Facing the GallowsIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | PreGameLogs | Facing the Gallows Participants: Amba (Split from Healing Wounds) As Amba left Lord Torren's lab- and Helena- behind, the first obstacle that presented itself was that Amba had no idea where to find her. The second quickly followed- the fact that Amba had no idea of where she was. Fortunately, both quickly resolved themselves as she found someone in the halls, who directed her to a location apparently not distant in spatial terms- but very distant in terms of design. She headed in the direction she had been sent, hoping - and dreading - that soon enough she would find Helena's mother. She passed through great booklined studies, rooms of imposing learning. By and by she saw through a long, diamond paned window a small green garden, with a dove cote where white doves were roosting. Standing in the middle of the grass was a lady, dressed in green, her long red hair looped back with a single gold thread. She was talking soothingly to a dove and caressing its white breast, her back towards the window where Amba was standing - yet Amba was suddenly certain that the woman knew that she was there. As Amba took note of the window, she approached, and saw that further along the wall, near a table where an old man was reading, there seemed to be a door open to the garden. Continuing to the door, Amba greeted the old man with a nod as she stepped through the portal into the garden. Drawing closer to Helena's mother, Amba waited just outside of arm's length to be noticed. Fiona held the bird in her hands for a moment longer, close to her face as though she were talking to it. Then, with a little toss of her hands she released it, and it fluttered to a nearby perch where it settled itself to preen and smooth its feathers. Fiona turned and surveyed Amba, her face tranquil. "How is my daughter?" she asked. "Lord Torren sent me to tell you that the wound was not as bad as you had feared," Amba said dutifully, if tentatively. "The blade was not magicked, and I believe that he was preparing to heal it as I left." Was there the faintest suggestion that somewhere behind that calm face, something relaxed? If so, it was almost imperceptible. "Thank you for telling me," said Fiona. "You are her duelling partner, aren't you? And you won, Torren told me?" Amba nodded her head in agreement, studying Fiona from a different light. She moved away to a bench and seated herself. "Come and sit with me," she said invitingly, and tell me all about it." This was certainly not the Princess Fiona that Amba had ever inferred that she would meet. But then again, it is too often the case that people vilify whom they fear- and a former Amberite is surely someone that would be feared in the Courts. Amba began to relax- if only slightly- as she sat on the bench beside Helena's mother. "When Helena was stricken from the fields, her opponent called upon a rule that I had never heard of before- apparently it is quite obscure, and noone really uses it from what I gathered. It was basically an all-or-nothing gambit. I suppose I could have chosen not to take the challenge, but if he had vendetta against Helena, I couldn't really not accept it. And besides, I was more than a little sure that he had hurt Helena on purpose." "He had the choice of weapons, and chose the dray. He was really good with it, where I've never been able to use it as anything other than a mundane weapon. I knew that I was better than he was in general, but with the reach his mastery of the weapon gave him, there was no way to get close enough to remove his advantage." She said this all matter-of-factly, with no inflated opinion of her skills, nor any devaluation of her opponents'. "He made a mistake. Only a slight one, but enough to be exploited. He tried the same tack that he had used on Helena- he tried to get me angry." She shrugged. "Unfortunately, on some level I succumbed- I could have easily taken him down at that point without use of the dray, but I used it full force, able to summon the energy and shattering his jaw at the very least." She looked down as she finished. "So yes, I won." But her tone didn't seem like the triumphant one of someone who had defeated a superior opponent at his own game. "And how did he make Helena angry?" asked Fiona, with the accuracy of one who always hits the nail on the head, no matter whose fingers are in the way. Amba winced even moreso than at her own failing, even if the outward expression was only a moue of distaste. "He commented on her lineage, and when that didn't get a response he ... ridiculed her shapeshifting abilities." Seeing now that Helena's mother would probably continue to probe, Amba sighed and tried to minimize the damage of the rest of it. "I don't think it was anger that was her downfall," she said frankly. "The kick she attempted to use, while unnecessary, was executed flawlessly, and would have still won her the match, if Crygst had not utilized his 'unconventional' move. I even attempted it on him later to bear this theory out." And she was glad that she had. "It was pride. She wanted to finish him off in a flamboyant manner, and a sweep is anything but. If she had swept his weak leg, she could have stood off and extended her blade for his surrender. But she wanted to hurt him." Though she knew her analysis was correct, Amba still felt terribly about saying it- she had only taken note so she could keep Helena from the same mistake- not to tell her mother. She looked down, finishing, "I don't think that would happen in a real fight." "No," said Fiona. "In a real fight, one does not allow for social niceties. A mistake that Chaosians have only slowly learned to correct - have you ever heard the story of how my brother killed Lord Borel? One part of Chaos holds it up as an example of Amberite duplicity and barbarism; another has used the episode to revere Corwin as a god. The most intelligent section of all, of course, have learned from his example while despising what he did. A pleasing contradiction that I find characteristic of Chaos." Amba found herself nodding at Fiona's words. "Baroness Heldt feels a mixture of what you say, from talking to her. Prince Corwin hadn't come here for a fight- that much is obvious in any telling- but Lord Borel challenged him anyway." "Who would expect that someone who wasn't party to your challenge would fight fairly?" she asked rhetorically. "But with Crygst, it was different. He challenged us. And when he couldn't defeat Helena under the rules that had been set, he changed them." She shrugged, looking down. "Then again, my guardian would have said that any time you face someone with steel in your hand it's a real fight, and you're a fool if you treat it as anything but." Fiona turned her head and looked at Amba thoughtfully. "Yes," she said. "I've heard that said before. By someone who was anything but a fool." Amba could tell that Fiona was looking at her, and so was hesitant to raise her eyes to meet those of this princess of Amber. But after a while in the silence, she finally did, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She forced herself to stop. "I'm sure Helena will be done soon," she said at last. "Did you need anything else?" Fiona smiled. "Infinitely more. But I don't think it lies in your power to grant, does it, child? Come. You're tired from the game. You need to refresh yourself - and then we'll visit Helena together." One finely arched eyebrow lifted. "Even a shapeshifter benefits from the application of hot water and some scented soap, I understand. Or so Lord Torren claims when we visit the hot rocks." Amba smiled in return. "Thank you, very much," she said gratitude in her voice. As the adrenaline began to wear off, she was aware of many bruises and aches where Crygst had taken his pound of flesh in return for her victory. "If you don't mind me saying," she continued as they rose from the bench, "you are a lot different than I had been led to expect." "Of course that's no fault of anyone but myself," she said honestly. "I should have known that you would be vilified in the Courts. How do you do it?" she asked, looking toward Helena's mother. "Survive, I mean, in such a hostile environment?" Fiona had turned and was walking with her along a garden path that suddenly seemed to stretch far longer than the length of the garden itself. "I am the defeated captive, crushed and broken by my triumphant enemies. In all things I obey the Lord of Chaos they have set over me ... " There seemed to be the faintest curve to her lips, although her words were mild enough. Somehow they were walking in a cave now, with slick grey walls, and the atmosphere was becoming a little steamy. "You might want to disrobe," said Fiona. As she did so unabashedly, she quickly took stock of the bruises that the match had left on her body. "I said I wouldn't believe their fairy tales," she rejoined with uncharacteristic forwardness, "not that I would believe yours in their stead." After stretching, she stepped forward with the princess, continuing. "It just seemed that you should be less well adjusted than Helena and I- not more. And it puzzled me." She shrugged, unable to articulate what she felt in any other words, but hoping that Fiona would answer all the same. Fiona laughed. "Is it so surprising that so many centuries have at least taught me to adjust to whatever circumstances I find myself in?" she asked. She moved forward and Amba could see, through the steam, that they were approaching an area of pools and small waterfalls, with exotic blooms all around. The only unusual thing about this idyll was that the water was steaming. "I suppose it shouldn't be," Amba said, no mirth in her voice. "I just wish that I could accept things as they are with such grace," she said matter-of-factly as she carefully followed Fiona, taking in the wonders of the environment. "I could teach you," said Fiona, "although the experience would not be ... without pain. Amba looked away for a moment, then as she looked back, there was no hesitation or fear in her gaze. "Life is pain," she said simply. Then with an uncharacteristic dark chuckle and twist of her lips, she added, "Anyone who says otherwise is selling something." "And selling it badly too," said Fiona. "The trick is not to deny the pain built to make it ... desirable." "And you would need to wish to learn." "It's not about want," she said, "it's about need. I need to learn. And if you will teach me, I will." "It is also," said Fiona, "about what you wish to learn ... " She looked at Amba. "Only simply what you seem to be best at," she said, not flinching from her gaze. "Not the mysteries that you are privy to that people seem to fear you for, but for that more precious of gifts- survival." Fiona turned and gazed at her - and in her eyes was something dark, and unfathomable. "I wish I knew," she said softly. "All that I can teach is ... endurance." Amba's look mirrored Fiona's in some painfully unknowable way. "Aren't they the same?" she asked rhetorically. Finally, she looked away. "I will learn whatever you will teach," she said simply.
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