Post by Khepri nó Dahlia(I) on Mar 9, 2009 5:07:49 GMT -5
The afternoon sun filtered through small windows, illuminating the clouds of dust that drifted through the shop's front room. I had opened the back door to let in the faint summer breeze, but it had no effect on the immense dread that seemed to hang in the air. Flickers of light danced on the walls and ceiling, as the vast amounts of exotic jewelry caught the sun's rays. In this sort of summer heat it was not impossible to hallucinate. My eyes chased the light that danced on the wall, imagining my mother's graceful steps following the patterns to form an exotic dance. The colorful fabrics she had always worn trailed behind her as her body wove a tragic story of love, lost and forgotten. Dancing was the only way in which she could express her true emotions. A stronger breeze touched the hanging jewelry, and the wall sparkled with even more intensity. The image of my mother's face lifted, and her eyes met mine before vanishing.
No, don't leave! My mind begged the hallucination. How exquisite she was. Well loved amongst Naamah's servants and the traders who did business. Had it been a month since her passing? It seemed that only yesterday I had held her sweating hands in mine, as she bid me to leave her side.
"Leave me to my fate, my love," Mother breathed weakly in the Menekhetan tongue, "I fear you will catch your death. And you still have so much to live for.
"As you do, Mother," I had replied, too optimistically.
"You will keep the shop open for business..."
"Yes. Yes I will," I managed to speak through my quiet weeping.
I calmly wiped away the tears that formed on my cheek. The past month had been a constant down pour of silent tears, as I tried to cope with the simple fact that my mother was gone from this world. I had cried more in the past four weeks than ever before. I was never one for crying, just as my mother. From age ten I was trained to be the epitome of dignity, to carry myself in a courtly manner, and to never let my facial expressions give away any wild emotions. Now, masking such human emotions was harder than ever before. The Dowayne seemed to notice.
"Khepri, I wanted to offer you my condolences," the Dowayne spoke solemnly. Sabrie nó Dahlia had always had a strong presence, perhaps emphasized by her current status as head of a House. I had always thought her stature a bit too courtly, and mannerisms much too rehearsed.
"Thank you, Madame," I had nodded gratefully.
"I understand that you might want some time to grieve for your loss, and I am more than willing to give you as much time as you need."
I had not expected such niceties coming from the Dowayne. Perhaps I was just bitter for being bound to the Night Court since birth. It was no fault of Sabrie's that I was indebted to Dahlia House. Was I not taught to be 'upright and unbending'?
"I appreciate your concern, Madame. I think it would be best to continue to serve in Naamah's name."
"As you wish, my dear." There was a moment of silence, and then, "I have also heard that your mother left the shop for you. It will be difficult to run the business while you are still working to complete your marque."
"Yes, Madame. I have every intention of finishing my marque before re-opening the shop."
"Wonderful! I am truly glad to see that you are doing so well."
I looked around the dust-filled shop - unoccupied for more than a month now. The beautiful displays were exactly where my mother had left them. The gilded exotic masks, displayed on the walls, stared at me accusingly. I had been avoiding this place since her death. She had come from nothing, and somehow managed to run a successful business for eighteen years. How was I to live up to that? My mother's voice whispered in reply:
"You will do as I have done, my darling girl. You'll manage. Upright and unbending."
A shiver ran down my spine, and I was more aware of my unfinished marque than ever before. Picking up a broom, I began to sweep away the past month's dust and dread - determined to dance in my mother's footsteps.
No, don't leave! My mind begged the hallucination. How exquisite she was. Well loved amongst Naamah's servants and the traders who did business. Had it been a month since her passing? It seemed that only yesterday I had held her sweating hands in mine, as she bid me to leave her side.
"Leave me to my fate, my love," Mother breathed weakly in the Menekhetan tongue, "I fear you will catch your death. And you still have so much to live for.
"As you do, Mother," I had replied, too optimistically.
"You will keep the shop open for business..."
"Yes. Yes I will," I managed to speak through my quiet weeping.
I calmly wiped away the tears that formed on my cheek. The past month had been a constant down pour of silent tears, as I tried to cope with the simple fact that my mother was gone from this world. I had cried more in the past four weeks than ever before. I was never one for crying, just as my mother. From age ten I was trained to be the epitome of dignity, to carry myself in a courtly manner, and to never let my facial expressions give away any wild emotions. Now, masking such human emotions was harder than ever before. The Dowayne seemed to notice.
"Khepri, I wanted to offer you my condolences," the Dowayne spoke solemnly. Sabrie nó Dahlia had always had a strong presence, perhaps emphasized by her current status as head of a House. I had always thought her stature a bit too courtly, and mannerisms much too rehearsed.
"Thank you, Madame," I had nodded gratefully.
"I understand that you might want some time to grieve for your loss, and I am more than willing to give you as much time as you need."
I had not expected such niceties coming from the Dowayne. Perhaps I was just bitter for being bound to the Night Court since birth. It was no fault of Sabrie's that I was indebted to Dahlia House. Was I not taught to be 'upright and unbending'?
"I appreciate your concern, Madame. I think it would be best to continue to serve in Naamah's name."
"As you wish, my dear." There was a moment of silence, and then, "I have also heard that your mother left the shop for you. It will be difficult to run the business while you are still working to complete your marque."
"Yes, Madame. I have every intention of finishing my marque before re-opening the shop."
"Wonderful! I am truly glad to see that you are doing so well."
I looked around the dust-filled shop - unoccupied for more than a month now. The beautiful displays were exactly where my mother had left them. The gilded exotic masks, displayed on the walls, stared at me accusingly. I had been avoiding this place since her death. She had come from nothing, and somehow managed to run a successful business for eighteen years. How was I to live up to that? My mother's voice whispered in reply:
"You will do as I have done, my darling girl. You'll manage. Upright and unbending."
A shiver ran down my spine, and I was more aware of my unfinished marque than ever before. Picking up a broom, I began to sweep away the past month's dust and dread - determined to dance in my mother's footsteps.