Legends of Belariath
Kitrye
Excerpts about the Sylvan slave "Epiphany" as recorded by Mr. Marcus Thames, Senior Secretary to House Viccur
First Year Entry: Initial Report and Review
The elfling refused to answer questions during interrogation. A frustrated guard struck her hard enough to render her unconscious once more. The guard explained in his report that he was trying to "trigger an epiphany" when he slapped the girl. The Sylvan slave had just recovered from several days of unconsciousness. The guard was reprimanded for mishandling an already damaged slave. Review and report to continue upon healer's approval.
The slave now known as Epiphany has no memory of herself or kinsfolk. The girl's lack of cooperation during initial and subsequent interrogations has now been deemed due to memory loss sustained during the raid rather than deliberate withhold of information. As later reported by Captain Luca, the elfling had been inside the Forest Hall when it collapsed. Several elves inside were crushed to death. A few were killed where they lay, for mercy's sake.
Despite lack of personal memories, the Sylvan slave Epiphany appears to be sound of mind, wit, and body. She speaks her language and common equally well and seems to know at least one of the savage languages.
None of the ladies of the house are in need of a maid and all other domestic positions are filled. My lord has no interest in an elf. As such, Epiphany is now ranked among the common drudges and field hands. Also, Spring planting is about to begin and the fields can always use another hand.
Third Year Entry: Annual Report and Review
The Sylvan slave Epiphany remains listed among the lowest ranking drudges. Despite my lady having several maidservants resign, Epiphany has made no attempts to position herself to serve my landy. In fact, she seems to deliberately misinterpret all but the most specific orders.
Seventh Year Entry: Annual Report and Review
As of eight months back, the Sylvan slave known as Epiphany is the only elf from the Forest Hall Collapse raid on the grounds. Each of the other Sylvans have been periodically found dead, as if they'd simply fallen asleep on the ground, over the years. It's strange to see one of the long lived creatures like that...dead but not dead somehow.
House Viccur note: Today, my lady gave birth to a healthy daughter. Epiphany continues to hold to the lowest ranks of slaves. No effort was made to elevate herself to lady's maid, even to the new infant.
Eleventh Year Entry: Annual Report and Review
The Sylvan slave is to be versed in tailoring. After recovering from my lady's whip when several miniature silk tapestries were found under Epiphany's bed-mat. Apparently, the slave has a natural talent for sewing and had created the pieces herself. Regardless, the slave was whipped again for having stolen the silks and threads from my ladies.
Report Addition: The bruising and swelling from the whippings my lady gave the Sylvan slave Epiphany have finally healed enough to confirm that no permanent damage was done to the muscles of her back and thighs. Unbeknownst to my lord at the time, my lady had tried her hand at using the Overseer's whip to punish the slave for thieving the silks. It is much heavier than my lady's favored whip and my lady hadn't been able to wield it properly. A good thing, too, otherwise the slave would likely not have survived the lashing.
Twenty-third Year Entry: Annual Report and Review
His grace's head footman came to collect his grace's newly embroidered cloak last month. The Sylvan slave Epiphany's skill is becoming more and more popular among the aristocrats. My ladies' gowns and capes have long been admired for the fine detailing; delicate butterflies that seem to flutter on hems, intricate lattice works of vines that appeared to be moving. Now, upper nobility were calling on my lord and lady to have their garments stamped.
I do believe that some of the callers are under the impression that my lady's daughter is responsible for the embroideries.
. . . . .
That would be the last entry by Mr. Marcus Thames. Five months later several border lords had banned together to rid themselves of House Viccur. The lord and lady were beginning to get too close to the upper nobility. There was even rumor that his grace was to propose to the lord and lady's daughter. That simply would not do.
While the halls were splashed with blood and filled with gore, Epiphany ran for the trees that had always called to her. From the protective embrace of an ancient oak, with the whisper of a smile at the corner of her lips, she watched House Viccur burn to the ground.
Kitrye leaned over the small circle of stones surrounding what she hoped would be a fire as soon as her numb hands could get the tinder to catch a spark. Long bangs falling before her strangely-colored amber eyes as she shivered in this thing the surface dweller's called 'Winter'; oh so different it was from her home, the Nethergloom. It's darkness that enwrapped one's soul did not betray her as this cursed sun did, stinging her light sensitive eyes.
A pang of regret hit the small Moriel as she shivered, kneeling in the snow that still fell. Even in the moonlight hurt her eyes. She should never have left home; the even year-round temperature, the never-ending darkness. She missed the intrigue, the danger and even the...Expectations.
Her regret left as quick as it had come. Yes, the assumption that she would be attending those boring classes to become an acolyte, surrounded by first and second born daughters of Kirva's chosen. How they all talked of the "Someday" that was forever on hold it seemed to the young explorer. The days of chanting, of learning the way's of ruling a House of their own one day if not their own Mother's. How their path to success was fraught with violence and deceit, blackmail and subterfuge.
However, Kitrye had not been paying attention as a young girl should. Why should she? Four older daughters meant her chances of ruling her own House were left to an arranged marriage. A creature of action she was, even at that young age. Always exploring the mushroom groves and even going so far as to exit the city to the nearby cavern lake shore and the cliffs surrounding it. Things had eventually become easier as she gotten older, more leniency in her studies involving magic meant she had more free time to explore the new cavern's that she'd discovered.
In time, ditching her magic classes became fairly easy with so many of her age or younger; many did so with a wink and a nod as the Fighter's school was close by and all the males danced about with their pretty weapons to catch the eye of a female and ensure their favor in the future. Even Kitrye had partaken of such on occasion, but soon it was just an excuse to wander outside the City proper, to the outer edges of the Nethergloom as she climbed sheer walls in the eternal darkness. Sometimes not coming back for days.
It was during one of those return trips that she had learned of her impending marriage to a merchant. Her Mother had finally found a way for her youngest daughter to contribute to her House, likely ending her days of aimless wandering, forever. She was to be the leader of a merchant house! the idea was so absurd that it rocked the curious Moriel back on her heels.
It had been that very night that she'd left for the surface...thought her arrival would be eventual. Her wandering of the caverns had provided her with quite a knowledge of how to survive in the deep gloom of her home, if not its society. Oh, her mother's guards had went after her of course, but the youngest daughter of House Gal`Quine was not so easily found, one step ahead of her pursuit. Someday? She'd make someday for the return of the dark elves to rule the surface sooner than expected!
A fierce sneeze returned Kitrye to the here and now, her ass plopping into the newly lain snow, breaching the surface of this freezing precipitation; this season called Winter This mocking joke of long nights as cold as she had ever experienced brought brisk movements of hands on flint and blade that sent showers of sparks to the mostly dry tinder. Oh, come on! a bit of blue moss and stalk shavings of a giant mushroom would have caught by now! Gah!
Finally the fire caught and Kitrye could now start burning the fur off these strange, long-eared, creatures. Maybe they would be edible, this time.