Ecdysis

Roshanak Kamshad Gulnaz

“…Then let us discuss the main reason why we gathered here today.” Roshanak looked at two other Matriarchs and the Speaker of Kosenya. “The Kiymetl.”

It was unfortunate that Roxanna wasn’t here in person, but her presence was critical in the north. Moreover, her arrival — no matter how rushed it was — would have delayed this meeting long enough for it to become useless. As a warrior and a general, Roshanak preferred to act with decisiveness rather than wait for her opponents to grow in strength, especially when said growth was almost unthinkable.

The Speaker’s ears shifted back immediately. “Do you fear the Kiymetl are acting against Emanai?” Mitra Kosenya Adalet had a serious, no-nonsense attitude, common throughout their Manor.

“Or is it your wounded pride speaking out of spite?” the Kishava Matriarch was quick to remind.

The Samat Matriarch remained silent, impatiently tapping on the gold goblet full of wine. Compared to the mighty Kishava, the Samat was a direct competitor to the Kiymetl, especially when it came to trading within the capital. Compared to the concerned Kosenya, they weren't dependent on them to provide sufficient grain for the troops. All of which gave them the reason and desire to see the Kiymetl step down. Their previous history only made it more personal.

“Perhaps, but let us be honest among each other here — Aikerim Adal is known by many names but none of them is ‘stupid’. She might appear coy or humble but that is nothing more but the mask of a hypocrite, donned to pursue her real goals. The recent glass affair did more than fill their coffers — by goading the Esca Envoy to act with rashness, Aikerim wrested control over Kiymetl’s major trading partner. By requesting a personal aqueduct routed to her Manor, she solidified her status even further and subverted the position of Amanzhan Irada as the main contender for the title of a future Matriarch. Yet, despite this success, the current events show that she has no intentions to stop. The affair of steel is-”

“She is the younger daughter of a Matriarch, cousin,” Parusatis Aminah lazily interrupted her. “This is what they do, for it is the task of younger sisters to keep their elders in check.”

“Is it also her task to rob you blind without you even realising it, cousin?” Roshanak swished her tail.

The eyes of the Kishava Matriarch narrowed. “Explain.”

Roshanak snapped her fingers, ordering a nearby slave to refill her cup. “Do you remember the Scourge of the South Sea?”

“What does your aunt have to do with Aikerim Adal?”

“Apart from coming into a great deal of wealth from her daring, yet extremely lucrative naval raids, absolutely nothing. But your Manor should remember her triumphant returns. She didn’t win her battles by being stupid and she knew that gold and gems represented static wealth while fame and glory could be easily forgotten. To make her fortunes last, she needed something else. Something that would see her wealth multiply in perpetuity.”

“Land and slaves.” Kishava Matriarch put her goblet away.

“Land and slaves, indeed. The Scourge of the South Sea was the Boon to the Kishava Manor. The strongest labourers, exotic companion slaves, and the most skilled artisans — all were quickly snatched by her growing Manor. Am I to assume that you are enjoying the same treatment by the rising star of the Kiymetl?”

“It has been a few tendays, Roshanak,” Parusatis said with a sigh. “Are you urging me to act out of impatience?”

Roshanak tasted her wine. “Aikerim Adal had been trying to purchase land for a while. Unfortunately for her, Amanzhan Irada wasn’t granted the role of a Speaker just for being the first daughter and had been quite successful at blocking her attempts. Her sour relationship with the Samat didn’t help her either. The lack of attempts to purchase slaves was somewhat surprising until I received some concerning news.”

Parusatis Kishava Aminah cracked her fingers, vicious eyes sparkling on her friendly-looking face. “Who?”

“The Esca, of course. The word across the sea is that the lamuras are busy collecting slaves in large quantities. Not oarsmen to move their galleys, nor fighters to bolster their forces. Artisans and craftsmen. Children and families to bolster their ranks and secure their loyalty. I am certain that by the time this news reached me there was probably at least one ship sailing toward Samat, filled with future Kiymetl slaves.”

“Control any Manor you can and avoid every other that you cannot.” The Samat Matriarch finally spoke up from her couch, moving the finger across the ridge of her goblet. “Aikerim is only interested in those she can dominate.”

Parusatis Aminah inspected her sharp claws. “I will have my women confirm your words, cousin. But, if what you say is true, I assume you came here with a particular plan in mind?”

Roshanak nodded. “I was planning on inviting the Censor herself to this meeting — to hear what the Goddess and, to some extent, the Shebet would say. Perhaps it is for the best that she is currently unavailable — her twin brother and the Speaker of their Manor has been rather close with the twin moons of Kiymetl.”

Calling the Shebet Matriarch here in person was futile. Daimonas or not, the Chasya twins held the real power within the Manor and while their aunt did a lot of work to maintain day-to-day House activities, she would stall and defer anything too important, lest she runs afoul of her divinely blessed niece or nephew.

“There are four among the seven present here,” Roshanak continued. “That means the Summit of Speakers will listen to our combined voices no matter what the Kiymetl and the Enoch might say and whether or not the Shebet is even present.”

“A soft approach?” The Kishava Matriarch raised her eyebrow, making the Kosenya Speaker shift uneasily on her couch. “I thought you were a bit more disgruntled from that rejection.”

Roshanak scoffed. “I have no desire to tread the path of Esca in this matter. Especially when both Chasya twins have shown interest in her Manor and that ‘Alchemist’ of theirs despite no love between Sophia Chasya and Aikerim Adal. It would also be very shortsighted of me to interrupt the trade between the Kiymetl and the Kosenya. The north walls are worthless without defenders guarding them and they need to eat daily like the rest of us.

“I am a general, Parusatis Aminah. And I know not to blindly chase an enemy that isn’t routed — for there might be ambushes I might not know about. Fortunately for us, the glass affair did reveal her plans to me, no matter how obvious they were, and those plans haven't come to fruition yet.”

A floppy ear slowly lifted up as the Kishava Matriarch smiled. “The coveted place among us.”

“Indeed. Aikerim might be a main contender for the title, but her mother is still alive. And her eldest sister still holds power. I am sure that Amanzhan Irada would be thrilled to know the Pillar majority of Emanai still sees her as the future Matriarch. And react accordingly.”

Parusatis nodded. “A suddenly weakened position will force Aikerim to reconsider her plans, lest the carefully built foundation would crumble below her feet.”

“Unless she has other tricks up her sleeve,” The Samat matriarch crossed her arms. “We are dealing with the mother of Anaise Hilal — one that the Goddess herself deemed worthy to speak to. The Esca’s response is quite suspicious to me as well — a proud clan like them would never bow their heads and curl their tails just because Aikerim has tough glass and mirrors.”

“Yes, political pressure alone won’t be enough, especially with the sudden influx of the blade steel and strange weapons within the Kiymetl,” Roshanak easily agreed. “But we can play her game as well. Aikerim Adal has been careful not to reveal too much but rumours of the daimonic presence are spreading. Perhaps the public could be a bit more ‘concerned’ about the nature of said ‘daimon’, especially if it is a murk? If Aikerim Adal was truly blessed by Gods, where is a blessed Spark? Perhaps her Manor needs a little bit more oversight to make sure nothing untoward is happening within those walls. A mature hand to guide them past excesses of youth.”

The wersheep smiled. “Especially with the black smoke coming from within her Manor. I have a few eyes and noses around and many report the brimstone smell. As the caretaker of the capital, I can’t allow anyone to summon a volcano within my borders, even if it lets her craft weapons with ease!”

Roshanak glanced at the Kosenya Speaker and Mitra Adalet nodded. “As long as the Kiymetl as a whole remains healthy. Nanaya Kiymetl Ayda had been generous in her grain shipments and my mother would not accept any disruptions. Aikerim Adal’s actions are… concerning indeed. If she is already treating two Houses of War in such a way…”

“The Kosenya will likely receive the same treatment once she takes the reins, I agree.” Roshanak completed her thought. “I believe we are in agreement, then.”

She lifted up her cup in a toast and waited for the other three to join her. “To the fruitful coalition.”

 

Aikerim Kiymetl Adal

 

“Thank you, Sulla,” she quietly dismissed her attendant and re-focused on Yeva’s lecture with a sigh.

The word was back on the streets, encouraging Dominas to sell their land ‘elsewhere’, while the slow progress inroads with her elder sister stalled once again. New players had entered the game: either the Kishava or the Kamshad themselves. Or both for that matter — Erf’s stipulations on slavery and ‘freeloading’ husbands made the growing tensions not just likely but inevitable. Nevertheless, Aikerim still felt the pang of loss in her heart — a few more tendays of peace would’ve solidified her current position enough to purchase land without any significant oversight.

Now she was thrown back to the pre-Feast days, carefully measuring her steps and planning her moves. Well, not quite. There was no longer an imminent danger of Erf being claimed by the Goddess and her influence had grown substantially since then.

Nevertheless, the new players were acting bold enough to warrant caution on her part. Aikerim wasn’t afraid; rather, she was annoyed . All these dances and overtures, all these plays were performed to obtain the source of her newfound power. Her daimon. Whether those players knew it or not, they sought out Erf. As his master, Domina, and mother-in-law, Aikerim Adal was already far ahead of everyone trying.

All she had to do was not lose.

Well, a few additional wins wouldn’t go amiss either. The question was how.

Her fingers played absentmindedly with the trinkets that Yeva previously provided. His wife was busy explaining the so-called ‘thermal expansion’ to Isra, Wrena, and Shahin and she used plenty of props to showcase its actions. Things like two bound strips of different metals where the difference in their expansion rate would force the whole thing to bend and curl, allowing one to tell how hot something was with great precision.

Looking at a visibly twitching Isra Haleh, the master smith had already came up with a plethora of ways to use that knowledge and was eager to leave the lecture and start working. Shahin Esca was in an equally contemplative mood, bolstered by the steaming mug of kava cradled in her hands, as Yeva made it perfectly clear that said expansion was the root cause of glass strength or weakness.

Unfortunately for Aikerim, these new revelations weren’t immediately helpful in tackling the new problems. She knew this knowledge was critical for current and future projects — even Wrena was quick enough to realise that those fluctuations in size would hinder further advances in precision. That meant better machines, more refined products, and eventual profits. ‘Eventual’ was the key word here.

But not everything followed this slow but inevitable improvement. Aikerim pulled the hems of her kaftan apart and glanced down on her chest — there was a new layer of ‘cloth’ there, covered by the customary silken tunic. The black wood of the nurturing tree felt soft to the touch and pleasant on her skin. It was also extremely durable and highly susceptible to Kiymetl spells. An additional layer of protection for a stray Collector’s blade and a convenient source of material if she were to require a sword.

The reward of her daughter’s honesty.

“Perhaps it is best to end the lecture here for now,” Domina spoke up from her couch. “I am sure that Isra Haleh is eager to try out new designs.”

“Oh don’t mind me,” the master smith was quick to interject. “I do wish to learn more!”

Yeva paused for a moment but shook her head. “Domina is right. I would prefer to make sure you understand the concepts rather than merely know them and a little bit of practical work would greatly assist you in that. Tinker around with trinkets, make your own, and let the fog of knowledge settle into the dew of comprehension within your mind, making it easier to travel ahead. Make bigger bi-metal strips and see if you can craft working thermometers for furnaces, forges, and kilns.”

Isra Haleh nodded and took off, followed by Wrena Khayrat. Shahin Esca idled for a moment, giving Aikerim a questioning gaze but Domina shook her head. The former envoy knew her ways around intrigue, but she had a different conversation in mind at this moment.

“You wished to speak with me?” Yeva tilted her head once they were alone.

Aikerim smiled and shook her head. “I am. Let us take another walk.”

She found herself missing Erf stumbling through his conversations. While Yeva was reserved and methodical, choosing to remain silent unless she was certain what needed to be said, Erf had that bubbling energy barely contained within himself. Always eager to spill over and shower her with new inventions and gifts. Aikerim was certain that if he’d stayed behind, there would be dynamos everywhere, shooting lightning back and forth.

“Forgive me for not transitioning to electricity,” Yeva correctly guessed her thoughts, “but there is a necessary foundation that needs to be built first. We are approaching technology that demands respect and I would be remiss of my duties if I let either Isra or Wrena die or get heavily injured simply because they didn’t know some crucial detail.”

“Do not worry.” Aikerim swished her tail in a soothing gesture. “I could feel your intent throughout the lecture as you introduced a new method of measuring the unknown and advanced earlier techniques at the same time. I was just amusing myself by thinking how different Erf’s approach would be.”

Yeva pondered as she walked. “Well, for starters, there will be new toilets by now.”

A snort managed to escape her lips before Aikerim could control herself. “Thank you for that reminder, Yeva. I managed to completely forget that fascination of his. Now I know I made the right choice by leaving you, not him, behind.”

The girl smiled in response. “There is a certain merit in his desires.”

“You too!?”

“It makes more sense if you understand that it is designed to physically trap the foul odours. If it is constructed properly, said rooms wouldn’t even need fragrant herbs on the walls to make them acceptable. Once you have that, there are no other barriers preventing them from being conveniently placed closer to bedrooms and other rooms where people tend to gather often.”

She eyed the murk daimon suspiciously. “Are you making those now?”

Yeva giggled. “Not yet. The infrastructure is still incomplete to make their construction appropriate at this time.”

“The below-structure?” Aikerim tried the new word. “Are you talking about the sewer tunnels? I was informed that Samat had built them properly.”

“The Samat sewers are well-made, indeed, but the estate needs a network of pipes to most buildings, whether to take waste away or vent foul gases building up underground. Since I hate using lead pipes in general and copper is too useful elsewhere, Keivan is currently making ceramic pipe sections. They are strong enough to last for a while and won’t corrode and rot from within. Moreover, there needs to be a separate network to bring clean water in, but I will use trees to make pipes for that.”

“What is wrong with the current system?”

“Aqueduct water is fresh, but it is only water from a stream rerouted into the city. It needs to move or it will quickly bloom and become undrinkable. The fountains we have in the kitchens, the rest of the Manor, and across the entirety of Samat are a necessity of that design. This system works, but it is very water-inefficient. The aqueduct alone will become unsustainable rather quickly with our new technologies, especially when steam engines start to take their toll.”

“You aren’t planning on boiling the water, are you?” Aikerim frowned. The Samat was starting to grumble about the smoke coming out of her Manor, despite multiple other furnaces working across Samat as well as the stench of waste, rot, and fish on the streets of the lower city. She was planning to avoid the confrontation for as long as possible, not to provoke them further.

“That would be too excessive, yes. The water doesn’t need to be stored forever, just longer than it currently can. A few good filters should give us that for now. Once that is in place, we will have an on-demand water supply where it is used as needed and not spent continuously.”

Aikerim sighed, seeing one of the secluded workshops they were approaching. “Well, you seem to have thought it out well in advance. I hope that you can show me the results soon, but the future might be a little bit more hectic now.”

Yeva paused and looked at Domina with a silent question on her face.

“The other Pillars decided that they have waited long enough after Anaise’s departure and are rousing once again. I do not know the path that they will take, but my Manor can already feel their attention.”

“Should I speed up the armour production? Ask Isra to start making brigandines?”

“Of course not.” Aikerim rolled her eyes.

Yeva gripped the door, making the wood groan. “But what if they ignore the Divine decree?”

“Yeva, calm down.” Domina placed her hand on Yeva’s shoulder. “No one will be attacking this Manor. Not just because Gods said so. Not because I come from one of the Seven Houses. They will not attack because this is a Pillar Manor. I have training grounds here where guards for my caravans train: slaves, as well as wer and wermage members of the Kiymetl. There are multiple wermages of my immediate family living here, most of whom have experience in magical warfare.

“A direct assault on this Manor might eventually overwhelm my defences, but it will leave Samat in ruins while doing so. And that is assuming no other Manor comes to our aid. Kiymetl or otherwise. We are talking about burning rubble and piles of dead all over the place. Even the Samat Manor themselves will forget about past grievances and do everything in their power to stop that.”

“I…” Yeva shook her head and sighed. “Yes, of course. Forgive my outburst.”

“I understand where you are coming from. The threat of sudden violence is common among slaves of lesser masters and one is left relying on the nature of the other to stay safe. I am certain that even small Dominas on the outskirts of Emanai might have similar thoughts to yours. For there are too few defenders and not enough onlookers nearby. But law exists across the land-between-mountains and the Seven are here to enforce it. If the Seven Pillars themselves begin to fear for their safety that means the law is gone from this land. Then Gods will interfere.”

Aikerim patted her shoulder and led her inside the building. “Your way of thinking is sound, but this is not the way of Pillar Manors.”

“Right…So what course of action are we taking?” Yeva looked back at Domina with a serious expression on her face.

“Plan ahead, prepare, and make sure that our supply routes stay secure. What would your current and future projects require? Assume that any land purchases will be delayed and Manor expansions are off the table for the foreseeable future.”

Yeva grimaced. “The estate is big but not infinite. How tall are we allowed to build?”

“What do you mean allowed? I am no architect to tell you when a building is too tall to stand.”

“I meant allowed by traditions.” Yeva pointed in the general direction of the Landing Altar. “I assume many would frown if you have a tower in your Manor that is taller than the floating Pillars themselves.”

“Right…” Aikerim scratched her ear. “Erf talk has begun. Let us stick with something…conservative. Nothing taller than the walls of this Manor.”

“So up to three floors, well probably two to accommodate every body type present in the Manor. Lamuras and Minotaurs are rather tall. Can we dig below?”

“Yes. Just don’t breach the underworld.”

“Well, we are limited by ventilation and drainage anyway.” Yeva let that sarcasm fly over her head. “But some excavation might provide us with rock and gravel for other projects. What about the other estates that you possess?”

Aikerim waved her tail. “I would prefer to keep… the new machines within this Manor for now. While I trust my farm heads to run everyday tasks, I am not so keen on letting them handle things that the rest of the Kiymetl Manor doesn’t know about. Moreover, the increased traffic between estates could attract quite a few curious eyes and hands.”

“Fair enough. We can store bulk cargo there, however. It is no longer a secret that your Manor is looking for raw resources. What about the lands that no one cares about? While the northern steppe is too far from here, the slopes of the Babr Mountains seem rather desolate. Even the areas close to the South Sea. It would be easy to ship-”

Aikerim started to shake her head even before Yeva finished her sentence. “That is where I gain a lot of my wool from. While the land is too barren to be arable, there are plenty of sheep in nearby Manors. Now that we have Pillar Houses interfering, it would be very hard for me to purchase land near my sources of wealth.”

“Well, I think Erf has managed to acquire some.”

Aikerim blinked. “He did what? How?”

“Albin.” Yeva shrugged as if one word was almost good enough to explain everything. “Apparently, Erf got a promise of a land title on the slopes of the Babr Mountains when they were playing the guitar together. After he finishes his military service, that is.”

Aikerim grabbed her ears and tugged them down. “I swear those two will make my hair silver within a season. I didn’t even want to imagine the Shebet Speaker playing Erf’s guitar, yet you made me do it! What did he ask for that land?”

“Steel spoons and knives, mostly. Ones that would not rust.”

“If that wasn’t Erf and Albin damned Chasya, I would’ve assumed that both of them were drunk. Or you were drunk to tell me. Or I was, for hearing something this inane.” Domina let go of her ears and took a few calming breaths. “Forget this, Aikerim. We have a Shebet Speaker on our side… and that is… good? Good. Yes. Let us move on — none of those promises would matter in the short term anyway. What about raw resources? I assume we still need steel?”

“Steel and copper are both critical. We can improve the quality ourselves, however. Concrete for the buildings and foundations. Everything else that we were already purchasing should continue as well.”

“So the only two new things are copper and concrete? Volcanic ash might take some time to arrive.”

“That is not necessary. A cheaper concrete might last less than fifty years but we aren’t building monuments to eternity here. Even if we are still stuck within the walls of this Manor after fifty years, the buildings will need to be upgraded anyway. Limestone and gypsum would suffice.”

“Well, as long as the buildings won’t collapse while they are in use.”

Yeva smirked. “I didn’t say they would be flimsy. Even after fifty years, those buildings would be more sound than most of the slum houses I witnessed in the cheaper parts of Samat. I just have standards.”

“That you do,” Aikerim chuckled. “You have been talking about nothing but standards in your recent lectures.”

Yeva coughed. “There is still the last piece missing if you wish to speed up the current pace. People.”

Domina pressed her lips thin. “Slaves are coming from my farms and across the sea, but recruiting from the Samat population would have to wait. There is a need for additional vetting in the current situation and I simply do not have the people suited for that. We are also likely to end up with a crowd of beggars at my gates crying day and night once word spreads about the ‘generous’ Domina. I can’t let that happen.”

The murk girl grimaced. “And we can’t accept them all due to land and food constraints. In addition to potentially taking in disguised spies and Collectors.”

“There is another way, however. Dock workers and petty traders. While many are beholden either to us, the Samat, or the Kishava, most are still independent and hire workers daily from the available crowd. We can probably set up a system through them to invite promising individuals to our side. While not perfect by any means, it can act as a barrier between my Manor and the horde of hopefuls. It would take additional time to ensure the honesty of my suppliers.”

“The fact that you, a Domina, are thinking about this already makes me grateful.” Yeva bowed to her. “I am sure that most wouldn’t even bother to come up with alternatives in this situation, and yet you did. Yes, such recruiting agencies might work well for us far into the future.”

“I am not stupid, Yeva.” Aikerim chuckled. “The Pillar Manors stir because they sense the unnatural presence; the hidden power that keeps multiplying my wealth over and over with no end in sight. They don’t care about me. They don’t care about my wealth, current or previous. They want that hidden power for themselves.

“They want Erf, Yeva. And with your new knowledge,” Aikerim reached out and poked Yeva with her finger, “they will want you too.

“It is given that I will prioritise both of you, even if that might hinder my chances at becoming the Matriarch of Kiymetl.”

Yeva stared down at the finger on her chest for a while before reaching out and taking it into her hand. “You wish to become a Matriarch?”

Aikerim smiled. “Every chick dreams of being a falcon.”

Fingers squeezed her hand. “Then you will be.”

“My, I hope you aren’t planning anything untoward about my mother, are you?”

Yeva shook her head. “Don’t need to. Don’t have to.”

“Just play the infinite game? Try not to lose?”

“We will spice up the game a little bit.” Yeva smiled and let go of Aikerim’s hand. “I’ve brought you here rather than to the greenhouse for a reason. While Isra is busy working on the steam engine, I had Wrena prepare a new machine for me. Something to assist me with the large influx of workers in the coming days.

Aikerim glanced around and quickly noticed something covered by a canvas cloth. “That?”

“Yes.”

Domina waved her hand, sending the cloth away, only to frown at what she saw. “Is that… a press?”

“It is. But not for olives. Rather than pressing seeds into oil, it will press letters on paper, quickly creating multiple copies of a specific page. I was planning on mass-producing small virtana codices so that every illiterate slave could have a copy and quickly learn how to read and possibly write.”

Aikerim licked her lips. “It could press any codex?”

Codices were expensive for a reason.

“As long as it is something that can be drawn on a parchment with a quill.”

“And, once they all can read, you can press the codex on numbers and teach them how to count.” She walked over and picked up a small piece of metal “Is that… a letter?”

“It doesn’t have to be numbers. We could design a manual on how to operate a loom or a lathe and train workers by a dozen rather than one by one. What you are holding is called a type — an inverted letter stamp that can print a proper letter when pressed onto paper when stained with ink. While it still takes time to set all those types into sentences and blocks of text, even typesetting a single codex takes less time than writing one with a quill. Considering that you can print hundreds with each typeset… you can imagine the productivity increase.”

“Not yet, I cannot. I will need to see it in action.” Aikerim licked her lips once again, they were getting dry. “But I can appreciate how anything you create somehow just fits with everything that was created prior. Was Erf thinking about this when he created the paper? Or when his tree started making inks and dyes?”

“Absolutely. Because we are limited in what we can create with the tools that we have. The impact of this press would not be as powerful if we lacked a proper and cheap medium to print upon. But this is more than what you see, Domina. What you see is a weapon.”

Aikerim frowned. “It can print runes?”

“Er…you know what? It probably could, but I wasn’t being literal here. A printed word is a weapon of information rather than force. You can print thousands of papers teaching people how to read or you can print thousands of pamphlets to spread a particular knowledge among the literate masses. You can cast your ideas and dreams far and wide and catch many like-minded thinkers with great ease. Ones who will gladly bolster your ranks. Ones who will fight for your cause. And ones who will die for it too.”

Yeva walked around the frozen Domina. “Before, I had my concerns about whether to tell you this or not, even when Erf had put his trust in you. But your actions so far speak true of your name, Aikerim the Just. Consider this as the proof that you will be Matriarch. Whether you will take the seat of your mother or forge the eighth Pillar — I don’t care — you will be one.

“Because even the sharpest sword in the world can’t cut an idea apart.

“And now you will become a general of ideas. Whoever stands against us won’t have the faintest chance in the world.”