The Power and the Glory

Book 1 Chapter I: Arranged

'I don't think they play at all fairly,' Alice began, in rather a complaining tone, 'and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can't hear oneself speak — and they don't seem to have any rules in particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them.' -- Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

It was summer in Neleth Ancalen, and that dratted gryphon was clawing at the roof again. Of course it was left to Naluran to deal with it. Mother was too busy fussing over that little pest Irímé. Naluran, crouched outside the library door, caught only one word in ten of their conversation. If she left she wouldn't miss much. If she didn't leave Mother would storm out to deal with the gryphon, catch her eavesdropping, and she would have a thoroughly unpleasant time.

A particularly grating screeeeek on the roof-tiles made her wince. She got up and stalked out to deal with her mother's most obnoxious pet.

"Get out of here!" she roared up at the winged menace. "Shoo! Shoo!"

The gryphon peered down at her. It clacked its beak and fluffed out the feathers on its back. It appeared to consider the situation for a minute, before deciding a mere Saoridhin immortal was no threat to it.

Naluran stooped down and picked up a pebble lying at her feet. She squinted against the light of the setting sun. Carefully she took aim and fired. Her throw went slightly astray. Instead of sailing over the gryphon's head, it landed with a clatter at its feet. The creature gave an offended squawk and spread its wings. Naluran folded her arms and watched with satisfaction as it flew back to its pen.

By the standards of the Saoridhin upper class, Mother's home was little more than a hovel. It had only two storeys and eleven rooms. Even the grounds were incredibly small, barely more than twenty egwia[1]. There was only one summer house, and a pitiful attempt at the sort of ornamental garden traditional in well-to-do homes. Most of the available space was taken up with Mother's absurd zoo.

Kumolnea Íalosisvóeln[2] had always loved exotic animals. When her parents were still alive she and her husband had frequently disappeared on years-long expeditions to find rare specimens. That had ended five hundred years ago, when a fight with a bad-tempered fedalgraill[3] had killed her husband. Now Kumolnea restricted her collection to comparatively less dangerous animals. Unfortunately for everyone around her, she cared far more for them than for her family, her duties as Anfalen[4], the running of her household, and her position in society. For the first three she depended on Naluran. For the last one she pinned all her hopes on Irímé.

As her oldest daughter and the future Anfalen, Naluran was saddled with responsibilities from the moment she learnt to write and speak coherently. They increased as she grew up. Now she was well over two thousand years old and had assumed her mother's duties in all but name. It was an open secret in the family that Kumolnea was waiting only for Irímé's marriage to pass the title to Naluran.

And that was why she and Irímé were currently in the library, leaving Naluran -- yet again -- to deal with the practical matters.

The gods, fate, or mere random chance had seen fit to give Irímé some of their great-grandmother's legendary beauty -- the beauty denied to Naluran and her other siblings. Not content with just one blessing, someone somewhere decided Irímé would be born on the Festival of Serenity, one of the most auspicious days anyone could be born on. Those of their relatives who were inclined to social-climbing immediately declared he was meant for greatness, and began trying to arrange for him to marry into a suitably important family. They were successful beyond their wildest dreams. The empress's daughter tasked the royal matchmakers with finding a future husband for her own newborn daughter. A little bit of bribery, a great deal of bargaining, much praying, and no small amount of luck all combined. The marriage between Irímé and Princess Abihira was arranged while both of them were still in their cradles.