Lujayn's Letters Home

[illumination]

[A letter sent by ashsail to the office of Burhan al-Farisyya, of the Second Legion of the Sultan's Janissaries, in the Watchful Tower overlooking the jewelry district of Baz'eel.]

Dearest Burhan, beloved brother,

My, but these Ephians are a trouble!

As goes the popular opinion in Mother Baz'eel, Ephians are nigh-invariably without good manners; their speech and characters are rough, as befits a frontier people. Their unsparing rigor suits well in wartime but is a poor fit for peace. There are some exceptions to this, in facade if not in truth: some Ephians hail from "civilized" places, or were even raised as "nobility" (determined by which 'noble' was best at murdering their kin) or with "wealth" (now ashes), or were "educated" (in how to use a sword, mostly) and pretend to good manners; yet even these are swift to abandon gentility for, often, no reason at all.

The most well-mannered Ephians are those who eschew politics and so have no need of etiquette for dealmaking, while those with the most to gain from negotiation do conduct themselves with all the charm and empathy of a poorly-fed beast. When one wants a civil conversation and possibility of mutual benefit, best to send for a barefoot Kulamet trailing sand across the floor, an independent veteran or some hungry laborer; when one wishes a fruitless and vicious argument, look no further than the Ephian Accord officers (with few exceptions).

These people, brother! The magnitude and immediacy of their entitlement and narcissism presents a dual shock: one, that their grievance arises with such little provocation, and two, that they begin to snarl and roll about their eyes even in the midst of presenting their proposals. "If you would please," they begin, and here they stoop, green scales multiplying to cover all their body, "grant me," they continue, now exhaling breath steaming visibly through sharp fangs, "the matter I discussed in my letter," as they proceed to writhe and toss about the floor, wrecking the furniture, while I sit ready to pour us a cup of tea. When I finally speak and point out my displeasure at a basilisk's presence in my office, they declare to the gods my betrayal of our storied friendship, my great foolishness and unsuitability to my role, and then finish by asking if they can have what they requested, and I had better give it or else, with a final whip of a tail to shatter a chair and a finishing comment on how my hairstyle is out of fashion and my scent is rank.

You might imagine I exaggerate, Burhan, but quite literally, more times than not, these people have insulted me with the first words out of their mouths when they seek to make a deal, often before we have even sat down. It is bewildering behavior, giving me cause to wonder whether they want a deal at all, or if it is merely pretext to have fun at my expense. "Oh, you should have seen her face," they cry later, gleeful over wine.

At the issue's heart must be their uneven and unpolished upbringings. Some of these people were nothing more than common criminals, uneducated orphans, or those raised with inviolable birthrights, accustomed to giving orders to servants. They have no concept of saving face, of recognizing that dignity is important in relationships. Their habit is taking through force and intimidation. For who else would think one can angrily demand the capitulation of a person over whom one has little leverage, and then expect them to grant one's desire, even if they were planning to grant it?

If I did not take my duty seriously, if I did not truly have Ephia's Well's prosperity at heart, if I did not feel, in some cases, that I owed certain individuals considerations, I would happily do the opposite of their requests, paying back spite with spite.

However, I was raised better. Holding to my promises is a matter of honor which our father taught me well. I would never betray my duty to the settlement. But why must they make it so unpleasant? [This last word is underlined three times.]

Dear brother, I appreciate the opportunity for catharsis. I must write more often. Please do tell me all of your latest news in your reply.

With love,
Lujayn, your favorite sister