Player: Jen M
Email: litha@djemity.chaosdeathfish.com
Caste: Explorer Fleet

Her bones are all of coral made
those are pearls that were her eyes
nothing of her that fades
but suffers a sea-change
into something rich and strange.

After nearly a decade comatose after a curious incident in the Western Ocean, the High Admiral's aunt awakes to find the world desperately in need of her talents. Shaking the dream-webs from her head, she jumps into the fray, hoping that the one-two punch her family packs will be enough to turn the tide, and praying she can get her head around the massive changes to the world.

Eumelos woke to starlight, which was not in and of itself unusual. What was unusual was that it seemed to be coming from inside the room rather than outside the window. He started up.

Litha rose from the chair where she’d been waiting. “Eumelos. Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said, and they both paused.

Litha sighed. “Mar—he’s had a turn. We have to leave tonight. I’m sorry.”

“But we haven’t duelled!” said Eumelos. “You said we could duel.”

Litha grimaced, an expression for which her scaled face was designed well. “That was before. Look, I’m sorry, but if I’m to have any time at all with my—with my captain, I have to leave now and get him beyond the stars.”

“Oh,” said Eumelos.

“Look,” said Litha. “I’ve brought you these.” She stepped close to him, and handed him two journals. “This one,” and she held up a highly ornate tome, written, clearly to revere words, even Litha’s, “this one was made by the Teklo. They stipulated that they were to have a copy, and then Andar wanted one, and then—it all got so public. That wasn’t what you meant, was it?”

“No,” he replied.

“I didn’t think so. So I got Zur to make this one,” she said, handing over a much plainer, less tooled version. “This one—well, it’s just me, and it’s just you.”

His hand touched hers on the book. There was a pause, then he took a step forward, to be met with a sudden pain as Litha moved faster than thought and drew the pommel of her sword quickly and firmly into his solar plexus. He thought “Nice technique,” even as Litha continued talking, very quickly, her pearl eyes sliding away from his dark ones.

“Don’t,” she said firmly, but with a hint of panic. “Don’t let’s let sex enter into it. That’s how I wound up married last time.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gesturing in frustration, as he had seen her do so many times at the inadequacy of words to express things. She half-smiled, and flew out the window, her name echoing behind her.

Mar’Kaven’Fra, quondam admiral of the war fleet, and Mar’Kaven’Mas, better known as Litha of various soubriquets—captain of the Thra, of the Diamond Arm, Champion of the Fleets, close relative of Andar’Guzel’Es’Fra—are said to have passed beyond the stars in age that no longer needed them. Whether they were, as some allege to claim to have had it from the High Admiral in his time, a late-blooming romance, or whether she followed her old mentor out of a sense of duty, despite loving a Kirlsa king, is surely insignificant besides their service to the people of the Aquienos, and latterly of Djemity.

-Rig'Galleg'Es'Di'Yos , Aquienos historian.

Her feelings were clear to no one until that day in the Seraphol, when she killed Woden not out of rage, but because of a too-great love that mastered her. Where the god-king Eumelos comes in, I’m not sure—rumour has it he has a book in which she told him the truth. I’ve tried sneaking in to see, but I keep getting caught. Either way, it’s a wonderful story, isn’t it? I think we forgot they were real people who loved and suffered!

-Litoc, young Becquerel storyteller

Chumana says Litha left because she wouldn’t be a second-string wife. I’ve heard stories, though, that on the night of the royal wedding, a star bloomed high in the desert, diamond-bright, and the Divine King would watch it for days…my poor mistress.

-Mansi, maidservant to the Kirlsa Queen Chumana, wife of Eumelos Wyrmhand the Divine.

From the (main) Journal created by the Teklo, that Mar and Litha took to the stars.

My name is Litha’Kaven’Mas. My captain is Mar’Kaven’Fra. We are travelling beyond the stars…

…left before the trial not because I'm running but because time is short, and Mar’s time doubly so. I don’t give a damn about the trial either way; it’s just politics.

…have said I’ll come back if Mar ends before I do. My word means something. I’ve left behind people that are part of me, but I was born Explorer Fleet…

All my life, it was my dream to get to the stars. I did that the first month I was awake. At the last battle, everyone was in the starsea. Everyone. The stars weren’t any less miraculous, but they suddenly seemed a lot closer.

Nobody else has ever been beyond the stars. I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since I talked to Talith, though I had no idea I wouldn’t be alone, that the man who would be with me is one who has shaped everything I am except the hideous freak part. And (this is a long entry, Mar’s talking to Gipitaka and I got confused in the first 5 minutes) you know what? There are people I met over the past war who didn’t even see that. I think that willingness to look beyond will be what gives Djemity the chance to survive. Fuck you, Milegarn…

It’s nearly time. I was Champion of the Fleets at 15, served in innumerable actions, took down wyrms, sometimes singlehandedly—broke them across my knee, cracked their obsidian spines. Litha of the Diamond Arm. I raced the wind when I was ten, and was given the ability to fly. The only thing that could ever distract me was a threat to the ones I love…

…there is no time here, only the stars and this man who I swore I would follow beyond time itself. Yes, I was drunk, but I never meant anything more…

…Andar, did I ever tell you how much I’m proud of you, and have loved you from the time you were born, small, squally, and vocal even then?

…Eumelos…[indistinguishable]

My name is Mar’Kaven’Mas, Champion of the Aquienos. The gates are open.

From the Journal she shared with Eumelos alone.

…I thought I’d have all these big important things to say. I’m sure there are big important things to say—I’m just too thick to realise what they are…

…there is no time here. It may have been years already. Did the games happen? Are you happy?

The gates are open. Look to the night sky…

You matter…[breaks off]