Across Ausaphaborishan’s valley there was another gathering of quite a different flavor. This room was not quiet like the room containing only Ischarus and Semeion. Two women sat on tall stools while nearly a dozen other women danced around the room moving from the central women to various bags and counters along the walls. The women who were moving among one another and approaching the two central women all looked as though they belonged to the same family. They shared the same hint of flecks as Ischarus that looked of liquid mercury within their eyes. They all shared the same faint silver highlight to their dark hair as Ischarus did. Their actual face shapes were different, but their similar draconic lineage was easily observed.
The two central women were dressed identically to one another and neither of them seemed to particularly mind the primping and other attention that they were receiving. Neither of the women shared the draconic heritage with hints of mercury and silver, although the woman on the left had her own heritage markings of red. Each of these women were in various states of having their hair braided, their nails trimmed and polished, their faces powdered with make-up, and their bodies fitted with various types of undergarments. In many respects they appeared as though they were mannequins in a state of half-preparedness. Each of the women held their hands away from their bodies and kept their fingers spread wide while the white dye dried upon their nails.
Charis spoke first as she looked down upon the nails of her left hand. “If you would have told me that I would be doing this a year ago I would have kicked and screamed the whole way! In fact, if you would have told me a year ago that I was going to happily find a new dragon father and I’d have not believed it. I’d have not even wanted it! I was too busy trying to make life endurable for my people that I’d have completely passed on this opportunity if given the chance.”
Rhema turned her head to look at Charis’ nails as they dried. She shifted her own right hand over so that it was beside the fingers of Charis’ left hand. Once she saw how similar the dye made the nails appear, Rhema spoke. “Yet, here you are. And you did come kicking and screaming. But look at all that you have given to your people. They have a new dragon father and have grown tremendously upon arriving here in Barghost. Your people have begun to overcome their fears. They’ve begun to be able to take responsibility without the fear of enslavement. They’ve become productive and educated, Charis. All of this is true because you came kicking and screaming from Quehalost just a bit less than a year ago.”
Charis smiled at Rhema’s thought. She tilted her head back and looked up to where the wall met the ceiling. “And now Ausaphaborishan’s people gather to honor us. They gather to give to us what hospitality they can. I’m not sure there could be a better way to do this, Rhema. I’m glad you and Ischarus were able to work out the details to make this happen here at Ausaphaborishan’s valley.”
The women who were dancing around Charis and Rhema smiled at each other as they worked fervently. The eldest of the women approached Charis and Rhema and looked closely at how quickly the dye was absorbing into the nails and drying. She smiled as though she was satisfied with the result and quickly turned around. She lifted both of her hands up into the air and clapped quickly.
As the two quick beats of clapping snapped through the room all of the women stopped and turned. Charis and Rhema even gave this woman their full attention. Every woman in the room had a hopeful smile upon their face as the eldest woman spoke. “The dye is dry, ladies. The time has come to finish this production. We’ll begin with the dresses and apply the gloves. Then we’ll finish the facial coloring. Once the faces have been appropriately colored we’ll finish the braiding and then secure the proper headdresses. We’ve less than an hour, people. Let’s not take too long; and we’ll have no mistakes on my shift!”
The women who were in the role of service did not bother to respond. Instead, each of the women gathered up their long skirts so that they lifted another inch off of the floor. If they were to hurry, the shortened skirts would keep them from tripping. Six of the women moved to the wall directly behind Charis and Rhema. Two women each approached a pair of full length cabinets and opened the strong oak doors on each cabinet. The cabinets were not deep, but they were deep enough to allow a single dress to be hung within its walls. Another pair of women reached into each cabinet and lifted the dresses from where they had been hung. The remaining women gathered up the fabric to prevent it from sliding across the floor.
The dresses were terrifically ornate. Rhema and Charis each gasped when they saw the dresses for the first time. Each dress had been made to precisely fit each of the two women. Yet what made the dresses truly remarkable was the shimmering of the dress when it caught the light. It was clear that several of Ausaphaborishan’s scales had been used and cut into pieces roughly the size of a thumb-print. Each of these smaller pieces had been delicately woven into the fabric of the dress so that the dress appeared to have scales in the same pattern as Ausaphaborishan himself. When the dresses did not catch the light they looked as though they were made of liquid mercury. When the dresses caught the light they glinted as though they were fashioned from milky white pearls and shimmered with light blue and green sparkles.
The six women split up into two groups of three and helped Charis and Rhema into their dresses. The dresses opened from the backside and thus each of the eye hooks had to be secured from shoulder to the floor. Considering that there was an eyehook at least every inch, there was plenty of reason to need three women apiece for each dress. In each team, one woman was in charge of ensuring that the dress hung sharply from the shoulders while the other two women made sure that the eyehooks were fastened appropriately. In a matter of minutes Charis and Rhema were beautifully adorned in the dresses. The dresses were so perfectly fitted that they appeared to give the impression that the scales actually belonged to the respective body of each of the women.
A pair of women brought the gloves over to Charis and Rhema. The gloves were equally as impressively designed as the dresses. Similar cut draconic scales had been woven into the fabric of the glove covering the back of the hand and the backs of the fingers. The ends of each of the fingers had a small slit intentionally cut into the gloves. As Charis and Rhema placed their fingers into the gloves they realized that as their white dyed nails slipped through the slits in the end of the gloves their nails appeared to be claws. The scaled backs of the glove completed the draconic appearance of the hand.
As ornate as the outside of the glove was, the underside of each glove was made of a thin fabric that would allow Charis and Rhema the ability to feel with the tips of their fingers and their palms. Each of the women smiled with an odd look of pleasure as they opened and closed their hands and felt the draconic scales adjust across the back of their hands and fingers. The sensation was unusual but quite pleasurable.
The elderly woman approached once Charis and Rhema were completely dressed. She addressed the two women and snapped them out of their admiration of the gloves. “If you will please stand still, our artists will finish painting your faces. I’ll ask that you close your eyes for this stage. We wouldn’t want any paint to find its way into your eye and cause you to tear. If you cry now, you run the risk of destroying the paint.”
Charis wrinkled her eyebrow. “You mean we can’t cry until we’re done with the day?”
For the first time all day, the elderly woman gave a hint of smile upon her face. The other women in the room snickered behind Charis and Rhema. The elderly woman gave an honest and amused answer. “No. The paint will dry hard and fast in about ten minutes. If you can keep from crying until then you will be fine. Once the pain is dried, there is little besides scraping it off that will remove it, trust me.”
Two other women approached Charis and Rhema. These were the women who had put the base coat of paint upon Charis and Rhema much earlier in the day. Charis and Rhema each closed their eyes while the face painters worked their magic. When the women were done they had given shadow and life to the base coat applied earlier. Each of the women had been painted as if to appear to have scales across their foreheads, down their cheeks, across their nose, and under their chin.
The elderly woman spoke to the gathering in the room once more. “We’re almost done, ladies. You may open your eyes. Braiding matrons, work your magic!”
Two more women stepped forward with an assistant each. Earlier in the day both Charis and Rhema had their hair treated, lightly dyed, and a braid had begun to be woven through their hair. Now the braiding matrons continued their work and finished the task. The hair dye had set and this allowed the braids to be turned and twisted to give the impression of greater contour within the hair. In only a matter of minutes the matrons and their assistants stepped back. The smiles upon their faces displayed that they were content with their work.
The final two women in the room stepped forward and began to work the headdresses within the finished braids. By this time, Rhema and Charis had been expecting a sort of veil made from dragon scales. However, these women approached with flowers on small stems to be inserted into the braided hair. When the headdresses were completed, both Rhema’s and Charis’ head was filled with small buds and blooms from the flowers naturally growing in Ausaphaborishan’s valley. The colors had been chosen to match the glimmering of the dresses perfectly.
Now that the women were properly prepared for the service to come, the eldest woman brought forth two mirrors. These were the only mirrors in the room, so this would be the first time that Charis and Rhema were to see themselves as a finished beauty. The elderly woman softly touched each of Rhema’s and Charis’ face and smiled. As she handed them each a mirror the elderly woman spoke. “Your face painting has dried. You are free to laugh, smile, or even cry.”
Charis couldn’t help but smile at the comment about crying. Several of the women who had been pampering them throughout the day also chuckled from behind. As she looked at herself in the mirror she gasped in shock. Charis quickly turned to Rhema and then looked back into the mirror. “We’ve been painted differently!”
Rhema smiled. “Yes, it is my surprise for you on this day. I have been painted to match the coloration of the people and Ischarus’ dragon father. Your painting is a special blend that has never been done before. Your face reflects all three of the dragon father’s who have impacted your life. The majority of your color matches that which has been done to me in honor of Ausaphaborishan. But you have been given accents of Llywessiar’s color and even the color of your original heritage. You need not ever deny who you are and where you came from, Charis. You are accepted by these Drakontai and by Llywessiar’s Drakontai as you are. It is our gift to you.”
It was a god thing that the paint had been given time to dry. As Charis took in Rhema’s words and looked into the mirror at the masterpiece that had been drawn upon her face, she couldn’t help but cry. This day would be a beautiful day. She knew that the time was almost upon them. Rhema smiled upon Charis knowing that her surprise was worth the wait.
[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Across Ausaphaborishan’s valley there was another gathering of quite a different flavor. This room was not quiet like the room containing only Ischarus and Semeion. Two women sat on tall stools while nearly a dozen other women danced around the room moving from the central women to various bags and counters along the walls. The women who were moving among one another and approaching the two central women all looked as though they belonged to the same family. They shared the same hint of flecks as Ischarus that looked of liquid mercury within their eyes. They all shared the same faint silver highlight to their dark hair as Ischarus did. Their actual face shapes were different, but their similar draconic lineage was easily observed.
The two central women were dressed identically to one another and neither of them seemed to particularly mind the primping and other attention that they were receiving. Neither of the women shared the draconic heritage with hints of mercury and silver, although the woman on the left had her own heritage markings of red. Each of these women were in various states of having their hair braided, their nails trimmed and polished, their faces powdered with make-up, and their bodies fitted with various types of undergarments. In many respects they appeared as though they were mannequins in a state of half-preparedness. Each of the women held their hands away from their bodies and kept their fingers spread wide while the white dye dried upon their nails.
Charis spoke first as she looked down upon the nails of her left hand. “If you would have told me that I would be doing this a year ago I would have kicked and screamed the whole way! In fact, if you would have told me a year ago that I was going to happily find a new dragon father and I’d have not believed it. I’d have not even wanted it! I was too busy trying to make life endurable for my people that I’d have completely passed on this opportunity if given the chance.”
Rhema turned her head to look at Charis’ nails as they dried. She shifted her own right hand over so that it was beside the fingers of Charis’ left hand. Once she saw how similar the dye made the nails appear, Rhema spoke. “Yet, here you are. And you did come kicking and screaming. But look at all that you have given to your people. They have a new dragon father and have grown tremendously upon arriving here in Barghost. Your people have begun to overcome their fears. They’ve begun to be able to take responsibility without the fear of enslavement. They’ve become productive and educated, Charis. All of this is true because you came kicking and screaming from Quehalost just a bit less than a year ago.”
Charis smiled at Rhema’s thought. She tilted her head back and looked up to where the wall met the ceiling. “And now Ausaphaborishan’s people gather to honor us. They gather to give to us what hospitality they can. I’m not sure there could be a better way to do this, Rhema. I’m glad you and Ischarus were able to work out the details to make this happen here at Ausaphaborishan’s valley.”
The women who were dancing around Charis and Rhema smiled at each other as they worked fervently. The eldest of the women approached Charis and Rhema and looked closely at how quickly the dye was absorbing into the nails and drying. She smiled as though she was satisfied with the result and quickly turned around. She lifted both of her hands up into the air and clapped quickly.
As the two quick beats of clapping snapped through the room all of the women stopped and turned. Charis and Rhema even gave this woman their full attention. Every woman in the room had a hopeful smile upon their face as the eldest woman spoke. “The dye is dry, ladies. The time has come to finish this production. We’ll begin with the dresses and apply the gloves. Then we’ll finish the facial coloring. Once the faces have been appropriately colored we’ll finish the braiding and then secure the proper headdresses. We’ve less than an hour, people. Let’s not take too long; and we’ll have no mistakes on my shift!”
The women who were in the role of service did not bother to respond. Instead, each of the women gathered up their long skirts so that they lifted another inch off of the floor. If they were to hurry, the shortened skirts would keep them from tripping. Six of the women moved to the wall directly behind Charis and Rhema. Two women each approached a pair of full length cabinets and opened the strong oak doors on each cabinet. The cabinets were not deep, but they were deep enough to allow a single dress to be hung within its walls. Another pair of women reached into each cabinet and lifted the dresses from where they had been hung. The remaining women gathered up the fabric to prevent it from sliding across the floor.
The dresses were terrifically ornate. Rhema and Charis each gasped when they saw the dresses for the first time. Each dress had been made to precisely fit each of the two women. Yet what made the dresses truly remarkable was the shimmering of the dress when it caught the light. It was clear that several of Ausaphaborishan’s scales had been used and cut into pieces roughly the size of a thumb-print. Each of these smaller pieces had been delicately woven into the fabric of the dress so that the dress appeared to have scales in the same pattern as Ausaphaborishan himself. When the dresses did not catch the light they looked as though they were made of liquid mercury. When the dresses caught the light they glinted as though they were fashioned from milky white pearls and shimmered with light blue and green sparkles.
The six women split up into two groups of three and helped Charis and Rhema into their dresses. The dresses opened from the backside and thus each of the eye hooks had to be secured from shoulder to the floor. Considering that there was an eyehook at least every inch, there was plenty of reason to need three women apiece for each dress. In each team, one woman was in charge of ensuring that the dress hung sharply from the shoulders while the other two women made sure that the eyehooks were fastened appropriately. In a matter of minutes Charis and Rhema were beautifully adorned in the dresses. The dresses were so perfectly fitted that they appeared to give the impression that the scales actually belonged to the respective body of each of the women.
A pair of women brought the gloves over to Charis and Rhema. The gloves were equally as impressively designed as the dresses. Similar cut draconic scales had been woven into the fabric of the glove covering the back of the hand and the backs of the fingers. The ends of each of the fingers had a small slit intentionally cut into the gloves. As Charis and Rhema placed their fingers into the gloves they realized that as their white dyed nails slipped through the slits in the end of the gloves their nails appeared to be claws. The scaled backs of the glove completed the draconic appearance of the hand.
As ornate as the outside of the glove was, the underside of each glove was made of a thin fabric that would allow Charis and Rhema the ability to feel with the tips of their fingers and their palms. Each of the women smiled with an odd look of pleasure as they opened and closed their hands and felt the draconic scales adjust across the back of their hands and fingers. The sensation was unusual but quite pleasurable.
The elderly woman approached once Charis and Rhema were completely dressed. She addressed the two women and snapped them out of their admiration of the gloves. “If you will please stand still, our artists will finish painting your faces. I’ll ask that you close your eyes for this stage. We wouldn’t want any paint to find its way into your eye and cause you to tear. If you cry now, you run the risk of destroying the paint.”
Charis wrinkled her eyebrow. “You mean we can’t cry until we’re done with the day?”
For the first time all day, the elderly woman gave a hint of smile upon her face. The other women in the room snickered behind Charis and Rhema. The elderly woman gave an honest and amused answer. “No. The paint will dry hard and fast in about ten minutes. If you can keep from crying until then you will be fine. Once the pain is dried, there is little besides scraping it off that will remove it, trust me.”
Two other women approached Charis and Rhema. These were the women who had put the base coat of paint upon Charis and Rhema much earlier in the day. Charis and Rhema each closed their eyes while the face painters worked their magic. When the women were done they had given shadow and life to the base coat applied earlier. Each of the women had been painted as if to appear to have scales across their foreheads, down their cheeks, across their nose, and under their chin.
The elderly woman spoke to the gathering in the room once more. “We’re almost done, ladies. You may open your eyes. Braiding matrons, work your magic!”
Two more women stepped forward with an assistant each. Earlier in the day both Charis and Rhema had their hair treated, lightly dyed, and a braid had begun to be woven through their hair. Now the braiding matrons continued their work and finished the task. The hair dye had set and this allowed the braids to be turned and twisted to give the impression of greater contour within the hair. In only a matter of minutes the matrons and their assistants stepped back. The smiles upon their faces displayed that they were content with their work.
The final two women in the room stepped forward and began to work the headdresses within the finished braids. By this time, Rhema and Charis had been expecting a sort of veil made from dragon scales. However, these women approached with flowers on small stems to be inserted into the braided hair. When the headdresses were completed, both Rhema’s and Charis’ head was filled with small buds and blooms from the flowers naturally growing in Ausaphaborishan’s valley. The colors had been chosen to match the glimmering of the dresses perfectly.
Now that the women were properly prepared for the service to come, the eldest woman brought forth two mirrors. These were the only mirrors in the room, so this would be the first time that Charis and Rhema were to see themselves as a finished beauty. The elderly woman softly touched each of Rhema’s and Charis’ face and smiled. As she handed them each a mirror the elderly woman spoke. “Your face painting has dried. You are free to laugh, smile, or even cry.”
Charis couldn’t help but smile at the comment about crying. Several of the women who had been pampering them throughout the day also chuckled from behind. As she looked at herself in the mirror she gasped in shock. Charis quickly turned to Rhema and then looked back into the mirror. “We’ve been painted differently!”
Rhema smiled. “Yes, it is my surprise for you on this day. I have been painted to match the coloration of the people and Ischarus’ dragon father. Your painting is a special blend that has never been done before. Your face reflects all three of the dragon father’s who have impacted your life. The majority of your color matches that which has been done to me in honor of Ausaphaborishan. But you have been given accents of Llywessiar’s color and even the color of your original heritage. You need not ever deny who you are and where you came from, Charis. You are accepted by these Drakontai and by Llywessiar’s Drakontai as you are. It is our gift to you.”
It was a god thing that the paint had been given time to dry. As Charis took in Rhema’s words and looked into the mirror at the masterpiece that had been drawn upon her face, she couldn’t help but cry. This day would be a beautiful day. She knew that the time was almost upon them. Rhema smiled upon Charis knowing that her surprise was worth the wait.
[/Sblock]
