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A Little Less Counselor, A Little More Concubine Part 3 For Fyacintia By Draconicon

The Emperor's chambers could be reached from four directions, and three of them led to the chambers of his harem of concubines and counselors. The dragoness Kisari, the hybrid Alys, and the lion Fyacin were each blessed with easy access to the Emperor of Dol-Ma, though at that moment, only one had made use of it. The other two, petulant as they always were after being passed over for their feline colleague, were taking their breakfast several halls down.

Fyacin joined them, the lion smiling through the morning load of his master, squelching it about in his mouth a few times to rub the faces of his fellow counselors into what he had and they did not. The dragoness and hybrid narrowed their eyes at him from where they knelt beside the breakfast pond, not saying a word.

He pulled his robe slightly tighter about his middle, kneeling on a cushion of his own as one of the imperial fish pushed a little tray of food and drink toward him. A cup of tea, steaming and fresh-poured, sat on one end of the floating tray, and a small plate of smoked fish and cheese sat on the other.

More lunch food than breakfast, but it would do.

The feline took it in hand, lifting it from the water and setting it upon the stone before him. He lifted the cup of tea for a sip, and it was only when he had a mouthful of the just short of scalding drink that Alys spoke.

"I would hope the Emperor gave sufficient cream for all of us, Fyacin."

He coughed slightly, a hint of the Emperor's seed still dissolving in the tea. The lion set the cup down, shaking his head before looking at his fellow counselor.

Both her and Kisari continued to look at him with level stares, neither openly disapproving but both obviously annoyed with him.

Unsurprisingly, really, considering that he had gained what both had wished for, but they could be better mannered about it.

"If you mean to suggest that I seduced our master to bed with nothing but my body, I would be flattered, dear Alys," the lion said, bowing his head. "But it is with my mind and spirit that I earn my reward, much as you have...in the past."

"And in the present," the hybrid was quick to point out. "While you have the voice of the people in your ear, I whisper to our Emperor of the voices of the trees and the sky, of the rolling stones on the mountainside and the energies of the stars themselves. I speak to him with the voice of time and place."

"As I speak to him of the deep tones, of the rolling waters beneath the world and the tides of clouds that ride the winds," Kisari added. "You are the voice of mortals, Fyacin, where we are the voices of the world."

"And such voices are nice, I'm sure, but it is mortal man that we must be concerned about, not the doubtlessly pretty voices of the stars and the seas."

The lion twitched his lips slightly, taking another sip of his tea. It was quite lovely, a strong black that served well to wake the mind in the morning. He took another drink, a bigger one, swallowing it quickly.

"And besides, the pair of you had the chance to offer advice. It was your decision to merely offer information to him."

"It was a mutual decision between the three of us...or so I thought," Kisari muttered, the blue-scaled dragoness coiling tighter about herself, her tail a third limb that wrapped about herself in coil after coil.

Alys was not much better, the long-legged hybrid looking at him over her teacup with eyes that were both speculative and barbed. Her fingers were tense, her face just relaxed enough to hide a tension that he knew that he had put there.

The mischievous lion could only smile at the knowledge that he had gotten so far under their skin.

"If you are so concerned about my disengagement from our agreement, then perhaps you should be better," he said, bobbing his head side to side in contentment. "If you wish to unseat me from the Emperor's favor, then please do so. If you can."

He honestly doubted that they could. After all, he was the youngest member of the council, having replaced his father after retirement. The other two had managed to hold their own with his father's voice and advice, and more than once the older lion had bitterly complained about their mystical nature.

Fyacin had made it a goal in his life to make sure they always earned the ear of the master, to ensure that he was as tempting a source of information and advice as possible. It was all too satisfying to know that he was succeeding in his goal.

As he finished his tea, he turned his attention to his food, steadfastly ignoring the continued glare of daggers coming from across the breakfast pond. He spread the fish upon the cheese, and the cheese upon a small bit of bread, nibbling at it contentedly.

As they ate, the officials of the palace passed by, servants clad in gray robes and misty masks, their features just visible enough to prevent an assassin while still masked enough to allow for the sense that they were alone, that it was only a natural thing that passed through the room rather than people. The concubines and counselors ate in silence, finishing their food before it was taken away.

"I will meditate with this pond this morning," Kisari announced, breaking the silence as the servants left the room. "I wish some quiet for it. If you will leave me?"

"Of course," Alys said. "Come, Fyacin."

The lion arched an eyebrow at the commanding tone in the woman's voice. She looked down at him as she took to her feet, the gaze just enticing enough for him to smile and nod.

"I shall join you, then. Perhaps there is something of interest to us or our master in the hallways. Tell me if you find any interesting fish in your watery meditations, Kisari," he said, getting to his feet.

The pair of them left the breakfast room, entering the hallways and following them wherever the long corridors took them. The great corridors of the palace were carved of ancient stone and painted with pressed colors, the little dots forming great segments of art that faded and flourished depending on their age.

They walked past a great depiction of a sunrise, the light filtering through water and plants before coming to rest on an Emperor that bore little resemblance to the current one, at least just yet. Fyacin imagined that the next time that the painting was done, their current ruler would be depicted in this one's place.

Yet, the sunlight through the painting came through as if real, and in some ways, it was. The ancient art of painting moments could bring a hint of time and reality through the depictions on the rock, and the lion and the hybrid paused to admire it, soaking in the sunlight and warmth through the painting itself.

They stood there in silence for a time, but Fyacin could not allow such a moment to pass by. He turned his head, smiling.

"So, does this painting speak to you? It is, after all, of the sun and sky. Or would you need more stars than the sun to speak before they're loud enough to be heard."

"You do more flips with that tongue of yours than a thousand acrobats," Alys said, her tone as long-suffering as he could imagine. "Would it hurt you at all to acknowledge that we have a point?"

"I would acknowledge every point you have, if you would merely make one rather than spout the words of your books and informants." He chuckled. "One must make decisions from time to time rather than just read and be informed."

"And one must be informed before one can make a decision. If you are not informed, then you will be -"

The lion held up his hand, opening and closing his fingers and thumb in mockery of a mouth. Of course, he dropped his hand as soon as Alys turned to face him, looking as mockingly attentive as ever.

She shook her head slowly.

"The Emperor rules over mortal man, but the realm is more than that. The spirits upon the Sky Roads speak to us, and through them, we know the way of sun and cloud, of moon and rain. The water speak to us, and we know the swell of the land, the moments of planting and of plenty. Why do you think you are better than us?"

"Probably for the same reason that you think that you are better than the mortal man that I speak for; we all have different priorities."

"I feel that the language of the ear has lost its touch for you, Fyacin. Perhaps the language of iron or the language of the floor will speak to you better."

"Are you challenging me, Alys?"

"Perhaps I am. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"

"...Perfectly."

They arrived at different ends of the training floor on the lower levels of the palace. A balcony that stretched out over the lowest of the cherry tree gardens, the training floor was more of a platform that encouraged agility and speed over the raw force that many soldiers used. The floor was fragile, so too hard a step would send a fighter plummeting to the trees below, either bruising themselves upon the branches or falling to the blossom-strewn ground.

Of course, one could not be too light on their feet, either. There were no railings, no protections at the edges of the platform to keep one from falling, either, and one could easily lose their balance or even throw themselves from the heights if they weren't careful. Or, if one got in a lucky blow on the other, knock them flying.

Fyacin took a rapier for himself, forged of blunted iron with a balled tip, while Alys took a quarterstaff for herself. He smiled at the spinning wood, shaking his head.

"A fine defensive weapon, but hardly one that will stop the sting of my new metal 'tongue'. Would you care to kiss it first, or shall I ram it down your throat?" he teased.

"Perhaps you would care to learn the language of the wood, oh counselor of the people. You certainly speak in dick well enough."

They tapped the tips of their chosen weapons together, took three steps back, and began.

There was no audience to impress, no group that had to be intimidated. Instead, it was a silent rush to see who could teach the other a lesson first. The lion lunged forward, leaping on the balls of his feet. Even with the slight pressure of the jump, the floor ripped beneath him, a five foot square left open that would drop one or the other down a dozen feet or more if they were not careful.

He flicked his rapier out, but she was quicker, spinning on her toes to one of the support beams of the platform. His stabbing motions caught the tip of the quarterstaff, only to be flicked away, the staff swinging for him.

The lion saved himself by grabbing the tip, riding the swing and coming down on the support beam on the opposite side of Alys's old square. He wobbled on his tiptoes for a moment or two, then took up a proper pose again.

"I'm glad to see your lesson won't end too soon," she said.

"Ah, but who said that you were the teacher?"

They danced upon the beams, tails flicking and twitching to keep their balance as they leaped and spun, twirled and struck out at one another. For every lucky twitch that the lion made with his rapier, for every little tap that he managed on the hybrid's leg or arm, she managed two upon his chest.

He grunted as she drove him back, jumping and leaping about for all he was worth. One jump, two, three, always keeping just a scant second ahead of her next strike. She was faster than he was, despite the fact that she was using a heavier weapon, and she was making him break one square after another.

She had the advantage of firmer footing, her larger feet grasping at the beams as she took them as a sure path forward, while he kept having to leap and dodge and duck around her blows.

Soon, he was at the edge of the platform, hanging on by his tiptoes, and Alys smiled as she stopped her swing just under his chin. The lion looked down at it, then up at her.

"If you think that the lesson has landed, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I don't speak wood."

"Obviously."

"Perhaps you can speak -"

She did...something. It involved a flick of her tail combined with a twist of her wrists, but whatever it was, the staff dropped down, smacked him in the side of the knee, and knocked him down to all fours. He yelped as he landed on the paper square, half expecting it to rip out from under him.

But it didn't. Instead, Alys squatted down in front of him, tapping him on the shoulder with the edge of the staff.

"Now, oh glib one, perhaps you can tell me how I won?"

"...By having abnormally large feet to follow the beams instead of fighting fair?"

"When one loses, it's seen as cheating, but when one wins, it's seen as making a strategic choice, hmm?"

"Perspective is everything, and from my perspective, you were cheating. But do tell, what lesson should I have learned?"

"Everything builds on itself. One attack flows into the next, one retreat becomes another. The world reaches for patterns, for beauty, for symmetry, and it will push you into one if you are not careful. You have made a pattern of victory; take care that you do not lay the trap for your own defeat."

She stood up, smiling.

"Oh, and have a nice fall."

"Wha -"

She tapped the paper floor with her quarterstaff, and it ripped. Fyacin screamed all the way down.

The End