Nestled deeply within a ring of coral walls, the Lower Market seethes with activity - as vibrant and colorful as any living reef.
Boisterous hawkers offer up the sea's rich bounty; sponges, squid, crustaceans, and fish of every shape and size. Makeshift kitchens allow patrons the benefit of a quick meal, each serving as a tiny community of people. Daring fish dart around these diners, ever-hopeful for a spare morsel. Nothing goes to waste here.
Beyond the food stalls, dozens of shops of every ilk and size crowd together - their owners vying for business. Clothiers, jewelers, pharmacists, repairers, toy makers, wholesalers, and more. Like deep-sea predators, they use their wiles and glamour to lure in the unwary, siren voices leaving people confused and lighter in the purse. The cramped space drives some to attacking each other - exchanging harsh words that question parentage and intelligence. Patrons simply smile and enjoy the posturing show, rewarding those with the inventive vocabulary.
And so, as Edan drifts through this tide of humanity, it's odd that a singular voice rings out over them all. A siren call, otherworldly and delicate, woven with exotic words and harmonies.
When he rounds a corner, he discovers a small crowd circling a dark-haired woman and a young, male street musician. Although dress in Rebman garb - a sheer dress of sea-mist green - Edan immediately realizes she is from the Above. Smooth olive skin, and hair as dark as volcanic ash. As she sways in time to the music, the water around her lithe body shimmers almost imperceptibly, not unlike a hydrothermal plume. There's also something... familiar about her, a ghost-impression that nags at the brain.
When her song ends, the crowd applauds, offering up money for the performance. She politely waves it off; instead, making certain all the monies go to the young man. They briefly exchange pleasantries before she disengages and steps back into the crowd.
It's then her forest-shadow eyes find Edan.
A curious smile curls Silhouette's lips, recognizing another Outsider.
It is an easy task; for the man she sees is as out of place here as the burning sun. At first glance, he could be a twin to Bleys or perhaps Brennan; but his skin is a cinnamon brown, and he is as thin as if the sun had burned all the water out of his body. His eyes are a bright, molten gold. Even in the scaled shorts that are so commonly worn by Rebman men he is out of place; but he carries himself with the hauteur of a prince. Those curious passers-by drawn by the sensation of this alien man look their fill and then quickly move on, proving that he is certainly not the first remarkable foreigner in their memory.
Edan heads directly to Silhouette, ignoring the stares from others. He has the slightly confused expression on his face that one would associate with trying to remember something.
"Forgive me. You...look familiar. I feel as if I have seen you in another place, but I do not recall the meeting. Who are you?"
With all the allure and wickedness of an angler fish, Silhouette smiles widely. "I am whomever you desire me to be, my lord." She dips her head, chuckling. "But until you decide who that may be, you may call me Silhouette."
Edan's jaw drops; he distantly hears it click shut. "Then I have seen you another place. It was in Paris, at Lucas's funeral. I am Edan ibn Bleys ibn Oberon al-Kehribar al-Salaam al-Djinn-al-Ghanii. As I recall, you were Huon's envoy, and claimed to be Florimel's daughter, Eidothea."
Silhouette nods, placing her hand over her heart. "Sabaahal-khayr, Edan ebn khali. Eidothea Kabeiro ap Cadmilus is a name I've not used for many years." She cocks her head, enjoying his reaction. "Some day you may ask why."
She offers him her heavy bag to carry. Even in this aquatic medium, the fragrant nature of its contents cannot be understated. Musky, earthy, almost sweet - with a hint of mossy decay.
"Walk with me, and let us cleanse the Way between us," she says. A sly smile. "Unless you fear me to be a shedim in disguise, of course."
Edan nods his acceptance of the burden. "I do not know this word shedim, but I suspect I've been called one more often than you have. I should mention, if this is some badly-planned effort to kidnap me for Huon's benefit against my father, you will find me suitably prepared." Edan looks like he's only carrying a boot knife, but his words sound earnest.
Silhouette chuckles softly, lightly taking his arm. Her skin radiates warmth like sun-drenched brass. "How disappointing. Now whatever shall I do with the bindings I brought for just that purpose?"
She leads him away from the crowds - although that's relative when one considers the market's bustling population. "I am no longer in Prince Huon's employ. Whatever plots he has for your father remain his and his alone. So, rest easy in that regard." A slight smile, "And, as such, if you have intentions against him, I am not your avenue. We did not part well."
"I have no such designs. Either against him, or you. Whatever issues Huon and Bleys have, I am happy not to be in the middle of them." He gives Silhouette a sideways look. "So, then, you are a free agent? I had not heard of any vows made to Xanadu, but I have been away for a time. Perhaps you have pledged your loyalties to Rebma."
Silhouette lightly dips her head, "In a manner of speaking. I've offered my proper allegiances to our Kings and Queens, as the Grand Design dictates. And, yes, my loyalties are stronger to Queen Celina - as she allowed me to claim my birthright." A pause, weighing her words. "But, in truth, I still serve Creation above all else."
She cocks her head, "And you, Edan. Whom do you serve?"
"My allegiances are to Random, King of Xanadu and Amber, and Bleys, my father. As is proper. I am de facto Sultan of the Seven Tribes of the Dar-es Salaam, so my loyalty is still to them. As it is to all our family who hold the same allegiances that I do. In other words, if you have made vows to Random, and you call upon me for help, I will do all I can." A pause. "Not terribly long ago, cousin Lilly and I came across Ambrose, who was leading his people ahead of a pursuing Chantico and her army. Chantico is his sister, by Brand. Lilly and I felt a duty to lend our aid to Ambrose- he had made these vows to Random and Family, and she had not."
"She's Brand's daughter, then?" Silhouette says softly, almost to herself. "That may explain..." He voice drifts off, lost to the currents.
A slight nod, her hand squeezing his arm. "So, is that what brings you to Rebma then, Ebn Khali? Or do you have other matters to attend to here?"
"I came here to have words with cousin Signy, among others. And explore a little of Rebma, as I have not been here before." He turns his head towards Silhouette. "I was going to ask you about this Grand Design you had mentioned. But I would rather hear your thoughts on this Chantico."
"Ah, Signy, yes. We shared a forge once, and I was quite taken with her," Silhouette says with genuine respect. "Quite the craftswoman."
She guides them away from the crowds, down an alley flanked by walls of azure coral. From asymmetrical windows, Rebmans casually glance down at them like lazy eels inspecting their domain.
Her voices drops slightly, "As for Chantico, I know very little. She is likely involved with the Lady Dara - a Chaosian shapeshifter of some repute. Both may be supporting the former queen, Moire. Also, if she is Brand's Get, then I can only surmise she has traversed the Pattern at some point. Which may explain how her mother remains out of reach. If she possessed an army, it raises several considerations. Not the least of which, what her intentions are toward Rebma and her sister?"
"If you're talking about Chantico, she styles herself as a fire goddess. I doubt she'd be interested in...excuse me, who are you talking about? Who is her mother? I'm sorry, you'll have to be more specific with names."
Silhouette thinks on this, "Her mother may be Dara. Or, at least, that's what I can gather from discussions with our cousins. And she also has apparent ties to Moire, the former Queen of Rebma."
A distant look comes over her face, as if she is in another time and place. Her voice is mechanical, metallic as blood on the tongue. "'Chantico is a goddess of flame. She is my father's daughter in all his deeds, and has attacked me in the past in the hopes of mastering his legacy and destiny in Uxmal. Apparently she's moving on to a larger stage.'"
The tenor of her voice resumes its sensual undercurrents; an apologetic smile on her lips. "Cousin Ambrose's words, not mine," she explains.
Edan's mouth opens, then closes; he stops dead in the street for a moment, then continues. "Chantico and Dara. Clarissa hinted at the possibility. That Dara might 'eat' Chantico if she were no more use. Like Chaosi are wont to do with their affines, or progeny. I thought of Chantico as merely a tool; I did not have the wits to see the rest." He walks a few steps more and adds, "I do not think Chantico had walked a Pattern when I met her, but she may have since. I was not ready to take that risk at the time. It was one of the reasons why I did not try to kill her."
Silhouette sighs, "Pity. We may suffer for your mercy. But opportunities missed cannot be mourned. Only reacquired."
A faint smile, "Apparently, it was suggested that I am Dara and ate Flora's daughter." She cocks her head, "Can you Enlighten me further on your experience with Chantico?"
Edan shrugs. "It came down to a one-on-one fight between Lilly and Chantico. Lilly didn't know, I didn't know at the time, that Chantico had cheated; she wasn't completely there all along. Only part of her. So I drew her and her cronies fully into the fight, and eventually leveled the battlefield with an explosion.
"It has been mentioned, and more than once, that I should not have used fire. Chantico is a fire goddess, and I should have known she would survive. I counted on that knowledge; what I did was deliberate." Edan looks sideways at Silhouette. "I meant for her to survive. I do not know you, Silhouette. Florimel declared before Family that you are not her daughter, and she has not recanted that claim. But if she is wrong, if you are Family, then mark this well; killing each other is not tolerated. Even beyond Random's moratorium, it is not done. We may embarrass each other, injure one another, fight one another, even lock another up and burn out their eyeballs with hot pokers. But if you kill, the rest of the Family will line up against you, for all of eternity. Brand's death was something of the exception that proves the rule, but no one will ever look at or interact with Caine the same way again. He crossed the line that should not be crossed, even doing what had to be done.
"I gave Chantico a gift. I treated her like Family, because I knew she was Brand's daughter. I embarrassed her in front of her kin and her followers, hurt her with her own specialty. I stopped her plans. She will think twice before engaging me or Lilly again. But I did not kill her. If you are as you claim...that is our way."
Silhouette's expression shifts throughout Edan's description, from respect to disapproval and back again. In the end, she nods in appreciation. "Killing for me has always been a matter of causality," she admits. "So, it will take me time to adjust to the Family Way. But adjust I shall. Even if our adversaries - Family or no - do not adhere to the same conventions."
They turn another corner, entering a wide marketplace, one of refined tastes and people She appears to be heading them toward a shop - its windows are dark, no signs or symbols to reveal its purpose beyond a green door.
"You are a creature of Fire, then?" she says, a low, yearning tone echoing behind her words.
"Among other things. I am part afrit." He points to one of his eyes. "I speak the language of fire. And you? What are you a creature of?"
Silhouette pauses, considering her companion for a moment. "I am unsure," she admits. "And hesitant to guess."
As they approach the green door, she breathes out, as if under a great weight. "I once believe I was a daughter of Draig-Talamh. The Earth Dragon. But I am told such things are creatures of Chaos. Even mentioning such an association places me at risk. Beside, Chaos is... abhorrent to me." She looks into his eyes, "All I know is I died and was reborn in flames. And now, they hold no threat to me.
"Perhaps, I am a phoenix given flesh. But such an idea is better suited for legends, not cold truths."
"We are the cold truths from which the legends grow," Edan says automatically. "And if you know of the Pattern, then you probably know how to quash whatever rumors you hear circulating about you. For what it is worth, I didn't start any of them." He tilts his head. "What is this place?"
Silhouette gives a quiet laugh at his admission, but from a creature of steel and brass the sound is resounding, musical. "Well, I am certain many will pluck your thoughts after this meeting."
She opens the green door to a small airlock - another door offering egress from water to air, once room drains.
"This is my home. And soon my business," Silhouette says, stepping inside. "You shall be the first visitor. I would enjoy playing hostess, if you'd oblige me."
"Very well." Edan steps in with her. "I am interested in hearing of this dragon you mentioned, and of your philosophy."
After a thankful smile, she leads him inside the building...
Sometime later, they are on the second floor - a dry, desert-warm environment. Austere, the single-room loft appears to be more workshop than home. The dining area is little more than a table surrounded by four chairs, crisp settings placed before each. Currently, the contents of Silhouette's packages sit to one side, brightly colored bottles of ambergris.
The main area is dominated by several tables and bookshelves, as well as a workbench. While most of the tables are covered with scraps of fabric and sewing materials, the workbench hosts a canine-shaped construction of brass and wires and glass. Its blunt muzzle is lined with razored teeth, which gleam in the phosphorescent lights. Though lacking eyes, the empty sockets still seem alive - as if something is staring out from the metallic darkness.
A small area of two spongy chairs and a coffee table serve as the 'living' space. A Shatranj set sits on the table, its beautifully glazed pieces standing in perfect formation.
Beyond this, Edan sees the sleeping area, a space consisting of little more than a plush bed, a chifforobe, and nightstand. A Muk Yan Jong sparring dummy and mat floor finish off the area.
Silhouette is in the kitchen area, cleaning a batch of prawns for her royyala iguru curry. "I have some white wine from Paris, if you'd like to open it," she calls to him. "I have glasses as well. Perhaps it is unjust to Rebman culture, but one cannot appreciate enjoy fine wine out of a bulb's sphincter."
"I will try," Edan says. "Glass bottles of wine are not common where I come from. But I have seen the procedure done multiple times when I was in Paris." Mostly, Edan is hovering over the construct on the table. "Did you build this thing? Is it art?"
Silhouette glances over and smiles knowingly. "It's one of my Mechanika. A Hunter-Killer, to be exact. Do be careful of the teeth. There may be a trace of poison on them."
She drops the prawns into a marinade of garlic, turmeric, and sea salt. "I've been adapting its heart to burn materials more conducive to Rebma paradigms. Ambergris, in this case. Enlightenment always calls."
She cleans off her hands, and then fetches the vegetables. "Speaking of which... you had questions for me. Which shall I answer first?"
Edan shrugs. "That's easy. What is this Grand Design you speak of?"
Silhouette begins chopping the onions and tomatoes, "To explain the true precepts of the Grand Design would take far longer than we have. Briefly, it is the sacred duty of obtaining Perfection. The World is a Machine. And any Machine is only as great as the sum of its parts, and thus is invariably flawed. To obtain Perfection, these parts must be understood and tested. This may only be accomplished through Action. And Action is inspired by Purpose."
She sighs, "Regrettably, my recent Patternwalk has given me somewhat of a crisis of Faith. But Enlightenment comes when we least expect it."
"I am not unfamiliar with this crisis of Faith," Edan says. "My entire life, I was brought up to believe in the Merciful One. And then I discovered that he was but Shadow." He turns away from the construct. "But where does this dragon of yours fit in?"
Silhouette beckons him over, so she doesn't have to continue straining her neck while she cooks. As he approaches, she gestures to the bottle of wine.
"When I was a slave-child, I lost nearly all hope," she admits, unable to meet his gaze. "The death of my father and sisters, coupled with exhaustion and the beatings led me to despair. But when I could escape the barracks, I went to the foundry and watched the iron dragons in their final stages of construction. They were magnificent creatures of cold-iron and flame. Even incomplete, I sensed them stirring like children about to be born. Impossible, I know, for all their grandeur they were little more than automata of cogs and pneumatics. Yet, the more I watched them, the more I saw evidence of life. Idiosyncrasies of movement and function that hinted at individual personalities, dare I say... souls. Behind those glass eyes something looking back at me.
"And then one day, I had to adjust one of their mainsprings. There, deep inside the dragon's heart, I felt its presence all around me. A harmony of gears and wheels and steel that flooded me with its simple majesty. A wondrous impossibility that verged on the divine. That day, I knew that something lay beneath the veil of reality, an underlying Truth begging to be discovered. Being only human, limited to human words and concepts, I named it. Draig Talamh. The earth dragon."
She sets the food into the skillet. "And thus began my study of the Grand Design... and she was my teacher."
"I see." Edan looks down and away. "I tried to find God in mathematics. It sounds ridiculous, neh? But studying the essential formulae that encompass the Pattern and Order, I found room for God to exist. But I was wrong. The universe, as we know it, is held together by a brooding composer and a manic drummer. And beyond that is Chaos." He smiles, thinly. "The idea of a dragon, a creature of Chaos, sounds incongruous with something that sounds intrinsically Ordered."
Silhouette pauses in her work at the mention of mathematics, her eyes lighting up as if Edan has just recited the greatest love sonnet. Then, as with most things of the heart, everything turns to wistfulness - reality intruding like a cold wind.
She stirs the onions and bay leaves, "I know it is not wise to question our Elders, but I struggle with the concept of dragons being creatures of Chaos. They are the Aspects of Nature, which is the truest representation of Order. Then again, the unenlightened generally view Nature as being chaotic. And, I have not witnessed the dragons of which they speak. For me, they are more esoteric constructs defined by geomancy and other arcane studies."
A weighed silence, then she speaks in a hushed tone. "There must be something beyond the world-view of our Family. I cannot believe that Creation is little more than the imaginings of a vain and hollow people, each blinded by aeons of self-righteousness. Where I seek Enlightenment, all I discover is half-truths and veiled threats." She glances over at him shyly, "I fear there is no room for a gnostic in this murder of crows."
"Many of us are searching, one way or another." Edan's head is bowed, but he still manages to look at Silhouette with a sideways glance. "My search has ended. My proofs were incorrect. Overall, I found that all I was doing was limiting myself with rules that did not apply to me. To be one of us, that is to embrace a whole different set of rules." He smiles, slightly. "Perhaps you will be more fortunate with your own search. May you find what you seek in that regard."
"Thank you, Edan," she says, dipping her head. A gentle smile curls her lips. "And what do you hope to find? Enlightenment? Purpose? Although one search has ended, you must begin a new one. Otherwise, you invite Stagnation into your heart."
The smile broadens, "I ask because you remind me of myself in many ways."
"Oh, I have enough to keep me busy for a time," Edan says. "I have tasks Random has asked me to pursue. I have projects of my own, that take some occasional attention. I have to take time out to appreciate some of the gifts that have been given to me. How do I remind you of yourself? I would say that I am far different than almost all of my cousins."
Silhouette begins stirring in the shrimp, "Even though the previous laws of Creation no longer apply to you, I sense the desire to serve something greater than the Family. Order, perhaps? Not the manic precepts our cousins and parents pretend to dominate, but the Truth behind the facade or Reality." She flips the pink shrimp, "Even Gods can answer to higher powers."
"There are members of my Family that would disagree with you," Edan says. "They would say our only limits are within ourselves...or each other. You're looking for an answer to it all, a secret Truth behind the universe as you see it. As I did. I did not find it. Any answers I seek at this point, they will be within myself."
"Or the Patterns," Silhouette offers. "And the Mysteries thereof."
A simple shrug punctuates the last statement before she removing the food from the heat. She gathers two plates, spooning jasmine rice onto them from a rice-cooker in perfect mounds. The royyala iguru is added next, a colorful, fragrant juxtaposition against the white. She carries them to the table, setting them down. "Tell me, how far do our Familial Laws of 'mercy' extend? Only to Blood? Or are our Intimates equally protected?"
Edan joins her at the table, makes a gesture of gratitude for the food, and holds a chair for her. "First off, have you walked a Pattern? I would not do it again. It is like a great storm that blows through your entire universe and could kill you without pity or remorse. I would not take that chance, unless my need were greater than my desire for life."
She sits, smiling at him in thanks. "It was a taxing venture," she says, the mechanical tone of her voice doing the task no justice.
He goes to the wine he opened after Silhouette is seated (OOC: if she does, or we can adjust) and pours. As he brings the glasses back to the table he adds, "As for Intimates, I am not sure what you mean. Many of us have others in our retinue. To interact with them, I was taught to first call upon those who are responsible for them. Let me give you an example. There is a man, named Chi-lin, who once was a vizier in the Land of Peace. He visited much suffering upon the tribes of the Deep Desert, who were under my protection. I heard that he was in Amber, and under other circumstances I would have killed him there; but I also heard Brita was responsible for him. So he remains alive, simply because he is under my cousin's protection. Does that answer your question?"
Silhouette nods, "It answers the core of the question, yes. As such, I will need to reexamine certain permutations. And further confounds me in some regards."
She spears a prawn and pops it in her mouth. After delicately eating it, she continues. "Query. Hypothetical. If you knew a person with Familial protection would cause the Family great harm would you preemptively dispose of said person? Or would you allow said person to cause great harm, and then allow the Familial to deal with them?"
Edan only slows a second on the way back to his own seat. "I suppose," he says slowly, "that would entirely depend on the nature of the great harm, as well as the person under protection and the person protecting them."
Silhouette waits for Edan to sit, "Let us say that someone's continued existence would lead to war, and possibly damaging one of the Patterns. Possibly even the murder of a cousin. But the perpetrator is the paramour of an Elder."
Edan raises an eyebrow at that last. "Ah, so. Your thoughts are going the direction I expected. I hope you have proof."
"Proof?" Silhouette says softly. "We're speaking hypothetically, are we not? I'm simply adding certain perimeters to the questions."
She dips her head, "However, yes, if such a situation existed, I would acquire proof prior to Action."
Edan frowns a little. "So you have...a hunch? Were I in such a situation, I would wait. Only if I had proof, would I go to that Elder. And I would tread carefully."
It's Silhouette's turn to frown, "Thank you. But I assure you, if Action is required, there will be more than enough proof to justify it." She sighs slightly, "All causalities would need to be examined, as well. I will not make the same mistake I did with..."
A trouble line etches her perfect brow. "Huon has not - nor will - give up his vendetta against your father. A million deaths are not enough for our uncle. Only the One will satisfy his bloodlust."
"I won't wish him luck," Edan says. "That is between my father and Huon, and Father is aware of where Huon is and what danger he represents. I am not involved unless someone brings me into it. Or if Huon succeeds, which I am sure he is well aware of the case for vendetta on my part. Until then, it would be an insult to my father to assume he could not take care of himself."
He is casual and pleasant about it, but Edan waits until Silhouette eats and drinks before trying his own food and wine. "This is delicious."
Silhouette smiles brightly, "Thank you. It's rare that I eat, let alone cook. So sharing a meal with good company is a cherished gift."
She eats with polite grace, more interested in Edan's enjoyment of the food than her own. "Do you know what began the vendetta between your father and Huon? I did not realize it was such until too late. Otherwise, I would have refused his patronage. But now that I am associated with this conflict, any Enlightenment you offer is welcome."
Edan shakes his head. "Huon earned royal displeasure to the point that he is not spoken of. I believe my father was given the duty of either watching over Huon, or driving him away. Or both. I do not know the details."
Silhouette raises a brow, "And what does he say of me, I wonder? Considering your initial reaction to me, it cannot be... positive."
Edan looks momentarily confused, and then he says, "I see. The royal displeasure would have been Oberon's displeasure, so I could not ask him. He is dead. But for what it's worth, Huon earned Random's and Celina's displeasure as well. Just not as much of it, apparently. You've spoken to both Random and Celina, neh? What is your opinion of your own standing with them?"
Silhouette sets her fork down, thinking on this. "I believe Queen Celina has grown fond of me. She sees beyond my past associations and activities to the woman I've become. For the moment, we must remain distant in most aspects. I serve her from the shadows. And shall continue to do so, as I believe she is a Potential.
"King Random's feelings are difficult to assess. He has been benevolent, accepting, even protective at times. But I am a comely woman, and he is... Random."
"Perhaps he knew all along that you were Family," Edan says. "Or not. I've not tried to understand him. Each time I've met him, I felt like I was being tested, somehow. The first time, we played drums and I danced." His head tilts a little. "What do you mean by Potential?"
"In the Grand Design, there are Potentials," Silhouette explains. "In simple terms, they are avatars of Change. Their actions resonate through Creation and move it closer to Perfection. They are like living hinge factors, if you will. Turning points in history.
"Celina is one such Potential, and because she is connected to the Pattern, her influence will be wider felt."
Edan looks like he's about to say something, but stops. "If you have walked the Pattern, as you say, then I think you should learn the Maths. Then I think you would see that history has no turning points, only branches that go different directions in the web of probability and Shadow. My father would be able to say it more eloquently. But let's start simply. What would you think is Perfection? And what if someone else's perception of Perfection is different than your own?"
"The underlying principle of Perfection is encouraging and maintaining the Greater Good," Silhouette says. "The Greater Good promotes societal harmony, Enlightenment of the masses, and the unification of the Whole toward the betterment of Creation. It provides Purpose and inspires Order.
"However, one must recognize that Perfection is an unobtainable goal. Creation can always be improved, otherwise society will fall into Stagnation. And the Greater Good does not and cannot provide Perfection for all. Some must suffer for the Greater Good to be maintained. Those who promote Disharmony must be brought to heel, or better yet... utilized as a unifier for the Masses. Society must have an Adversary."
"The need of the many outweighs the need of the few," Edan says without emotion. "And if you're not with us, you're against us. Tell me about Chaos, and why it's so bad."
"Order - like any Machine - cannot function properly when exposed to Chaos," Silhouette says immediately. "I do not speak of randomness, the purview of Nature. That form of chaos is an inherent part of Order, and can be of great benefit.
"I speak of True Chaos. Entropy. That Which Destroys Without Purpose. Unconfined, it can bring dissolution and ruin to all Creation."
She sips her wine, "Have you heard of or encountered Dara? She is a manifestation of what I speak."
"I have not encountered her personally," Edan says, "but I have heard the stories, especially what happened at the Coronation Ball. I have met other entities of Chaos. Dragons. Lords. It has been my experience that this manifestation you speak of stems from the attitude of individuals, not their origin. Are you aware of the history of our Family? And our ancestry?"
"Very little," Silhouette frowns. "Huon offered up only pieces, and they were tainted with his prejudices. The remainder of the Family have not illuminated me as to our past. I know there was a Great War of some kind that destroyed our ancestral home. We've made numerous enemies, including the Moon Riders. And that we are descended from a man called Oberon. But beyond that, nothing."
"Oberon, yes," Edan says. "He was my father's father. Sire to all our elders, including Huon. Many of whom intermarried and bred with those of Chaos." He smiles, just a little. "I am of Chaos, descended from Clarissa. She named me a Lord of Chaos and of Order, and I will accept that title."
Silhouette raises her gaze at this, "You are of Chaos?" A sad smile touches her lips. "Then, I suppose, I should not feel entirely guilty poisoning the prawns. I promise, it will be painless. Almost restful."
She sips her wine, hiding the grin behind her glass.
"And I thought it was the curry," Edan says. "I hope you kept some extra, though. If you are of the Blood, then chances are..." He lets the rest drop. "Did you walk the Pattern here?"
Silhouette smiles, "So, Chaosians possess a sense of humor. Intriguing. I wonder what other traits you possess."
She sets her glass back down, "But, yes, as to your question, I walked the Pattern here. I'm curious about the others. But do not intend to attempt them in the foreseeable future. Which did you traverse?"
"I walked the Pattern at Tir-na Nog'th," Edan says. "I would not want to attempt any of the others. One was enough."
"The Ghost City?" Silhouette says, her tone unconscionably dubious. "Tell me of it. How did you avoid the Riders and their Queen?"
"It was some time ago," Edan says. "The Riders were not in Tir at the time, at least not that I saw. Are they there now?"
Silhouette shrugs slightly, "To that, I am unsure. Apparently, the King has forbidden any travel to the Ghost City, much to my academic disappointment. I wished to see the City for myself; one of the reasons I agreed to be Huon's representative." She smiles gently, "What is it like, if I might ask."
Edan has finished his food, and is sipping on his drink. "Why mention the Riders if you haven't been there? The City of Dreams is...well...it is like the Shadows. Having walked the Pattern, you now have the power to walk to whatever you can dream or imagine. Tir-na Nog'th is like a piece of Shadow in the sky. Whatever is in your head, conscious or subconscious, you could encounter it there."
Silhouette rises to clear the dishes, "I've been told that the Riders intend to return to the City. And this might be a concern. But, as you point out, much of what I am told by the Family is... clouded by opinion."
A wistful smile, "I would very much enjoy to travel there. To encounter my dreams... yes, I find that very appealing."
She returns from putting the dishes down to soak, "Did you find your dreams there?"
Edan's eyes are unreadable gold coins, and his smile is enigmatic, for him. "I found myself. My subconscious is a strange, wondrous place. When our Elders visited the city in the sky, they usually did so to receive visions. It is argued that these visions were really the manifestation of their own inductive reasoning, but who knows? Perhaps they were subtle manipulations by some outside force. What about Rebma? How did it affect you?"
"In many ways, I experienced a similar self-discovery. Although, my visions were more nightmarish from the sounds of it," she says, gazing off distantly - remembering. "The Pattern stripped away many of my preconceptions and beliefs. Or, maybe, it provided me the strength to escape the comforts of self-delusion. Whatever force underlies that realization, it cleansed the Way. But is not that the essence of Water? Purity and Intuition."
She tilts her head, smiling. "The flames forged me. The Pattern tempered me."
Edan smiles in return. "That, I think, is about the best description of a Pattern walk that I have ever heard. Congratulations. Cousin." He stands. "If you find yourself in Xanadu, look me up. Perhaps we can discuss the differences in the Patterns that we have walked."
Silhouette stands, extending her hands to him, palms up. "I would very much enjoy seeing you again, Edan," she says, savoring the name on her tongue. "Thank you for your company this evening." A smile. "You are welcome here whenever you desire."