Lost Long AgoIruvande S'Akhiy'Rhienn "I do not come searching for the hru'Airifvir," the girl said quickly. "I am here in search of the hru'hfirh of Akhiy'Rhienn." Iruvande's eyes narrowed, piercing through the girl and trying to see what she held inside her. "I do not go by that name. What is thy business with the Akhiy'Rhienn House?" Her body shivered harder as she forced herself to keep eye-contact with the strangest woman she'd ever seen. Those haunting green eyes were like ice in her veins and their intensity left her dizzy. "I... I come seeking knowledge of a female ancestor of my line." Those eyes narrowed a fraction more. "And what has led thee to the belief that such knowledge is held by Akhiy'Rhienn?" "A... A... A... A letter..." The girl could feel tears in her eyes but she refused to cry them as her clumsy fingers dragged out the letter and held it out for Iruvande's inspection. Flowing to her feet, Iruvande closed the distance between them. The letter was old, made from a type of parchment no longer seen in written text on ch'Rihan. Even the most pedantic of artists had moved from using such vellum to more modern equivalents. Unrolling the scroll, she blinked once but made no other _expression_ as she read its contents. As she finished, she re-rolled it and handed it back. "Why should this hold any interest to we who are Akhiy'Rhienn?" The girl just gaped, holding the scroll to her chest like a protective talisman. "Because... I thought... I thought you'd want to know what happened to her." "She is dead to us." Her tone was so flat, so cold, that it made the girl's attempts to keep her tears in check harder. One escaped, tracking down her fine-boned features, so similar to those of the white woman opposite her and yet the generations separating them had made their mark in the fine appearance of ridges on the girl's forehead where Iruvande had none and the darker skin-tone. "She is not dead to me," she gasped defensively. "She was my great-great grandmother, a lady of great beauty and delicate features. Her heart was so pure, she was like a light shining in the darkness of our House. I knew her barely ten years before she died." A child of Fhya's line! The leap of hope exploded in Iruvande's chest but she kept it tempered. "If thee speaks the truth and the one who write that letter was truly one of our House, then you lie also. You could not have known the child we lost. She would be four hundred and twenty yesterday. You are barely fifteen years old." "I'm twenty-one!" the girl huffed. "She was four hundred and nine when she died." "Twice the average age of an average Rihannsu woman," Iruvande pointed out. Pulling herself up taller, the girl met Iruvande's fierce gaze once more. "And how old are you, lhhei?" A bright laugh sprang up from Iruvande's stomach. "Too old to not recognise Fhya's hand in a letter. Ie, the women in our line live long lives." Darkness crept into her eyes and her smile dissolved. "Those who do not die of broken hearts live long." "Is... is that what happened to her?" the girl asked quietly. "Ie." Turning her back, Iruvande strode into her home. "Long ago." "Do you believe me then?" "Ie." Biting her lip, the girl edged further into the main room, her eyes darting around to everything. "This isn't quite how I imagined this meeting would go." "Na?" Iruvande said quietly as she opened a drawer of her desk and drew out a vid still of a very beautiful woman, her hair long with flowers twined in it. "What was thy expectation?" "I... I don't know. I guess I expected you to be happier," she shrugged. "Not so distant." "I have always been distant, even then." Turning around, she offered the girl the picture. "Fhya." "Oh she's stunning! Everything I imagined her to be." Long fingers caressed the image and a soft smile touched the girl's lips. In the moment she saw the smile, Iruvande's heart broke and she had to turn away again to hide the tear that had sprung up in her eye. Fhya's smile. There was no doubt now, no hiding who the girl was. "What is thy name?" The girl blinked, her cheeks reddening at the rudeness of her host. "I'm called Nacilme," she murmured. Iruvande's eyes softened. Hard won victory. "And thy great-great-grandmother?" "Eruanna." Her laugh sprang up again and she turned around. "Gift of the Elements. Thy family has a knack for names." Nacilme took a sharp breath. "How did you know the meaning? Hru'nanov said it was from a language that died long ago. She said..." "Her mother named her," Iruvande nodded. "Did she know then? That the lady who called herself her mother was not?" "Na," the girl whispered sadly. "I found the letter in my di'nanov's belongings when he died. Fhya named her then?" "Ie, I would expect so. And thee, who named thee?" "Hru'nanov," she said with fondness. "All the girls from her line are named by her, she knew she was dying though. She taught me the language, told me the stories. I am hru'paehhosrrh now she is gone." "One so young? Thee must have a talent for stories to be a House Lore Keeper at twenty one," Iruvande observed. Nacilme puffed out her chest and beamed. "Who is hru'paehhosrrh of thy House?" With a quick of her lips, Iruvande looked directly at her. "Doth thee seek thy House Birthright?" Even though her cheeks darkened to a deep sage, Nacilme nodded firmly. "If hru'nanov still lived, she would want it." "Then thee are Akhiy'Rhienn hru'paehhosrrh," Iruvande replied simply. |
