Dutiful Daughter (Sithani, Sharre)

Sharre Molana takes breakfast in her luxurious sun room at or around noon when she wakes. She enjoys the safe space of the little windowed room where her husband never steps, and basking in the sun's warm rays that filter through the windows which surround and cover her from all sides. This morning she wears a silken sleep mask over her eyes as she reclines in her finest chair, the black material blotting out the bright summer light.

She is probably, Sithani judges from the sleep mask and the liquid breakfast on the table before her, hung over from drinking the night beforehand. She also has a suck mark on her neck which wasn't there the day before and which her makeup is failing to completely cover. Presumably, Mother has been having her fun.

"Sithi, is that you?" she asks as Sithani enters the room, turning her head slightly towards the sound. "Good. I told Erdus to send you down. Have you eaten yet? I still think you look too thin since that resurrection. We should have taken you to the Sehanine clerics; they know what they're doing. Your father insisted on taking you to the clerics of Kord over my objections." Sharre's sometimes-affectation of referring to Maryk as Sithani's father, despite everyone knowing full well he is not, continues strong today as she lightly airs her new favorite old grievance.

"Perhaps half my food's going as a sacrifice," Sithani jokes, sitting down and helping herself to a slice of melon. "I suppose Kord deserves something for raising someone like me." She performs an approximation of a blessing over the handful of grapes she takes next before her eyes flit to her mother's love bite. "Were they anyone I'm likely to run into?"

"Hmm?" Sharre sips at her juice--which, to Sithani's nose, smells only lightly spiked--and turns her head lazily in the direction of her daughter's voice. "Oh! Now, dear, you know I never kiss and tell. Discretion. It's what I've tried to teach you. If you hadn't gone overboard with that dreadful party--"

She sighs and stops mid-scold, shaking her head. "No, I'm sorry. It isn't fair of me. But you did worry me, darling. I'm so glad we were able to bring you back." She lifts her sleep mask, squinting against the sun, and offers Sithani a warm smile. "And you've promised to be more careful in the future, so that's all right. The hardest lessons learned are the best ones. Do have some of the berries with cream, sweetheart. I don't think my stomach can handle cream right now, but you need nourishment."

Letting her sleep mask settle back into place, she relaxes in her chair. "Ah, which reminds me. I've found a job for you, dear. A real one, and proper for a young lady of your station. Aren't you pleased?"

"I must admit, that came sooner than I expected." Sithani smiles, nibbling at the suggested berries. "Thank you for not letting Maryk hold it over my head for longer." She pulls a face. "Please tell me it's something for the city; I've gotten so used to not having to attend to family concerns."

Sharre chuckles at the request in spite of herself. "I wouldn't do that to you, dear; I know how dull the family concerns are--and Syra is so territorial anyway. No, this is something far better. Laerdya Siannodel wants to see you at the Feytower on... oh, I don't remember when. A couple weeks. Eleint, I know that much; maybe the 7th? Or the 8th? I wrote it down but the paper is in my bedroom. Erdus will have to find it."

Sithani has heard of the wizard Laerdya Siannodel, of course; the elven woman is respected and loved in the city, and considered the city's best hope of a cure for the plague sweeping the slums. Having not been to the Feytower yet, she has not seen or met the lady, but for a newbie warlock the pull to meet one with so much magic and knowledge is strong.

"She wants to see me?" The half-elf blinks in surprise. "But that - no, I suppose she wants to ask me about the Far Realm. Unless you're playing a joke on me?" But surely she's too busy with the plague to start researching my patron?

Her mother sighs in that good-natured way she uses to indicate maternal fondness blended with disinterest. "Sithi, you knooow I don't understand when you go on about the Far Realm. I didn't ask why she wants to see you, but yes I assume it's magic related! You're a mage now, right? She probably, I don't know--" she waves an airy hand, "--meets all the mages when they're chosen. I must say it's about time! I put your application in to visit the Feytower weeks ago. The fact that they're only now getting around to summoning you is a bit insulting, if you ask me. But!"

She pulls down her sleep mask and gives her daughter a dazzling smile. "They're asking for you now, and that's what matters. I'm so proud of you, darling. You go do whatever little job they have for you and show them what a bright star you are."

Sithani can't help but smile. "Thank you, mother. When I'm fending off Asmodeus in a few weeks as I flee the Nine Hells I'll remember your enthusiasm."

Sharre snorts lightly and sips from her juice. "Don't fend him, darling," she says, her airy voice turning playful. "Invite him to dinner. Your father could use a little shaking up, and the neighbors will talk about it for months. Remember: if you're going to shock people, go big or it's just not worth the effort."

"But the conversation would be ever so dull. I'd never be able to show my face again."

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