Chapter Nineteen: Avarice (Part One). 

Every wish every man has ever uttered beneath his bated breath is held in the hold of some distantly approaching ship. You can watch as they bob over and under the horizon, but they will never dock nearby. The ship is always another ship.

Ducissa Niamh Macau settled her castle of stone gold and iron marble at the fore of the ancient docks. Any ship, any wish, bowed before her and begged the right to come true. Once upon a time of kindness, a time when the Lady Macau felt her heart grow sufficiently heavy, she might have allowed one or two wishes to grace the dreams of young boys and girls. That time had passed. Now, dreams were offered at a premium, and wishes were subject to their appropriate taxes and registrations.

The human goddess, the goddess of currency; the patron of profit.

Her angels, men clad in pearly white steel, stood at nearly seven foot each. Taller each than Ash's spear, and much harder looking. Without a word, or even a mere acknowledgement of the simple mortals at their feet, they slid aside. The wrought iron gate edged open with just as little fair, and even less noise.

The house, or fortress, or temple, seemed closer in design to a village. There were a dozen houses across the stevs of fields within the guarded perimeter. Each built in the same fashion for a differing purpose.

There was a sealed smithy. A chimney as wide and tall as some watchtowers loomed over the stone house. The conical cap at its top held back the inevitable rains and split the abundant smoke out in all directions.

Aside the smithy was what looked to be a seamstress. Two women worked within as they peered out of the darkly tinted windows and caught their eyes upon the pilgrims routed for the holy lands.

Many other trades took place within the micronation, each of which resided within their own custom-built edifice.

They travelled along the golden path, doubtlessly paid for with blood by the pint. From gate to entrance was a greater journey than they had taken from their own borrowed manor to this apparently distant land.

Eventually, just before the sun gave up her strength and readied for her sapphire rest, they arrived at the temple's grand vestibule.

"Master Sujin," a young woman bowed. "I am pleased that you have returned to us so soon."

"Amadel, how are you?" Sujin beamed. He made no note of the woman's formality as he dashed before her and took her into his arms for a breathtaking hug. She giggled like a child as he lifted her off her feet.

"Sujin, stop it," she cackled but made no attempt to part the hug. "I have to look proper for your guest."

"Oh, of course!" Sujin suddenly realised. He released the young woman and helped her pat down her flowery service dress. "Amadel, this is Ashtik Sai-Weleg. The... er-"

"-Champion of Black, yes, we've been expecting you," Amadel interrupted with a polite smile.

"Don't worry about me," Ashtik quietly, and awkwardly, insisted. "You two catch up. I'm in no hurry to meet the Lady."

"That would be terribly inconsiderate of me, my lady," Amadel protested. "Please, come in. It will soon grow chilly out."

The black-haired woman held an arm out for the party, and Sujin was kind enough to proceed first. He looked back at Ash as he crossed the threshold in what must have been an attempt to comfort her.

The woman, Amadel, led Ash towards a comfy little room. It was so different from the rest of the palace. Humble and, dare she think, human. Cushions and blankets enough for an army of loungers. Not so thoroughly cleaned as to be utterly sterile, like every room she had seen so far. Ash was far from the sort to notice mess and imperfections, but so rare were they elsewhere that the abundance in this room became worthy of profound note. A dark ring atop a table beside a lounging couch from where some drink must have spilt. A slight tear in an old blanket that ought to have been retired a lifetime ago, and even a streak of dust atop a bookshelf where the only books looked to be some ancient musings on the principles of shipwrighting and basic economics.

"If you would sit here for a moment, Champion. The Lady will be with you shortly," Amadel said. She offered a seat atop some red velvet cushion across from a well-used armchair. "Can I get you anything while you wait?"

"No, thank you. I will be okay," Ash uncomfortably smiled as she took up her subtly designated seat.

Sujin took a seat beside the armchair and smiled at Ash as the other woman handed him a cup of tea. "I will go and fetch her. Just call if you need anything," Amadel offered before bowing away.

"You can go with her, if you want," Ash quietly snorted.

"We will catch up later, do not worry. I would not abandon you here," he chuckled.

"Well, is she your... erm?" Ash tried to ask. The words failed her, and Sujin looked at her as though he didn't know what she was asking. "Your, you know..." She mimicked a slightly too obscene gesture rather than outright asking anything.

"Oh, heavens no!" He gasped at the action. "There is no," he washed a hand in her direction, "squishing going on, if that's what you mean."

"No?"

"Absolutely not," he declared.

"Seems a shame, she's cute."

"Then, by all means, have at her. She is a dear and cherished friend. My oldest and greatest confidant. Close enough to a sister," he shuddered. "I shall not reduce her by saying 'and that is all we are' for a dearest friend is more than a simple lover."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Ash giggled. "I didn't mean to offend. I've just never met a man who wasn't interested in a woman like her."

"And now you have," he sighed.

"And now I have," she repeated.

In some attempt to avoid the awkwardness that she had accidentally stepped into, Ash allowed her eyes to dart across the room in search of some conversation piece. She found it within the large framed painting that hung over the fireplace. Within it stood three people. An older gentleman, an older woman, and what must have been their young daughter. The child clearly took more of her father's looks than her mother's. The father, an eastern man with a massive beard and dark skin, wrapped his hands around the daughter who looked as dark as he, despite her blatantly pale mother.

The daughter couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen, though the painter had captured a strange lack of youth in her fiery orange eyes. Her flowing blonde hair had been held over her left shoulder and covered a fair amount of her deep red gown. She wore an ornate circlet, studded with rare gemstones carrying magical runes.

The mother, no doubt the lady of the house, wore a severe mask. The painter had captured in her gaze, a terrible power to condescend. She dressed in what might have been considered male clothes by Forgeland standards, though she adorned herself with fine jewellery and a face of makeup to mask the many wrinkles. Everything about her lacked vibrance. The jewels she wore held no tint, and were set into mirror-like platinum. Her clothes were a fascinating mix of beige and brown, with a single navy blue fogle... for contrast. Even her face, made up as it was, seemed utterly washed out and desaturated.

It seemed a brave choice for the artist. No doubt it was she who paid his wages, yet he made no attempt to enlighten her nor flatter her. Where her husband seemed to suppress a smile, and the daughter seemed rimmed by angel light, the Lady Macau herself was utterly grey and hollow, excepting one virtue granted to her. Her eyes. Though they held no passion, nor joyous expression, they were possibly the most striking piece of the artwork. Pure and bright emerald green.

"Is that the Lady Macau?" Ash quietly asked.

"Indeed, though this painting must be older than you now. I believe it was painted some, twenty summers past."

"Are they all still... You know, 'about'," Ash awkwardly asked.

"No," he sighed. "Tis' just the lady now."

"That's terrible."

"It's inevitable, really. In truth, the Lady thinks it to have been one of the best things to have ever happened to her, in a twisted kind of way. Though, I don't know that she believes that. After he died, Kraimer – his name – she grew somewhat... nostalgic."

The idea knocked her sick. That she could ever consider the death of her husband and daughter to be not only a good thing, but the 'best'... She wondered what kind of monster she was to meet. Then her answer came, and the door creaked open.

"My Lady of house Macau," Amadel announced as she held open the door.

The striking emerald eyes of the old painted lady did not match with the amethyst of Ash's own. Instead, in came a radiant beauty with eyes of flaming orange and skin even darker and smoother than that of Ashtik.

She realised in an instant that the Lady of Macau was not the old mother, but the hollow daughter.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure to see you again," Sujin said with a bow so deep, Ash thought he'd hit his head against the stone floor.

"Enough of that, my boy. Come," the lady ordered with her slender arms outstretched for a hug. Sujin smiled as he entered her embrace. He stood a foot taller than her, though Ash noticed it would have been closer to two-foot had she not worn heels.

She jokingly pushed Sujin away from her as her eyes came upon Ashtik. A beaming smile caught her purple lips as her flaming eyes narrowed into a squint. She opened her arms again, though Ash didn't so much as move a muscle at the invitation. The Lady snickered and crossed the space between them until Sujin chimed up. "My Lady, I doubt she would be comfortable with that. They in Maester Veil tend to take physical contact as an intimate act."

"Ah, I see. My apologies darling. So many cultures, I get the customs all jumbled up. Maester Veil... You aren't the ones who touch your noses together to say hello?" She asked with a terribly elegant air.

"My lady, that would be the Quiloks," Sujin corrected.

"Ha, of course. The little mountain dwargons, ever so adorable. I had one on the staff for a time, but he was arrested for public indecency. A crying shame, he made excellent cocktails."

She stepped away from Ash with a bowed head and a cheeky smile that only caught the left side of her lips. Her pure crimson and black gown flowed too long for her to properly step backwards, so Amadel had to hold it up as the Lady took her seat. She held a palm out and motioned for the others to sit, then she patted her hand on the cushion to her side as she looked towards the maid.

Amadel quietly took her seat beside the lady.

"So," she quietly smirked. "What shall I call you? Ashtik? Huntress, Heretic, Sparrow-Knight, Star-slayer, Lady of dreams, or simply the Champion of Black? Heavens, how do you keep track?" She asked with an extravagant giggle. Ash noticed her left hand tapping against the wood of her lounger, while the overlong golden nails of her right hand stroked gently through Amadel's hair. The girl seemed to thoroughly enjoy it, so much so that it no longer confused her why nothing had happened between her and Sujin.

"Just... Ashtik- or Ash," she stuttered.

"Well... Ash," the Lady breathed, "After all you have done for me, you can call me Niamh."

"I- Done for you?"

"Oh, yes. You have brought my boy home to me, and you have made me quite the sum of money. My two favourite things in the whole wide world, wrapped up in a pretty blonde. Lucky me."

"Money?" Ash dumbly repeated.

"Yes, darling," she sighed. Her attention fell for a moment towards her maid as the points of her nails found the nape of her neck and left her quietly squirming. Her head lazily rolled back to Ash, who struggled to keep eye contact. "In the arena. Six-hundred to one. A little girl versus a mound of a man. How could I not bet on you? You were a sure thing!"

"You knew I was going to win?"

"I saw a girl, a third the size of her opponent, and I knew the look in her eye. She wasn't scared; she was thinking. A woman's weapon, I'm sure you agree. Any warrior who fights with thought is the victor in all battles. Naturally, I persisted in betting on you until the final bout, where I am sorry, but I did bet against you. Though in truth, I might say betting against you was a mistake," she calmly considered.

"But I lost the finale. You were right too," Ash nearly whispered.

"Indeed, yet it seemed to me a... final defeat."

"I... Thank you, but I'm sure I have plenty of defeats to come," Ash meekly protested. Her eyes couldn't help but affix to the display at Niamh's side. The maid put a visible effort in seeming collected, though it was a blatant effort as the Lady stroked along the side of her neck.

It seemed the Lady noticed Ash's gaze, and doubled her efforts under the spectation. She brought her hand high and rustled through the dark mess of hair, circling the point of her nail effortlessly. Then, she brought her hand back down and wrapped her nails around the woman's neck. It almost looked threatening, though the noise made by the maid was certainly not in protest.

"You do not seem the political type, Ash," Niamh whispered. "I doubt it was even your idea to come and meet me, despite the obvious wisdom in it." The lady drew her hand back and the maid followed it without thought. She chased the hand far enough that she had her head nestled against Niamh's shoulder. "You will need someone to... aid you, in that realm. This is why you are here, no?"

"I... I don't know," Ash admitted. "I need help getting the king's support."

"Excellent," she sighed, "and I can be that help. It must be fate that your Goden brought you to me, darling. Allow me to act on your behalf. I shall help you forge alliances across the world." She returned her hand to the maid's scalp and continued in her affections.

"And what do you want in return?" Ash asked.

"To save the world, darling. If I make a pretty penny along the way, so be it."

"You want to profit off of me?"

"Everyone does, that's what politics is; making money off of people rather than products. What's wrong with profiting off the Black Prophet?" She smiled. "Oh, look at that, another name to add to the collection. You're half as greedy as I."

"I don't-"

"-Somebody is going to profit, Ash. That's how the world works. All you can do is make sure that money goes to the right people."

"And you are the right people?"

"Better I than a warlord, no?"

"At least I know what a warlord is gonna do with the money."

"I shall do what I have always done; I shall comfort my city. Do you think these arenas and marble roads are as ancient as the temples? No, the gods do not care to expend their power here, so I expended mine. I gave the city new altars to pray at. Taverns for comfort, portals to show them the world, clothes on their backs."

She bristled through the maid's hair much more feverously. It left her a shuddering pile of dough in the Lady's hands. Then, at the height of it, she suddenly stopped and left the maid to regain herself.

"Without me, the comforts of this city end. With you, these comforts can be afforded to the whole world. This 'apocalypse' can be something else entirely if we just seize it. With you at the helm, and me acting as a simple advisor, we could enlighten the whole continent! Maybe the entire world. Whatever you need, Ashtik, I offer. Comfort, control, money or men. I will take you to Raven Keep and have the king himself shine your shoes, if you wish it."

The maid looked to her Lady with pleading eyes and a beaming blush, but received not so much as a glance.

"This is the price of my support, and it is a cheap one. I do not ask you to extort or ransom, nor shall I ever ask some immoral act of you. All I ask is that you allow me to forge you an empire of light," she said with an utterly unabashed and pleading tone.

There were too many thoughts in her head. Too many considerations. Too many consequences. She knew that she needed alliances, and she knew that some would use her for ill gain, but she didn't know if this Niamh Macau was one of these villains.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she truly was so worthless in regard to politics. Maybe it wouldn't have been utterly awful to have an experienced negotiator on her side. Plus, Sujin seemed to trust her completely and he had never struck her as an ill-minded man.

"If I ever think you are... acting evil," Ash whispered. "I'll do what I must."

"I understand. I swear I shall never put you in that position. Do we have an accord?"

"I hope so," Ash nodded.

"Marvellous!" Niamh exploded. She jumped from her seat and nearly crumbled when she realised that she wore heels, though Sujin quickly caught her. "Thank you, dear."

Once she was straight, she turned to Ash and shone her half-faced smirk. "I know your people do so hate hugs, but frankly – and excuse the language – that is bloody silly," she said as she drew Ash into a deep embrace.

"Now," she began as she withdrew and placed her hands on Ash's shoulders. "I shall see where the duke's organisation is up to, and then I shall drag you away to design you some appropriate attire for a royal audience. Something that screams, 'single and ready for politically convenient marriage'."

"I, er," Ash tried to protest.

"Oh, relax darling. You do not actually have to marry, I mean, look at me. Thirty-six and single... and not at all sour about it... Not even slightly... Ahem. Alas, the appearance of eligibility will make others more willing to open negotiations with you, even if it is not strictly true."

"Oh, okay," Ash simply replied. "Do you... have any advice for me? Like, what I should bring with me, or what I should do to prepare?"

"What to bring with you... Well, castles are all built by men, I doubt there's going to be many facilities for when you get your blood. Lots of unused cloths will come hand-"

"-I meant politically speaking," Ash desperately interrupted.

"Ah," Niamh snorted, "Of course. Well, all you truly require is that which is most important in life."

"Food?" Ash guessed.

"No, darling," Niamh sighed. "Friends, family... Those you can trust."

"That seems a strange thing for you of all people to consider as the most important."

"Oh, darling. Some folk are so poor; all they have is money. I am fortunate enough not to be amongst them," she said as she clung to Amadel's sleeve and shot a glance at Sujin. She drew a breath and puffed out her chest before declaring, "Now, I shall be having Sujin for a spot of lunch. He has no choice in the matter. But Ash darling, I would love to have you too, if you aren't busy. Though I shan't be so presumptuous as to force you."

Ash sought to act as her sister would. To say 'no' would be an affront, and yet Ash couldn't help but feel like she shouldn't interrupt this strange reunion.

"I would love to," Ash started, "but I am afraid I must... make away. My sister... awaits my presence from afar."

"Ah, yes. Evara White-tongue. I've heard tell of the young lady. She is the more... socially inclined sister, no?"

"She is," Sujin answered as Ash scrambled to find some words greater than three syllables. "With a fierce intelligence for her age, to boot. She and I spent the day at the library, I tell you she may so well have devoured the tomes, bindings and all. I truly believe the child will be Ashtik's greatest asset, whatever may come."

"Fabulous," Niamh clapped, "know that the two of you are always welcome in my home. I would so love to meet this smaller, chattier version of you, Ash."

"Thank you, my Lady. I will keep that in mind."

"No, darling. I am not your lady; I am your ally. Maybe one day I shall be your first vassal? But until then, just call me Niamh. Now, off with you. I would be loath to delay the composition of your day."

With a bow, Amadel ushered Ashtik away while Sujin and the Lady spoke of glad tiding and the adventures of Sujin's pilgrimage.