{
  "$type": "site.standard.document",
  "canonicalUrl": "https://serpentsquiggles.neocities.org//posts/fiction/endless-stars/i2a",
  "path": "/posts/fiction/endless-stars/i2a",
  "publishedAt": "2019-04-13T00:00:00.000Z",
  "site": "at://did:plc:ivoe7cntxuy6at7uzmxzs2ft/site.standard.publication/3mfk6cpprzt2t",
  "textContent": "::: subchapter\nThe drake felt death breathing down his neck. He laughed.\n\n\"I cannot imagine killing me will end well for you⁠ ⁠---⁠ or accomplish\nyour goals, for that matter,\" he said, peering down at nothing. He\nsmelt the holly.\n\n\"One day I'll find the will, you know.\"\n\n\"What has it been? Ten, fifteen gyras?\" He fluttered his tongue. \"I\ndon't glimpse you doing this out of any lingering hate.\"\n\nSomething sharp slid into a sheath. \"I still don't like you.\"\n\nA smile she couldn't see. \"Understandable. But as long as you do this,\nI can't help but still see the knee high little moltling who couldn't\nhold a knife steady, or even pronounce 'kill' correctly.\" Quietly, he\nknew she wouldn't do it, knew she wasn't like him. Not Mlaen's little\nflower.\n\nShe said, \"I've come a long way.\"\n\n\"You have. And some things never change.\"\n\nThe larger wiver moved, and the smaller drake turned round.\n\n\"Quite the day we've had, Cynfe.\" Adwyn found his usual smirk.\n\nThe bluegreen wiver tossed her head and slinked past him, down the\ntwisting ramp. That ramp saw one into the town hall's interstitial\nlobby. One could only move forward through it: up the left corridor one\nfollowed the smell of pyrite and electrum; down the middle a ramp lead\nto the officialities of Mlaen's throne room, and on the right corridor\nthere lingered the dust from feet of all the foreign advisers. Adwyn's\ntoo.\n\nThe high secretary started into the lobby, and the military adviser came\nat her heels. She still wore the scaleconcealing cloak from earlier,\nand he still wore his schizon armor.\n\nScrolls rested here on shelves. Many were clawed in foreign tongues, in\nforeign scripts, and some were made illegible by time; no one had\nnoticed. Some of the rugs or banners here were woven of a curiously\nfine silk; no one could place it. Paintings touched all the walls,\ntempting the gaze of all who came down here. They all had the same name\nclawed in the corners; no one had complimented her.\n\nShe didn't even glance at the paintings as she high-walked past; but\nwith the frustration working through her frills, it could just be\nother things drawing her mind.\n\n\"A day spent cleaning up your messes,\" the secretary replied at last.\n\"I have a stack full of untranscribed reports lingering because of this\nmoil. Every day I wonder why Sofrani bothers keep you around.\"\n\nWho else was there? Instead of saying it, the adviser overtook the\nsecretary, aiming toward the dusty corridor, toward his office.\n\nHis orange tail waved her to follow, or dismissed her. \"I haven't\ndrafted my report either. It's the last remaining task, today.\"\n\n\"Knowing you, there's still some way you'll find to mess it up.\"\n\nAdwyn popped his tongue. \"I wouldn't look past the fact that we've\nuncovered no less than three traitors because of my detour, and I alone\npersuaded one of them to our side. A potential alliance with those\nhumans, three guards revealed to be ineffective, and---\"\n\n\"You can stop bragging,\" said the secretary, trailing beside him.\n\"Unless you'll also own up to the unprecedented mess you created,\nblocking all movement out of the market, and the three dead guards.\"\n\n\"Trivialities,\" he replied. \"My success speaks for itself.\"\n\nWordless, the bluegreen wiver followed him to the mouth of the dusty\ncorridor.\n\n\"...How lucky, that you didn't know them,\" she said. \"That you can\ncall them trivialities.\"\n\nAdwyn whisked out a wing, and trailed it along the wall. \"Rhyfel's\nspent enough time entertaining the pink drake. There isn't all that\nmuch to him, in the depths,\" he said. \"Wasn't, rather.\"\n\n\"Have you ever lost anyone, Adwyn?\"\n\nA question which merited no answer⁠ ⁠---⁠ a question he did not answer.\n\nThe wiver had her frills fluttering smugly as though he had, though.\n\nWith a tossed head he looked down the hall. Their leisurely pace would\nbring them to his office after another quick exchange. The orange drake\nglanced at the wiver.\n\nHe asked, \"What is your opinion of Kinri?\"\n\nThe high secretary flicked her tongue. \"Who?\"\n\n\"The exile, the sky-dweller.\" The embarrassing puzzle of a wiver.\n\nThe tongue disappeared, but no other reaction came across her bluegreen\nface. \"She's useless.\"\n\n\"It would seem that way, wouldn't it?\" She would like it to seem that\nway.\n\nThe secretary peered. \"I know that look. You're thinking the precise\nopposite of what you're saying.\"\n\n\"You cloud me. I mean exactly what I say. There are, perhaps, elements\nI have omitted.\"\n\nThere was only a hisslaugh, and her saying, \"Transparent.\"\n\n\"Is that a bad thing? After all, they say a cliff drake should be like\nglass: cool and trans---\"\n\n\"Cool, and transparent, and brilliant. I know the saying. I've lived\nhere longer than you.\"\n\nThey slipped into the corridor. The light came dimmer here, and now the\nmurmur of phatic conversation was rearing up in their frills.\n\n\"Irregardless,\" the military adviser started, \"it's an odd thing to\nmaintain, when Kinri did matter in the resolution of\ntoday's⁠ ⁠---⁠ incident.\"\n\nA hum. \"No surprise you'd be one to appreciate spineless diplomacy. We\nhad those apes at their throats.\"\n\n\"If not for peace, appreciate that this will leave us glimpsing the face\nof whatever conspiracy festers in Gwymr/Frina.\"\n\n\"We already have a thief captured.\"\n\n\"A thief who only admits to getting orders from some blighter claiming\nto be the shadow of the night.\" Who could trust that testimony?\n\n\"Give them time. The inquirers know how to get confessions.\"\n\nSo they walked wordlessly on till Adwyn turned the doorway to the office\nof the Dyfnderi advisers, where a light orange wiver had another, darker\norange drake up against the wall, snouts pressed together.\n\nHe turned back around, and they continued walking.\n\n\"What about Hinte?\" Adwyn asked.\n\nThe secretary found a smile. \"Her. She's cute. I do wonder what'll\ncome of her as an adult.\"\n\nAdwyn hummed without response. He said, \"She worries me. One of the\nsuspects was found by her admission. And emotionally⁠ ⁠---⁠ she's\ncryptic.\"\n\n\"She's lonely. You would be too, if your only friend was that Specter.\"\n\n\"There is the halfbreed, Digrif. She seems to tolerate him.\"\n\n\"Oh? Good for her.\" The secretary licked her brilles and smiled a\ndifferent sort of smile. She was adding, \"Gyras ago, Gronte was telling\nme how melancholy the wiver was.\" Her voice dropped to a murmur. \"I\ndidn't have the time to spend with her, then, and... that still hasn't\nchanged,\" she said. It had the whispered quality of a confession, and\nthe wiver was watching the rocky floor shift as she walked.\n\nAdwyn's low walk gained some stiffness. At length he said, \"You keep\nGwymr/Frina running. Don't think you weren't serving her anyway.\"\n\nCynfe threw out a foot and shoved the orange drake to the side. His\nwing folded against the wall. She said, \"I didn't ask for your\nglassblown words. I can manage myself. I'd rather.\"\n\nThe adviser always walked with a baton, strapped to a foreleg. Now a\nwing brushed the hilt. Lingered for just a moment. Adwyn, the black\nascendant, had sworn a vow of pacifism; he reminded himself. Violence\nwasn't proscribed; but it was discouraged.\n\nThey continued walking like that, strides more distance between them.\n\nThis corridor didn't end. As it wound along, it curved. By now, the\npair had looped around and were walked up the other hallway.\n\n\"What was the point of dragging me along?\" asked Cynfe.\n\nYou chose to follow me. He didn't say it. He licked a brille, tongue\nnimbly curving around his eyepaint. He chose to say, \"A nice walk and\ntalk with a friend?\"\n\n\"I recall more of your sifting for opinions than proper talk.\"\n\nHe nodded some acquiescence. \"Fair enough. But the pair is becoming\na quantity of interest. Surely it's worthwhile that we read each\nother's pages on the matter?\"\n\nThey padded back into the lobby like this. Without answering, Cynfe\nstrode over to the mouth of the ramp downward.\n\nThere was no bridge. She simply informed him, \"Mlaen-sofran is\nexpecting you.\"\n\nHe clouded his brilles, thought of the pair of Dyfnderi advisers,\nfrowned at the unwritten report that would for now remain so, and said,\n\"I suppose I'll see her now.\"\n\nShe let the drake follow her down the ramp to Mlaen's officialities.\nUnder her breath, she muttered, \"I still don't like you.\"\n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\"You fucked up, Adwyn.\"\n\nIt wasn't the throne room, but standing on her dillerskin rest, wearing\nthose vermilliondyed robes, staring down at the orange drake with her\neyes strangely intense, that seemed a detail.\n\nThe red wiver had moiled in the dim of a single lamp, and now Cynfe\ndarted around to light a few others. The reality that was limned in\nfull light contrasted without contradicting: the faer's posture hung\ntaut and rigid, as if she were wrung up; her makeup had been washed away\nyet an acidic smell hung around; the two lamps were shining behind her,\nand the swelling shadows under her eyes weren't just the lighting.\n\nThis was the faer of Gwymr/Frina. Perhaps the one truly exceptional\nplayer on their side of the board, barring Adwyn himself. With Bariaeth\nbeing... difficult⁠ ⁠---⁠ crytic behind his beatific smile⁠ ⁠---⁠ the\nfaer stood the last remaining beacon for reaching the mystery at the\ndepth of this mess.\n\nAnd he had disappointed her.\n\nAdwyn watched the red wiver settle back on her dark, dillerskin rest and\nwatched her gesture for him to sit himself on a rough pycnofiber mat\nlaying small before her desk. \"I know,\" he said.\n\nThe secretary stood herself at the faer's right side, inkwell and\nfernpaper in wing, her scowl turned blank and receptive. Idly she was\nbrushing her robes.\n\nAs ever, Mlaen-sofran watched. Contemplative, analyzing, regarding,\npeering, looking: all of these, but there was something more,\nsomething hidden. As ever, her brilles remained clouded.\n\nBeneath her eyes a snout extended until its sharp end, where red\nlipscales wavered between an almost smile and an almost frown. A wing\nscratched her cheek; she yawned. Then at last, she looked down.\n\nThe slab of Mlaen's desk w",
  "title": "Confess"
}