When Winds Wonder (DragonSong)

[quaggan]

 Faysal didn't know whether to feel jealous of Lapis Lazuli being blessed with a djinn's permanent company, or feel sorry for having to put with Zahir all the time. He was freed of the weight of this question by the arrival of the house slaves bearing the sedan chair that was his temporary means of transportation. He climbed up and sat, smothering a sigh of relief. Showing weakness was not something he was willing to indulge in, not even now.

"To the archives" he commanded. "My guests will accompany us."

[DragonSong]

Without really meaning to, Lapis found herself leaning toward their host slightly. "Are you sure you're al--"

She managed to stop herself just before she finished the question, snapping her mouth shut and leaning back. Hush now, not your place.

Gods, she hated that feeling. But for the moment, she wouldn't fight it.

[quaggan]

 He was starting to get used to this. He always was quick to adapt. "Al... alarmed at the thought of what Master Zahir might do when you're perusing the archives and not supervising him? Yes, shaking with fear - what would my unfortunate archivists do? It is my duty to at least be there to witness their valiant efforts."

[DragonSong]

Lapis forced a small chuckled and nodded to him. "Right. Well, as long as he's well enough amused, he shouldn't be too much trouble."

[quaggan]

 The slaves carried him towards the archive, followed by Zahir and Lapis Lazuli. Faysal described their way as they moved, so that his guests could later retrace their steps and make it back to the chamber. Most of the time, he wouldn't have bothered, but he wasn't certain if her peculiar sense of morality would let her command slaves to lead her back - or even ask for directions.

The archive door was large and heavy, almost impossible to open by one person. Two strong slaves were always stationed there, to handle it. At Faysal's command, they wrenched it open, wide enough to let the sedan chair through. Most of the time, they only needed to move it slightly, to let the archivists in and out.

The archive was easily the largest chamber in the palace. It occupied almost the entirety of the wing, taking up several floors. It was a single massive room, divided by tall, heavy bookcases that stretched up to the darkness of the ceiling. As most of the archived knowledge was dry and flammable, carrying any sort of fire inside was expressly forbidden. The Merchant Prince commissioned a summoner to bind light elementals inside a series of glass bottles for his archivists to use when working. Apart from those few sparks, the whole archive was shrouded in the darkness.

Faysal motioned to the brightest spot in the room: a small table where the bottles stood. "Those are the only source of light permitted inside, in order to prevent a fire. My father commissioned only a limited number, but there should be some available to you." Only the most dedicated staff worked every day, after all.

One of the archivists shambling around in their long robes noticed their presence and hurried over. His eyes widened at the sight of Faysal as he quickly bowed, his beard almost touching the floor. "Ah- it is rare to see you here, my lord! How can your humble servant assist you?"

Faysal pointed to Zahir and Lapis Lazuli. "Those are my guests. I have granted them access to the archives for the work they must do. Extend all courtesy to them."

"I will, my lord!" the man assured him. With his permission, he turned his attention to the two. "How can I help the honoured guests? What do you need from the archives?"

[DragonSong]

Lapis started, as though not entirely expecting the question to be addressed to her. "Oh, well, ah..." She glanced at Zahir, but when he offered no help-- not exactly a surprise-- she huffed and rolled her eyes. "Could you point me in the direction of the histories? Preferably something that mentions folklore?"

She didn't want to come right out and say djinn. There was no telling what any given person's reaction to that might be.

[quaggan]

 The archivist stroked his beard thoughtfully. Faysal didn't have to read his mind to know his dilemma - any merchant prince would keep documents on past deals, changes in tax law, trade routes and similar important information. Folklore and histories were simply not relevant to their business. He feared that in this aspect, the family archives would not be as useful to Lapis Lazuli as she might have hoped.

"Well, folklore and history are not my area of expertise" the man began, bowing apologetically. "With your permission, I'll fetch Archivist Maahir - that's something he could help with."

He was addressing the woman, but his glance kept straying towards Faysal. He was clearly not doing well with two sources of authority. As soon as the scholar gave permission, the heir nodded as well - no use trying to keep the man.

Fortunately, it looked like Archivist Maahir was worked today. His colleague must have explained the situation to him, as he wasted no time asking about the details. He did stare at Zahir a little, but was professional enough not to let his gaze linger. "So you are the honoured guests? Please, follow me. Our histories section is over there."

[DragonSong]

"Thank you." Trying not to wilt under the pomp and propriety of the place, Lapis kept her back as straight as she could manage as she followed the archivist. Zahir trailed behind her, glancing aroudn with an almost bored kind of curiosity.

[quaggan]

 Looked like his guests were taken care of. Faysal no longer saw a purpose in remaining inside the archives - there was nothing he needed to check, and outside his duty awaited. He's already used up a lot of time, and would have to make up for it. With a wave of his hand, he commanded the slaves to carry him out of the archives.

Archivist Maahir led the strange pair further into the archives. He stopped by the row of shelves seemingly no different from the others, stony and cold. He indicated at the area nearby. "Here begins our histories section, but even though it's modest, it would take years to properly cover it. Are you looking for any era or topic in particular?"

[DragonSong]

"What do you have about the rise of the first Shah to power?" Zahir asked abruptly.

Lapis blinked, a little surprised, and glanced back at him, but didn't protest. "Uh, yes. That. Anything useful, maybe?"

[quaggan]

 Maahir nodded, glad to have the request narrowed down. "We do. The most known account is the official imperial chronicle - we have a copy, of course, but I won't bore you with that - if that's what you're researching, I'm sure that was the first source you consulted. There are also diaries of the first Shah's contemporaries, one epic poem, although its accuracy is dubious at best..." He wrung his hands, looking apologetic. "This isn't a historical archive, so we may not have a lot, but I hope it'll help. This way."

[DragonSong]

"I'm sure whatever you have is better than nothing," Lapis said with a quick smile. "Thank you."

Zahir rolled his eyes, but simply trailed behind as she followed their guide.

[quaggan]

 Maahir caught the eye roll, but either decided that it was not meant for him and the archives, or chose not to do anything about it. He began climbing a nearby ladder, sturdy enough that it didn't even buckle under his weight. He stopped after seventeen steps, hooked one arm around the railing and reached far to the right, locking his fingers around a well-dusted scroll. He tucked it under his arm before beginning a slowed ascent.

He presented it to Lapis. "If you're looking for a quiet place to read, there should be a table with chairs near the entrance. I can find the rest while you're perusing this one."

[DragonSong]

"Thank you very much." The younger scholar took the offered scroll with a grateful smile, ducking her head before scurrying over to one of the chairs.

Zahir watched her go with a small role of his eyes and a half smile curving at his lips. "Silly little thing."

[quaggan]

 Maahir returned several minutes later, his robe dirtied by dust. Clearly, history was not a popular study subject among the Merchant Prince's family. He placed a few scrolls on the chosen table, bowing quickly. "If there is anything you will need, Mistress, please let one of the other archivists know, and they will inform me."

[DragonSong]

"Mhm, I will, thank you," Lapis replied, not even truly listening. Zahir rolled his eyes, already swiftly growing bored.

"Hey, Master Archivist. What's the quickest way back up into the manor proper?"

[quaggan]

 The archivist blinked, clearly not expecting one of the guests to leave that early. But then again, it was the woman who seemed more interested in the research - he could be just her bodyguard or... a servant of some other kind. "The door is right over here" he began. "The guards will open it for you if you ask. From there, follow the corridor, turn right, then go under the azure arch."

[DragonSong]

"Wonderful, thank you." Zahir grinned, gave the man a polite bow, then turned on his heel and strolled back toward the door, whistling.

Lapis was so absorbed in the books that she didn't even seem to notice.

[quaggan]

 The guards-slash-gatepullers of the archives were willing to give Zahir directions to the guest wing - while they obviously couldn't know what specific room the strange couple was assigned to, the Palace of the Rising Sun was an enduring proof that true beauty did not have to be achieved through sacrificing practical use.

However, the guest wing was rather... spacious, and most of the doors there were locked. While a simple lock was no match for djinn magic, it sent a clear message: it was not his destination. He and Lapis didn't lock up upon leaving, after all. And it looked like this first hallway was just the beginning. If the palace was meant to house a Merchant Prince's family, the esteemed ancestor who commissioned this house must have been quite a slut.

Footsteps were approaching. They didn't sound like a slave or a servant - there was some confidence to it, it was clear that the source felt confident in this place as if they owned it. But they were too light to belong to a grown man, which probably should leave the Merchant Prince out...

A young boy rounded the corner. He wasn't a page or a messenger - the rich embroidery on his light robe and the telltale clank of jewellery made it clear. His eyes narrowed as he noticed Zahir. "Who are you?" he demanded, his keen gaze sweeping over the djinn's form. "You're dressed like one of the eunuchs from the harems... but none of them would venture here."

[DragonSong]

The djinn paused, one eyebrow creeping up as he looked the boy over. "No, I'm not part of any harem." He glanced down at himself searchingly. "Not last I checked anyway."

He looked up with a shrug and a smile that showed a flash of too-sharp teeth. "Perhaps I should be asking who you are, little lordling."