Rainblade-Ryalors Open Barracks/Imperial Condos In Memoriam

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna knelt and set the flowers down on the grave, replacing the dessicated husks that had mostly been overtaken by grass and weeds. She carefully brushed away the detritus that had gathered on the face of the tombstone, using her claw to clean out the engraved letters.

Dr. Julia Freedom
Thermidor 19, 1710 ~ Frimary 9, 1735
Beloved healer, wife, and mother​

A little cigar ash drifted down onto the top of the tombstone, and Marianna wrinkled her snout in disgust before wiping it away. "Could you not?" she shot at her brother, who shifted from footpaw to footpaw as he idled near the grave. "Have some respect for the dead."

Falun shrugged, taking another draw on his cigar and sticking his free paw into his coat pocket to keep it warm in the bitter Dismembre wind. "Don' see wha' differ'nce it makes. Th' dead don' know, an' sure don' care." He kept shifting as his gaze swept the tombstones and monuments of the Imperial Cemetery, scanning with almost a paranoid eye. Marianna knew from previous trips that her brother disclaimed any belief in ghosts or even an afterlife as pure superstition. His discomfort stemmed from something more primal: an unease with such a tangible reminder of mortality and the fleeting nature of life. Even Falun couldn't punch his way out of death, though he'd drunkenly sworn a few times that he'd deck any skeletal stoat that tried to collect his soul.

Marianna sighed, settling back on her heels as she knelt at their mother's grave. She stared at the letters, wondering on whose order they had been carved, and what they had intended by it. A beast she could barely remember, her entire life reduced to five words, only three of which were nouns. Had that been her father's work? Had he so little to say about the vixen who, if the biographies had been accurate, he had eloped with at only sixteen, throwing away both of their futures for a chance at love? The vixen who had stood by him through his rise and fall, only separating when his obsession overtook his reason? Or had the headstone been the work of a well-meaning friend, one struggling to define her through their own grief?

Falun tapped his cigar against the edge of the tombstone, the ash drifting down the back of the stone. "Won'er if dear ol' Da e'er visited," Falun mused idly. "Ei'er a' them, I mean - 'Nithias, or Vito. 'Ey, ya think 'ere was any truth t' th' stories 'at Vito an' Mum were grindin' th' corn t'gether?"

Marianna snapped, getting to her footpaws as she exclaimed, "Great Kitsune, Falun, what in the Hellgates is wrong with you?! That's our mother you're talking about."

Falun shrugged, turning and walking away. "Ain' our mother. Jus' a buncha bones, same as any. Yer th' one 'oo keeps draggin' 'er memory outta th' grave."

"Oh, go sod yourself right in the tailhole!" Marianna swore, vehemently making a rude gesture at his back. Falun casually returned it without glancing back at her, still puffing on his cigar as he meandered among the graves of mayors, ministers, and captains, leaving Marianna to grieve alone.

~~~

Aran Mateu stood alone at the grave, his ears twitching as he heard the distant sound of two foxes arguing elsewhere in the graveyard. There was a slightly tinny sound to it, the noise echoing off the field of carved stones between them. There were much nicer graves throughout this lot, even a few mausoleums and monuments that put the war memorials in the city to shame. The grave he stood at, though, was far more modest, a single stone set into the ground. This stone was faded, the letters nearly illegible from the elements wearing away at its surface. No one had come by to clean it or to trim away the grass; it seemed as if the groundskeepers themselves had forgotten about it.

Aran Mateu stood in his civilian clothes, the Miklarian-style coat and trousers his parents had crafted for him, and stared down at the nearly-blank stone. Then he reached down and carefully unbuttoned the straps around his crotch. It took a moment for the stream to start, the yellow liquid steaming in the air as it rained down upon the grave, spattering the tombstone and slowly revealing the letters carved upon it:

Colonel Whitaker Johas Khan
108th Battalion
First and Second Alkamarian War
Valles Mensa War​

Aran Mateu let the stream run until only dribbles bounced off the stone, then spat on it for good measure.

"Vai ranr runem, ques freiw danl."

"Rot in hell, you murdering bastard."

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Ivo did know that Marianna went today to one of the many graves that lied upon the largest graveyard in the Harbour. It wasn't a secret after all to him who her mother was and that Marianna did care for her, even if she didn't get to know her much. Imperial Cemetery was a place where most beasts who at one point or another were somebeast who mattered for the city, Imperium or were in general known. Being right between the Market and the hill with castle of Ministry of War, it was a massive area which Ivo knew to the dot. Not just because he was a city planner, but also because he went through it dozens of times, seeking any clue upon who his own parents were.

Using all that, it wasn't hard to find Marianna at all. She was in deep stage of grieving and Ivo couldn't stand idly and watch it from a distance.

He slowly walked forward, not bothering with stealth as he normally would. Soon he just stood next to her and put his paw around her, looking at the grave with respect and quiet reverence.

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

As Ivo came up beside her, Marianna glanced over her shoulder, relief and vulnerability washing over the raw tension of her nerves. She leaned into his sidelong embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she breathed, letting her tears fall onto his coat before they could crystallize on her fur. She felt an odd sense of premonition in standing here at her mother's grave, and she rested her paw on her own stomach, still flat as a board. She couldn't help but wonder if one day it would be her kit standing before her grave laying flowers. She prayed to the Kitsune and anyone else who would listen that it wouldn't come to pass. She trusted Ivo completely, and dangerous as their work might be, she was determined to see their kit, and any who might follow after, grow up happy.

Falun glanced up from where he was sitting at the base of Nuori Sken Freemont's massive obelisk tombstone, having extinguished one cigar on the granite and was currently lighting another. Marianna sighed as she murmured to Ivo, conscientious of how sound carried in the winter air, "I haven't told him yet. I don't think he'll give you grief for it, if only because he knows better than to involve himself in my relationships after the tail-kicking I gave him last time he tried to break us up."

 

[Ivo Suresight]

Holding Marianna in his arm, fortunately left his other, still wounded after Opera one, immobilised by his body. Fortunately because Ivo felt a strong pang to see if he could snipe the cigar with those shurikens from those few dozen feet away. He had no hate for Falun himself, he would share his indifference for the dead too, were it not the fact it was disrespectful to those who cared. In this case, Marianna. And he would not have any of it. Instead he just looked daggers at him, only breaking doing so when Marianna spoke, instead focusing on her.

Ivo nodded at her information and even grinned smugly at her remark, stifling however the chuckle to match the mood of the place.

"Well, I jus' hope he ain't gonna cause problems no more. Hard to believe sometimes ye and he had same parents."

At that he turned to the tombstone and looked at it more seriously.

"Speakin' of... Ma'am, my name's Ivo Suresight. Am yer's daughter toddfriend. Pleasure t'meet ye and I hope am gonna be everythin' t' 'er ye ever wished for ye daughter."

---

Kaii didn't have anybeast close that have died in Dismembre. The months he greived at most were Smarch and Merry. Especially the latter, with the festival of Sorrows, was exceptionally hard for him.

But on all other months he typically could just venerate his ancestors instead of feeling pain of losing them all... at least, that is how it always was.

The further away from being emotionally detached Kaii was, the more apparent and overwhelming his loneliness was. Without having somebeast around him, be it Mina, any of his Foskateer friends or even beasts who he simply considered pleasant to talk with, Kaii more and more often felt a burden of being the last one with the blood of Nashirou's, of losing his whole family and his twin sister.

Hence why, even if it was not a time for remembrence, Kaii felt an urge to spend time at his crypt not using it as his home, but instead visiting it for the true purpouse of it. To meet with the dead, feel the ancestors and their will upon his being.

And to avoid breaking down like he did so during the festival of Sorrows, he asked Mina to join him, wishing to also introduce her to his family, even if all of it was dead.

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

The grave was, as always, characteristically silent save for the low moan of the wind blowing between the stones around them. Marianna moved her paw from her stomach to rest atop Ivo's, pawfingers interlacing. "I don't know what she'd approve or disapprove of," she said softly, "but I like to think that she would be glad that you make me happy. I remember her as being soft and kind, with a warm voice. I think she was the kind of mother who would be happy for her kits, even if their lives weren't what she would choose for herself." She squeezed Ivo's hand as she added, "I hope I can be that kind of mother, though that may take some effort." She smiled up at him before kissing his cheek. "You might very well be the calm and approachable parent."

~~~

Mina Rose didn't have a lot of spare coin, but she'd scraped together what she could to get a bouquet from a local florist. The marten had steered her to a beautiful blue five-petal flower with yellow centers, which he'd named as forget-me-nots. The sentiment struck Mina Rose as especially appropriate. She'd parted with her fifteen gilders and left the shop, cradling the bouquet against her chest to shield it from the wind as she hurried to meet Kaii.

When she arrived, she gave him a careful, sympathetic hug, trying not to crush the flowers between them. "Thank ya fer lettin' me come wiv' ya," she murmured, stepping back and putting her paw in her long caramel coat, a recent acquisition from her day out with Ronan. She presented the flowers, remarking, "I hope 'ese are alrigh'. Ain' had much practice in how ta mourn proper-like." Her recent string of losses were still too fresh for her to develop her own rites of remembrance for her dead, both the ones she'd known and the ones she'd never know.

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

This was not the first time Tanya had been here, but it was the first time Jeshal had accompanied her. The walk to the cemetery was one of mixed feelings. There was amusement at the fact he was going to see his own grave. It was only for the fact he had been a minister on his demise that he would have a marked monument at all. If there had been a body, he wouldn't have been surprised to be told he'd been dug up and moved by his enemies. Had they buried his old gauntlet? Or was that sitting in a cabinet in the rebuilt Commerce somewhere? He wouldn't even have expected to be buried next to his wife, only the joke was that they'd got accidentally married before they "died" and, legally, there was a real possibility that it had been considered as much as his station.

Then there were other graves, ones that sat uncomfortably in his gut. Stark confirmations of the deaths of beasts that had been breathing when he left these shores. Ones he had taken for granted, mistreated, cared not enough for in his youth. How much he had changed, how many buried secrets this place dredged up. These old ghosts would not even recognise the creature here to visit them. A part of Jeshal did not want to face this. He had to console himself that deaths could be faked. They were living proof. Maybe, just maybe, some of these dead would not remain so.

What did one even do in a graveyard? All he had known were burials at sea or worse. And yet, because of that, these lonely markers felt wrong to him. He did not want to be confined in soil, unable to be free. What was the point in this garden of misery? Tanya would have to be his guide.

On their approach, he fancied he spied a familiar golden todd among a few others.

"Seems the dead have a bigger audience today," Jeshal murmured wryly to Tox.​

 

[Talinn Ryalor]

At at the edge of the cemetery, a small group of foxes was making it towards the graves of Nuori Sken and Julia Freemont in the cooler and drab weather that in his experience foreshadowed the onset of snow in a few days-an older todd dressed in a military uniform and black cloak walking with a pronounced limp, tricorn hat with red fringes, a black cane with a blue aquamarine pommel, and the traditional Fyadoran daisho sheathed wakizashi and sword, and about four other foxes dressed in strange cloaks of and leather armor with distinctive gray and black shading with the more standard assortment of Imperial weapons with crossbows, longswords, and daggers. One of them was walking beside the more elderly todd, with a concerned look on his face, while the former simply shook his head and continued to make his way towards the two graves.

“Sir, I must again protest, it is still not safe for you, Reston and his gang of supremacists have still not been caught, and there are rumors of even more who have it out for you. While I know our Mistcloaks are skilled, we should have pulled a full squad for this, or even the formal household guard. And...well...sir, after fighting that beast…” the younger fox hesitated and seemed at a loss for words.

The Duke of Westisle waved his spare paw dismissively as he quietly replied to the younger todd.

“I know you mean well, Matas, but I have to be able to walk through the city, to get a sense of the local beasts, and I cannot pretend to govern if I cannot travel freely. Our enemies, if they are watching, are lying low for now, and if I stayed entirely within the estate and only came out with such force, they would think me weak and invite more attacks against us. Besides, if I know the Lady Dusk, we likely have more than a few other allies lurking in the shadows somewhere around here.”

He shook his head and smiled wryly.

“And it is fine to say it, my young Captain, it is no use to dismiss the truth. I do not think I will ever again be as skilled as a personal fighter as I was before I faced down that beast from the depths of ‘Gates, and even if I had not suffered such serious wounds by him, age would have slowed me eventually."

He glanced down at Duty’s Burden and his wakizashi and sighed lightly.

“Perhaps it is time to give Alwyn this steel, for he will eventually make far better use of it than I…”

Talinn was going to say more, but as they arrived closer, he was able to make out more details about the three foxes standing around the grave of the deceased doctor and Minister of War, and noted that particular shade of golden fur on the todd lounging on the resting place of Nuori Sken, on his face returning to a more stoic expression as he internally blanched.

Of course I would run into them so soon, the Kitsune is a harsh mistress it seems. But on the other paw, I deserve that fully. Still...there’s another todd with those two. Is he the mysterious third that Vito mentioned? Doesn’t have the typical coloring that the male Freedoms seem to have, but that does not mean he cannot be him...then again, I never got clarification whether the third was male either.

He also caught the sight, approaching from the opposite direction as him and his men, two other foxes, these he especially recognized, and his normally hard stomach began to feel a bit queasy. It was Tanya, and that had to be Jeshal. He had never actually yet met the latter before, although he had seen him in passing at the events at the Opera House, or, at least thought he had, for there were not too many beasts who had such a distinctive and high quality metal paw around the same age. He actually stopped for a moment, and the rest of his procession did as well.

“Sir, is something wrong?” Matas asked, concerned.

Yes, Matas, there is.

His pale blue eyes flicked to each group as thoughts wracked his head, but he knew that, in the open like this, they would have seen him around the same time he saw them as well. He had three options-retreat, wait, or advance. If he did the first option, he suspected he would never live it down in Tanya’s eyes, if he did the second, he remained completely passive in the situation, which he hated and which went against every fiber of his being. So, much like in battle, if one had any doubts, the best option was to advance.

“No, Matas, everything is fine, we can proceed. Just some other visitors that I was not expecting to see…”

He continued moving forward, because that is the only thing he could do, both literally, and in many other ways.

@Ivo Suresight @Marianna Furotazzi @Tanya Keltoi @Jeshal the Ironclaw

 

[Tanya Keltoi]

Death prowled as an ever-present companion to Tanya. Even when she did not need to stare it in the face, it lingered day by day as a spectre in her peripheral vision.

The fragility of her own mortality had been learned from a young age, compounded swiftly by a litany of personal losses and the early grooming for the role of Last Quartermaster. She had seen beasts die, whether in combat or their beds or, overwhelmingly, by her own paw; seen what ship combat did to bodies and the gurgles of those whose lives she had claimed. Her own life in the Imperium had been one of survival, built on the paranoia of a life caught between the uncompromising will of power and the dangers of a city rife with violence.

Those had always been their own to navigate, but the personal losses had taken more adjustment; if she was honest with herself, the vixen had never found it any easier no matter how immersed she was in the brutality of Imperium life. Death was a comfortable inevitability for Tox, but easing the sting of loss remained impossible.

Grief had always been a private affair. From nights alone nursing bottles of spirits to long lonely walks beneath the stars or days high up in masts and rigging where she could speak her pain to nature itself, she had preferred the safety of isolation in her pain. Masks were a necessity in her job, and such had bled into her private life. This being the case, today was already not the first journey she had made up to the graveyard since her return. The personal visit had proved necessary; now, more composed, she felt secure in visiting along with her husband to show him both the good and the bad. At least between the pain there would be the existential bemusement of staring at their own graves once more.

As she padded beside Jeshal she regarded the first visible fox with a twitch of the nose – amusement – before darting eyes caught the presence of more beasts. And more. Here, with the young and the old and the strangers in numbered attendance, Tanya began to feel distinctly claustrophobic. She would – no, could – not give vent to her vulnerability before so many eyes, let alone strange ones. Her paw twitched, unconsciously longing to reach for that of her husband.

The walls were up. Tanya strongly suspected Jeshal would already know in the moments of seeing the gathering, but further confirmation came when her stride halted. “I didn’t come ‘ere to grieve in public.” Tanya uttered flatly, a childish petulance in her tone betraying the caution. “Why’s there so many crowdin’ this blasted place?!”

 

[Aran Mateu Jan Vidal]

As strangers converged on the graveyard, Aran Mateu hurriedly buttoned himself up behind a tombstone, his ears flattened to his skull. His disrespect for the dead, particularly for a decorated servicemember, would likely not be well-received by the Imperial populace writ large, and certainly wouldn't reflect well if it got back to his commanders. Carefully he backed away, trying to find a way to circle the new arrivals and get back to the exit.

~~~

Marianna's eyes rose from her mother's grave to look past Falun, landing on a small party approaching. She stiffened, her face stilling into an expression of rage. She knew who that fox was, of course; even if she hadn't a personal reason to be aware of him, one couldn't avoid hearing about the single most infamous beast in the Imperium. The sheer gall of him to come here, to step foot in the same field of graves where dwelled the innocent who had been murdered at his demand, rankled her beyond words.

Falun, at the same moment, glanced up and looked past Marianna and her beau to see a group of foxes he all recognized, albeit from two separate events - one of which had a gap in his teeth suddenly aching.

The siblings both spoke, each looking past each other at the uninvited guests to this mourning event.

"You've got to be kidding me."

 

[Kaii Nashirou]

After giving Mina the hug she deserved, Kaii took the flowers and gave Mina a deep bow. "I am the one who should thank you Mina. Those flowers, while I sadly know not what they are called, I presume were chosen deliberately considering you ask and that is more than enough for me to know." The marble fox smiled, seeing the flowers for what they were, a gesture of Mina's care. He did spot she was wearing a new coat, definitely not something he bought her nor suspected she could afford. Well, it was definitely a thing to ask about later, out of curiosity.

For now however another matter was at paws. The reason Kaii invited Mina here. After taking a moment and sombering greatly, the todd took her paw gently into his. "I have specific rituals for it. I do not expect you to participate, but I would welcome you to join me should you decide upon it. I will explain also whatever you desire, just do let me know you wish to hear it. The traditions I hold are very very close to me so I hope you will find them a least tolerable."

Kaii then lead Mina into the crypt. The one he called home ever since he came back to his senses. The lone brazier in the middle was quiet and the room was dark, still and in a way, serious. Holding Mina's paw, Kaii stepped to the brazier, where he pulled out a small mechanical flint and steel. With a flick of his paw, the brazier, adequately prepared by him before went ablaze in seconds with blue flames, shedding light onto hundreds of shimmering silver plates on walls, each one being dedicated to single ancestor of Kaii or their relatives.

"Anata-tachi zen'in ga yadoru tsuki no ryū no hi ga, kon'ya, watashi no senzo-tachi o watashi no moto e tsurete kite kuremasu yō ni... And welcome the beast I've bonded with, one I hope you all shall call a celestial daugher of moon dragon we all came from one day. Mina Rose."

Spoiler

May the fire of the moon dragon, in which you all reside, bring you my ancestors to me for this night.

---

Ivo didn't have much chance to respond to Marianna. Even though he wanted to do so, her words of reassurance just making him melt somewhat on the inside. He was sure she would be the best mother she can be and definitely he wished to be just as great of a father.

However, just as he opened his maw to speak, Marianna turned and Ivo followed. There was a group that was all but... scary. Not scary because they were actually scary. Scary because what their presence entailed. Here was the Duke Talinn Ryalor. One that Ivo had no love for, not just due to his infamy but also due to the lack of love for any sort of beast who were in charge... and this one had more power than most.

On top of that Ivo knew from Marianna that this was a beast who ordered for her mother to be killed. One that he just paid his respects to. Being as hot-headed as his fur would suggest, Ivo instinctively reached out for his hidden stash of shurikens, only managing to restrain himself because or the respect for the grave he stood at. It took him a second to come to his senses and realise that indeed, it would be very stupid and harmful to him and Marianna to try anything like that.

Letting out shuddery breath, the reddest fox got Marianna's attention by pulling her a bit closer into his side and looked towards Falun to speak to both of them. "'s much 's I hate t' be the one t' say it... We should either leave or just ignore 'em. I know yer two're harmed by this beast... but 'tis a terrible place to act up." His voice was very controlled and as such unusually flat. Trying to be reasonable in a scenario where Ivo felt danger or anger was a skill he had to learn early, but it rarely translated into his speech well.

 

[Jeshal the Ironclaw]

The wry smile dropped from Jeshal's face when they clocked the appearance of the duke with his entourage. He felt Tanya's tension a split second before she halted and voiced her displeasure. Jeshal was careful to smooth over his expression, returning it to one of his practised masks. Not revealing his true emotions to others was one of his finest weapons as much as it was a shield. There had been little opportunity or inclination to cross paths with Talinn at the opera and any prospective family occasions had been waylaid by the Imperium's necessity for another ship captain in the current political climate, something the two of them had chosen to take advantage of to get back into the machine of Bouillabaisse, amidst Tox's other errands for the family.

Trying to make their pause appear as smooth as possible, Jeshal half-turned to his wife.

"No odds ter me if ye fancy us taking our leave. Else I can go on alone? Swear I won't be treatin' any faces like our cabinet. Just... don't make me swear on anythin' valuable."​

 

[Talinn Ryalor]

The Duke of Westisle and his small yet elite escort moved forward, eventually stopping a short distance before the three other foxes already present. Three of the foxes began to fan out to secure the perimeter with their specialized crossbows, while Talinn and his young silver-furred Captain Matas of his household guard remained where they were, the latter slightly behind and to the right of the older noble fox in a more defensive stance, though his paws were not near the hilt of either his blade or dagger. After a slight pause and an even slighter nod, Talinn spoke, acknowledging all three of them.

“Mr. Furotazzi, Ms. Furotazzi, and…?” He glanced over at the third, unknown todd whose demeanor now indicated more of an intimate relationship with Marianna. So, not the third that he had been warned about. At any rate, he did not seem important enough to have drawn the attention by either his agents or his wife’s before this little event, but now he would be, if only because knowing who the lover of one of the two heads of the modern Furotazzi family was useful information, and the implicit leverage that could hold if the situation arose where they needed to be put on a leash.

You’re still just as cold and calculating as you ever were, aren’t you? Just as much, if not more so, than Dusk. You already killed their mother and father and you’re already filing away the identity of whoever this poor young todd is to threaten...or do worse to...his life if need to be if they move against your family.

The admonishment rang across his mind for a moment, before he swallowed ever so slighty.

But, now you now hope it will not come to that, and, you are doing your best to prevent so many beasts seeking to turn back the clock to the days of chaos that made you take such actions. And, maybe, starting today, you can start the work of atoning for some of your sins, if those two will allow you.

 

[Marianna Furotazzi]

Marianna clung closely to Ivo's arm as the foreign fox approached, considering his statement. They could just leave, but... No, she decided, squeezing the paw she had resting over her fiancé's wrist. This was her mother's grace, the one that he had placed her in. If he had the gall to approach her here, of all places, she would stand her ground. She had right of mourning here; he was an interloper in her grief. She would not make a scene; she would hold her ground with dignity.

Besides, seeing his men scatter to the corners of the graveyard, she knew that fleeing was useless. Vito had once remarked of Talinn that he was a hunter by nature: once he had the scent of his quarry, he never gave up the chase. It was one of the few things they had in common, though Vito always chased wealth, while Talinn sought power. Now he had their scent, and he was clearly seeking... what? Blood? Leverage? Absolution? Well, Marianna would not give him any of those things.

Falun still had the sight of something behind them, and Marianna afforded herself a quick glance over her shoulder. Some other group of foxes was approaching, a family by the looks of them. Something seemed oddly familiar about them, like she'd seen one of them before or maybe dreamed of them once, but she didn't have time to place the how and where as Talinn Ryalor approached.

She drew herself up as much as her middling height would allow, putting a haughty expression on her face. "My fiancé, Mr. Suresight," she introduced her partner, patting his arm. It was, she hoped, a power move; she knew that, with the resources that the Ryalor family had, finding out Ivo's identity, particularly with his signature red fur, would be a work of an afternoon. She fixed her gaze on Talinn, trying to mimic the imperious gaze of his wife. "My mother," she declared, gesturing to the grave as if making an introduction. "Dr. Julia Freedom. I believe you are already acquainted."

Falun, either expressing or more likely feigning disinterest in this latest visitor, pushed past, heading for that group of foxes. Marianna let him go, certain that whatever he had to contribute would not help the situation. His general lack of emotional subtlety rarely did, after all.

~~~

Mina Rose followed Kaii into the crypt, pushing past the sensation of the fur on the back of her neck standing up. Being raised in the Tookumberry Keys, where the dead were burned on pyres and their ashes returned to the sea, she found the idea of crypts unsettling. Who would want to keep the dead trapped in a box? It was so much nicer for them out among the sun and waves, where they could visit anywhere at any time. Still, these were Kaii's traditions, and she would honor them, even if she didn't understand them.

As Kaii introduced her, she bowed, using the sole word of Fyadorian she had in her lexicon. "Konichiwa, Mistahs and Missuses Nashirou," she addressed the assembly of silver plates, trying to manage a reverential tone. "Tis 'n honor ta make yer acquaintances." She looked to Kaii for guidance, uncertain of how to make a good impression within the dictates of his ancestral culture.