The clamour of voices, laughter, and music, and the smell of food and wine filled the streets of Emerald Silk district of the city Žanutian’ur, locally known as Žančur. There weren’t many children to be found along these streets, but they were there, if one looked for them.
Some played hide and seek among the visitors, others made those visiting these streets play hide and seek with the purses. Some were busy calling for strangers others ran errands.
Most weren’t poorly dressed, but the clothes could at times seem a little gaudy, as if their parents tried too hard to seem well off. It wasn’t unlikely they were well-fed, but not to the point of being round, yet some were very thin. Almost all of them seemed to be boys at first glance, but if one looked a little closer, perhaps one’d notice it was not so.
Regardless of their dress and build, what was all common among them was that they would seemingly disappear at night and only ever reappear on the Emerald Silk streets come next afternoon.
One of those children could be found standing by the entrance to a larger building with three floors. Men passing by couldn’t tell whether this one was originally male or female, as they already had painted lips and blushing cheeks with hair and face hidden by a red veil, and an equally vivid red shawl in sheer fabric hung at at the elbows, while their tunic had a floral pattern on white.
At this moment, they held a stick in hand, carefully guiding a lantern up to a hook high up above their head.
“Ellellaz!”
They stopped their task and looked over at the man who had shouted, their amber eyes seemingly to shine like the sun in the reflected light. A smile had lifted the corners of their mouth.
“Let me help with that,” the man added, and made to grab the stick.
“Hey! Get your hands off of what’s ours!” a woman shouted. “Pay up if you to have the slightest chance to even want to see that child without the veil!”
The woman stepped out, placing herself between the child and the man.
“Sheesh, I just wanted to help the butterfly. Aren’t you a bit stingy?”
“Help’em, my ass! Leave, we’re not open!”
“Tsk. I’ll be back later. I’ll see you later, Ellellaz!”
The child had continued their task, getting the lantern up. They looked at the man, smile still playing on their lips.
“Masellaž, go inside and wipe that smile off your face. Your mother called for you.”
The child put their hands together in gratitude and nodded, running back inside.
“Masellaž! Hurry, hurry! The lady is unhappy!” some of the women called after the child, and the sound of tinkling laughter followed their steps.
The child ran up the stairs to the second floor and entered the room filled with the sweet scent of lilies.
“Mother.”
The music stopped and the woman with piercingly blue eyes and nut brown hair look up.
“Laž’ar.”
Her features softened considerably as she smiled. Her eyes held overflowing affection for the one before her, yet looked like she would tease him at any moment.
“You called for me.”
The woman nodded. “I worried they would start bothering you, Laž’ar. You’re growing up so quickly, I can’t help but worry.”
Laž’ar got themselves a cushion and placed it on the floor next to their mother. With ease they removed the veil to reveal their face. Their features had begun to lack the childish roundness, and instead becoming more that of an adult, but whether it was at the right time or too early was difficult to say.
Their mother put her string instrument away, moving a small table to stand before the two.
“Laž’ar, what would you like to do, when you can no longer stay among the roses?”
Laž’ar only smiled, and began preparing ink.
“Laž’ar…”
“I won’t leave,” Laž’ar replied. “As long as I don’t look like a man—”
“Laž’ar, are you determined to become a divine?”
Laž’ar looked at his mother. “Can’t I? I didn’t think I could make that choice to begin with. Or are you saying I am unable to be one?”
“Well, yes, you can choose, but why here?”
“Why is mother among the roses then?”
The woman looked down.
“Laž’ar, if some day you can’t stay here, promise me one thing.”
“Mother, I won’t leave.”
The woman smiled in defeat. “Even so, promise me to go to the Capital.”
Laž’ar frowned. “This is the capital.”
“I meant the Imperial Capital. If you go, you can live well. You have your painting and your poems—”
“Mother, I will not leave.”
“—and you can always go to the Imperial Palace.”
“Why do you always say this now? I will not leave. You always told me I could stay by your side. Why can’t I now?”
Laž’ar’s mother placed a kiss on top of his head.
“Mother was wrong. Of course you can stay, Laž’ar.”
Having heard her say this, Laž’ar took a sheet of paper and looked back at his mother. “What do I paint today? What will you sing?”
The woman lowered her eyes as she thought, then looked up, a slightly mournful expression on her beautiful face. Laž’ar placed brush to paper right as she chose to reply.
“I’ll sing ‘Butterly of the Garden’. Will you paint that for me?”
Laž’ar hummed as he carefully painted the scene of a man and a woman. The woman looked much like his mother, the man… he never had a set appearance, but he always gave the man a pair of amber eyes.
When there was no sun left the place opened for the night, and Laž’ar carried his mother’s things to a room where she would entertain the guests. He carefully arranged them before he placed put up the paintings.
“Masellaž, are you here to entertain tonight?”
Laž’ar turned to the proprietress with a smile on his lips and crescent eyes.
“I’m still not very old and have no talents, who can I entertain?”
“You are a pretty child. Help out a little, mm?”
Laž’ar tilted his head.
“What will mother gain from this?”
“How about I pay her an additional part?”
He thought briefly, corners of his mouth quirking up. “Then I am not worth much. I will decline for today.”
“Two parts, two parts!”
“You really wish for me to perform?”
“Yes!”
“Triple then.”
“Laž’ar, you’re being a little unreasonable here. How can I pay her three times the usual? I’ll give her one and a half.”
“Two and seven parts.”
The woman clicked her tongue. “Who teaches you these things? I want to have a talk with her.”
Laž’ar chuckled.
“Fine, one and seven parts.”
“Two and five.”
“Can’t you go down just a little? One and eight?”
He shook his head. “Anything less and it’s not worth my mother’s anger.”
“Alright, I’ll pay double. That’s worth it, trust me.”
He considered it for a little while. “Double it is, then. I know exactly how much that is, so don’t think you can tell me otherwise. If it’s not double, you’ll regret it.”
The proprietress tsked, but still smiled. “Go get ready then, Laž’ar.”
Laž’ar lifted his hand covering his mouth as he smiled. “Ma’am surely you jest. What could I need to prepare for?”
It was silent aside from the last note that Laž’ar played on the harp. He slowly opened his eyes and lifted his gaze to look at the men who had come to spend time with the women and divine of the Pavilion.
“Ellellaz, when are you going to move? How about you work at the pavilion across the street?”
Laž’ar blinked and then smiled softly, not answering them.
“Ellellaz, why don’t you compose us a poem? You’ve been learning under the lady, no?”
“I am young and uneducated. I beg the lords for forgiveness for my lack of talent in poetry.”
One of the men shifted closer and had one of the servants pour wine in a goblet. He offered it to Laž’ar who put his harp to the side. He then took the goblet with a slight bow before he placed it on the table in front of him.
“M’lord is too kind to offer me this wine.”
The man barked a laugh. “Come here, Ellellaz! Sit with us for a while!”
With a soft smile, Laž’ar only so slightly shook his head.
The man shifted closer, making Laž’ar smile falter.
“M’lord, roses are to be admired with your eyes and nose. Touch them and you make cut yourself deeply on the thorns.”
The man paused, then added a little space between them.
Another one laughed heartily. “Ellellaz may look pretty, but is a fierce one. I hear the old man over at the river side got bitten once.”
Laž’ar lifted his hand, the fabric sliding down to reveal a slender wrist the colour of white lilies, with a band of silver and various coloured beads around it. He covered his mouth as he smiled widely. “Who shares such brutal stories? Surely you can’t believe I would bite someone? Am I really no better than an animal, m’lord?”
“No, no! Ellellaz is better than any animal. We shall look and not touch. Right, brothers?”
There was overall agreement. Hearing this, Laž’ar lowered his gaze. He took the wine goblet and handed it to the servant. He picked up his harp again, beginning to play as he sang.