Author: Lurina

180: Blood of the Covenant (𒐅) - The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere | Royal Road

7:26 PM | The Ninsirsir, Deck 3 | December 31st | 1608 COVENANT

Lamu had not seen anyone else from the Exemplary Acolyte's Class in many years. In fact, with the exception of Ezekiel - who she'd encountered completely by chance at his office in Qatt, and then spoke to on a couple more occasions primarily out of fascination with the degree to which he'd changed - she hadn't spoken with any of them at all between the class being disbanded and Nhi contacting her. For understandable reasons, she'd heard the others were the same way, too-- Avoiding one another save for a few exceptions.

But aside from her 'genius', Lamu had one other fundamental trait that bent towards competence rather than incompetence: She was cautious. It was a major factor in how she'd been able to disappear from the Mimikos successfully undetected: If her mind identified something as a source of danger or risk, it would simply not under any circumstances allow her to forget or look away. Thus, she always saw trouble coming early, even if that didn't mean she was able to do anything about it.

A less fundamental but also helpful trait was of course her technological literacy and predisposition to spend the overwhelming majority of her time on the logic sea instead of real life, and with that, she'd kept an eye on her classmates over the years. She knew about them all. Well, almost.

Ezekiel of Ilaadbat's abandonment of the spotlight and relatively straightforward career as an arcane neurosurgeon, which she might never have even learned about had they not had their run-in.

Utsushikome of Fusai's brief-and-inscrutable venture into animated novels, followed by her quick ascent in the world of anatomical engineering, culminating in a noteworthy place in one of the two iterations of the Human Redesign Project.

Seth of Ikkuret's more successful career change to the military following his stint as a medical director at a prominent naval keep, ultimately becoming a well-known battlemagi in the Censors.

Ptolema of Rheeds abandonment of arcana altogether, becoming one of the directors of Alkyon Shipping, her family business, and subsequent marriage to Miltiades of Xatheos, an Irencan politician and former minister of infrastructure.

Ran of Hoa-Trinh's employment at the Sibyl's College Oreskios branch and then headquarters, followed by her untimely death in a carriage accident.

And of course, Theodoros of Melanthos's career in arcane scholarship - following in the footsteps of his father - and eventual ascension to the position of headmaster at the Altaian Institute for Arcane Transmutation and Synthesis.

There were only three blank spots. Fang, of course, had famously defected to the at-the-time Duumvirate and become an enigmatic figure whose movements were no longer reported reliably by the media or even in rumor, though people spoke of them having also been seriously wounded in some kind of accident or disaster. Ophelia had returned to her homeland in the Diakos and vanished into obscurity after a brief stint as a researcher in Palaat, and Kamrusepa had seemingly dropped off the face of the planes only a few years after the class was broken up.

And those were just the facts of the matter. Lamu might have struggled to understand others at ground level, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew how to read between the lines in a situation.

...was she forgetting someone? She felt like she was forgetting someone.

Whatever. All this is to say that, when she looked up and realized that she was sitting across from Theodoros of Melanthos, she wasn't entirely surprised. Considering his status, and everything else she knew about the situation, it made sense for him to be here, looking strikingly different than he did all those years ago; hair cut to half an inch, thin spectacles, surprisingly muscled arms that still somehow failed to convey any more of an intimidating impression. He looked almost the inverse of his father, a creature produced on the other side of some bizarre alchemical magic, an anti-Linos that was sharp in all the ways that he was rounded and yet still somehow identical.

But this did not stop her from lurching in surprise as she processed his presence, and all its implications.

"--Lamu... of Harsadaar," she finished, knowing how obvious her reaction probably was but seeing no alternative but to push forward as if nothing had happened. "It's nice to meet you."

Theodoros looked a little confused. But then, so did Lamu and this other man, Malko, who now that she was examining closely had a scar around his left cheek and eye, a burn that for some reason appeared to have gone untreated. His hair was distinct, too, tied into a low ponytail.

"Pleasure to meet you both," the latter said, his tone casual regardless. "Your first time too?"

Lamu swallowed the air, trying to compose herself and seem relaxed. "To this event specifically, yes."

"But not to these kinds of functions generally."

"I've had my fair share," she told him, which was true. "Especially when I was younger."

"My condolences to us both, then," he said, with an incline of his head. "What are you in for? Might as well get to know one another before they bring the wine, and we can start the race to drink ourselves into an enduring stupor."

It took Lamu an awkwardly long moment to realize that he was asking her why'd she been invited. "I'm in logic engineering."

He raised an eyebrow. "You own a company?"

"No," Lamu corrected, shaking her head. "Government, not guild. Project director."

Again, all technically true. It was even feasible she might have been invited to this event in the past, had she travelled in the right circles; though the whole sphere was too hush-hush to say for sure, she'd have ventured a guess that her old team was one of the most important in the entire military. But Lamu had never the talent nor interest needed to take advantage of that socially.

"Ahh, someone with an actual useful skill!" Malko chuckled. "No wonder they've seated you back here. The front is wealthy layabouts and politicians from corner to corner."

Lamu laughed stiffly in response. "And you?"

"Law, ostensibly," he answered. "I'm the editor of Itha's Arrow, and keep a practice in Old Yru."

She nodded along, vaguely recalling this name as belonging to some hyper-specialist legal journal - Itha, of course, being the Dying Goddess of Reason Defied by Madness, whose image of a woman clasping scales in one hand and her severed head in the other was used in all sorts of legal and governmental contexts - that she'd occasionally seen lying in the offices of important people, universally filed in some shelf rather than being actually being read.

"In reality, though, I'm mostly here because of family, pathetic as that sounds. I might lose even that privilege one of these years." He didn't elaborate, turning to Theodoros. "Theo would get me in anyway, though. He actually has an important position."

"If that was how it was, I'd have us stop coming here altogether," Theo told him flatly.

Malko scoffed. "As if. You might deny it, but I know how much you love feeling important."

Lamu's eyes flicked between their faces nervously, trying not to give the impression that her gaze was lingering on Theo. She thought he'd sounded a little furtive when she'd first sat down, but now his tone was becoming more relaxed, and he wasn't even looking at her any more. Had he just been wary of them as table partners? Did he not actually recognize her?

It wasn't out of the question. Many years had passed, and unlike him, Lamu no doubt looked significantly different to how she had as a child. Plus, Theo had never struck her as having an especially good memory-- Though if she recalled, he did tend to do fairly well on multiple-choice tests, so that assessment was hardly ironclad.

Still, she'd brought up her background in logic engines just now without really thinking through the implications, and he still hadn't really responded. The more she considered it, the more plausible it felt.

...however, it would be stupid to judge the situation on its face. He could have realized and pivoted to hiding it just the same as she had, either because he merely suspected rather than knowing for certain, or simply didn't want to cause a scene. And even if that wasn't the case, the issue with this wasn't just that he might expose her identity. The fact he was here at all felt impossible to be a coincidence. Was Nhi behind this? What was going on?

She didn't like this at all.

"Why, like, are you here if you hate it so much?" Gudrun asked, then instantly flinched in anxiety of an overstep. "Sorry, not to be a-- Not to be weird, just curious."

"No, it's a fair question," Malko replied. "It's just a tradition, really. We've been going for nearly 30 years, so we don't get invited to anything else for New Years, so we keep going. And around and around it goes." He made a dismissive gesture. "And I am being a bit hyperbolic. It's not that awful. You do get to meet some interesting people."

"Like who?" she asked, probably trying to size up his social capital.

"Well, like you two!" he said with a smile. "Are you together?"

Lamu wrinkled her face sharply at this, turning away in embarrassment, but Gudrun took it in stride. "Oh, nah. We're just work buds. Buddies. Friends." Her brow furrowed as her brain searched for a bougier word. "Allies?"

"Allies sounds correct," Lamu said, pushing a stand of curly hair out of her face as she avoided looking at the other woman.

"Although, y'know, it's not like I'd--"

"We're here for professional reasons," Lamu cut her off quickly. "Primarily. For an informal meeting with some officials."

Malko nodded, giving Gudrun a mild side-eye for a moment. "I see, I see. Amidst all the decadent nonsense, I sometimes forget people actually try to do serious things here. Or, well-- Plausibly serious."

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"Decadent nonsense?" Gudrun inquired. "You mean like, the drug rooms and smell rooms and whatever?"

"Oh, that's the least of it! Are you staying for both nights?"

"Then take my advice," he instructed, pointing at her. "Stay well away from the spa after the formal closing time at 11. They keep the door unlocked but turn the lenses off, and a few of the regulars have a, well, let's call it an informal meeting of their own there every year, along with a number of guests who aren't, let's say, necessarily on the formal roster."

"To be clear, what exact level of sex pervert stuff are we talking here?" Gudrun inquired, seeming to be loosening up somewhat. "'cause when you put it like that like that, I can't help but be curious, but like, I do have some lines?"

He seemed amused. "Such as?"

"Well, y'know, I don't wanna see it if they've got sheep in there or some-- Or something. That would be nasty."

"You seem like quite a character, Gudrun."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It bodes well for my aforementioned entertainment, at least. Are you in logic engineering, yourself?"

"Oh yeah," she claimed. "I'm very logical. People are always saying that about me."

Lamu's mind continued to race anxiously as the two established a back-and-forth, still watching Theo out of the corner of her eye, who had now moved on to checking his own logic engine. Should she invent some kind of excuse to get up from her seat? Surely the longer she sat here, the more likely it was he'd make the connection. She didn't act remotely like she had as a child - thank the gods - but echoes surely remained in her mannerisms he'd pick up.

She swallowed. If he even so much as spoke her name, what would happen? This place was probably covered in cameras, and considering how many influential figures from different spheres were here, she doubted that whatever group Nhi represented could pull enough strings to bury the matter if it somehow came to attention. What would she say if he tried to question her?

She looked over her shoulder. Despite having only just sat down a moment ago, the ballroom had filled with guests at a remarkable speed, and the ambient conversation was slowly quieting as workers finished preparing the stage. Still, she could definitely still fake a stomach ache or something and make an escape-- But what if Theodoros started asking Gudrun about her the second she was no longer listening? If he did suspect, then her sitting across from him was the safest option.

A sharp breath. No; this was ridiculous. She was panicking over bizarre hypotheticals. People change their names all the time for all sorts of reasons, and it wasn't as though her crimes were a matter of much public record. He wouldn't know. Probably no one potentially listening would know. 'Lilith' was a strange name, but it from mythology. Hardly unheard of.

But still. But still!

Before she knew it, several minutes had passed, and they were bringing their drinks.

"Good evening, sirs and madams," the waiter - a different member of the staff - said, carrying the three bottles in a little metal rack and setting them down on the table. "May I present the evening's vintages; a Ropara Valley white, a Tem-Aphat Towers red, and champagne courtesy of the Altaia Guild of Vintners. All produced by hand from natural grapes of local sourcing."

Gudrun mouthed an 'ooo,' while the other two looked up at the man politely. "Ah, wonderful," Malko said, looking at the bottles like a disgraced warrior at his own sword. "Good selection this year, at least."

"Thank you," Lamu said automatically.

"Enjoy." The man, who was styled identically to Zhang but was not Zhang, held a leaf of parchment up as he looked between them. "Now, may I take your preferences for tonight's meal?"

"I'll, er-- Have the lobster soup with asparagus instead of bread for the soup, the peppercorn for the main," Theodoros said. "And the low-fat option for dessert, please."

"Very good, sir."

"The duck blood soup for me and the wine sauce for the main," Malko offered.

The man looked to Lilith. She blinked, struggling to recall the contents of the annoying menu, it already feeling like an hour had passed since she'd looked over it."

"I'll." She cleared her throat. "I'll just have some bread instead of the soup, please. And I'll have peppercorn on the main as well. ...and potatoes instead of the rice."

He nodded. "And for dessert?"

"The chocolate baklava."

"Excellent." Finally, he looked to Gudrun.

"Uh, I don't have any allergies, so I'll-- I'll take what the chef recommends," she said, obviously quoting this line from some drama she'd seen, even changing her affect strangely as she spoke it. She then mouthed the words 'fuck me up', but some executive part of her brain appeared to have the good sense to slam the mute button, so no words left her mouth.

"Very good," the waiter said, seemingly unphased. He looked back up to the group collective. "Well then. The first course will be served at 8:00. I bid you enjoy tonight's entertainment."

He bowed gracefully, then left.

Malko took a wine glass and wasted no time in pouring himself some champagne. "He says 'entertainment', but I assure you that the word is being used extremely loosely. Though at least all the way back here we might be able to roast it a bit without causing a stink." He glanced up at Gudrun. "You'll want to try the champagne too. The guild's product is always excellent. Ropara Valley's not bad either, though it somewhat depends on what the weather was like in Viraak 50 years ago."

"Ropara Valley, eh?" Gudrun took the bottle from him, taking his advice and pouring a glass herself. "I think I went there for a protest once."

"Oh, you're an activist?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." She glanced at the final bottle as she finished pouring and placed the champagne back in the container. "What about the last one? The white wine?"

He made a dismissive gesture. "Terrible. The anima scripting they have for the grapes is far too sweet. Probably angling for the cocktail market. You know how vertical farms are-- Always relying on some gimmick for their profit margins."

Gudrun made an unconvincing attempt to appear like she understood what this meant whatsoever, then tasted the wine, her eyes going a little wide. "Damn, you're right! This is good."

"Don't you think?" He chuckled. "They always say that with such a strong range available with modern replication that it's a waste of time to go the distance on this sort of thing, but the human mind longs for novelty. No matter how good it is, you can't have the exact same drink twice without some part of your subconscious taking objection." He swirled his glass. "Not that the whole venture isn't embarrassingly elitist in this day and age, but I can't help my vices."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with enjoying the finer things in life," Gudrun replied, tilting her glass to him. Lamu could tell, despite her distracted state - he was still on his logic engine, could he be telling someone about her on the down low? Should she get her own out and try a bridge attack? - that Gudrun was feeling pleased with her performance at this point, grinning like a hyena. She digressed back to the conversation they must have been having before the waiter had arrived. "So, you were saying how you two met?"

"Oh, it's a very dull story," Malko said, leaning back in his chair. "It was about 50 years ago, and I was doing some legal work with the Altaian Institute. This was back when Theo was just a professor. One day I'd been in a bit of a hurry and had to skip lunch - I think I'd dropped some of my files into the canal, some fool thing like that - and the headmaster did me the courtesy of letting me grab a bite to eat in the staff section of the cafeteria on my way out. So I ordered my food, and then out of the corner of my eye I spotted this man with his left arm in a sling."

"It was my right, actually," Theodoros replied, a slight smile on his face his only reaction to the story. "I remember because I could still write. Otherwise I wouldn't have come in at all."

"That's right, that's right," Malko nodded a few times. "Anyway, after that I spied the scepter at his waist, I thought to myself, 'what the hell is an arcanist, one at a healing academy doing with his arm in a sling? Wouldn't he just fix that right up'? And, well, I've always been childish to the point of curiosity, so I decided on a whim I'd harass him."

"Not quite how I remember it," Theo remarked. "I, er, seem to remember you staring at me across the hall like some kind of pervert, then us making eye contact and staring awkwardly for more than ten whole seconds--"

"Come on, Theo, let me romanticize it just a little bit," Malko cut in flatly. "We only met these people fifteen minutes ago. It's too early to reveal ourselves as the weirdest sons of bitches in this entire soup bowl of a world."

Suddenly, the shoe that ought to have already dropped several minutes ago finally fell in Lamu's eyes, and her mind shifted for a moment away from single-minded attention on Theo. Wait, these two are together?

That felt... unexpected. Theo had never struck her as someone interested in men. Rather, he'd always seemed obviously infatuated with Utsushikome of Fusai, presumably some crush borne out of their shared childhood. He seemed like one of those quiet sort of boys who were insecure to a point that they could almost be mistaken for asexual, but ultimately had, shall we say, very traditional tastes.

She flinched slightly, cutting off her own train of thought sharply. This is foolish. She'd barely started puberty the last time they'd known one another, so her impression from those days could hardly be trusted, and all the more Theo's sexuality was less than irrelevant to her current predicament. It was completely unworthy of mental resources to even evaluate.

"Anyway," Malko continued. "Eventually, I came over and asked to eat at his table - he said yes, of course - and after a few minutes of conversation, couldn't keep the question from my lips. 'So what are you doing, walking around with an arm in a state like that'? And Theo, he gives me this hilariously deadpan look, like he knew from the moment he saw me I was building up to this. Subtle as a brick wall." He shook his head. "And he tells me it was for a class."

"Technically, it was for research," Theo corrected him again. "The stuff I did with my students was just a, well, side-benefit."

"But you didn't tell me that at the time."

"Well, no."

"Wait, wait," Gudrun said, taking another swig of champagne. "You broke your own arm? Just for a school thing? Dude, that's intense as f-- As hell. Heck. Intense as heck."

"It actually went further than that," Theo corrected her, looking a little embarrassed. "If I'd just broken it, I would have healed it after the fact, so it wouldn't be in the sling. What I actually did was, er, take it off and put it back on."

Her eyes boggled. "No way."

"Well, more specifically, I took it off, replicated it, and then attached the replicated version," he explained. "It was for an experiment on cell integration at lower levels of replication fidelity, designed to speed up the process, which I decided would also be a good practical lesson on medical replication in the field generally."

Gudrun shook her head. "That's crazy, man. Y'know, I actually had to get an arm replaced just recently myself."

Theo raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh! I'm sorry to hear that."

"Nah, it was cool! Took about a week to work into it, but now it's been a couple months and my grip strength is better than ever. Should have been chopping bits of myself off years ago. Hey-- I think the guy who made it even used some Replication. Maybe some of your research helped me out!"

He scratched the back of his head. "Well, I don't know about that..."

"He's actually still underselling it a bit," Malko spoke, sounding rather proud. "You see, the other element of the experiment--"

Suddenly, the lights in the ballroom dimmed, and the arcane candle in the center of the their table - previously subtle enough that she'd barely even noticed it over the room's ambient lighting - became the primary source of illumination for their table, its reach extending just enough that, combined with the white tablecloth, made it feel like an island in a shadowy sea. Sufficient to see one's food and drink while everything else faded into the background. Spotlights fell on the stage. The chamber grew even more hushed.

"Ah, here we go," Malko muttered. "You'll want to serve yourself now, if you haven't already."

The stage was so far away that Lamu couldn't even make out the face of the blue-dressed, blonde-haired woman who ascended to the front, her voice amplified by the Power. However, her voice was immediately irritating, so Lamu assumed she was probably a celebrity.

"Good evening, everyone!" She spoke cheerfully. "I'm Maria of Ylvenos, and It's my honor to welcome you to the 51st annual Laodike Foundation New Years Gala and Fundraiser! I hope you've all settled in well and are excited for tonight's show and festivities as we say farewell to another year in the history of the Grand Alliance and the Mimikos. In fact, I'd be remiss to not point out the landmark nature of the date. Here's to another 200 years!"

--or something like that. It was honestly hard to hear precisely what she was saying between the distance and the fact that Lamu's brain aggressively wanted to tune out her voice. It was a generic opener. People cheered.

"We've got some excellent acts and speakers tonight, and of course our charity auction, but before I get into that, let's hear from our opening speaker."

"Wonder who they've dragged out of the political refuse pile this time," Malko, who seemed to be a man incapable of not laboring a point, commented.

"Please give a round of applause for former Underseer of Public Health, Bardiya of Tuon!"

He ascended the stage, white-robed and bearded. More applause.

At this moment, several things happened in sequence. The first was that Lamu's mind instantly realized that he was the one she'd forgotten, the one who she ought to have remembered most of all. And then the second thing, the followup realization: What the fuck? He was here too?

And then behind her, only at a slight distance, someone spoke: "So he is here."

And this became the third thing. Because when she glanced at the table behind her, she realized she was sitting directly behind Utsushikome of Fusai.