OOC: I hate double posting...
Names for cities: Ya’sei, Matah, Aya'se more to follow.
We. Our. Us.
And, on the palest of moonlight, she will come, to lead her people to victory...
Tis the most beautiful moment, that time after knowing, and just before acceptance.
They said she walked in the favour of the Ancestors, that much was true. Her smile would set the hearts of men not long for the grave aflutter, emotions long forgotten awaking for but the briefest moment, bodies aged would wish fervently for younger days. A generation of young men walked in her shadow, all because of her habit of pausing for a moment to talk to boys not long free of mothers. They would be her surest allies in later years. Boys would turn into men, and always look with pleasure to that seminal moment from which they judged the worthiness of every other episode in their lives. A generation of young ladies walked in her shadow, all because of her inclusion of the youngest in her salons. Girls would blossom into ladies, marry, and forevermore a husband would have an insistent whisper in his ear… She won many for but a token of her affection.
Once when she was young her suitors fought for her. They would vie constantly for her merest glance, the slightest sigh to show her favour. Not once did that happen, no matter the gifts heaped, the praises levelled and the threats of fathers. Suitors young and old made their way to her suites and asked for her hand, a mouth hidden behind a veil would reply. No. A kiss? No. A walk? No. A token? No. A look? No. Perhaps then a suitor might understand how resolute she was in her chosen path. What path was that? Nobody was sure. A few speculated. Perhaps she held out for the hand of some foreign prince, that theory was firmly rebuffed when she turned away just such a prince, without so much as a word. She continued an enigma a contradiction in terms in her early years.
Perhaps she is best described as a strange animal, which looks substantially like a human, but is missing that element which stains mankind. A lack of emotions was a favoured belief. That was not true it was said she wept at the death in a duel of a suitor whom she had never met. More reasoned minds, few in number initially were inclined to believe that she had no evil, an immaculate thing, not human surely, no human was perfect. The most and least religious whispered that perhaps she was an Ancestor, heresy and piety met together for the briefest moment around her person. A confluence of all that was good, and all that was bad contained in the hopes and dreams of different individuals. Later one of these beliefs would be born out or perhaps both...
It is a curious thing, that her name is not known to us, she was known solely by her title in later years, it had long subsumed her mortal name. Not a single person knew her given name at the time of her death, all they knew was her title, her persona, her edifice, a living institution of Seshweay. The states beating heart many argued while still others argued she was life itself. All we know is that she was called Matah. Even her name is an enigma, she who is not of Seshweay, is perhaps the best translation. Perhaps a transposition is best, for the feel of the words is important more than the exactitude of translation, goddess.
There is no other way of conveying her majesty, the author saw her once, her face shrouded behind a palanquin’s curtain, a slim almost translucent hand capped by long impossibly delicate fingers moving slowly acknowledging the people. All of whom had their faces down in the dusty street praying for her protection in the future. I do not know what came over me, but I bowed with them, praying fervently for her safety and for my own, it was only later I noticed what was on ground in that busy street, suffice to say a sickness did rage in me for sometime afterwards. Perhaps I saw her again, I cannot be sure, her presence was a dream, a fulfilment of the soul, something necessary, something right to all Seshweay. We knew why after…
She was not tall, she did not command by virtue of her height, or by virtue of any mortal connivance. She commanded by her silences, the slightest movement of her fingers which never stopped lightly tapping the table. It was sublime, to just sit in her presence, to observe the soft tracery of veins in her neck, and many a Senator, sure of himself, sure of his family, his wife, and his power was stunned into silence, sureness never returning. Every instance of this, capped by the slightest movement of her lips, a smirk, or the look of one so supremely sure of herself that she feared nothing? We as the people will never know, and the sadness of not knowing touches all our souls.
She was intelligent, in a way not seen often; she could quote verbatim every work of poetry by the masters, and she could sing millennia of songs, discuss every work of the moralists, quote every common prayer and every word of the Ancestors. There was nothing beyond her grasp, upon meeting Senator Ta’Val the greatest thinker of his day, already feted with honours; she shattered his confidence in but an instant. He would never reveal what she said, but confessed once, that it was a well placed question on his most recent work. He was reduced to stuttering, hard for a man whose pride was said to be hot enough to cause river rocks to split. Every week from then on he would meet her, with the same results. All he did for much of the rest of the week was work… unceasing. Many felt that he was searching for the secret of eternal life, and at this early stage that seemed probable, later that would be shown to be a useless premise.
She was beautiful, but it was not the beauty which impressed so many, it was something immeasurable, some quality which was impossible to gauge which allowed for her monumental rise. It was never known where she was from or who she was from. It was said her patron, Ya’sei found her alone, in a distant town, far from civilization on one of his lone rides. But speculation and rumour do not explain it. Why Ya’sei choose to ride so far, and for such a long period we do not know. One day he got up on his saddle and rode… Suffice to say she had suitors from a young age, an indecently young age. But nobody could be sure how old she was, her beauty was apparent, her form was perfect even then, her grace unparalleled, her voice could charm the birds from the sky and her intelligence burnt. Soft blue eyes, so rare, could change with the slightest shift of light into copper green all the while framed by a face so delicate that one did not wish to breathe in her presence for fear of doing damage. It is certain that some did not, so taken aback by her looks, on more than one occasion in her early years dignified personages fainted. In later years when she found out how distracting she was, she covered her features; the world lost something on that day, some of its complexity of palette. Her body, well we know nothing of it, except faint outlines and even those were beyond comparison. Many whispered ill of Ya’sei and hinted dark things about his intents for this flower early on.
Many would have nothing of this, Ya’sei was a hero of the Republic, a veteran of countless skirmishes, hero of many a battle, a gifted orator, and as a Senator above reproach. Besides it was well known he still wept at night for his lost love. And even if that were true, how does one deny a great man a little comfort in his last days from a slave?
But she was more than a slave. How can one deny a living goddess? Knowing was the curse of perfection. Knowing what would come for her people.
. These are increasingly developing in the commercial system, having invented proto-banking, underwriting of ships, and primitive insurance [risk spreading is something I'll be working in sometime soon]. There is also likely to be a push for Republicanism, or at least a system which allows the people's voice to be expressed, a Monarchy with a Senate or Representative Council appears to be acceptable to the Union. The only real difference would be the acceptance of Union norms, in politics, justice, business [all through Unity] and an co-opting of existing religious practices.
