The Ever Lord: Kasta Illibran

The first thing Sir Kasta Illibran did when he woke up was wash his face and put on his makeup.

The second thing Sir Kasta Illibran did when he woke up was to kneel in front of the Iron Sigil of the Lord of Ever and Always, and say his prayers for morning service.

The third thing Sir Kasta Illibran did when he woke up was get dressed in the long red robe of the Quill-Servants, and slip his small emergency bag under his belt.

The fourth thing he did when he woke was eat a quick breakfast of roasted root and thin butter, and drink a quick glass of mull-mead. It was the same breakfast he had eaten for over a decade, and he barely tasted the bitter spices anymore.

The fifth thing he did was to pick up the travel-desk that rested on the broad silken cloth covered platform along the wall. Opening the top, he made sure the desk was prepared with five vials of ink, ten quills, and a small cloth-bound wrap of various Quill-servant tools. Once he was satisfied, he carefully adjusted the strap as he pulled it over his head, and settled the broad wooden plank against his stomach before tying off the rope around his back.

The sixth and final thing he did was open his door and unlock the tiny missive-box that hung on its center. Inside, the thick coil of paper that had been placed there during the night sat wrapped in ribbon and wax. Every morning, he pulled out the scroll and unrolled it to read the long list of names, addresses, times, and designations; his instructions for the day. He would then slip the scroll into his pocket, before walking through the Hall of Record and out into the Palace of Ever and Always.

Now, Kasta was ready to begin his daily duties.

The Ever Palace wasn’t really a palace; more of a city in its own right. The palace walls stretched farther than most cities among the Five Worlds, and rose higher than the tallest trees. The walls surrounded an area twice as large as the greatest cities in the Ever Empire. No, the Palace of Ever and Always was more than a palace; it was an entire world unto itself. When Kasta had first arrived, some ten years ago, he found himself lost almost every day.

But he had learned. Like all Quill-Servants — like all Palace servants — a good half of his waking hours were spent either traveling from place to place, or working out the fastest path to get where he needed to go. Already the invisible maths were cycling away in his head as he decided whether it was worthwhile to summon a cart to ferry him across the plazas, or better to slip through the less-traveled alleyways and shortcuts to reach his first destination.

Today, his first destination was the Plaza of One Horizon. It was a long walk, but the Quill-servants of the Hall of Record knew several of the ancient secrets passed down from their Ever Lord himself, and so practiced a method of walking that took little effort and yet covered a large distance. It was a necessary skill, as the Plaza was the largest district in the Palace, containing over a hundred mansions, villas, and residences for the many House Emissaries who had come to petition their Lord of Ever and Always for redress, permission, or honors.

Kasta’s destination was the grounds of the Emissary Mansion of House Kantagon, where a young Duchess had usurped the title from her father. The daughter gave a quick speech, to which many of the soldiers applauded. The others couldn’t, as their hands had been tied behind their backs and their heads removed from their shoulders. Kasta wrote down the speech in his thick notebook, noting the time, date, and who precisely was present. He asked the new Duchess’s name three times, writing it down in three separate places.

His first duty discharged, he next made his way to the Golden Port; the massive tower that rose out from the edge of the Palace. Here, Holy Vessels from all across the Five Worlds came and went, traveling the surrounding desert and the Velvet to bring food, clothing, gold, and other tithes to the Palace of Ever and Always. Many Lords and Ladies came along with their offerings, making sure their gifts were noted, documented, and rewarded properly. Kasta arrived just in time to witness the official exchange of tithes and honors from House Polaris; specifically a collection of dark-purple wheat, boxes of assorted fruits, piles of silver furs, and five fine pewter goblets.

Kasta’s third duty was several hours away, so he spent the intervening time helping his fellow Quill-servants whose duties were more stationary. He recorded seven books-worth of goods from over twenty-nine cargo vessels, eyes squinting in the sandy winds. He tabulated exactly how much was in every crate and barrel before handing off the papers to the ranking Collator, who added them to the stack that rested under the weight of a thick iron symbol of the Holy Tithers.

When the Six Bells rang Midday, he gave his farewells before making his way to the Grand Central Plaza, the brain center of the entire Empire. Nobles met both casually and formally to discuss the issues of the day, making deals and shaking hands. Every treaty, contract, edict, and insult that rippled across the Empire had its beginnings here, in the massive divot that stretched nearly five lengths across the Palace of Ever and Always. Kasta arrived just in time to hear a speech being given by a Potentate of the Ivory Thrush, waving his holy scepter about like a conductor’s baton. Buried in his eloquent diatribe were several points of significance that Kasta carefully recorded before continuing on his rounds.

His rounds were extensive, and seemed to be longer every day. The Empire of Ever and Always was a bustling machine, full of industry, agriculture, philosophy, and military exercises. The many Houses of the Five Worlds engaged in bickering, apologia, bargaining, and agreements that reshaped the balance of power on a daily basis. There were weddings, births, deaths, and through all of it the Quill-servants of the Hall of Record took note. They were the lifeblood of the bureaucracy.

At long last, Six Bells rang late afternoon, and Kasta set down his quill, stretching his fingers. He had only one more task before his day was complete, and he could return to the Hall of Record and hand off his papers to the Librarian. Time was of the essence, so he wandered to the outskirts of the Grand Central Plaza and found a Gilbrim Rickjin.

“The Plaza of One Horizon,” he said, as he climbed into the bowl-chair. “Villa of House Polaris, servants’ side. Fast as you can.”

The small green face of the Gilbrim glanced over its shoulder with a smirk. “Then ‘old yerself fast,” it chortled through its sharp teeth, “as fast as I am.” Shifting its grip on the Rickjin’s long handles, the clatter of its curved wooden shoes began to rattle on the stones as it picked up speed.

On the way, Kasta pulled out his small emergency bag and touched up his face.

The journey took no time at all, well worth the three coins Kasta pulled from his pocket and deposited into the small slot of the wooden coin-box that fixed to the front of the Rickjin. The Gilbrim tapped its forehead with two fingers at the second clink of coin, and three fingers with the third. “Generous, mi’nob,” it cackled as it hoisted the handles over its shoulders. “An’ kind.”

“Carry well,” Kasta nodded to the small figure as it rocked back and forth on its curved shoes, already looking about for its next customer.

Adjusting the travel-desk on his stomach again, Kasta turned about and began to walk up the small path to the large mansion that was the Estate of the Emmessarry of House Polaris.

The servants’ side was far less ornate than the front, and humbly guarded. There was no gate, no garden, and only one armord guard who stood less with an air of divine import, and more the casual air of a hired statue. The Doorsmin stared as Kasta approached, pulling themselves upright as Kasta came to a stop. “I am summoned by the Honored Emissary of House Polaris,” he said. “Please let me pass.”

“Another one?” The Doorsmin reached for the keys at her belt. “Already seen one of you come through today.”

“Oh dear,” Kasta said while the Doorsmin worked at the lock. “I fear two of us may have been sent by accident.”

If the Doorsmin noted Kasta’s placid tone, she made no sign. Instead, she glanced up the road in the direction of the departed Rickjin. “I hear the Byways Guild is trying got rid of them. Heh. No getting rid of the Gilbrim. They mock the Aspectured Wall as water laughs at locks.”

“I am certain an accord will be reached,” Kasta said as the Doorsmin stepped aside from the now open door. “Thank you for your service, Good Doorsmin.”

“Alright then,” she gave a nod as Kasta passed.

The servants’ entrance was humble, yes, but it was still the villa of House Polaris’s Emissary. The wooden trim of the walls was polished to a metalic shine, and the floors were covered with colorful carpeting. The candles and torches burned from shining metal sconces, bathing the entry with a warm and comforting light — only necessary because of the lack of windows.

Kasta brushed the errant wisps of sand from his robe before reaching out to the sideboard and gently ringing the brass hanging bell to summon attendance.

He didn’t need to wait long. A handful of heartbeats was all it took before the villa’s Imwii head-maid stepped into the room, her look of curiosity vanishing into an eye-twinkling smile as her gaze lit upon Kasta’s face. “Sir Illibran,” she gave a respectful curtsy. “To what do we own this honor and pleasure?”

“I am here by the will of his Honored Grace, the Emissary Duchen of House Polaris,” Kasta bowed as best he could without spilling the ink in his travel-desk’s well. “Now I will wait for his pleasure, if it please you, Good Lady Maid?”

“Ooh,” the head-maid leaned forward in a shrewd and conspiratorial manner. “You two will get caught one of these days, mark my words, if you keep on with this sort of thing.”

How many times had Kasta thought the same thing to himself, his own scornful voice echoing in his head? He answered the head-maid as he always answered himself. “Perhaps, but not today, I hope. Pray tell, where might be the most comfortable spot to wait for his Honored Grace’s eventual pleasure?”

The head-maid threw up her hands in mock frustration, “Fine, be it on your own head. You can wait wherever you like, I suspect. Don’t bring me into your un-virtuous schemes.”

Kasta fingered the side of his desk, feeling the decorative trim under his fingertips. “Please don’t worry yourself over us, Good Lady; I couldn’t enjoy myself if it came at the cost of your nerves.”

Her poorly-hid smile broke through her tight lips, and she tugged on her curved ears as her voice dropped low. “I’ll suppose you’d want to wait in the garden. That should be comfortable enough for the scoundrelly likes of you. Now get along with yourself and stop teasing a poor old maid.”

Kasta bowed once more and slipped his way through the manor house of House Polaris’s Emissary. He admired House Polaris. To those who observed the politics of the Great Houses, it would be easy to overlook the House. Every other Great House possessed at least two manors or villas in the Plaza of One Horizon, often times three or four. House Ka-Melan had no less than seven, each one housing a powerful noble.

House Polaris only had one. Some would say this showed a marked lack of ambition, but the wise saw this as something remarkable. Throughout the generations, House Polaris did not have the same serpents’ nest of factions, personal ambitions, political squabbles, and internal infighting that always managed to rise in the other Houses. If there was only one mansion of House Polaris, it was because the House was of one mind, and required only a single voice in the courts and plazas of the Ever Palace.

The current Emissary Duke, his Honored Grace, the Duchen Airesh Polaris, had held the position for over thirty years without contest. Kasta admired him for that; as a Quill-servant, to see such an anchor of stability in the sea of perpetual political motion was…gratifying. Soothing.

Before long, Kasta found his way to the Manor’s gardens. The gardens were open-air, with large trees native to House Polaris’s home province rising straight and thin into the sky. Wispy branches swayed in the calm breeze, and five separate flowerbeds all sprouted multi-color blossoms. In the middle of the garden was a granite fountain, with a tiled lip for visitors to sit and observe the pleasant environs. A spot was already occupied by Lady Juna Polaris, the Honored Grace’s daughter.

She was dressed in soft blue, a dress that came half way down her thigh in the fashion of House Polaris. Her neck was covered with a tall laced collar, and her shoulders were bare. She wore no gloves, and her sleeves were decorated with ornate curves and spirals. In her hand, she held a long thin clay pipe, a faint trickle of smoke wafting from its bowl.

Fans and handkerchiefs were the most common tools used in the subtle art of whispered communication throughout the court. Of the countless dialects spoken throughout the Ever Palace, none were as detailed or intricate as the gentle poses and flourishes of the nobility. For House Polaris, the choice was pipes.

The tip of her pipe rested on her lips. Kasta’s heart skipped a beat.

“Sir Quill-servant,” Lady Juna gave a seated curtsy, a plume of smoke leaking from her mouth. “What an unexpected honor. I presume you are here to see my father?” The smooth curve of her pipe’s neck arcing through the air betrayed the delight hidden by her calm poise. “He is speaking with a delegation from the Third Sphere today.”

“That was my intent,” Kasta bowed in return. “It seems the Hall of Record has sent two Quill-servants instead of one. I find myself quite superflouous.”

“Oh dear,” Juna smiled. “And the Hall of Record is usually so fastidious. How disappointed you must be.” The tip of her pipe rested gently on her arm, while her thin fingers traced the pipe’s rim.

“Absolutely distraught, my Lady. If I were more than I was, I would demand recompence for the error. It is, of course, entirely within your perview to demand such, if you wish.”

“I suppose I must do what is expected of me,” Juna sighed while tapping her pipe on the side of the fountain. “Such is the burden of nobility. As my father will no doubt be busy for the rest of the day, I do demand retribution. You must amuse me until they are finished, through some capering or jesterly baffoonery, I suspect.”

Kasta walked on floating feet closer to the fountain. “I am afraid I have no talant for japes, my Lady. My talents reside entirely in the writing and reading of letters.”

“Writing and reading must walk hand in hand with speaking. Come and waste your time in conversation with me, until you find something more important to do.”

“I couldn’t imagine anything more important.” Kasta gestured to her side. “May I sit? I find myself tired after my walk through your villa.”

“So much larger than your usual wandering, I’m sure,” Juna pointed with the neck of her pipe. “The great Sir Kasta Illibran doubtlessly walks very little during the day.”

“Hardly at all,” Kasta settled next to her, his travel-desk rattling as he did. “I simply sit like a spider, waiting for all the Quill-servant bees to pitch their honey into my throat.”

Juna’s laugh was light and refreshing, a marvelous counterpoint to the bubbling fountain. I have missed you, her pipe said quite clearly. “I’m afraid I may bore you while you wait,” her voice said, “I have found myself quite starved for people of intelligent conversation. I may be out of practice.”

“Indeed?” Kasta cocked an eyebrow. “Then we must talk at once, and at length, to strengthen your skills.”

“Indeed we must,” Juna lowered her voice. “Indeed, a most remarkable thing happened not two nights ago.”

Kasta stared at Juna’s pipe. She had lowered it to her lap, her thumb covering the hole. He felt his heart sink.

“His Indomitable Grace,” she continued, “the Grand Duchen Karn Li-Schan, arrived at the Ever Palace not three days past. Of course, upon hearing this, my father extended an invitation to his Indomitable Grace to attend us for dinner.”

“Did his Indomitable Grace accept?”

“A reasonable question,” Juna said, with an odd look on her face. “But there is no answer.”

Kasta frowned. “No answer? Surely, either his Indomitable Grace either accepted or denied the invitation.”

“Indeed, and our missiver recieved neither. They returned with the missive un-accepted. His Indomitable Grace had left the planet just that morning.”

“That morning?” Kasta asked. “Surely, that cannot be correct, can it? No Duke would arrive at the Ever Palace only to leave again in less than two days.”

“So my father thought,” Juna answered. “He is certain there was a mistake, and it was either some proxy who came and left, or that the Grand Duchen had arrived some time ago, and only recently did word reach us.”

“That seems more reasonable,” Kasta nodded.

“After all,” Juna leaned forward, “If not, then the Grand Duchen Karn Schan arrived at the Ever Palace and then left again not a day later. Perhaps more unusual, he would have held not one meeting nor met with any of House Li-Schan during his stay. He would have stayed in his chambers without seeing another soul.”

“Or another soul seeing him,” Kasta pointed out.

“no other soul,” Juna’s mouth twitched, “save any young noble who happened most fortunately to be walking by when she saw the Grand Duchen walk from the Golden Port to the Villa of House Li-Schan.

A servant turned the corner, broom in hand. Upon seeing the two of them, the servant bowed low in apology and vanished again. A clatter of crockery from within the residence broke the calm air. For a moment, neither Kasta nor Juna moved, their breath mingling above the trickling fountain.

Kasta took a deep breath. “Forgive me, my Lady, I find such subjects…arresting. May I beg your indulgence and request that we speak on more pleasant topics.”

“Such as?”

“Such as your eventual wedding,” Kasta forced his voice lighter. “How your father, Proxy and Emissary to Duchen Polaris, might be persuaded to entertain your own choice for a spouse?”

Juna’s eyes glittered. “He remains recalcitrant, as is his wont. He knows I have little value as a bargaining chip, and hopes to use me to solidify his standing among the House.”

“How many have elected to woo you, may I ask?”

“You may not,” Juna gasped. “I find that question in incredibly poor taste, Sir Illibran, and I will thank you to redirect the conversation immediately.” She turned her head as her fingers tapped on her pipe-bowl.

Five, Kasta counted her taps. “Forgive me, Lady Polaris. My curiosity overstepped my manners. May I ask if any of your suitors has caught your eye?”

“Perhaps,” she said, her face still turned away. “I do not see how it is any of your business, however.”

The sounds of House Polaris faded again. Kasta looked about with a casual air. When he was certain there was no one in earshot, he leaned closer, and whispered into her ear; “Within the fortnight, it shall be.”

Juna turned back again, her eyes now filled with delight mixed with astonishment. “Have a care with your words, Sir Illibran,” she whispered.

His heart was racing. “You are my anchor, Lady Porlaris. A welcome lodestar in an uncertain world. You comfort me, soothe my fears and worries for the future. No matter what happens, I know that my feelings for you will always remain. I have made my plans, and within five days I shall make my case to your father to allow me to woo you openly.”

Juna swallowed. “Pretty words. An anchor, am I? A source of comfort like a child’s blanket or drunkard’s cup?” The smell of Juna’s pipe was heady, all leather and pepper.

“I would bend my world about you if I could,” Kasta promised.

Juna’s eyes glinted as she reached out to touch Kasta’s face.

Kasta pulled away.

“Juna?” a voice from the archway broke through the air. “Who are you speaking with?”

“Mother,” Lady Juna stood, gesturing with her pipe, “I am entertaining a Quill-servant from the Hall of Record until father has a chance to speak with him.”

“Lady Polaris,” Kasta bowed low in greeting.

“Ah, yes,” Lady Polaris frowned. “I should have guessed. And should I ask his Honored Grace what he wished to speak with him about, I am certain he would not remember?”

“You know how forgetful father can be,” Juna shrugged.

“Mm.” Lady Polaris turned, her broad dress drifting through the air like feather-down. “Well. I think it best you get about your day, Sir Kasta. Servant of the Ever Palace you may be, but that doesn’t mean I won’t throw you out if I have to.”

“I wouldn’t dream of giving you cause,” Kasta smiled wide. “All the same, time continues to pass, my duties grow nigh, and I fear no matter how I willed it, I could stay no longer. Until our next chance meeting, Lady Juna?”

Juna nodded her head in casual farewell, while her long-necked pipe gently traced her neck in a salacious wink that kept Kasta warm through the rest of the day.