Rorri

　　Mr. Rorri Tip髇,

　　At the explicit request of Lady Shacia of House Rosari, you are formally invited to host a booth at the Seventy-Seventh Annual Royal Art Gala.

　　Hosts are required to supply their own displays and formal attire. A light supper and drink will be provided. Please plan to arrive at the Palace at High Noon on the day of the Spring Equinox to set up your display.

　　The Royal Family will not endorse any artist individually. There is no guarantee that the King or Queen will personally observe your work. You are encouraged to bring one assistant to oversee your booth while you are away from it for any reason. Any works left unattended shall be considered vulnerable to theft or damages at the sole liability of the owner. Pets are strictly prohibited, with the exception of service pets trained to provide accommodation for individuals with significant disability.

　　Due to current events, MAGIC OF ANY SORT IS FORBIDDEN DURING THE GALA. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. The Royal Family will not hear any petition to the contrary of this decree.

　　The Gala is a family event. We request that any works depicting nudity be tasteful, without the obvious intent to provoke unclean proclivities. If Gala staff determine any work is too crude to display, it must be removed from the premises by its owner at once. Staff are within their rights to forcibly remove any such works should the order be met with resistance.

　　We look forward to your contributions.

　　Warmest regards,

　　(illegible, looping squiggle)

　　*******

　　"You`re going to need new fancy clothes for the art show, you know."

　　Rorri cursed. He`d barely opened his eyes before Adar assaulted him with yet another thing to add to the list of things he had to do, but didn`t actually want to.

　　"Didn`t Bilge have a fancy coat or something I could wear?" he said blearily.

　　"That thing would swallow you," Adar said. "Anyway, I was going to wear it myself. It`s much nicer than that horrible vest he had me wear to the opera."

　　"Can I have the vest, then?"

　　"I`m not sure you realize how small you are," Adar said. "But you need pants too. I threw your old ones out a while ago, since they were all torn up from the fall. And you`ve gained weight since then-"

　　"You really need to learn when to stop explaining things," Rorri grumbled. "But fine, if you`re going to pay for it."

　　"Obviously I`m going to pay for it," Adar said. "You can pay me back after you`ve sold some art."

　　"Mau?"

　　"Whatever," Rorri said. "It`s all going to the same place, anyway. We`re practically married."

　　"We could get actually-married, if you want."

　　"Why would I want that?"

　　"We`d pay less in taxes," Adar said. "That`s mainly it, but I wouldn`t mind wearing a ring. Maybe then people would stop hitting on me."

　　"I`ll think about it," Rorri said, scratching the spot just before Poppy`s tail that made him bump his rear into the air.

　　"Mau?"

　　"We can go to Bilge`s friend`s seamstress," Adar said. "He`s got the address written down somewhere. She`s the one who made your pocket pants. She made the Widow dress, too, but I didn`t get fitted for it. That`s probably why it chafed my nipples so bad."

　　"I really, really did not need that image," Rorri said, cringing.

　　"Sorry."

　　"It`s fine. We`re going tomorrow then, I assume?"

　　"We could go right now if you want," Adar said. "Probably should leave Poppy here, though. I wouldn`t want him eating a needle. He`ll eat literally anything. I caught him eating the bag of beans the other day. The bag, not the beans. Please remember to close the cabinet door next time, by the way. That can`t be good for him."

　　"Mau?"

　　"Stop eating bags," Rorri said sternly, tapping the cat`s forehead. "But, sure, we can go now. Not like I`ve got anything better to do, ever."

　　"Perfect. I`ll go hail a cab."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

　　Pak

　　They upgrade my quarters, giving me a desk, a chair, and papers to doodle on. I can`t help but remember mine and Kano`s dorm room. The layout is remarkably similar, but there`s only one bed instead of two. I wish I had a mouse-hole, or a brave little mouse like the General to keep me company, but all I have are the spiders and worms. They`re not nearly as cute.

　　I`ve asked for my mother`s letter back, and they let me have the transcribed copy, but they retain the original, for now`, though they won`t tell me why. Nobody believes it`s enchanted. What could they possibly want it for?

　　The spoli fill my cave, but they don`t respond when I ask to hear what my captors are saying. I don`t know how they prevent it. I`ve never been scolded for it, but my spoli refuse to go. They`ve learned. But they still give me the light I need for doodling.

　　*******

　　My captors pull me every now and then to go to a bunker and answer questions. I know they`ll be coming if I`m given an enchanted egg for breakfast. The Major and his transcriber rotate with another duo. I like the second pair better. They don`t demand and order. They knock gently and request.

　　They ask what happened to my eye. Someone burned it, I say. Playground bullies.

　　They ask me about my family. I tell them I never knew them, except my Grandmother. She kept me hidden. I don`t talk about how she would beat me and scream at me and read me bedtime stories. I don`t tell them how she died. I tell them my father raped my mother and she died giving birth to me. I tell them my mother`s name was Lilia, even though they didn`t ask.

　　*******

　　A small Du閚 man comes to feed me every so often, pushing a tray through a slat in the door. He says a few words I don`t understand. The egg always wears off before he gets here. I etch the number of meals I eat into the stone beneath my spongy mat. It`s thirty-three meals before I figure out that he`s asking if I need anything else. I never respond. Why does he keep asking?

　　*******

　　The Major asks me about Iridan. I tell him about the human monarchy, the nobility, the Royal Guard, the Plateau, the Wall, the Basin, the river, the pipes, running water. I give all the details of my education, the propaganda against them. He asks if I have any loyalties there. I roll my eyes and remind him that they never even gave me papers.

　　He asks if I know why the Surfacers steal Du閚 bodies away. The old stranger mentioned it, too. I can`t imagine why anyone would do such a thing. Taking prisoners of war, I understand, but corpses&? I sense his disappointment, but he doesn`t press me further. I wonder how long they`ve been trying to figure this out, how many of their dead have gone missing.

　　*******

　　Sixty-six meals pass.

　　I ask them what they teach their children about the surface. I ask them about the Belethlian fires. I ask about the attack on the Nellywing Opera House, and I ask about the Widow. One of them quirks their eyebrow. It`s the closest thing I`ve gotten to a response yet.

　　I teach them surface Elvish. It`s remarkably similar to Obsidian Elvish, and they pick it up quickly. I`ve pieced together some of their language, comparing what my ears hear to what my mind interprets, but it doesn`t get me far. They won`t teach me formally. I could probably order at an Obsidian restaurant if I had to.

　　*******

　　Ninety-nine meals&

　　Tok`sera and Miago take turns taking me out for walks, leashed. Tok`sera talks. Miago doesn`t. I prefer walking with him.

　　The farther we travel from the compound, the more breathtaking the caverns become. Fungal patterns decorate the rock, blinking soft light. Flower-like mushrooms bloom and stare, like eyes in the stone, following the heat of our bodies. Glowing paint depicts symbols like street signs. One tunnel features a mural, a giant arrow, carved by an artist. Fiery red, orange and yellow moss colors it from the arrowhead to the tail. It points towards a cave Tok`sera says is off-limits. I smell something burning that way, but their fires never do carry smoke.

　　People watch and whisper as we pass.

　　I heard&

　　&really came from...?

　　&crazy&

　　Some things never change.

　　Spoli settle at the bottom of a pool, casting an ethereal greenish glow through the water. It reminds me of the algae-filled pond back home, complete with an uncomfortable bench. But it`s not the same, here, with Tok`sera or Miago beside me. My chest is still tight, and looking at them doesn`t warm my head. I love and hate this place at once, but I always ask to go back to it. Sometimes they take me, sometimes they don`t.

　　At times, I remember Kano, and his memory refuses to leave. I speak to him in my thoughts, as if he could hear me. It`s silly. Even from so far away, he`s found a way to bother me. I know it`s not really him doing it, but& it`s just so hard to brush him away.

　　(I miss you&)

　　*******

　　Tok`sera will compliment a drawing now and then, and she`ll ask me how I`m feeling, if there`s anything I need. We barely speak, otherwise. I`m not much of a conversationalist. I tell her I`m fine. I don`t need anything.

　　I keep watch for wildlife, animals of any sort, but it seems they`re all too good at hiding. Occasionally a small lizard, maybe a salamander, shoots by, and bats sometimes swarm the top of the canyon like a flock of birds in migration. There aren`t any rats or mice or pests apart from the insects. On one of our walks, I glimpse what looks like a small, fluffy cat, creeping against a wall. It stops to watch me with its glowing yellow eyes, then scampers away. I ask Tok`sera what it was. She calls it a matnit, says they`re dangerous predators. I draw the cave-cats all the time, and I keep looking for them, but I never do see another one. I wonder if the Du閚 ever try speaking with their wildlife. I look for the opportunity while the nefizzet egg is still working, but I never get the chance. They keep me too well-isolated and under constant watch. I can`t imagine they`d approve of me talking to their animals.