Chapter 10: 'Homestead' (2810 words)

Vievel's goal was to get home, from the Dwurkn starship he boarded at the behest of his cousin, before anyone notices he's missing. At home, however, some friends might be about to wreck that.

“Eaden quit pushing that plant around your plate and eat it please”. The 13-year old Aelfr rolled his eyes and pushed his tray away, indicating that he had no intention of listening to her. Eaden’s attention quickly turned back to the netcomm in his hands and the game on its screen. Ria glanced away from him for a moment, trying to resist the urge to snap unkindly at him or snatch the device away. With only three years between them, she would’ve thought they’d have more in common, but he was sometimes like another species to her. She looked around, taking a breath to calm herself. The mess hall was sparser than she was used to, and the few Aælfir sat down to eat were close enough that her voice could and would carry itself over to them. Half the ship seemed to be on board that Dwurkn frigate, the one they were stationed next to, and Ria found herself missing the usual bustle of activity, even if she didn’t know any of the soldiers particularly well. Usually, the hall was so crowded it was difficult to find a place to sit, but now it was so quiet that her voice overshadowed the rest of the room’s meagre conversation.

She turned back to her charge, ultimate sanction at hand. “Put the comm down. If you don’t finish your intake I will have to tell your parents”.

“So what?” With a petulant scowl on his face, Eaden seemed to enjoy being as obstinate as possible. He smirked, brandishing his smile as a little victory, and Ria looked up at mess hall ceiling rather than suffer through it. There were days when she most definitely loathed this job.

“Fine, I will then,” she said, not looking down at her charge. A second later she was answered by the sound of Eaden dragging his tray back across the table, his bluff called. He pulled a nauseated and exaggerated face as he began to pick at the green-stem. Relief settled over her as she considered that maybe the job wasn’t all bad.

Ria watched the room whilst Eaden finished his meal, watching the few Aælfir that entered. Most individuals she didn’t recognise, but the second Aelfi to enter the room was someone that she did, a plump and matronly-looking Aelfi who she knew to be a professor of antiquarianism. Ria had never actually met her, but she was one of the two female tutors she hoped to study under once her application to be a scribe hopeful was finally accepted. Whenever that was.

“Don’t you have anyfing better t’do,” Eaden mumbled, his mouth half-full of food. “You’re such a dweeb”.

“Not a thing,” Ria said, half-paying attention. “This is how I get my fun, frustrating you,” she said. He loosed a dramatic sigh, overselling his exasperation, and turned back to his meal for a moment. He looked up again as he registered something behind her.

“Haa-sen,” he muttered.

“What?” Ria frowned as Eaden chewed at the green-stem in his mouth; he waited until he’d swallowed enough of it that he could speak clearly, but still spoke with his mouth half-full of food. The boy was rarely bothered by niceties.

“Halycen’s over there, behind you-” he said. She twisted in her seat, looking over her shoulder. Sure enough, Halycen was walking across the other side of the mess hall. Strangely she seemed to be dressed in a metillion hauberk, the lighter raiment of the Ulmadr military, rather than her usual fine garments, but more peculiarly than that she was accompanied by-

“Is thatta Ranger?” Eaden asked. His curiosity seemed not to have satiated his newfound appetite, as he stuffed another fistful of green-stem into his mouth.

“I think- I, uh don’t know-” Ria admitted. She’d never seen an Advance scout-ranger, at least not whilst they were in gear; nobody could know who belonged to the Advance whilst out of uniform. The pair drew several stares and turned heads as they crossed over the hall; some were perhaps for Halycen, but most of the onlookers seemed to be watching the powerful strides of the Ranger.

“Halycen!” Eaden called out, startling Ria. She shot an icy glare at him. As she turned around Halycen noticed her and gave her a small nod. Ria tried mouthing a question, pointing at the Ranger.

Who is that? Halycen’s eyes flicked towards her companion and she nodded, miming her answer.

Later! Halycen smiled apologetically as the helmeted stranger noticed her subtle gesturing. The Aælfir peered over at Eaden and Ria. Eaden immediately shrunk back in his seat and busied himself with his netcomm again, but she couldn’t look away. Even halfway across the mess hall, she could see a distorted reflection of the room in the ranger’s full-face visor, catching sight of a tiny mirrored Ria facing the opposite direction. She noticed a few onlookers watching the silent exchange between the two of them, but she was used to the stares; there were only four Aælfir children on the Ulmadr home ship. The ranger continued to watch her for a moment and then gave Halycen a sharp push to spur her onward.

Why is Halycen being escorted by a Ranger? The push hadn’t looked friendly, and Ria couldn’t imagine any member of the military would risk such behaviour towards a member of the home-ship’s house predominant; the Ulmadr, even the young Ulmadr, ruled absolutely. She watched the pair cross the hall, running scenarios through her mind. Halycen is always getting into trouble, she thought. It’d never been something serious enough to involve the military before, much less the Advance, but her ideas had been growing more reckless with time; a small ache pressed at Ria’s chest as she wondered whether she should’ve been more discouraging of Halycen’s plans and plots. Being the heir secondary would only protect Halycen so far. The alternative that occurred to her was that the Ranger was rushing to bring Halycen to the frigate. Why would they be headed in the opposite direction to the airlocks then? Ria thought. She was sure Halycen was in trouble of some kind. Vievel might know something about it, she thought, resolving to ask him later. As Halycen walked through a door on the other side of the room, the ranger striding closely at her side, Ria felt a twinge of worry for her friend.

“Rangers are so cool,” Eaden exclaimed, looking up from his game.

“Rangers are not ‘cool’. Don’t talk like that,” Ria retorted, drawing a frown from Eaden. She sighed. “Just - it’s probably best if you don’t draw that kind of attention to yourself”. The stories she had heard about the rangers didn’t paint them in a charitable light; the organisation wasn’t a fixture of Aælfir ships and was not subject to the same standards and practices as the war-company. The Advance was an Ulmadr invention, the child of the Patriarch’s father, Vercing, and it sometimes served as an extension of the house predominant’s authority, where their legal reach ended.

“Whatever - I’m not going to join them, I’m going to be an engineer,” he said proudly, as though joining the Advance was as simple as wanting it. She glanced at him, at first a little surprised to hear Eaden voice a career aspiration, any at all, but then quickly deciding that it might actually suit him. Lately, he seemed to be dressing like one of the gearheads, with an emerald-coloured coverall top and moss green flared shorts attached to the former by black suspenders. Both clashed dramatically with his boyish face and pixie haircut.

“An engineer? What brought that on?” Ria asked. It was rare that Eaden treated her like anything more than his minder, and she was actually eager to hear him share. He shrugged, halfway-torn between her question and his game.

“I was at dad’s post the other day and he broke a console, one of the metillion-fabricators - then this engineer came in and fixed it like... like it wasn’t even broken in the first place”. He grinned. “It was pretty smart”.

“You were at your dad’s post?” She asked. She paused for a moment. “Last week, when I was at the healer’s?”

“Yeah. Mum and dad wouldn’t let me stay in quarters alone. Don’t know why, I’m old enough”. Ria smiled.

“Yeah, I know. Of course, you are, you barely need a minder”. Eaden shuffled uncomfortably on the bench for a moment. He flushed pink for a moment before he turned back to his netcomm, avoiding her gaze. Looking at his tray, she noticed he had finished the last plant of his dinner, and not a moment too soon; the wall display had just shifted, announcing a change in which houses had use of the mess hall.

“Come on,” Ria said, standing up and stepping around the table. “It’s time I got back to quarters, and I’ve still got to drop you off at tutoring before that”.

“Can’t I go on my own?” Eaden protested. He stepped onto his bench, his netcomm waving around along with his hand. “Come onnn-” he huffed as he drew out the word.

“Get down from there,” she scolded. He stepped down from the bench but continued to argue.

“I’m old enough to be left alone, you just said so. Can’t you let me go by myself?” Ria opened her mouth, ready to dissuade him, but the words fell flat before they even made it to her lips.

“Ah-” She stopped and sighed, not sure what to say. She had said that, though she’d meant the words as a comfort more than anything. He looked up at her with hopeful eyes and for once she couldn’t bring herself to say no. “Fine, but-” She didn’t manage to finish her sentence as Eaden suddenly tackled her, hugging her so forcefully that he knocked half the air from her chest.

“Thank you Ria!” Eaden exclaimed, as she wheezed and tried to catch her breath.

“Oof- it’s alright,” she gasped. “-just don’t make me regret it please?” He nodded. He turned away from her, running in the direction of the west mess hall door. “-and don’t tell your parents!” she called, the afterthought occurring to her only at the last moment.

Shoot. She hoped that he wouldn’t tell his parents, but sometimes he spoke without thinking. I probably should have gone with him, Ria thought. It was too late now. Eaden had just vanished behind the small mass of Aælfir leaving, and besides, without him, she was headed in the opposite direction. She walked out into the adjoining hallway, excusing herself as she manoeuvred around a pair of Aelfr engaged in a public display of affection. The hallway was mostly empty, with the majority of Aælfir on work duty, at their posts during the middle of the cycle, and she enjoyed the opportunity to walk the home-ship’s corridors without having to fight her way through a crowd or stick to the single-file system. She stopped beside a transparent door that led to one of the kitchens, watching as the cooks worked the meal-fabricators. An Aelfi smiled at her, as she noticed the onlooker, and raised a drybread bun.

“You want something to eat hun?” the Aelfi said, her voice carrying from behind the door. The cook’s question drew the stares of a few other Aælfir inside the kitchen, most of whom offered small smiles of their own, though several frowned at the Aelfi’s offer of extra food.

“Oh, no thanks!” Ria replied. Her small stomach felt swollen from an already-excessive lunch, and the thought of even a single bite more made her feel a little bit nauseous. The cook nodded and turned back to her work, entering meal formulas into a nearby fabricator and prepping the resultant raw matter for the ovens. She watched for a few minutes. She was always a little bit fascinated by how things worked. Once the cooks had settled into a predictable routine Ria turned away from the kitchens to head home.

Vievel. If anyone knew what trouble Halycen had gotten into, it would be Halycen’s cousin. I should stop by his quarters and ask, she thought. She looked down at her netcomm; hers was a smaller and older model than Eaden’s, strapped to her wrist whereas his was a standalone and larger device that required two hands. She still had time before she was supposed to be back. Without her charge to worry about she could visit the Ulmadr quarters before heading to her own Blödskalh home. The two sectors were practically adjacent. Ria set off in the direction of her family quarters, taking her normal route for the first few minutes before she reached the intersection where the paths to the Blödskalh and Ulmadr sectors divulged. Turning right instead of left, she strode down a quickly widening hallway leading toward Vievel’s family home; the walls were decorated by a series of mosaic artworks, each one hand-crafted by a different notable member of the house from centuries past, and each a dazzling display of colour. Ria marvelled at the vast space and number of artworks permitted in this section of the home-ship, gripped by them as if she was beholding them for the very first time. No matter how many times she visited, the Ulmadr halls never seemed to get any less majestic.

At last, she emerged into a wide atrium, a grand space with a singular small door at its end; the door was flanked by a series of fine red-fabric chairs on one side, and a yawning Aelfr soldier on the other. He stared down at the floor, not noticing her, his eyes struggling to fight the weight of his tiredness. The roof of the room was transparent, built from a reinforced plastic, and made up the floor of the home-ship’s court; the court itself stood empty today but Ria could make out the Patriarch’s ceremonial chair at the furthest edge, a towering seat probably twice the height and width of the Patriarch himself. The cushioning on the chair was fashioned from a fine red fabric, much like the guest chairs at the far end of the atrium, although more faded from age, but crooked lines of chartreuse surrounded its fraying edges, evidence of delicate and time-consuming hand-stitching.

In the centre of the room, extending from the floor and through the roof into the court above, stood a familiar tall glass pillar, both an heirloom of the family, and an ostentatious display of wealth. As she approached it Ria stopped, catching her reflection in the pillar. Her braid was lopsided. She put her hands to her hair and pulled the braid, tightening the loop that restrained her ponytail before she stepped back to check it again. She scanned her mirror counterpart, looking for anything else out of place, and noticed one of the ribbons tied to her navy-blue frock had fallen loose. It dangled, limp beside her waist, and try as she might she couldn’t get the ribbon to fixed into place with the rest. She opted to remove it, plucking it from the bundle pinned to her capelet and slipped it into the slim pockets of her dress. She was glad that there were so few mirrors outside of quarters. She couldn’t imagine getting anything done if she was always this conscious about her appearance.

“Miss Riandra!” A soldier by the foyer door snapped to attention as he noticed Ria. “How can I help you?” he called. She smiled, waving at the Aelfr as she walked up to the atrium’s far door.

“I was hoping to speak to Vie- uh, Lord Ulmadr,” Ria said, quickly changing her mind about her address.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen the young lord all day,” the soldier replied. “I can send someone to announce your arrival if you like”.

“Can’t I just go find him myself?” she asked, as sweetly as she possibly could.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you into Ulmadr quarters unattended miss. He’ll have to come to you.”

“Can the attendant walk with me?”

“Afraid not, matter of security. The young lord has to accept responsibility for you or else I can’t let you in unescorted.”

“Can’t you escort me?”

“Short-staffed today miss, sorry. I have to stay on duty here. Shall I have one of the attendants announce you?” The soldier smiled apologetically.

“Yes, of course,” she said, stifling a sigh of disappointment. The soldier nodded and pulled a netcomm from his magnetic belt.

“Lord Ulmadr has a visitor, the lady Celeste Blödskalh. Would someone care to announce her?” Ria bristled at the use of her first name.

“Thank you,” she replied, nonetheless keen to observe proper niceties. She took a seat in a guest chair beside the soldier, relaxing into it.

Once someone checks on Vievel I’ll get to the bottom of this.