The Proud Mary

The Isle of Thanta slowly drifted away from the sailing ship that we had booked passage on. We are comprised of myself and Asia's four kajirae, which in itself did rather stun me. Because Asia elected to remain behind and not accompany me to Ar. My state room cabin is shared with all four women.

While I do not mind this arrangement in the least, it was when I had emptied my pockets of all the usual keys and slips of paper requesting my attentions in clandestine trysts that I felt suddenly innundated over my head. It has always been Marius' peculiar delight to sift through these tawdry invitations and select for me whose solicitations I shall respond to, and for what favors I shall ask in return. Mostly Marius' are simple return favors, such as luncheon meetings with important political diplomats aboard the same sailing vessel. I myself have never learnt why the politics of cities so intrigues Marius, who is chiefly responsible for the entertainments of Cos.

I would imagine therefore that Asia too, would leap at the chance to have her fingers in a few pies that are not of her own caste. I discovered otherwise, and much to my surprise when she met up with us at the Port of Kar, that she had very little interest in sorting through my small pile of erswhile come-ons, and simply told me that I should make my own decisions more or less. And if I do not desire a particular person's solicitious approach for sexual favors, I am to say, "I am all booked up," and just leave it at that.

Asia is so vastly different from Marius, and not just in the obvious ways. She has the ability to drive hurtful stakes into my heart and to confuse me beyond comprehension.. abilities that she has, on a few occasions, taken advantage of and inadvertanly awakened a monster inside of me that I never knew existed. Apart from Marius and Asia, I have yet another to fear.

Myself.

Invitation

A sealed scroll of parchment made of the finest rence weave has reached my hands, its paraffin wax seal yet unbroken bears the signet crest of a House in Ar that I am invited to. Me. Just me. To play my Kalika and entertain Circé Veneficus, a woman whose path I crossed what seems like a millenium ago.

I have read and reread the words a thousand times over, and each time between the lines, the words flow with more and more embellishment: "My dearest darling Damos.."

For I, Damos, property of Marius of Cos, have risen to the height of importance. It makes me smile as I read further between the lines, beautifully scripted there upon the finest of rence parchment that money can buy: "Please, I beg of you, come to Ar and entertain me.."

When I close my eyes, I imagine this woman removing her veils one by one, that I might look upon her without hindrance. The invitation is clear. And I am..

Inspired.

Silence

Without my Tasta, I have refused to succumb to any other vulnerabilities which might leave me open to the inspiration of the Muses. For I have confused myself and my reason for existing.

Asia is disappointed with me to the point of anger, yet I am forcing myself into the mechanics of musical practice as is expected of me. The scales are rigorously played. Up and down, up and down, the rise and fall of crescendo ceaseless. Monotonous. Perfectly played, rhythmic tempo paced, until the very walls scream out for reprieve.

Asia ignores me, yet I do this to spite her. And at the heart of all this noise, there lies a chasm of silence that I am crushed beneath. For there is no longer any inspiration to ignite my fires.

Addiction

From the highest pinnacles of bliss to the lowest valleys of despair, the desire for Tasta has left me exposed. Weak. For the past hand I could do naught but empty myself into her again and again, only to still find myself unsated and in need of yet more. I did not care if I never lived life again, but to be with her in my death.

I am banished to my room, and she to the kennels down in the underbelly of the House. For an entire day I have scratched at the walls and floor with my own nails until they bled, out of need for this.. addiction of mine. To smell. To taste. To join in heated communion and become one flesh, one mind, one accord.

Asia will not allow me to have her. For the kajira has disrupted me and possessed me, to the point that I am no longer myself, but a creature bent upon self-destruction.

If only I could have her here with me just once more.

Visitation

He was not expecting to see me, nor I him, to be quite honest. But I went there to the Inn on the spur of an impassioned moment. It grieved me that Marius had left me behind again, and without one word to me. Does he not know that I am utterly lost without him? Does he not care one iota?

Marius opened the door to me and allowed me inside. He was the gracious host as well. Yet there was a distance, a chasm between us that seemed to me unbridgeable. The more polite he was to me, the wider it became. Until I lost control of my faculties and threw myself at his feet with weeping, just like a foolish slave.

While I was still rejected in the end, it was not without a bit of compassion on his part. He wove his fingers into the hair of his inconsolable slave and assured me that no matter the final outcome, he would always remember me fondly. And then he took his pleasure with me in that impromptu tryst in such a way that I shall never forget.

I am a slave in love with my Master. Yet love itself is a curse under whose weight I crumble, and I am suspended like a pendulum now between two worlds; that of the Cosian Theatre District Administrator's and that of a Slaver's on Thanta Isle. Yet I do not know for certain which way the pendulum will swing, nor for whose bell I shall toll.

It is the uncertainty that vexes me most.

The Audition

With much excitment and for two hands I awaited the day of Marius' return. But all along I was in self-denial as to the real purpose of his return. For it was to see whether or not I could play my instrument. No.. actually it was to see whether I could play my instrument well. The way that I used to play her.

Marius and I were both disappointed for the exact same reason: I failed miserably. My Kalika sings as beautiful as ever, but she no longer yields to her Master. It is as if she is now my Mistress, and I am her unworthy slave. My beggance that she sing so beautifully for me went unrequited.

My Master left with only a parting word to Asia, that she pay him a visit within three day's time at the Inn where he stays. He said nothing to me, however. He did not even acknowledge me when he left. Afterward, it was the Storyteller, Tasta who consoled me with her tales of Pirates and Mutiny aboard a ship called the Serpent. I played the accompanying score to aid in the drama of her yarn between breaths.

I believe it was her initial desire to audition for Marius. Yet not for herself, but to distract him somehow from my own failure. She too, failed as miserably as I did. And later, we consoled one another with our passion. She is much the same as I am.

Czehar

I walked all night rather aimlessly, without any haste to get somewhere in particular. And in the span of ten ahns, I watched the sun set and rise again. Somewhere, in the hazed passage of time, I heard the sound of sweetness. Rapture. Yes, divine and fused with love's bliss.

His hands were wrinkled and withered with years. Slowly succumbing to the Aging Disease. Yet how I envied his hands in that very moment, drawn to the sounds emanating from the beautiful woman laid across his lap. The Czehar elicited my own desire, and for those few ehn, I longed to trade places with the aged Musician.

How I wept later. Bitter and cleansing tears. Chastising myself for the ugly shame of envy. That I would have willingly traded places and usurped an old man's last few hours together with his lover, just to sate my own selfish lusts. It is with a heart, heavy with guilt, that I returned to banish myself to my four walls and await my own just fate.