Jindranae sent her slender fingers poking through the various pouches and bags at her waistline, and Trizelle, who knew better than to believe that the Eladrin had misplaced whatever she was looking for, politely shielded her thoughts and sipped her tea.
"Ah, here it is," Jindranae grinned, holding up a glistening silver ring. "Now this is supposed to assist the focus of the-"
"I've never received any notice of dissatisfaction with my service to the council," Trizelle interrupted, putting her cup and saucer down on the table between the two.
"Because there isn't one, dear!" Jindranae exclaimed at once. "You've never been anything but good to us, since the day you came! Out on anyone who should even pretend otherwise."
Trizelle scoffed softly and picked her tea up again. Nearly out of habit, she glimpsed the leaves at the bottom. An exasperation with herself that, in most people, would have resulted in a sigh, did not even cause a shadow to cross her face.
"Now, that sweet little Elven boy who came to visit you some weeks ago, his sense of self was so scattered that it set even my stone of a partner to distraction, poor thing. He was inconsolable- pacing back and forth every night for an entire ten-day, ruminating on what experiments could possibly have so disorganized one of our blood. I had to tell him that I would think of something to help, or neither of us would have gotten any peace."
"Don't patronize your partner," Trizelle admonished. "Anything that reminds him of the war will irritate him. Greenstar and many other living experiments were used as weapons-"
Their blood. Their screams. The groping in either the cold darkness of birth or the searing light of death. Struggling babes who could neither lie nor discern lies, searching for sustenance, for warmth. Hollow eyed women who had no idea they'd been robbed. And I continued working, didn't stop, didn't pause, didn't show any sign of empathy. Knowledge? Knowledge. Far too much knowledge; I earned knowledge that should never have existed, much less been practiced or taught. With my own hands. No trembling. No confusion. Viciously precise; damnably accurate. Incapable of anything less. All those little ones. Who tried to find love in me, while I killed them. But... Torquin survived. And Dresan was... spared...
"-despite their tender ages," the Human woman finished, her voice made tight. She found herself glaring daggers at her tea, and had to restrain the irrational desire to throw it at the wall.
Jindranae put the ring on the table and gazed at it for a moment before looking back up to Trizelle's oddly pinched face. "I wonder how long it might take for an actual study into battlemadness to be made," she finally managed, picking her tea up and blinking uselessly at the far wall. "You'd think what with so many Cormite soldiers inflicted, that something would be done, but, well! Not a mark put to paper! It's as though it weren't real, for all the turned heads and averted eyes!"
Trizelle took a long sip of tea, then gently put her teacup and saucer back down on the table. "Give it to me; I can't analyze it properly from that distance."
Jindranae raised an eyebrow at Trizelle, but wordlessly picked up the ring and put it in the Human woman's waiting palm, careful to only gently drop it onto her flesh.
"Done," Trizelle announced before Jindranae had even put her hand back under her saucer. "It'll do for a third level divination student. You might ask Gimago about worthy candidates before giving it away, blinded by good-natured guilt, to such a person as might throw it down a well in spite."
Jindranae closed her eyes and chuckled to herself, bowing her head just slightly in the process. She put her teacup back down, then positioned her hand underneath Trizelle's so that the mage could give the ring back simply by turning her hand over- no contact necessary.
No contact at all.
"And speaking of Gimago, those bandages of his- nasty stuff. Did you not think to mix any sort of perfumed oils into those salves?" the Eladrin asked, her buoyant tone coming with effort. "I could barely continue to sit in the court room when he produced them, and-"
"I want nothing to do with the legal matters surrounding Mimsa until everything is settled," Trizelle interrupted sharply.
"It's quite close to being settled, dear, and you've settled it, with those horrendous bandages. They about set Pohatkon's tongue on fire. The oils?" Jindranae insisted.
"I decided against them, because they cost coin," Trizelle responded flatly. "The coin I manage comes from taxes, and I, personally, do not feel like forcing the populace at large to pay, however indirectly, for Mimsa's murderous temper."
"There; is it a sin to tell you that you and Pohatkon are of a mind? Because that was his argument- that Mimsa truly meant to kill the boy," Jindranae laughed sadly, her fists tightly clenched on her lap.
"The severity of Gimago's wounds should have preached that before Sakoda had to," Trizelle complained caustically. "Tell me the details if you find you must."
"I must, and you'll thank me when I'm done," Jindranae huffed, the slightest touch of her natural haughtiness shining through like a sharp slice of sun-touched glass esconced in dark soil. "The bandages came out, and off 'Ser Sadist' went, barking like a wild dog- 'That smells of charred meat; I accuse Lady Mimsa of lethal assault,' he says. And Arnsvold says, 'You can't do that; she's still a seated council member.' So Pohatkon says, 'Then I submit my knowledge of deeply burned muscle as witness to the active case, and further submit my personal opinion that this woman is hiding every type of rotting filth under her throne. I can't charge her taxes because she's seated. I can't serve a charge for treason- which I would very much like to serve because she refuses to allow her magisters to form a magical arm of defense under my command or anyone else's- because she's seated. I can't even charge her uncle for not taking on Eastern Quarter proteges because she contests my charge, and has the privilege of- you guessed it- her seat. All the while, she attempts to wield me like a hammer against every dew skipping witch and thistle bud wild mage she can find, and complains of treason when I ignore her. Shove her out of that seat and be done, I pray you, and so soon as you do, I shall crown her with every justice that her actions have so long deserved.' Perhaps not word for word- you know that he curses much more freely than could be thought wise in court, but along those lines."
"Good," Trizelle scoffed. "Took him long enough to make a case, as I asked months ago."
"Oh, Triz, you expect too much of the man; it may have taken his wife just this long to teach him proper Common," Jindranae joked, finally releasing the ring onto the table in favor of picking up her tea. She didn't have as much experience with reading the leaves as did her companion, and the latter gained a small flicker of amusement watching her sneakily try to do it.
"Sakoda acts and speaks when compelled. He was made for this type of work," Trizelle counseled as she put her teacup down and willed the still-warm clay pot to pour more hot water into it. "He simply has to be irritated into doing it."
"Remind me why we gave him a job he has to be 'compelled' or 'irritated' into doing?" Jindranae asked, lifting her eyes from her cup without having fully understood what she'd just seen.
"Because a good quarter part of the guard is corrupted, and most of those remaining are their idiot friends," Trizelle replied easily as she gave the smallest, dismissive flick of her hand. The honey comb pot opened itself and poured the smallest drop of honey into the darkening tea without her so much as looking at it. "Sakoda doesn't spare anyone a visit to his hall of horrors just because they hold an oath to the crest in common. In fact, he tortures them more zealously, as though he were personally insulted by their betrayal."
"Is he?" Jindranae immediately asked.
Trizelle quietly gazed at Jindranae's unthought of teaspoon for what seemed to the Eladrin like an inordinate amount of time.
"I believe so- but, I've never asked," she finally answered. "I simply see the results and suspect their bitter wellspring. Further, his bloodlust is being amplified by his relocation to the Dark Quarter- a necessary, but unfortunate decision. Makela is useless, and Jana as impressionable as the nearest stone, but Circe and her father are both being very strongly affected by the sharran energies that have coalesced in that area."
"We've only just gotten the poor man; we can't have him warped already," Jindranae mused, rolling her eyes. "I can demand that he return to-"
"Makela's triumph would be insufferable," Trizelle said in a flat tone as she picked up her fresh cup of tea, "even for a man accustomed to torture in almost all its forms."
"She and Sakoda seem to get on well enough at the few social functions he allows her to drag him to," Jindranae argued. "And they do have two children together- if she was so bad, she'd have been put away after the first, don't you think?"
Trizelle raised an eyebrow at her compatriot over the rim of the cup. "She's not bad; she's useless."
"Artless," Jindranae corrected matter-of-factly.
"No, useless," Trizelle insisted as she lowered her tea cup. "They don't have two children together; she gave birth to two regrets and he, her first and greatest, is now raising them, largely by himself. Her lack of magickal acumen is another matter entirely."
"How could they possibly stay married then? Why would they, at that? Divorce isn't illegal." Trizelle did not reply, and Jindranae looked down into her cup again with a deep sigh. "I wonder if Imaraide will be useful."
Trizelle put her cup down entirely and rested her hands in her lap. "If you're going to talk about matters that I don't want to talk about, at least do so without obfuscation."
"That's not... well, I suppose... oh, dear." Jindranae put her own tea cup down, and without warning, her eyes flooded with tears. "I'm useless, aren't I? At these Human affairs? How am I supposed to govern this place when I can't-"
"Do as you have been doing- simply respect each Human you meet as a worthy individual- an equal, within reason. When each individual proves themself
either helpful or harmful, treat them appropriately. Actively work toward equity where it does not yet exist,
and support it wherever it does," Trizelle replied quietly. "Now, as much of a mentor as you may have been to her, Mimsa's history of actions reflect poorly only on herself. She and I are both Humans, and you appointed me to my position just as much as you strongly suggested Mimsa for hers. Or do you feel that my attitudes and actions are your fault as well?"
"Well, you don't go about bullying people- although you've every ability to," Jindranae laughed weakly in spite of herself. "Only you could make all this mess sound so simple."
Trizelle looked at her hands in her lap. "Many beneficial concepts are simple. Successful adaptation of those concepts is monumentally difficult. More entrenched within us than the bias that is taught to us is that which is birthed in us due to personal experience. And you have experienced many, many, many unsavory Humans."
"Among which you do not number," Jindranae cut in knowingly.
Trizelle looked up, slowly and purposefully, catching another glimpse of the bottom of her teacup in the process. "Among which both Sakoda and I certainly do number. However, despite being so, we are of reasonable use in that at least we will use our abrasive natures to your benefit, and not your destruction."
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