Date: July 14, 2000 (Aether: October 13, 3906)
Place: Bidding Arena - Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven
Cast: Amipal, Arianna, Aristedes, Artemus, Bauchus, Jana, Niamh, Thalia (@emitting auctioneer & slaves -- Kamaden, Pajim, Ayin), Zada
Scene: Three young sons of Hassam ibn Talim Zulla Tumdari are sold into slavery after their father's execution on the grounds of treason, for he had been involved in a plot designed to assassinate the Queen-Maharani. To make the shame to Clan Tumdari complete, the three boys are sold to Empyreans.

Bidding Arena - Courtyard - Atesh-Gah - Haven:
      Sturdy ropes and guards ring this area of the Atesh-Gah garden but they cannot keep out the rich, lush and heady scents of the surrounding greenery. A dais of wood has been constructed at one end of the area for the display of the slaves, complete with a podium for the auctioneer. For the rich and noble visitors, chairs and cushions are arrayed in neat rows right up front. Everyone else will have to make do with the bare, soft lawn behind the wealthy.

The three sons of Hassam ibn Talim Zulla Tumdari:

Kamaden is the youngest son of Hassam ibn Talim Zulla Tumdari. His skin is dark, like old bronze, and his eyes and hair are black. He has not grown into the lean chisled features of the typical Varati male - he still has the smooth, rounded curves of childhood. However, he does look older than his seven years, and much of that maturity has come to him recently. He is dressed in plain undyed cotton dhoti; other than that, his only garments are the chains which bind him. He keeps his gaze downcast, not looking around. When he is seated he wraps his arms tightly around his shins; when he is standing he hugs himself.

An eight year-old boy, Pajim is the middle son of the executed Hassam ibn Talim Zulla Tumdari. He has black hair and black eyes and his skin is the color of smokey bronze. He lacks the strongly defined features of an adult Varati man but there is a terrible maturity in his demeanour - none of the childhood exhuberance or innocence is present in this boy. Like his brothers he keeps his gaze downcast and usually has an arm around his younger brother, Kamaden, when they have not been separated.

Ayin is just beginning to lose the roundness of his childhood features to the more striking, chisled look of adulthood. His golden-brown eyes are even older, though, especially when he looks at his brothers. He keeps close to them when he is able: with the death of his father he is now the eldest male of his family, for however long it remains this small nucleus of three boys. His skin is dark brown and he wears the plain undyed cotton dhoti and chains of a slave.

The tramp of feet signals the arrival the Queen-Maharani. With the plethora of guards already in the area, it is not surprising that she is surrounded only by a star of Agni-Haidar, including Kaimakam Amipal Chandrima, and five Atarvani rather than the miniature army which usually accompanies her. She strolls into the area, moving toward a chair near the back of the bidding area.

The arrival of the Queen-Maharani also signals an increase in activity. The Varati auctioneer, a quiet self-possessed man, murmurs to one of his assistants who shouts into the air, "Welcome, dominae and dominii to the disposal of the traitors of Clan Tumdari. Before the auction begins, potential buyers may look at the three sons of Hassam one more time." With this, the three boys are paraded before the crowd.

A rustle on the edge of the crowd signifies the arrival of somebody new among this gathering silk and feathers. A space opens around the golden-haired Benedictin as well-placed flight feathers and elbows allow him to make way through the press of crowd. Still, he keeps to the periphery, not having the status yet to deserve a center stage seat. Grey avarice tinted eyes fall upon the boys who are displayed for the pleasure of the buyers, and a slim grins cradles Bauchus lips. With the introductions, he takes the opportunity to scan the crowd for familiar faces, and perhaps the chance of a better view.

An unlikely trio arrive in a slightly belated fashion to partake in the activities: Dominus Aristedes Thanatos, with Domina Jana Tritonides on one side of him and Domina Arianna Augustin on the other. A slight quiver of breath is taken and held as he gently reaches for either woman's arm, and provided they do not object, leads them towards the more comfortable seats. "We shall likely have to stand now," the man darkly mutters to his companions, though pauses into silence to get a closer look at the boys as they are passed close by.

Without objection, the arm of the Oracle slinks through Aristedes' own. It is more of a distracted movement, as her eyes are busy roaming over the sights. An eyebrow is tilted upwards at the sight of the boys being paraded about. Lips purse into a thin, tight line, but for now Jana holds her tongue. She allows herself to be led along towards the seating provided, and beneath her breath, she comments to the man at her side, "I do not mind standing." She casts a sidelong glance at Arianna, idly wondering to herself if the noblewoman will make any protest about the lack of a chair.

Wordlessly, Arianna's arm shifts to allow Aristedes to collect it, even as he's met with an uneasy stare. "Nor do I," she adds to the pair, sandaled feet scuffling along at the Dominus' guidance. But as they approach the lavish seats, her head cants by small measures, hand lifting to point towards three seats in the back row. "Ah -- there are some seats right over there?" Lapsing silent again, overly large eyes roam over the crowd that has gathered, and the boys on display. Slightly daunted by the gathering, wings absently twitch in towards her back as a shudder ripples over the thin line of her shoulders.

Once the boys have been shown around the area a final time, two of them are led over to the side of the wooden platform while the youngest boy is taken up onto the stage. The auctioneer takes his place behind the podium; a glass of watered wine sits on the corner, ready to quench a parched throat.

Dark of skin, like all Varati, Kamaden is the shade of old bronze. Black hair and black eyes cap a round, childish face. His arms are wrapped around his chest, and those close to the stage can see the metal of the binding chains biting into his chubby flesh, betraying the tightness of his grip.

Zada slips into the back of the crowd, anxious to investigate all the noise. She's heard about the auction today, and wants to see exactly what it is. Even though she's supposed to be up taking a nap. But Alaia and the babies were all asleep. Unable to sleep due to her curiosity, she decided to chance it. Her wings are drawn up tightly to her back, what with all the strangers that are here. It wouldn't do to have any Empyreans decide to try to steal her away. She's always been afraid of that, ever since Zuhayr warned her to be careful after she first came to live at Atesh-Gah.

Thalia settles back in her chair, wings fanning. While she folds her hands in her lap, the auctioneer's strong voice rings out over the crowd, "Dominii, here is a fine son of Hassam Tumdari. Though his father was a traitor, the youth of the boy makes him an excellent choice for training. Let us open the bidding at five soldi. Do I hear five soldi?"

The noise also caught the Estrel's attention. He had thought to spend some time in the Temple, but curiosity brought him here as well. Standing near the edge of the crowd gathered for the bidding, he can't help but frown. Atarvani don't keep slaves... and even though he was there when the fate was decreed, he can't but help that these are three that will be lost... their souls will reject the Amir-Al and thus never return once their bodies have died. Shaking his head silently, Niamh works through other punishments that could have been just as effective.

A glance of pewter eyes towards the sky to measure the placement of the sun, and then a silk cloth wipes the dew of sweat from Bauchus' brow. The motion of a trio of grand Empyreans that move towards the front catch the attention of the pale-skinned man, and the familiar uncertain step of Arianna tugs the lips of Bauchus into a grander show of amusement burgeoning on joy. Jana, too, is recognized. The murmur of half-voiced apologies and disgruntled mumblings trail in the wake of the sun-crowned man as he moves towards Arianna and Jana, coming up behind them, words mingling with the background din, but discernible nevertheless. "Arianna. Jana. Perhaps you could introduce me to your friend?" His long shadow falls across them.

An agreeable nod is directed towards Arianna and Aristedes begins to move towards the open seats with a gentle tug of Jana and Arianna's arms. Though he is brought short as the auction begins at the same time as Bauchus approaches, his pause attributed to both. Releasing the Domina Augustin's arm, a hand cleanly waves in the air to open the bids, thinly pursing smile directed towards the man before him in distant study. "Dominus," he greets curtly, and then waits for either domina to supply the introduction, at this man's request.

Jana shudders as if the shadow of death had fallen across her, just as she was about to yank her arm free from Aristedes. Peering over her shoulder, between the fall of her grey hair and the arch of her blood-stained wing, the Oracle's eyes widen in recognition. "Dominus Benedictin... What a surprise!" That is perhaps an understatement. "This is... Aristedes Theodosius Thanatos." Her own smile has a bit too many teeth showing to be entirely genuine, and indeed, her eyes are full of a sudden uncertainty. Strangely enough, too, she seems to have forgotten entirely about freeing herself from Aris' grip.

Zada frowns as she hears the seller's voice. His father a traitor? Oh, then what should become of her if her father should ever slip into that? Not that he would, but Zada worries about such things. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the approach of the black sark with red-embroidery. She's not used to seeing Niamh in that color, but she does recognize him anyway. She straightens, wings flaring as she rushes at him, her arms open wide. "Imphadi Niamh!" she calls out, though softly so as not to disturb the proceedings.

With the opening bid, Bauchus deflects his attention away from the feminine pair and the man they bracket to settle it upon the young lad that now holds the audience captive. The fate of a child balanced on the weight of a coin. Once Aristedes makes his bid, Bauchus' voice drifts over the shoulder of Arianna, a hand raising to get the attention of the auctioneer. "Thirty soldi." A quick calculating glance is sent to the crowd to measure the reaction to his own bid.

Niamh turns at the voice and actually smiles despite the location and event going on around him. "Imphada Zada!" He pulls a bit away from the crowd and kneels down so that he's closer on the girl's level. "This is indeed a pleasant surprise. Are your parents here with you?" After all, why should a young child be out alone at a slave auction?

Kamaden's eyes look down at the wooden stage rather than at the crowd. His youth prevents him from hiding his inner feelings and as the auction begins; it can be seen that he is mightily disturbed, but sound does not issue from his mouth. His plain, undyed cotton dhoti only accentuates the darkness of his skin and the pallor that begins to seep across it as Bauchus raises the bid.

Arianna's right eyebrow twitches up slightly as she glances between the bidding men, cheek twitching while the remainder of her countenance remains pleasantly impassive. Straining up against her toes, she studies the boy displayed on the stage with a furtive gnawing at her lower lip. The hand that Aristedes had freed raises up in the air swiftly with a tiny wave, her dulcet voice ringing out, "Fifty soldi." Cheeks puffing out slightly with a released breath, she eases back to her heels and turns to the Empyreans nearest her.

Thalia does not join in the bidding. Instead, she allows herself to be distracted by a young shudra girl who has appeared with several glasses of beverages. Taking one chilled glass, the Queen gives the shudra a benevolent smile. For those without their full attention on the bidding, it can be seen that the Queen looks over at Amipal and only after a faint nod from him does she take a sip of the liquid.

As the bidding moves into full swing, other shudra and naraki appear with trays of drinks. Quietly, they offer them to the Empyrean bidders.

Zada looks like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar even as she wraps her arms and wings around Niamh. "Mama and the babies are sleeping," she whispers. "Daddy is on duty." Somewhere. She points up to the slave arena and in a concerned voice asks, "They won't ever sell me, will they?"

The Varati auctioneer beams at the crowd. "Look at the boy. He is only seven years of age. Malleable and moldable, he will make one of you an excellent naraki. Do I hear sixty soldi?"

Aristedes seems to have forgotten that he clasps Jana's arm in his possession, as well, a mild frown directed at the back of the man before him as the bid is raised. Shoulders roll back to relax the taut line, chin lifting up to call out the bid to challenge the fair Augustin's. "Seventy soldi," he intones precisely, with an upshoot of his hand, gaze lingering on Kamaden thoughtfully for a long moment before drawing his attentions away. Eyes unfocus and settle on the crown of Jana's hair, countenance frozen in tense concentration.

Surprise is evident in the quick ascent of Bauchus' elegantly curved eyebrows as Arianna puts in her own bid; he was under the mistaken assumption she was here merely to enjoy the festivities. A quick whisper, loud enough for her companions to catch, darts towards the Domina's ears. "I am surprised, Domina Augustin." Though he forgoes further explanation and lets his hand drift upward once again above the pale-hued sea of hair, just after Aristedes' own bid makes itself known, and then Bauchus' hand drops, the bitter edge of defeat invading that expressive mien, changing the course of that hand so it might relieve a naraki's tray of its burden.

Niamh's bespectacled gaze moves up to the auctioning block a moment before looking down at the young one in his arms, "Their family committed treason against the Amir-al, Zada. Your family would never do such a thing. Even then, they would never sell you... I would make certain of that." But he does wonder what will happen once Zada is of marriageable age. Would they urge a Varati match? Or try and find an Empyrean for her? Closing his eyes a moment, he tries to banish the thought. "You needn't worry, Imphada... you are very safe."

The Varati auctioneer does not raise his gavel to end the bidding. Instead, the hand gripping the wood tightens while his voice calls out, "Do I hear eighty soldi for this fine young man? Look at his fine strong limbs, excellently shaped. Eighty soldi cannot be too much."

Artemus reaches out to claim one of the drinks from the tray that is passed around. It seems it is only to occupy his hand, however, as he glances at the liquid inside with wary distrust. Returning his gaze to the stage, and then letting it float over the others present, he observes who bids and who does not... and how much they bid.

Zada nods slowly. "If they did... would you buy me, Imphadi Niamh? So I don't go to the Empys." Her wide eyes plead. "There are lots of Empys here," she says with a little sigh. Oh, she already knows the answer to the marriage question. She is to become concubine to a Varati. And she has vowed to be a very good concubine, like her mama. And she will have lots and lots of sons to make her protector happy.

Now that the bidding has begun, Jana turns wide eyes at the boy upon the stage. She is stunned into silence, so much so that she does not note the naraki's presence. A shudder passes through her wings, and, lifting a hand to her brow in order to shield her eyes from the sun, she suppresses a sigh. Slowly, she tilts her head up, casting a narrow-eyed gaze to the man at her side.

Kamaden's arms grow tighter and tighter about his torso as the bidding continues. Though he continues to stand as tall as his seven years allow, the grip of his arms almost makes it seem like he desires to implode on himself. Finally, his torture is ended as the sharp rap of the auctioneer's gavel is followed by the authoritative words, "Sold, for seventy soldi."

Leaving the stage, Kamaden looks at his brother, being led forth by an Agni-Haidar. Pajim reaches out a hand, touching Kamaden on the arm before he ascends the stage.

Bauchus is regarded out of the corner of Arianna's gaze, through the shadow of fallen lashes. Her reply is even, smooth, attempting to hold the quiet horror at bay, "My father was unable to attend, so I came in his stead, Dominus." As Aristedes once again raises the bid, her own hand flutters as though to raise once again, but pauses at the determination that she espies on those proud features. And so the first round of bidding ends, and speculative attentions turn towards the child who might next follow.

Niamh can't help but watch the touching exchange on the block. Secretly, he hopes that whomever bought the one brother will buy the other. His attention goes back to Zada, "I give you my word that if, for any reason, you are to be sold, I will purchase you, no matter what the cost." But she is with a fine household... he doubts that will ever happen. "Tell me..." he tries to keep the girl's attention off of the bidding, "how are your studies coming along? What have you been learning?"

Thalia slowly sips at her drink as she looks over the eight year-old son of the executed Hassam ibn Talim Zulla Tumdari.

Pajim has the same black hair and black eyes as his brother Kamaden, but his skin is the color of smokey bronze. As his touch has already shown, this boy is mature beyond his years, for all that his face has not lost its baby-soft curves. It is the eyes that are terrible. For a brief moment, they look out over the crowd and they are not the eyes of a child, but that of an old man who has seen and experienced too much. Then, Pajim's eyes fall to the wooden stage, staring at a space between his feet.

The Varati auctioneer takes a sip of his drink, then clearing his throat he calls out, "This is Pajim, the eight-year-old son. Let us start with five soldi. Do I hear five soldi?"

Artemus raises his hand to answer the bid, "Five soldi."

Zada breathes a sigh of relief, putting her hand in Niamh's. "I am so glad. I would rather live with you than anybody except Mama and Daddy. I am learning to read and write. I am wise. That's what Daddy tells me. Mama and Mekhti teach me to read, and when the boys are older they will learn, too. Did you know we had a baby girl now? Her name is Sabirah." Despite her tirade, her eyes are on the sales block. She sighs. "Those poor boys. It's not their fault their daddy was a traitor, is it?"

Now that a price has been set, Bauchus has a feel for the crowd and the kind of money that is being thrown around. His gaze narrows with concentration that closes off the sensory input around him. In the oblivion of logic, he makes mental calculations and gambles, before he is pulled out his self-imposed mental exile by the strong tones of the Varati auctioneer. Once more, the tightly coiled words unwind in the air above the gathered. "Five and fifty." A hint of impatience manifests in that short, sheared words.

Artemus's green gaze is caught by the young Empyrean girl dressed in Varati garb, and his lips twist in distaste. Her conversation with the man is overheard and noted. How did an Empyrean child come to the care of a Varati family? Who allowed such an outrage?

Now, what should the Estrel say to that? "No, Imphada Zada... it was not their fault," Niamh offers softly, "But a lesson needs to be taught, and many of life's lessons are difficult. They need to learn that they must respect and worship the Amir-Al... and to displease him will cause great suffering." But to be sold to Empyreans as naraki... wouldn't death be kinder and just as finite?

Down the length of his proud, patrician nose, Aristedes regards Bauchus with a slight upturning of his stern mouth. Attention focused primarily on the crowd, and the activities on the dias before him, barely a breath can be taken after the Benedictin's bid and his own trails at the edge of his words, "Seventy soldi." The hand that had raised lifts to his mouth to brush absently above it, gaze partially hooding to await further offers to arise.

Artemus's brows draw downward quickly, broad shoulders straightening. His wings give a small shake of anger as he hears such nonsense imparted to the child of the air by the landbound demon. A warning glare hovers upon the Estrel quite openly.

Zada ohs softly. Her gaze falls on Artemus as he glances at her, and she sees that look of distaste. She frowns, but turns her face up to Niamh. "But won't they feel bad that Amir-al has let them be sold and that they can't ever see him again?" Clearly, the child is infatuated with Amir-al already. Indeed, he has been her idol since they first met.

The Varati auctioneer does not evince any surprise as Aristedes once again places the high bid. Yet, he cannot resist calling out, "Eighty soldi, do I hear eighty? Young Pajim is even more worthwhile than his brother. Though not as young, he is still quick to learn and obedient."

Bauchus lets a shrug deform his equanimity as a thoughtful glare picks out Aristedes, and a jovial tone that is at odds with the hard-edged glare says, "Well I can't let you have them all, can I?" A touch of challenge inflects the usual frosted tone. "Eighty and five." The hand that cradles the dark punch rises, a few drops of spillage splattering the vapid noblewoman who gasps in shocked affront behind him, which catalyzes a show of teeth sent over his shoulder, glistening in the broad, golden light of the sun. Quickly, he turns back to the main event, flicking his eyes towards Aristedes and then Arianna, one hand rising to perch upon the latter's shoulder.

Whatever thoughts she has about this, Jana keeps them quietly to herself. For now, at least. Not once has she placed a bid, but at the words of the Benedictin Dominus, she leans a little closer to Aristedes. Face tilting upwards, her lips move quietly near his ear with furtive whispering.

Niamh should have an answer for that, shouldn't he? After all, he is Nabi. "Perhaps he tests their faithfulness, Imphada, by keeping them apart from him. Should they remain loyal to him throughout their trial, perhaps they will be redeemed... at least their spirits will be. But should they despise Him, then they are of the same mettle as their father... and not to be trusted." Perhaps that answer will hold the girl. He doesn't notice the Empyrean's gaze on the winged child with him... most likely a good thing, too.

A glance is shared between the bidding men at Arianna's side, more calm in nature than the challenging frowns and spiteful glares that are tossed equally to and fro. Still, there is a tension to the air that seems infectious, tightening at the rounded curve of her jaw as her hand waves up for the next bid. "One hundred," she calls out loudly to rival the clamor around her, resting her weight back against her heels as the hand against her shoulder is questioningly studied. "Are you enjoying the 'festivities,' dominus?" she asks of Bauchus, light tone dripping wry around that choice of wording.

And yet the gaze remains. Artemus cannot help but to clench his jaw and look around at the other nobles here today, to see if they have heard the monstrosities that are being allowed to fill that innocent child's mind. "He punishes innocent children for crimes that were not their own, and still they believe everything he says," the priest mutters to himself, barely keeping himself from adding a muttered: "Sheep."

Zada ohs softly and nods. It makes perfect sense to her. "It is very hard to be away from Amir-al. I miss him so when he goes away and I don't hardly ever get to see him, even though he promised to fly with me. But I wouldn't ever forget him, not ever," she says in a deeply serious tone. "Because he made me his," she brightens suddenly, grinning as she pats her shoulder. "I belong to him. If I belong to him, he would make sure I am not sold, wouldn't he?"

Aristedes' downcast gaze flickers up as the price continues to soar, resting on the delicate features of the Oracle at his side in thoughtfulness at her whispered words. Barely perceptible is the nodded reply, before he straightens enough to shoot his hand up towards the heavens in added bid. "One hundred, twenty soldi," the Thanatos man declares firmly, before turning his attention back to murmur barely-audible words to Jana.

Thalia is the other Empyrean who loves Khalid in a sea of those who despise him. Yet, she seems extremely pained as members of her own race bid for the boy standing on the platform. Shuddering, she takes another sip of her drink, but never do her eyes leave the bronze-colored boy and his silent, still form.

Niamh smiles a bit, but it is a different smile from before... a little wiser and a little sadder. Reaching up to place a hand on Zada's golden hair, he says, "He would never let you be sold. And, Imphada... even when the Amir-Al is not bodily here, He is in our hearts and our minds. He is never far from us. Only when He is forsaken will He truly be gone."

It is probably a good thing that Jana cannot hear the stories that Niamh tells the little Zada. Being of Delphi herself, she knows the Estrel. She's even conversed with the Varati. As it is, she will have some questions for him about this lovely presentation of Varati justice. At the moment, Jana's attention skitters from the stage to Aristedes. The barest of nods is given to him, and again she leans a little to return his words in a murmur of her own.

As the hand is not shrugged away, it decides to makes itself comfortable, settling into the silk-clad hill with comforting pressure. Bauchus replies to Arianna's softly-worded query, "Of course, my dear domina. It is always a pleasure to be in your company, and I must say the battle of wills would be enough to warm the blood without your presence." His head had been lower to offer the words to her hearing over the growing white noise of excitement that begins to coalesce above their heads, before pinched features consider the boy upon the stage. The palpable desire to bid is easily seen, but the man resists as the price exceeds his limited means of the moment.

Artemus's fingers curl into fists of outrage at such nonsense. Dark green eyes flash toward the Empyrean Maharani and then toward the child being taught lies and foolishness. "Am I the only one who hears this?" he growls under his breath, trying very hard to keep his feet still before they march him in the direction of that child and snatch her away from these... these heathens!

The auctioneer calls out, "Do I hear one hundred and thirty?" These words are followed by silence and the sharp rap of the gavel signals the end of another round of bidding. Pajim is led off the stage, his passage crossing with the ascendence of his eldest brother.

Zada smiles brightly beneath her veil and nods. "That's what Daddy told me too, when I was lonely for Amir-al to come visit again." She settles comfortably back against Niamh. She's quite forgotten Artemus by now, her eyes back on the sales block. "I wish those poor boys didn't have to be sold because of what their daddy did, though." She sighs. Were someone to try to take her away, the Agni-Haidar would not let him get far.

Two boys stand at the side of the stage, looking up at their eldest brother. Unlike the other two, Ayin looks out over the crowd, showing that he has golden-brown eyes. He has sharper, more chiseled features than his brothers, and dark brown skin. Quietly, he stands, straight and tall as the auctioneer calls out to the crowd, "Finally, we have the firstborn son of Hassam Tumdari. Bigger and stronger, he can be given complex commands. Yet, he is still at an age when he can trained to any task. The bidding begins at five soldi. Do I hear five soldi?"

Arianna receives Bauchus' words with a dubious study, another meaningful look of question landing upon the hand against her shoulder. "Battle of wills is certainly one way to phrase it," she returns softly, perhaps devoured by the din of conversation and speculation that swell over the crowd. Despite the tight press of Empyreans around her that create flushed warmth to her cheeks, a shiver works its way over her spine. Still, chin determinedly squared, the next child is studied with a renewed energy. "Five soldi," she calls out to start the bidding.

Thalia finishes her drink and hands the empty glass to a waiting shudra who bobs a curtsey as she takes the item from the Queen-Maharani. She looks over at the trio of Empyreans who have dominated the bidding, waiting to see which male will trump Arianna's bid.

Niamh doesn't seem to mind having Zada with him at all. There will be no rumors from this... thank Atar. "They must learn too, Imphada Zada. But I have never owned slaves, so I cannot speak as one who has. Perhaps one day they will be allowed to be redeemed."

"You must allow us men are petty pleasures. Though I must say, your friend seems to either have a particular love of young boys or a desire to show off his wealth." Impressed at least with the amount of money that the man has blandished out. One last tightening of Bauchus' fingers upon the shoulder of the sterling-topped Domina, and he turns his attention back towards the auction. He raises is own hand and calls out. "Sixty soldi." He has not seen the bidding go much higher then that, and there is the hope that Arianna's friend does not have the bottomless pockets his earlier bidding implied.

Two down... One left. Like the Estrel, the Oracle hopes that the boys will remain together if slavery is their inevitable fate. Jana licks lips that are suddenly dry, though it doesn't occur to her to seek out one of the naraki. This is simply because sensations of nausea have begun to rise, leaving her face rather white. If she drank something now, she might just sick it right back up. Bauchus' words bring a narrowing to her eyes, and reflexively her grip on Aristedes' arm tightens. Again, she leans up to whisper at him.

No rumors? A Varati man clearly placating an Empyrean child who knows no better, with stories of a half-breed god who revels in his own cruelty as the righteous omnipresent being that will save her soul, and there will be no rumors?? Artemus thinks otherwise, and that is certain by the scowl upon his face. The wine in his goblet is tossed toward the feet of the cretin who would fill the girl's head with such falsehoods. "Poison," he states flatly, his gaze green, challenging steel upon the man.

Aristedes' head bows as the figures are worked through his mind, numbers mouthed against his lips. It is an edgy look that passes between Arianna and Bauchus from beneath the stern decline of his eyebrows -- apparently, no, Dominus Thanatos does not have a bottomless purse if one were to interpret that anxious expression. Finally, a number is extracted, and announced in bidding, "Seventy and five." Broad shoulders slide down a few notches as he yanks his attentions from the crowd, whispering fiercely to the young Delphite at his side.

Zada oohs at this idea and nods heartily. "I will say prayers for them. I will tell Amir-al that the boys were not bad boys, just their daddy was bad. Maybe then he will save them." She kisses Niamh's cheek. "Thank you, Imphadi Niamh." Then the wine lands at her feet and she looks down. Tears fill her eyes. "It's all over my sari," she laments, holding up the wet skirt. "And my slippers."

Niamh looks over with a start as he, too, is splashed with wine. Standing slowly, he lifts Zada out of the way, "The sari will be replaced, Imphada... but now I suggest you stay behind me. Or better yet, with one of the Agni-Haidar." Dark eyes, as cold as the onyx they resemble scan the crowd to see who could have thrown that goblet. Bad form, whomever it was. Very bad form.

Amipal lifts a bemused eyebrow at Artemus' gesture of distaste, arms crossing slowly over his chest. He does not, however, move from his constant place by the Queen-Maharani's side.

Stroking fingers rise to brush back the silver waterfall of hair that shelters the ears of Arianna, into which moving lips impart humid air that surely contain sound, but the content of which remains swallowed by distance and the hum of tangible excitement as the last boy comes up for bid. Slim digits encircle the fragile-seeming arm of the woman as Bauchus emphasizes something he is saying with touch. Storm-grey eyes focus upon the last lad before blurring back to the group that he hovers behind.

Artemus stands staring openly at Niamh, back straight, wings rigid in their ready position. He says nothing, for now, but the fire within his eyes speaks of righteous indignation and challenge.

As interesting as the interaction between the Estrel and the Kronian priest may be, Jana is oblivious to it. Rather, a thoughtful frown dominates her features, grey eyes sliding worriedly to the Augustin Domina. There is really nothing she can do, having no money of her own present. Remaining silent now, she reluctantly looks back to the stage and continues warring with the lump of ice in her stomach.

Thalia appears rather disturbed as Artemus' show of bad manners causes a rustle among the crowd. Some people move closer to the altercation while others go in the opposite direction. For the moment, she remains in her seat, but she looks at Amipal. "Kaimakam, perhaps you could aid Seraskier Zuhayr's daughter?"

The Varati auctioneer chooses to ignore Artemus and calls out to the crowd, "Do I hear eighty-five soldi? Eight-five soldi from any of the fine Dominii?"

"Wealth indeed," comes Arianna's murmured reply, sky-tinted eyes drawing up towards Aristedes in visible surprise. By the gods, where did this man procure this seemingly limitless supply of funds? Her small hand had lifted in the beginnings of a raise, but pauses abruptly at the words that reach her ear. Bauchus is given a lingering study that borders on uneasy, mouth parting slightly. Though words of reprove border on her tongue, the auctioneer's prompt seems to pluck her from her reverie. Up shoots the hand in a slight wave, the young noblewoman calling out her price. "One hundred soldi!"

Zada feels fear well up in her. Imphadi Niamh is angry. She has never seen him angry. And he is staring down that Empyrean. As much as she would like to give him her say-so, she knows she had better follow directions. She looks around for the closest Agni-Haidar. Which would not be Amipal. She does not have to look far, however, since two appear behind her once Niamh stands up. She backs up against them, looking mournfully at her sari.

Artemus glances toward Aristedes and with a sneer for the Varati he opposes, a bag of coins is tossed in the man's direction, after calling to him, "Here lad, buy another!" Insinuating the easy purchase of Varati flesh.

With precise, exaggerated movements, the Estrel shakes wine droplets from his haik as casually as he would dust. He will wait for the enraged Empyrean to approach him... he will not shout over the bidding or the crowd. A single eyebrow raises in question, however. He has never seen the man before... what problem would he have with him? Indeed he is angry, but it is held in check... for the moment.

Amipal glances sidelong at the Varati Queen, lips thinning slightly; with the softest of sighs, he lifts a fist, then nods once in Artemus' direction to point him out -- needlessly -- to the scattered guardsmen who have come to attention on his signal. None of them move, but not a few dark eyes now watch the Empyrean carefully. "The Seraskier's daughter is in no significant danger, your highness," the Kaimakam murmurs calmly below the volume of the bidding.

Attention clearly absorbed by the bidding, Aristedes is caught unawares when the bag is tossed in his direction. It brushes near his arm and slumps down to fall in a malformed puddle at his feet. Jana's arm is finally remembered and released, so that he might crouch down and retrieve the bag, holding it out upon his palm. "My thanks, dominus, but my bidding on this day is complete," the man calls out civilly. The money is extended on a steady hand, so that Artemus might retrieve it. Once he is finished with his 'spectacle,' that is.

Zada reaches for the closest guard's hand, her eyes never straying from Niamh and Artemus.

What is going on over there? Hearing the shout of an angry voice over the din of the bidding crowd, Jana turns her head to gaze over her shoulder. Oh well, what have we here? It is not hard to spot the Estrel bin Mazat, especially in this sea of white feathers. A half step is taken in their direction before she falls back to Aristedes' side. She certainly does not need to interfere. Now that her arm has been freed, she clasps her hands behind her back, turning 'round to eye the boy upon the stage contemplatively.

The Varati auctioneer calls out a hopeful, "One hundred and ten soldi?" However, a lack of offers causes the man the rap his gavel on the wood of his podium. "Sold for one hundred soldi to the fine daughter of Augustus. Please, dominus and domina, come forward and claim your purchases."

Ayin walks off the stage at the direction of an Agni-Haidar after the final call sounds. He goes to stand by his brothers and all three of them put their arms around each other, huddling with their faces away from the crowd.

A whispered congratulations is gifted to Arianna and then Bauchus evaporates back into the crowd, but not before he allows for a bow and speaks. "Well bid, dominus, I can say there is no shame in losing to the likes of the domina." Then his attention diverts to Jana, smile furling his lips upward. "Good afternoon to you as well, domina. You still owe me a tour of the rest of Delphi at sometime. I look forward to it." Only with that done does he step back into the parted alabaster of sea that fluxes around them.

Carefully oblivious of the oncoming storm that darkens the horizon around the two priests Bauchus quick moves towards the exit. Only when his back is turned does he allow the dissatisfaction with the days events capture his countenance.

As if the robe, with a symbol most recognize as that of the god Jove were not enough to clue the man in on the ire that he has raised within Artemus! The priest stares back at Niamh for a long moment before looking around at the 'noble' born Empyreans who bid here today. Aristedes is regarded coldly before he reaches out to take the pouch. "I know that I was not the only one of us who heard the lies spoken to that Empyrean child." His voice is rich and deep with anger, resonating as he lifts it to be heard by all the Empyreans who look at him. "She is a babe and he fills her head with stories of glory and omnipotence of Khalid!" He growls. "And you stand around and do nothing while another daughter of your own race is captured by their lies. Was Thalia not enough of a sacrifice for you people? That she was given by the Empyre to do his bidding?" His glare is then transferred to the threatening guards with a sneer of contempt for them personally. "That child just said that Khalid had named her his. When will you people wake up and discover his covetous feelings for our race!?"

Thalia rises from her seat, but appears disposed to argue with Amipal. "No one is hurt, but Zada is certainly distressed, Kaimakam." She stands for a moment, as if uncertain as to whether she wishes to approach Niamh, Zada and Artemus.

Niamh blinks slowly, his arms crossed at his chest. With a level tone, he offers but a few words in reply to those spewed by the Empyrean priest. "I see no Empyrean child." Indeed, Khalid Atar has decreed her Varati and Varati she is. As simple as that. He has noted the other Agni-Haidar about the girl and does not fear for her protection... between them and himself, he doubts anyone could get to her.

Zada shouts back angrily. Nothing is more guaranteed to anger her than being called an Empyrean. "I am Varati!" she shouts back at the man, staying within the safety of the Agni-Haidar.

Amipal settles a gentle, staying hand on Thalia Khalida's forearm as she makes to move forward, but his cool gaze has settled on the vocal Empyrean in the crowd. "Winged man," he intones, not loudly, but clearly pitched to carry. "You insult the Queen-Maharani on her own ground. This is intolerable. Depart now, or you will be destroyed. There is no alternative, and I will not repeat my warning."

"Vale, Dominus Benedictin," is murmured politely to the departing man, Jana saying absolutely nothing about how she might or might not be looking forward to seeing him again as well. Her smile is thin, but distracted... Again, she turns around to study Niamh and Artemus, eyes lingering upon the latter. Shaking her head, she mutters beneath her breath. She will not interfere... No way in Hades. She quite likes her head on her shoulders. Remaining still, she looks between her companions, waiting to see what they shall do.

Arianna replies to Bauchus' whisper with the slightest of nods, but there is no time to say anything further, for he has already begun his retreat. "Vale, Dominus Benedictin," is the murmured parting, lost to intended ears. As her gaze follows along his retreating back for a moment, the other discord that has risen within the crowd finally catches her attention. A distasteful flick of her shoulders reflects her disapproval before she pivots towards Jana and Aristedes. "Dominus Thanatos, we should go forward and settle our debts," she remarks briskly with a polite incline of her head. Jana is nudged with the edge of a silver-dusted wing in a warmer gesture, indicating she hardly expects the Oracle to lag behind on her own.

Thalia appears torn between wanting to defend Artemus from Amipal and excising Zada from the altercation zone. For the moment, she cannot speak.

Aristedes is the last of the grouped nobles to bid adieu to the departing Bauchus, the stiff partial bow likely remaining unseen as the man departs. Straightening, a hand briefly touches to the small of Jana's back as he mutters a few words of reply in return, and then speaks louder so that both Dominae might hear. "Indeed, and before this madness has spread any further, preferably," he announces tersely, touching a hand to each of their arms and then beginning the stride forward to the auctioneer. So much unspoken on the man's mind, minimal heed is given to the stirrings of strife.

Artemus looks around at all the spineless leaders of his race with absolute disgust. At Amipal's warning, he turns to Thalia and bows respectfully. "Your sacrifice of life has been seen and appreciated, honored Domina," he states clearly to show her it is not she he insults. "But the rest of you should examine your hearts. We are the rightful rulers of the sky, and he has no right to steal our daughters from us so blatantly." Disgust fills his being as he shakes his head and makes his way toward the gate in an obvious, yet mostly-contained fury.

The Varati auctioneer steps toward Aristedes and Arianna, tallying up their totals. "One hundred and ninety soldi, dominus. From the domina, one hundred soldi."

An Agni-Haidar behind the auctioneer pushes the three boys forward. Pajim has his arm around Kamaden and does not appear willing to let go. Kamaden gazes at the ground, but Pajim looks forthrightly at Aristedes. Ayin stands by his brothers, waiting for the money to exchange hands.

Niamh shakes his head. He knew it... these Empyreans were all talk and no action. "Fine words. Too bad there is such a cowardly heart behind them." His voice is not loud, but it does carry. A bow is then offered to the Maharani, "If your view was ruined, Majesty, I do apologize." One of the few times he actually will do so.

Amipal clasps his hands behind his back, head tilted slightly to one side, watching placidly through eyes of pitch as the fuming Empyrean makes his exit. He makes no move to follow, and his fellow Agni-Haidar likewise remain where they are, allowing the winged man to pass.

At the dominus' touch at her back, as well as the prodding that the domina's wing gives her, Jana allows herself to be led forward to the trio of Varati boys. Only one last look is cast over her shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly as the little tiff comes to an end before catastrophe strikes. "Hmmm," she muses, remaining silent after this brief, wordless reply to the muttered words of Aristedes. When she turns back, beholding the pitiful sight of the children, she winces. By the gods, this is ... beyond words. The Oracle presses the back of her hand to her mouth, stifling whatever might come out -- be it a sob or vomit.

Zada clings to the Agni-Haidar, glaring at Artemus as he passes. No one calls her an Empyrean and gets away with it. She will be glad when all these strangers have left.

Thalia gives Artemus a small smile, as if to thank him for his words and the fact that he is leaving. The smile lingers on her face as she nods to Niamh to acknowledge his bow. "I accept your apology. If you could take Zada and help her repair the damage to her sari, I would be extremely pleased. It has distressed me that Zada has suffered."

Niamh takes a few deep breaths to calm the flames of his temper before offering a bow and turning to the child. Holding out a hand to her, he says nothing for now, still keeping his anger in check. But he will do what the Queen-Maharani has requested of him.

Arianna's steps slow as they draw closer to the auctioneer, saucer-wide eyes landing and resting upon the boys. A fluttery breath catches in her throat, and it takes a moment before the monetary sum to reach the workings of her conscious thought. A glance is cast over her shoulder with uncertainty towards Aristedes and then Jana, before she resolutely closes the distance and withdraws her purse. The appropriate coinage is counted out and offered, gaze landing upon Ayin covertly behind her lashes. Bare is the frown that finds her lips, slipping in and out of view.

Zada bows to Thalia. "Thank you, Imphada Queen." She slips her hand into Niamh's, anxious to be out of here.

As the domina is the first to supply the required funds, Aristedes hangs back a few paces until the transaction is completed. His darkened eyes had remained largely on Kamaden and Pajim, though they fly up quickly at the stifled sound just at his side. Hands reach up and rest on either of the Oracle's arms, head dipping in to speak in low, firm tones that appear to border on stern -- at least, by sight.

Once the money is handed over to the auctioneer, Ayin steps forward, without prompting, to Arianna. He stands, draped in chains, waiting for instructions from her. The Agni-Haidar standing behind the three boys holds out a key to Arianna.

Hastily nodding, Jana's hand drops from her mouth long enough to murmur a reply in kind. Her eyes, however, remain upon the children. Tilting her head forward, she watches Ayin and his new mistress. She opens her mouth to say something, but bites at her lip instead. Uncertainly, she again looks back to Aristedes. As she gently breaks away from his touch, she steps closer to the Augustin domina. Her words are quiet and directed solely to them.

Amipal looks on dispassionately as the slaves are apportioned to their new owners. A few of the Agni-Haidar begin a slow withdrawal from the area.

There is a solemnity to Arianna's actions, the careful way in which she studies the Agni-Haidar before plucking the key out of her grasp. Color that had blossomed on her cheeks is long forgotten in the wan pallor that follows, though lips remain carefully flat in a noncommittal line. As Jana draws in near, a staying hand is indicated towards Ayin as her head leans in to receive her words. "Why do we not wait until we depart before discussing such matters?" she suggests softly, gaze flicking between Aristedes and the fellow noblewoman. The crowd of departing attendants is absently studied by the haze of a reflective gaze, patiently waiting for Dominus Thanatos to likewise conduct his business.

With Arianna's business out of the way, Aristedes steps up to conduct his own, purse already in hand. A cryptic glance reaches the visibly distraught Jana, before his head dips down and he counts out six zechin and ten soldi. These are offered to the auctioneer, dispassionate gaze already climbing over to two younger children in speculation. The money is accepted, and Aristedes receives the keys to the appropriate chains with barely an out-of-place blink. The children are hastily gestured forward, narrowing gaze already mapping out his departure.

With only the Augustin Domina's words offering a shred of hope that this is not yet over, Jana gives a bare nod of her head and resigns herself to bitter silence. For a while longer she watches the children, then forces her eyes to the ground at her feet. She has had her fill for now, and feeling pity will do nothing for them. The nightmares she will have will give her plenty to feel guilty about as it is. Thus, when Aristedes has concluded his business, she is one of the first to turn for the gates.

Thalia takes one last look at the three eldest sons of Hassam Tumdari before turning away and walking out of the area. In unison, the Agni-Haidar, led by Amipal, march synchronously after the Queen-Maharani.

The Varati auctioneer gives Aristedes and Arianna a bow once the business is concluded, then he and the Agni-Haidar which had been watching over the three boys leave as well, without a single look at the boys; these three have ceased to exist in Varati eyes.

Obedient, Pajim walks in the direction indicated by Aristedes, Kamaden following only because his brother's arm remains around his shoulders. Neither of these two look at Aristedes' face, instead focusing entirely on his lovely shod feet.

An uneasy twist is given to the edge of Arianna's chimere, before she mimics Aristedes' gesture of beckoning to Ayin. She is the second to depart, briskly chasing at Jana's heels towards the exit. Weight is balanced up against her toes so that during her own departure the Queen-Maharani's may be witnessed with marked curiosity.

Niamh watches as the children are led away as well, quite knowledgeable of the rules, but also infinitely relieved that he does not... nor will he ever keep slaves. After all, it is his duty to administer to all, is it not? Speaking of duty, he should be getting back to Delphi... much as he would rather stay here. The time he was to spend at the Temple was taken up by the auction. Another day then.

Unlike his two fair and female companions, Aristedes reveals the least as far as emotions may sway. Brisk pace unbroken, even to consider shackled feet behind him, his unswerving gaze rests somewhere between the avian extensions of Arianna's wings. Towards the edge of the garden, he gives pause to observe Thalia's procession before it eases out of sight. A final look touches the crafted stage, accompanied by a sigh so soft it remains his secret, before he turns and hastily continues his pace.

FIN  

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