Jii’Hssen Ssyii watched her nieces and sister leave her terrace; the moment they left, she heaved a sigh. The day had gone very nearly as wrong as was possible, and it was Issa’s fault for losing control.
But… she couldn’t blame the girl—wouldn’t blame her. Ssyii bounced between blaming Lyantii and Tyaniis, coiling alone at the table, staring at the closed tome and empty plates that had been left in the chaos. Eventually, she settled on blaming herself.
The Jii’Hssen tried to relax, shoulders slumping. She stared down at her hands—all four of them. Her head felt heavy, and she tried to shut out the sight granted to her by Jaezotl’s blessing, to stare only down at the polished stone of the table.
But… she couldn’t. Surrounding her were damaged plants and scuffs on the floor. A big open space, chilling quickly in the evening air. Ssyii shivered.
All this power. How easy it would be to—no. She wouldn’t abuse her position. Wouldn’t stoop so low as to follow in her sire’s wake. But… why was this so hard? Why couldn’t this power help her?
Zaiia coveted it. Not just the position, but the power. She’d aligned herself with ussen looking to reduce the power of the Emerald Throne, after all. That much was obvious, open even. Now, it was open that Zaiia wanted to remove her—that she would take risks to do so.
And Tyaniis had uncovered more sinister ties. How deep such dark forces penetrated, Ssyii didn’t know. But she did know that Zaiia had to be at least aware that worship and power derived from a formless, mindless entity with nearly the power of a god was spreading amongst the decentralists and malcontents alike. And aware that Issa had shown her curse.
As much as Ssyii was relieved that they’d not come to blows, miraculously, she had wished for violence. Had Zaiia attacked her or her nieces, she could have solved that problem—no.
Ssyii remembered lazy afternoons in the courtyard. Her, Tyaniis, Zaiia, and Lassani. Four sisters—half or not. Innocent children.
She had such a wonderful smile…
How did all this go so wrong?
How did the weakest, the smallest, the most passive, the worst student… how did she get the throne?
Why did Tyaniis, in her last act as heir apparent, push her into this role? She didn’t…
She had to. Jii’Kalaga needed her. Her family needed her, Zaiia included.
The Jii’Hssen blinked and pushed herself up from the table she’d fallen over. Her eyes were wet with tears, and her claws had scratched furrows into the stone. Look at me, Ssyii thought. What a mess. I couldn’t solve tonight, and I’m sitting her wallowing in my own pity instead of doing what I must.
Shaking, Jii’Hssen Ssyii looked out over the confluence of rivers: a symbol of unity not reflected in the realities of the empire she and the Jii’Ssyri led. She wanted to change that, remove barriers for elves and allow immigration of humans from afar.
So far, she’d gotten the latter—in a limited capacity. And even then, only because of the influx of refugees from the humans’ own dying empire.
She wasn’t sure she could do more. Not just for a lack of power to her position in the reality of the Empire, but her own capabilities. But she had to try, like she’d been trying, struggling to make progress.
What Ssyii wouldn’t give to be acting in support of Jii’Hssen Tyaniis, to indulge in her art again instead of staring at a blank canvas any time she had a few moments spare and only feeling less inspired. The Jii’Hssen drew herself up and uncoiled from her position at the table, turning away from the view and its fading evening colors. Already, the stars were out, far away and peacefully twinkling.
She ran her fingers across leaves as she passed, and dipped the tip of her tail in the burbling fountain, its water from the most holy of rivers. She called for no servants as she slithered through the complex passages of the Emerald Palace.
Tired mind wanting sleep, Ssyii forced herself to think. Thought beget action; or it could at any rate. Tonight, she would ensure the silence of the taaniir. She would speak to Lyantii and discuss what could be done with Zaiia, and she would visit Tyaniis in the morrow, once her sister had the time she needed with her daughters.
First then, she needed to talk to Zaiia. The half-sister she once called friend would be in her quarters—it was unlike her to defy such an order. Seething or not, the Zaiia she knew would not show such open contempt as to violate the Jii’Hssen’s orders.
Hadn’t she done just that earlier today…
Ssyii tried to shake the thought away. No, the Zaiia she knew was still there—somewhere. Buried under pain and justified resentment. The one thing Ssyii had always been good at, empathy, was what she would rely on tonight.
Soon enough, the Jii’Hssen found herself at the closed door leading to Zaiia’s chambers. Lyantii was coiled by the door, and the utaan inclined her head at the monarch.
“Ssyrin Jii’Hssen.” Lyantii dipped a little—as much respect as one standing at attention could show.
The sight relieved Ssyii, and she schooled her expression toward neutrality from the frown she’d surely been wearing. “Utaan Lyantii. I wish to speak with my half-sister.”
Lyantii’s brows rose, but the utaan simply said, “If you wish so, Ssyrin Jii’Hssen.”
Ssyii paused at the door. “You may speak your mind, Utaan.”
“I… merely wondered if seeing Zaiia at this moment would be wise, Ssyrin Jii’Hssen.”
Jii’Hssen Ssyii closed her eyes—the ones she could. “Perhaps not. But I know I will not sleep unless I do so.”
“Very well then.”
“Half-Sister Zaiia, I’m coming in. I must speak with you.” Ssyii took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Inside, the hall was unlit, and the Jii’Hssen saw it only in shades of gray.
Gray save for a sliver of flickering light coming into the hall from under the door to Zaiia’s study.
Jii’Hssen Ssyii slithered closer, and raised her hand to knock.
“Come in,” Zaiia said tiredly, causing Ssyii to jolt.
I am the Jii’Hssen. Why am I acting like a timid child?
Without responding, Ssyii entered the room. Coiled up, with lit candles on a nearby table, Hssen Zaiia was reading from a well-worn tome.
Ssyii coiled across from her, in the other worn-looking space. “Sister,” she started, “what has happened to you?”
Zaiia smiled as she closed the tome and set it aside, but there was no warmth in the expression. “I grew older and learned of the world, Half-Sister.”
Ssyii set her jaw. “As did I, Sister. What I wish to understand is how we’ve grown so far apart these short few decades.”
“That,” Zaiia answered, the smile growing even colder as it spread to her fangs, “is something I’ve long wondered as well.”
“Zaiia, I don’t want us to be opponents. And… it feels like our differences are greater than just matters of policy.”
Zaiia cocked her head to one side, smile vanishing. “Why?”
Ssyii blinked. “Because I want to believe you’re better than your actions tonight. That you still—”
“Why are you still so childish!” Zaiia hissed, clenched knuckles paling. “How? How could someone like you, someone so incredibly divorced from reality—how could you be Jii’Hssen!?”
Ssyii recoiled as if struck.
“Like that! Where is your presence, half-sister? The blessing is wasted on you. We’re done here.”
Jii’Hssen Ssyii sucked in a deep breath, glaring at the dismissive wave Zaiia threw at her. “No.” The word left her mouth before she realized it, and she drew up, partially out of her coil, hair hissing. She pointed a single, clawed finger at her half-sister, and Zaiia’s eyes went wide. “We are going to talk about why you did what you did today, and you will treat today’s events with the utmost discretion.
“Now.” Ssyii slid forward until her face was a handsbreadth from Zaiia’s. “Shall we begin?”
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