In this stagnant place where death was ever present, Nadira cleaned the pews of the Church. In her black robe and veil, she scrubbed at the stains left behind by greasy hands and careless children. She huffed in her frustration. Behind her at the front of the altar, a fountain of water rest at the stone feet of the King and Queen - towering carved statues reaching high. The main space of the Church had balconies on either side. From the higher levels of pews, one could look the Royals in the face. The air smelled of insence and algae, mixed into a heady aroma. Water came from the statue's base so gently that the pool was a mirror. Each statue held one hand up to the ceiling and the other hand clasped together. Nadira, in their shadow, scowled into her work. She had spent the previous day watching those from noble houses strut through. They had been attending funerals or weddings. Nadira hadn't paid attention. The crowds came and went in a blur. Now that they were gone, she had to clean up their mess. Earlier she had felt so useless. In the Orphan's black, she watched all the nobles in their colours. She had listened to all the talk of matches and balls, the life of people, while she didn't feel like a person at all. She might as well have been a gargoyle to them. The nobles had so much to live for, and here she was scrubbing floors. All because she was not of Family. Nadira thought of her friend Daress, who always cheered her when she was this moody. She tried to think of what she would tell her. She wouldn't need to speculate for long, as sure enough, a figure approached from a back room of the Church. Nadira could tell it was Daress by her careful and fluid way of walking. One learned to notice other qualities in fellow Orphans. Nadira raised a hand towards her friend to greet her. It was about time for a break anyway, she told herself. She tossed her scrub cloth into the bucket, leaving the bar of soap on the pew to sink into ancient wooden creases. Daress had been an Orphan with her for the past eight years, and was one of the only Orphans her age. It was clear to Nadira that the other girl was more made out for this kind of life than she was. Daress seemed able to be content with what she had. Daress must have noticed Nadira's dour posture. She tilted her head as she approached her, the black veil of the Orphan draping to one side with the motion. “What’s wrong, Tulip?” What wasn't wrong? She was grumpy and envious. If only she had an answer to her questions, or at least a life that was her own. As she was growing into adulthood, a life outside of devotion was calling her more and more. The only life outside of devotion that she could see was to be part of a Family. They weren't as simple as mother and father - those were only units. There was nuance. Even a smaller unit under serfdom to a Family was Family. They had a name, a motto, and purpose. It wasn’t blood, but pact, and that was stronger. To say that you had no Family and become an Orphan was a great thing indeed. Usually it indicated some crime and a shameful disowning. Yet seventeen years ago, she arrived here as an infant, never to know where she came from. So all she could say was, “Stop with your tulip, what even is a tulip, anyways?” “It’s an old surface flower. Saw it in one of the books. It makes me think of a kiss, two lips,” Daress explained. Her head was always filled with fancy from the library, and it made her quite detached from the dread of the daily. “So you’re calling me an old dead thing," Nadira moved over the soap and collapsed into the pew. "Well, I guess it’s apt.” “Oh, come now," Daress said. "What life have I, really? I'll never be able to pursue anything remotely interesting." She thought of Daress, enchanted by the library. "At least, not to me personally," she added with haste. “Nadira, that’s simply not true. There’s no use giving up yet. I won't let you.” “And why not?” “We’re still so young is why. There’s so much more life we haven’t experienced yet. So many memories to look back on fondly in old age.” Daress had read enough to imagine herself wise. Nadira couldn't help but laugh, “That’s too abstract to even imagine. But you are right I’d love to do something with my life. Maybe I should go run away. I could become a courtesan or something with the Sots, maybe. Join a gang." “They respect us here,” Daress pointed out. “I don’t want respect I want excitement!" She picked up the soap and threw it into the bucket in her frustration. "I want intrigue and love and danger. I want to live, Daress! I don’t want to be some set piece for the Church.” Daress straightened herself. “Intrigue and danger you might find with the houses, but I dare say you won’t find love there.” Nadira thought she might have hit a nerve and went quiet. After all, Daress had come from a noble Family, herself. All the same, as soon as they saw her involved in an accident, they turned on her without a second thought. They scapegoated her and wiped from their line completely at such a young age. It was no wonder that she found a much kinder home in the Orphanage where they accepted anyone who would come. Persistent, Nadira changed to a different angle. “What about magic, though?” “What do I care about it?” Daress replied, “I never got any, I was too young to pact, and I honestly couldn’t care. If the ancestors are okay with how Family act and still give them blessings for it, I want nothing to do with them. And, frankly Nadira? I'm surprised you do.” The accusation hurt, but for Nadira the Families were an alternative. Anything had to be better than where she was. As an Orphan she had no choices of her own. Daress could not squash her dreams of freedom that easily. “But... Surely, not every Family is like yours?” “I say they’re all the same. I love you, Nadira, and I don’t want to talk about this any more. But I do think there’s plenty of purpose to be found here. You know the Orphans can become Diplomats in major political talks between houses. The applications just opened for this season. If you work hard and make the right kinds of friends here, you could get all the intrigue and action you want.” Nadira almost laughed, “What part of 'Diplomat' sounds like action to you?” “The kind where all the drama is happening around you, and you have to be the one to fix it," Daress replied. “Maybe. I guess it will do for now. Anything’s better than what I’m doing." It was not the kind of adventure she was looking for, but she would try anything. “Well I’m glad to give you a good idea.” Nadira stood up from the pew and took the bucket by the handle, thinking she would have to get back to work. Oh, she had almost forgot, “I love you too, by the way.” Daress gave her a hug and let her off, taking her cleaning supplies out of her hands as she pulled back. “I’ll take over in here. The matron asked for you.” “And you left her waiting this long to chat?” Although Nadira couldn't see Daress' face, she could tell she smiled when she replied with an “Of course!” They laughed and parted ways. Nadira hoped the matron wouldn't be too angry at the delay. -- The matron ran the Orphanage, and she was a busy woman. Leliana had a long day from the moment she woke up in the tower. She looked out at the glowing view below. Shades of cerulean, gold and emerald were cast upward from the marketplace below. The lights struck the jagged roof of stone above them and made the view iridescent. The tower of the Church was a long stalactite near the centre of the undercity, Entithea. The architects of old had crafted the Church with love. Classical reliefs and elegant pillars stood grand, a weave of arching geometry. She was proud of her office, and her position here. She took time in the mornings to admire her place in the fabric of things. Soon, she would open her doors to visitors. They might request some social event held in their buildings, or come to her with squabble. A broken wall or a broken agreement. As one of the head Diplomats, she was responsible for these among all the other children who ended up with her. She was to find compromise, and ensure peace. It was a big job, no doubt. In her office were a thousand secrets that could, if mishandled, destroy the social web of the city - and she to mind them. There was the first knock on her door, and she turned from the view. “Yes,” she said to the door, and the girl came in from behind it. “You asked for me, ma’am?” “Just the girl I wanted to see, Nadira." Leliana would have recognized her by voice alone, but she looked up to see Nadira's boney frame at the door. The girl's hand already rest at her hip with impertinence. The matron continued, "There’s a new homeless to join with us today. I’d like you to do their orientation around their new home.” “Again?” “It has been some months since you last performed this duty, Nadira,” Leliana reminded her. She removed her veil and start arranging papers on her desk for later with rough hands. She was in her mid forties, and had an olive complexion with chestnut hair tied up into a practical bun. A few lines were starting to set in beside her eyes and along her forehead. “But I did do it the last time there were new ones. Can’t you give it to someone else?” Nadira said. She stepped further into the room to lean against the chair across from the desk. After a moment she removed her veil in the heat and privacy of the office. Leliana was dismayed. She shook her head, “Really, Nadira, you act so childish, and yet you’re an adult soon enough. How do you expect to be useful if every station is a chore?” “But it is a chore." “It’s a station, and a noble one," Leliana told her. "What would you rather be doing? Sleeping in, I imagine? Eating twice the breakfast and watching people from a perch somewhere. Because I know you never visit the library. You can do all those things on your rest days, but not every day can be one.” Nadira let out a sigh, “I’m not as lazy as what you say.” “Then prove it to me, and give them a tour." Leliana observed the girl for a moment. Nadira looked so young. Her skin was pale skin with a splash of freckles on her face. Mousy hair was tied back in a loose bun similar in style to Leliana's. She had raised Nadira as if she was her own. It was not every day they received one so young as her. It had been a particular challenge, to say the least. Yet, perhaps because of the challenge, Nadira was one of her most precious Orphans. And so it irked Leliana more intensely when she didn’t share the enthusiasm for her role in life here. It was often Nadira expressed her wish to do anything but what Leliana asked. “What would you rather be doing?” Nadira pinched at her fingernails while hearing the question. “Well… I was thinking about Diplomats like yourself, and, well maybe that path is more engaging? I could be an understudy? It’d be better than showing them the same halls I’m always in. And I’d hear more about the houses.” ‘Oh, the houses again’, thought Leliana. She was well used to Nadira’s fantasies about leaving her home there and joining with some Family. Leliana felt herself stiffen against the notion. “Diplomats do not go for tea with the Families and interview them like celebrities. I think you’ll find that post unsuitable to what you desire.” Here Nadira fell into the role of child again, “Aw please?!” “If you make a formal application, and do your present duties effectively, that application will be considered. The same as any other.” “Right… so no.” Leliana gave a smile like a wall, “Not with that attitude.” Nadira huffed and turned. “They’ll be arriving in a few hours at the gates, thank you," Leliana said to her. “Fine.” Nadira started to exit herself. “You are dismissed,” Leliana called to the closing door, a pettiness to get in a final word when there was no need. She pursed her lips after Nadira left. That girl always brought out such a bad side to her. Leliana should have been be happy that Nadira was going for such a noble position. It showed that she keen to make something of herself. But it was her reasons that she was nervous of. Leliana couldn’t go making a Diplomat of someone who didn’t take the role with the seriousness that it deserved. A lot depended on them. It wouldn’t do to make a fool of the Orphanage as an organization when the Families pressed in on them from all sides. It came down to if she believed that Nadira was capable of, or even willing to take it seriously. She would have to wait and see.