Blue Coast pt.2
Want to start at the beginning? Blue Coast pt. 1
Part 2
Emma was only spared a scolding for dripping water through the house because the servants cleared it away moments after she walked in the door. Her mother was in a rare anxious mood, in a rush to make everything ready for their guests, and the servants were in a rush behind her. The Laudriel estate was about to be host to visiting elves from Blue Coast and the many nobel dwin from Pauldrein who would come to see them.
Emma’s plans with Rilen made the whole formal affair seem much more exciting than it had before. Soon her knowledge of Blue Coast might not just come from visitors and travelers, she might actually see the city for herself.
Her parents rarely fussed over her, and in the days before their visitors arrived she saw even less of them than usual. Each day that passed Emma grew more anxious when she didn’t hear from Rilen. She spent most days in her family’s library, studying the texts that related to Patrons and the Assembly.
The library’s shelves had been carved into the stone walls of the house, and filled with many dozens of books about history, law, and dwin and dwarven culture. The tables and chairs, like all the furniture in the Laudriel estate, was stone, carved out of the earth rather than resting on it.
Such old dwarven architecture was rare, even most of the other dwarven built estates in the upper valley were not so expansively carved. The dwarven techniques used to expose and hew the stone so precisely underground had been a rarity even while the dwarven race still lived. Most estates mixed this expert dwarven style with more common furniture and construction materials.
When Emma looked at the lamps, carved from the same stone as the ceiling, the stone table, extending out of the floor, all she saw was earth and rock. Yet her mother took more pride in their home than in almost anything.
A dense, tightly bound book rested on the table in front of Emma. Each page contained details of Assembly Patrons and the businesses they’d represented. The records went back nearly four hundred years. The latest entries, from the last few decades, were in her mother’s own hand, entered for her personal records.
Emma jotted down notes in her own journal, pulling out details that might strengthen her case when she presented to the Assembly. Here, in this place she’d spent so many years studying, it was easier to push aside her excitement and face the issue with a clear mind, though she knew once she was finished with her studies the anxiety and nervous excitement would again overtake her.
“There was a runner for you at the door,” she looked up in surprise to find her brother in the doorway, “told me to pass you a message.”
“What? Are they gone?”
Nelum grinned at her, lifting just one corner of his mouth, “Yeah, I sent him on his way, it wasn’t a complicated message - east side of the Velshin Fields, usual time,” he cocked his head at her, “you have a usual time to meet somebody out in the fields?”
Emma started at him but didn’t answer.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” he shrugged.
Though older than Emma, Nelum was shorter, taking more after their mother. His orange eyes were softer than his sister’s, and his long arms made him seem more dwarfish than the common dwin. But he had the same oval face she did, the same wavy brown hair, and the same desire to wander outside their valley home.
“You could tell me what you’re reading? I can’t believe you’re still studying five times a day, like a child, Mother’s too busy to even notice. I haven’t spent one minute in this place longer than I need to.”
At twenty-seven Emma was not still a child, yet not quite an adult. It would be a few more years still until she could leave her family estate, if she chose, and pursue her own ends. Though Nelum was old enough to leave home he, like children in many noble households, stayed in his family estate, given up independence in favor of comfort.
“I’m not acting like a child, it’s not like Tomas is here scrutinizing my penmanship.”
“Only because Tila and Moor talking him into doing their lessons outside today,” his brown folded quizzically, “How come Tomas never let us study outside when we were that young?”
“I think he’s too old to fight it anymore. We wore him down,” Emma smiled at him, “At least Tila and Moor get to benefit from all our hard work.”
“Really now, what are you reading,” he crossed the room to her, taking a seat on the padded stone bench, “You look like you actually care about it.”
“I’m studying the Merchant Assembly.”
“By the Ardent, Emma, really? At least you could be reading about something interesting,” he looked at her with a pained expression, “No, wait, don’t tell me you plan to become an Overseer like Eibe. Come on Emma, you’re much too interesting for that.”
“First of all, if you studied at all, you’d know two members of the same family can’t be Overseers at the same time,” his pained look did not vanish, and seemed to grow more severe, “and second my reasons are my own, so leave it alone.”
She closed the book and pushed it aside, picking up another, much older book. As she opened it the pages crinkled with age. Nelum’s eyes widened and he took in a deep breath.
“Careful Emma, if Mother sees you with that one she’ll be pretty upset.”
“Like you said, she’s too busy right now to notice anything.”
She turned the pages, all browning with age. The writing was still dwin, though the letters had a different quality to them, more blocky and angular than the script in most of the other books she’d read.
“She’ll notice if you ruin her favorite book. That thing’s pre-Divide, one of the oldest books in the city.”
“Oh, is it?” she rolled her eyes, “If only Mother had reminded me of that every chance she got.”
“Why do you need it anyway?”
“I said, I’m studying the Assembly. These are the laws that govern it, I need to look at them.”
“Dwarves held that book, Emma, real dwarves. They might have been the one’s to bind it, even.”
“I don’t care about Dwarves the way you and Mother do. They were just people, people who aren’t around anymore. Look,” she knocked on the table, “Dwarves built this, but it’s still ugly and cold.”
The white stone of the table rose up from the ground at many points. Carved lines of stone twisted into ornate patterns, geometric shapes encircled each other. One large hole was in the middle of the carvings on each side of the table and squares, octagons, and multi-sided stars spun around the circles. The stone grew thick toward the top where it gradually joined into one block, bending into a sturdy, smooth surface.
“Definitely don’t let Mother hear you calling her tables ugly, not with those Blue Coast elves here,” he laughed at put his arm around his sister.
She smiled weakly. Looking at the table had brought back memories of other days spent in the library with Nelum. When she was a child her older brothers, Nelum and Eibe, used to force Emma under the table, in through the large circles, and tell her she was in prison. They would pretend to drop tools in with her and tell her she had to work to make up for her crimes.
When she was very young she lashed out at them. She would scream and yell, trying to climb back out, and when they pushed her in again she would bang at the stone work until their mother yelled at them, worried they would break it. Eventually she learned the thing to do was sit, her arms crossed, not looking at them, not reacting. Soon after that they tired of the game.
The memory of being trapped in the cold, dark interior of the table flashed so vividly in her mind that she wanted to slap her brother’s hand away and run out of the house, but Nelum was talking about Blue Coast, and his words distracted her from her anger.
“There is a dwin neighborhood in Blue Coast, Father has cousins who live there. It’s a bunch of dwin who wanted to live outside Paulderain, some of them were even born in the city.”
“Do you think it’s really different there? Do you think their lives are anything like ours.”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. I bet it’s not all that different.”
“They don’t worship dwarves in Blue Coast,” she pointed out.
“No, they worship ceruleanite, or near enough. Without Tunki’s Daughter and the ceruleanite it deposits, they would just be another port city, one stop along the coast. With it they are one of the most important cities in the world.”
Emma didn’t agree with that, but said nothing. Ceruleanite was common down the long leagues of the river, Blue Coast was far from the world’s only source of the valuable stones, and most of the ones that washed up on its beaches lacked any magical properties and were only good for decoration.
“Why are you meeting that merchant girl?” he turned to her, his mouth in a cock-eyed grin again.
“I’m not telling you, Nelum.”
“She’d the one with the red eyes, right, Ze’Manel’s little sister.”
“Yes, can you go, I’d like to finish studying,” she gestured to the books still spread before her.
“Alright, I’ll leave it alone. You should get changed soon, though. Those elves will be here, and Mother is going to want us looking our best.”
“I’m sure she’ll be by to tell me the same herself soon.”
He nodded down to the law book, “Then put that away, she really has no temper right now.”
“Thanks,” she smiled at him, “I just need to write out a few things, then she’ll never know I touched it.”
Part 2
Emma was only spared a scolding for dripping water through the house because the servants cleared it away moments after she walked in the door. Her mother was in a rare anxious mood, in a rush to make everything ready for their guests, and the servants were in a rush behind her. The Laudriel estate was about to be host to visiting elves from Blue Coast and the many nobel dwin from Pauldrein who would come to see them.
Emma’s plans with Rilen made the whole formal affair seem much more exciting than it had before. Soon her knowledge of Blue Coast might not just come from visitors and travelers, she might actually see the city for herself.
Her parents rarely fussed over her, and in the days before their visitors arrived she saw even less of them than usual. Each day that passed Emma grew more anxious when she didn’t hear from Rilen. She spent most days in her family’s library, studying the texts that related to Patrons and the Assembly.
The library’s shelves had been carved into the stone walls of the house, and filled with many dozens of books about history, law, and dwin and dwarven culture. The tables and chairs, like all the furniture in the Laudriel estate, was stone, carved out of the earth rather than resting on it.
Such old dwarven architecture was rare, even most of the other dwarven built estates in the upper valley were not so expansively carved. The dwarven techniques used to expose and hew the stone so precisely underground had been a rarity even while the dwarven race still lived. Most estates mixed this expert dwarven style with more common furniture and construction materials.
When Emma looked at the lamps, carved from the same stone as the ceiling, the stone table, extending out of the floor, all she saw was earth and rock. Yet her mother took more pride in their home than in almost anything.
A dense, tightly bound book rested on the table in front of Emma. Each page contained details of Assembly Patrons and the businesses they’d represented. The records went back nearly four hundred years. The latest entries, from the last few decades, were in her mother’s own hand, entered for her personal records.
Emma jotted down notes in her own journal, pulling out details that might strengthen her case when she presented to the Assembly. Here, in this place she’d spent so many years studying, it was easier to push aside her excitement and face the issue with a clear mind, though she knew once she was finished with her studies the anxiety and nervous excitement would again overtake her.
“There was a runner for you at the door,” she looked up in surprise to find her brother in the doorway, “told me to pass you a message.”
“What? Are they gone?”
Nelum grinned at her, lifting just one corner of his mouth, “Yeah, I sent him on his way, it wasn’t a complicated message - east side of the Velshin Fields, usual time,” he cocked his head at her, “you have a usual time to meet somebody out in the fields?”
Emma started at him but didn’t answer.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” he shrugged.
Though older than Emma, Nelum was shorter, taking more after their mother. His orange eyes were softer than his sister’s, and his long arms made him seem more dwarfish than the common dwin. But he had the same oval face she did, the same wavy brown hair, and the same desire to wander outside their valley home.
“You could tell me what you’re reading? I can’t believe you’re still studying five times a day, like a child, Mother’s too busy to even notice. I haven’t spent one minute in this place longer than I need to.”
At twenty-seven Emma was not still a child, yet not quite an adult. It would be a few more years still until she could leave her family estate, if she chose, and pursue her own ends. Though Nelum was old enough to leave home he, like children in many noble households, stayed in his family estate, given up independence in favor of comfort.
“I’m not acting like a child, it’s not like Tomas is here scrutinizing my penmanship.”
“Only because Tila and Moor talking him into doing their lessons outside today,” his brown folded quizzically, “How come Tomas never let us study outside when we were that young?”
“I think he’s too old to fight it anymore. We wore him down,” Emma smiled at him, “At least Tila and Moor get to benefit from all our hard work.”
“Really now, what are you reading,” he crossed the room to her, taking a seat on the padded stone bench, “You look like you actually care about it.”
“I’m studying the Merchant Assembly.”
“By the Ardent, Emma, really? At least you could be reading about something interesting,” he looked at her with a pained expression, “No, wait, don’t tell me you plan to become an Overseer like Eibe. Come on Emma, you’re much too interesting for that.”
“First of all, if you studied at all, you’d know two members of the same family can’t be Overseers at the same time,” his pained look did not vanish, and seemed to grow more severe, “and second my reasons are my own, so leave it alone.”
She closed the book and pushed it aside, picking up another, much older book. As she opened it the pages crinkled with age. Nelum’s eyes widened and he took in a deep breath.
“Careful Emma, if Mother sees you with that one she’ll be pretty upset.”
“Like you said, she’s too busy right now to notice anything.”
She turned the pages, all browning with age. The writing was still dwin, though the letters had a different quality to them, more blocky and angular than the script in most of the other books she’d read.
“She’ll notice if you ruin her favorite book. That thing’s pre-Divide, one of the oldest books in the city.”
“Oh, is it?” she rolled her eyes, “If only Mother had reminded me of that every chance she got.”
“Why do you need it anyway?”
“I said, I’m studying the Assembly. These are the laws that govern it, I need to look at them.”
“Dwarves held that book, Emma, real dwarves. They might have been the one’s to bind it, even.”
“I don’t care about Dwarves the way you and Mother do. They were just people, people who aren’t around anymore. Look,” she knocked on the table, “Dwarves built this, but it’s still ugly and cold.”
The white stone of the table rose up from the ground at many points. Carved lines of stone twisted into ornate patterns, geometric shapes encircled each other. One large hole was in the middle of the carvings on each side of the table and squares, octagons, and multi-sided stars spun around the circles. The stone grew thick toward the top where it gradually joined into one block, bending into a sturdy, smooth surface.
“Definitely don’t let Mother hear you calling her tables ugly, not with those Blue Coast elves here,” he laughed at put his arm around his sister.
She smiled weakly. Looking at the table had brought back memories of other days spent in the library with Nelum. When she was a child her older brothers, Nelum and Eibe, used to force Emma under the table, in through the large circles, and tell her she was in prison. They would pretend to drop tools in with her and tell her she had to work to make up for her crimes.
When she was very young she lashed out at them. She would scream and yell, trying to climb back out, and when they pushed her in again she would bang at the stone work until their mother yelled at them, worried they would break it. Eventually she learned the thing to do was sit, her arms crossed, not looking at them, not reacting. Soon after that they tired of the game.
The memory of being trapped in the cold, dark interior of the table flashed so vividly in her mind that she wanted to slap her brother’s hand away and run out of the house, but Nelum was talking about Blue Coast, and his words distracted her from her anger.
“There is a dwin neighborhood in Blue Coast, Father has cousins who live there. It’s a bunch of dwin who wanted to live outside Paulderain, some of them were even born in the city.”
“Do you think it’s really different there? Do you think their lives are anything like ours.”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. I bet it’s not all that different.”
“They don’t worship dwarves in Blue Coast,” she pointed out.
“No, they worship ceruleanite, or near enough. Without Tunki’s Daughter and the ceruleanite it deposits, they would just be another port city, one stop along the coast. With it they are one of the most important cities in the world.”
Emma didn’t agree with that, but said nothing. Ceruleanite was common down the long leagues of the river, Blue Coast was far from the world’s only source of the valuable stones, and most of the ones that washed up on its beaches lacked any magical properties and were only good for decoration.
“Why are you meeting that merchant girl?” he turned to her, his mouth in a cock-eyed grin again.
“I’m not telling you, Nelum.”
“She’d the one with the red eyes, right, Ze’Manel’s little sister.”
“Yes, can you go, I’d like to finish studying,” she gestured to the books still spread before her.
“Alright, I’ll leave it alone. You should get changed soon, though. Those elves will be here, and Mother is going to want us looking our best.”
“I’m sure she’ll be by to tell me the same herself soon.”
He nodded down to the law book, “Then put that away, she really has no temper right now.”
“Thanks,” she smiled at him, “I just need to write out a few things, then she’ll never know I touched it.”
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