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feredarTitle: Value
Year: 986 FY
Characters: King Amassa, Princess Kesshare, Prince Isshiri
Isshiri found his great-uncle's study oddly comforting. Maybe it was typical for monarchs, or maybe it was just Amassa's personal taste, but the study was soft in a way that almost no other room in the City was. There were thick rugs and opaque hangings in rich colors, which made the room maybe a little warmer than was comfortable for non-mages, but for the mages in the court, it made the room even more welcoming.
But what Isshiri liked best about the room, much more than the inviting, safe heat, was that his footsteps sounded like anyone else's on the rugs.
So when he got word that the King and his mother wanted to meet with him privately, he was more than a little grateful to be summoned to the study, rather than the more official audience chamber. He went straight there after receiving the note and tapped on the door.
"Enter," his great-uncle called, and Isshiri pushed the door open and stepped onto the carpet.
"Isshiri, good," the King said with a faint smile.
"Thank you for coming so quickly," his mother added.
Isshiri bowed carefully to both of them. "Of course."
"We have a task for you, Isshiri," his mother continued, after a brief silence.
"How much do you know about the politics of Feredar?" the King asked him.
Isshiri blinked. "They don't like us very much. And they're suspicious of the Islands, and some of the other bigger city-states. They hate mages."
"Some of our agents there have sent us word that things are...escalating. And the reports we're getting are more and more incomplete," his mother said.
The King nodded. "To say nothing of the fact that some of the members of the council are less than willing to listen to the reports."
"And you think they'll listen to me?" Isshiri asked.
His mother nodded. "You have the rank to draw the right kind of attention, you're clever and have a good eye for detail. And I believe you would enjoy the trip."
Isshiri flushed. It wasn't exactly a secret that his driving fire was curiousity. And he was the right age to start pushing the limits of it, to make sure he had it under control before he entered adult society in earnest. And it would be nice to see a little more of the world... "I couldn't go as myself. Especially if things are as bad as you say."
"Which is the other reason I'm asking you," the King said. "You can use your father's House name, and have enough of a familial resemblance that you won't be questioned if there are traders who might have met some of your relatives."
He nodded. "What would my official reason for visiting be?"
"We'll send you with some glass pieces, and perhaps some turquoise and other semi-precious stones, to trade," his mother answered.
Isshiri considered it. "What will the money be used for?"
The King blinked at him, surprised. "Does this mean you agree to go?"
"I think so. But..." Isshiri hesitated. He was in every way an extra prince--barred from the succession since he was seven, and even if he hadn't been, he'd only be third in line. It wasn't exactly right for him to make demands of the King and Crown Princess. "I want the right to decide where the money I make from the sales goes. Whatever you decide to do with the intelligence I bring back."
"Did you have something in mind?" his mother asked.
Isshiri thought fast. "The Melanu Oasis is drying out. We'll need to tap another one in the next ten years. I want the money to go towards speeding the preparations up."
The King smiled. "Done. So you agree?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"We'll get your supplies together and have a more detailed explanation of what we want you to look for in a few weeks," his mother said. "I'd suggest you do some preliminary research."
Isshiri fought the urge to roll his eyes, and bowed again. "Yes, Mother."
With that, the two of them dismissed him and Isshiri slipped back out into the hallway, feeling oddly jubilant. It wasn't just that there was a specific task to tie to his wildfire years. It was the confirmation of everything his mother had been telling him since he was seven. Because in addition to all the reasons she and the King had given for sending him to Feredar, there was the raw fact that he was never going to inherit, which meant he could take the risk of exposure. There was a certain value in being expendable, and it finally felt real.
Year: 986 FY
Characters: King Amassa, Princess Kesshare, Prince Isshiri
Isshiri found his great-uncle's study oddly comforting. Maybe it was typical for monarchs, or maybe it was just Amassa's personal taste, but the study was soft in a way that almost no other room in the City was. There were thick rugs and opaque hangings in rich colors, which made the room maybe a little warmer than was comfortable for non-mages, but for the mages in the court, it made the room even more welcoming.
But what Isshiri liked best about the room, much more than the inviting, safe heat, was that his footsteps sounded like anyone else's on the rugs.
So when he got word that the King and his mother wanted to meet with him privately, he was more than a little grateful to be summoned to the study, rather than the more official audience chamber. He went straight there after receiving the note and tapped on the door.
"Enter," his great-uncle called, and Isshiri pushed the door open and stepped onto the carpet.
"Isshiri, good," the King said with a faint smile.
"Thank you for coming so quickly," his mother added.
Isshiri bowed carefully to both of them. "Of course."
"We have a task for you, Isshiri," his mother continued, after a brief silence.
"How much do you know about the politics of Feredar?" the King asked him.
Isshiri blinked. "They don't like us very much. And they're suspicious of the Islands, and some of the other bigger city-states. They hate mages."
"Some of our agents there have sent us word that things are...escalating. And the reports we're getting are more and more incomplete," his mother said.
The King nodded. "To say nothing of the fact that some of the members of the council are less than willing to listen to the reports."
"And you think they'll listen to me?" Isshiri asked.
His mother nodded. "You have the rank to draw the right kind of attention, you're clever and have a good eye for detail. And I believe you would enjoy the trip."
Isshiri flushed. It wasn't exactly a secret that his driving fire was curiousity. And he was the right age to start pushing the limits of it, to make sure he had it under control before he entered adult society in earnest. And it would be nice to see a little more of the world... "I couldn't go as myself. Especially if things are as bad as you say."
"Which is the other reason I'm asking you," the King said. "You can use your father's House name, and have enough of a familial resemblance that you won't be questioned if there are traders who might have met some of your relatives."
He nodded. "What would my official reason for visiting be?"
"We'll send you with some glass pieces, and perhaps some turquoise and other semi-precious stones, to trade," his mother answered.
Isshiri considered it. "What will the money be used for?"
The King blinked at him, surprised. "Does this mean you agree to go?"
"I think so. But..." Isshiri hesitated. He was in every way an extra prince--barred from the succession since he was seven, and even if he hadn't been, he'd only be third in line. It wasn't exactly right for him to make demands of the King and Crown Princess. "I want the right to decide where the money I make from the sales goes. Whatever you decide to do with the intelligence I bring back."
"Did you have something in mind?" his mother asked.
Isshiri thought fast. "The Melanu Oasis is drying out. We'll need to tap another one in the next ten years. I want the money to go towards speeding the preparations up."
The King smiled. "Done. So you agree?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"We'll get your supplies together and have a more detailed explanation of what we want you to look for in a few weeks," his mother said. "I'd suggest you do some preliminary research."
Isshiri fought the urge to roll his eyes, and bowed again. "Yes, Mother."
With that, the two of them dismissed him and Isshiri slipped back out into the hallway, feeling oddly jubilant. It wasn't just that there was a specific task to tie to his wildfire years. It was the confirmation of everything his mother had been telling him since he was seven. Because in addition to all the reasons she and the King had given for sending him to Feredar, there was the raw fact that he was never going to inherit, which meant he could take the risk of exposure. There was a certain value in being expendable, and it finally felt real.