pitax as it does about Irovetti. He’s vain as a peacock, and more than that, he is fiendishly clever. From the moment he entered Pitax, he pulled off such feats that the old city masters just looked on in confusion. More than that, he aspires to be outrageous. Why whore around in a brothel when you can throw on a golden codpiece, host a three week orgy, and strut around like a male Calistria? Maybe he wants to be a god. Worse, he loves to sing. And he makes the guards force people to gather for his shows. Ugh, Shelyn have mercy on their ears.”

“Wait…” Lapis said suddenly, holding up a hand. “Do you hear that?”

The group fell silent, and Faes realized the entire bog was deathly still. A shudder ran through him, and he nudged his horse forward. Lights flickered in the distance, in the wrong direction, and the hollowborn took a deep breath.

“I believe we’ve talked enough for tonight,” he said quietly. “Omestra shouldn’t be too far off now. It would be best to rest there for the remainder of the night. Follow my fire, and do not look at anything else.”

The beds were warm, the walls were safe. It had been over a week since they had last been in Omestra, and already Kiba could see the change in the town. It was growing.

Unfortunately, the inn wasn’t. They were still stuck in a communal room upstairs, six beds waiting for them as the party collapsed from a near full night of walking. The kobold had to get used to the sound of snoring, and not just Khemet’s. The large cat was nearly silent compared to the sounds coming from Linzi. It made Kiba chuckle; the bard was almost louder asleep than she was awake.

Not that he felt like chuckling, as exhausted as he was. And he certainly wasn’t going to sleep alone when he had his pick of bedmates. The kobold crawled into a narrow bed, wrapping himself around a body. He felt Lapis purring as Kiba curled up with the amurrun. A tail wrapped around his waist, not tight enough to restrict him, but enough that he felt it like a warm embrace.

“Wait Kiba. No armour in bed,” Lapis frowned, getting out of bed.

The amurrun pulled the kobold to his feet, grasping the bottom of Kiba’s mail.

“No! Don’t take Kiba’s armour!” the kobold gasped, trying to force the mail back down.

“I’m not taking it,” Lapis reassured him. “I’m going to put it next to Khemet, and he’ll keep it safe for you.”

Caught in a struggle he could only lose, the kobold let the catfolk remove the chain shirt, Apsu poking his nose out of Kiba’s pocket.

“Don’t look Great One. I lost my shirt…” the kobold whimpered.

“You’ll have it again in the morning,” Lapis promised, setting the shirt next to his own bag.

Pulling Kiba back into the bed, the amurrun covered them both with a blanket, nestling back into the kobold’s embrace.

A strange feeling came over Kiba. He wanted to breed Lapis again. It made no sense; the catfolk certainly wasn’t laying any eggs. Why would the kobold feel this way? His body pressed against the warmth of the amurrun, soaking up Lapis’ body heat as they both wriggled under the blanket.

His length peeked out of his slit, tenting his pants just slightly, and Kiba slid himself up slightly, trying to find Lapis’ hole. A hand pressed against him.

“Not tonight. I can help you later, but others won’t want to watch,” Lapis murmured.

It made no sense to Kiba. His entire tribe had seen him breed the elders; it was a sign that he was virile, good stock. But the softskins seemed almost ashamed of breeding, doing it behind closed doors. Still, he knew better than to push Lapis. The amurrun was the softskin leader now, as much as Faes liked to pretend otherwise. Kiba had to listen to him.

And with a sigh, the kobold nestled against Lapis’ back, letting the soft breaths of the amurrun lull him into a deep slumber.

“What are you doing?”

Lapis ignored the sharpness of the voice, his bare feet sliding across the floor as his eyes stared up at the ceiling that hid the moon. His legs stretched, hips swaying in time to a silent beat, his ankh sharing his chest with a star of Desna. Softly, he chanted the names of stars. Taru Major, Taru Minor, Alboras, Cynosure, the heavenly home of Desna. He prayed silently that the Celestial Cats would forgive him for not venerating them properly today; their obediences would be difficult to complete in a room shared by six others.

“What are you doing?” Faes repeated, a growl in his voice.

“You have never seen me venerate Desna? Perhaps you watch me satisfy Bastet and leave,” the amurrun said softly. “There is more to me than carnal pleasures.”

His silver robe raised slightly, a raised scar running across his leg. Veneration to the Lady of Slaughter, a cut deep enough to draw blood, done in confidence and healed after. A dance to the Song of the Spheres, under the stars or speaking of them. There was more to his worship than masturbation under the moon, and the fact that Faes had never realized this spoke much about the hollowborn’s values.

Valerie and Tristian were already gone, their own morning rituals taking precedence over Lapis’ dancing. Kiba watched the amurrun move, a brush running idly over Khemet’s side. Even Linzi had paused in her writing at Faes’ outburst, the halfling smiling as she watched Lapis.

“I didn’t realize you were so devout Lapis,” she said, making a note in her book. “Three goddesses? Do they get offended by you worshipping other deities?”

The amurrun drew to a stop, a light sheen of sweat covering his torso. He took a deep breath, before moving to a chair across from Linzi.

“I don’t believe so. Bastet and Sekhmet are sisters, and while they have their squabbles, they are also different enough that I can worship aspects of both. Bastet is the Sly Enchantress, and she focuses on pleasure and secrets. I believe there is some comparison to the elven Calistria. Sekhmet is a warrior first and foremost, defending the Pharaoh from his foes. But she knows the value of a healing word, and the Lion’s Den teaches both war and healing. Desna is a traveller. I turned to her when I was exiled from An. She keeps me safe on the roads, and the Celestial Cats protect me wherever my home is made.”

“Ooh, you were exiled? Why?” Linzi demanded, her quill poised to take notes.

“It is a long story. But I promise I’ll tell you when we have the time to spare,” Lapis chuckled quietly. “For now, we should see to Shaynih’a, and then continue looking for your press.”