eternal lullaby

The ride away from No Man's Hearth was uneventful. She did notice how much smoother and quieter the coach was than a carriage. Granted, she wasn't exactly used to those either; both were only for those that had the means to afford them. As a Casthewn, she couldn't even afford a horse. Not that she could ride anymore anyway. She slumped in the seat, staring at the back of Roman's head while he drove. She should probably attempt to talk as she was now in his employ. She had no idea what to talk about, though. She was so unused to people with no affiliation to the Oath. Nyrissa had been tending No Man's Hearth for so long she knew all about it and everyone passing through had been in it. It was all she'd known since she was seven. How was she supposed to interact with those who didn't have it as their entire identity until not that long ago? Especially when Neo had to use slate and chalk? Hard to carry on a conversation across seats like that. Eventually, they pulled into a garage and she felt the coach settle on the ground. The door to her seat opened. A well-dressed man stood there and offered his hand. "Milady." She looked at him, spooked. She hadn't been referred to in such a way since she'd been a child in House Nikos. She was an Unwoven Casthewn now. No lands to inherit, no title at all. Why was he treating her so formally? She placed her hand in his, her balance unsteady without her crutches. But they were retrieved and she was led into the house proper. It was an opulent thing with statues and intricate display pieces in glass cases. It wasn't anything compared to the house she'd grown up in, granted. But compared to the Oath's barracks and No Man's Hearth, it was the lap of luxury. This man was well off by normal standards, though not by Great House standards. Still, it took her breath away to see such opulence again. It hurt, knowing her family had thrown her away because the reincarnation cycle created a deep fear in Great Houses. All was impermanent and would eventually be forgotten. Great Houses didn't like that and tried to fight, to be remembered, by legacies of strength. Anyone or anything seen as lesser was to be tossed away and forgotten, erased from memory soon after their weaknesses were discovered. Death would have been Kinder than this. At least she wouldn't have remembered after going through the Echoed Plane. "So, we'll show you to the library, then your room. Sound good?" Roman asked. "I suppose." Pyrrha couldn't hide her dead tone. The Oath had destroyed her as it had so many others. And it wasn't even the only Unwoven-based order in Nytheris. Her parents had wanted her to suffer for wasting resources and time by being born. The Oath was a meat grinder that nobody walked away from unscathed—mentally or physically. Roman nodded and started chatting idly about the various baubles they passed. She had no interest in such trinkets. They were only to show off wealth. After so long in the Oath with few possessions, she saw such things as superfluous and unnecessary, nobody needed them, let alone so many. Had she not been Unwoven, she would no doubt think differently. She probably would've had many beautiful jewel sets and matching gowns. But no. All other earthly possessions fit in one bag slung across her body. They came to a large set of double doors that Roman opened. "This is the library and where you'll be spending most of your ime." He eyed her. "You got any good clothes?" “Define good." Her tone remained dead and flat. "Not…like what you're wearing. Won’t do good to have someone in my service looking raggedy." She shook her head. "My clothes are all charity from people who couldn't use them anymore. It's all No Man's Hearth can afford. It barely survives.” Like the people in it. The Oath didn’t care about the injured who left; all it cared about was bodies and they could be ground and broke in service of Nytheris. No Man’s Hearth only hung on because the Kaelith residents were tired of Casthewn clogging the slums and panhandling. So many good people, broke to nothing just because they didn’t have magic. They were all destroyed by the Oath indiscriminately. The people of Kaelith wanted no reminders of the reason their city existed in the first place. Those broken by the Oath weren’t even people in the residents’ minds. "You'll go out shopping with Neo tomorrow then! A whole new wardrobe from the ground up! How does that sound?" Roman smiled at her. Too good to be true, but she didn't voice it. This man was too nice. He must want something from her. The question was what. She was a Casthewn with Frayrot. Not a lot to offer anybody. "How about we go to your room now?" She gave a mechanical nod and followed him again. They headed down more practical passages with less flourishes, though still well furnished and comfortable. He came to a halt and motioned to a door. "This will be your room. Furnish and change it to your whims." It took a moment for her brain to catch up. "I…don't have to share with anybody else?" Her voice quavered. The Oath ran on a strict barracks system. Even the highest ranking officers didn't get their own rooms; they just shared with fewer people. She hadn't known true privacy since leaving House Nikos. Well. She had an individual room at No Man's Hearth, but the walls were so thin she could hear her neighbors shifting at night. She would hardly call that privacy. Roman nodded and smiled. "All yours; have at." He offered a flashy bow then left her alone in the hall. She fumbled a bit to get inside, but she closed the door once inside. It was a comfortable room, though barren of personal affects. The mattress…wasn't straw. The blankets were more than the coarsest wool. She marveled over the soft linen sheets and much softer wool blankets covering them. For most people, it wouldn't be a big deal, but it meant the world to her. She hadn't had soft blankets since about seven years old. The Oath cut as many corners as it could to save money. Unwoven weren't people in the eyes of the Magisterium. Their comfort didn't matter. She sat down on the bed and opened her bag, taking out the battered, patched clothes. Aside from her dress uniform, these sorts of clothes were all she knew at this point. It would be beyond surreal to have non-charity clothes. What would it be like to have a whole new wardrobe? She couldn't stop the giddiness passing through her body. How had her fortunes changed so much in the past 24 hours? It all felt like some dreams he never wanted to wake up from. She wanted to lay down on the bed and sleep, but her stomach burbled. With as much as Roman flaunted his wealth, he had to have actually good food. She was used to the bare minimum when it came to food . Field rations in the Oath had been awful while No Man's Hearth hadn't been much better. She knew good meals existed due to her childhood, but she couldn't remember what it tasted like. It had been far, far too long. All she could remember was hardtack and gruel at this point. She hoped for at least a bit of fresh bread, but wouldn't let her hopes get too high in general. It was never wise to wish too much; to dream too big would only lead to being crushed. Especially after the Oath. She put her meager possessions away, then grabbed her crutches. She opened the door and looked around and was glad to get directions to the kitchens. Thankfully she was able to get there without incident. Knowing how to find one's way was important in the Oath, so a house was no big deal. Plus, it was far smaller than Nikos Manor if her memory served her. Then again, things had a way of feeling bigger as a child, she had noticed. "Hello, miss. Who are ya bein'?" One of the cooks asked. Her voice was heavily accented. Sounded like Uln Dareth if she wasn't mistaken. The war with the slave uprising had really destabilised the country, but she didn't know more than that. Pyrrha explained shortly about herself. "I know it's past supper, but is there anything I can eat?" Her stomach growled to accentuate the point. She could take no for an answer. If one overate their rations in the Oath or skipped a meal at the Hearth, they simply wouldn't eat. But considering this was a luxury manor, she hoped meals wouldn't be quite as strict. The woman nodded. "Go sit down and I will be seeing what I can find you." Pyrrha sat at a small table to wait,watching the kitchen's bustle. The hearth fires remained at full capacity. It felt like the hottest summer day, but after a chilly morning, it was welcome. The Hearth didn't have enough wood to go around in the winter; they would freeze in their own rooms. Seeing this much wood everyone had to stay in the sitting room until bed or else burned at once was astonishing. It was a flaunt of wealth in its own way. At least, to her, it was. The woman soon came back with a tray of food. On it rested a bowl of soup, several pieces of thick-cut bread,some cold bacon, and a few flat cakes. To her, this was a feast. "I won't be able to eat all of this," she confessed. Her stomach roiled at the smells coming off the tray. "Be eating what you can. The rest will be going to the pigs." The woman smiled before leaving Pyrrha to her food. She didn't know where to start. The bacon? Fresh meat was basically nonexistent in the Oath and at the Hearth. Soup? Better than gruel. Bread? Fresh from that morning no doubt. She opted for one flatcake and a slice of bacon. Probably from that morning’s breakfast. She rotated between everything until she felt on the edge fo throwing up. She had barely eaten even a quarter of what she’d been given. At least it wouldn’t go to waste. She leaned back in her chair, head bobbing. The sheer volume of food made her want to pass out. And the flavors… So unlike the bland food she was accustomed to. It almost hurt her tongue, it was so flavorful. But she pushed herself up, thanked the woman, and headed back to her now-dark room. She turned on the illuminator by the door on low so she could find her bed. She sat down then laid down. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

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Light filtered in through the windows. Pyrrha's eyes fluttered open and she looked around. A dream... This had to be a dream from the Reverie Isles. Then she remembered. This was her room. That man had rescued her from No Man's Hearth. There had to be a reason, right? Nobody went around rescuing Casthewn out of the kindness of their heart. If that was the case, he would have taken all of the people from the Hearth. But he had taken only her. There were clearly ulterior motives here, but what they were, she couldn't divine. Yet. She got out of bed and changed into a new outfit. At the Hearth, they could wear the same outfit for a few days. She had a feeling that wouldn't be accepted here,though. This was a wealthy place and even the servants dressed nicely. She looked like the charity case that she truly was. It stung to think about, but it was the truth. She was the lowest of the low in Nytheri society and it showed. She found her way to the kitchens again, though they were far busier than last night. Bustling servants almost knocked her over. She received more than one glare, but it wasn't her fault. The crutches were unwieldy and made movement difficult. She wasn't trying to get in anybody's way. All she could do was feel her heart sink at the anger. She approached the table she had sat at the night before, only to get shooed away by an elder woman. "Who are you and what are you doing in my kitchens? I don't appreciate the likes of you beggars—" "This young lady is no beggar," came a smooth, charming voice. Roman approached, a tight smile on his face. "Miriam, she's here to help Nullan with the bookkeeping. I know her clothes are rough but that'll be amended later today." He looked at Pyrrha. "I would recommend taking your meals in the servants' hall. "His smile was less forced now. "Let me show you where to go." He motioned and she nodded. The woman bowed her head. "Forgive me, Master Roman. Is she from the Hearth as well?" He nodded. "Yes. She's new to the household but/other member. Understood?" His tone was firm but even, not unreasonable. He seemed to be firm with his servants but not cruel. That was better than a lot of Great Houses that treated their Bound like they weren’t human (or Faunus). "Yes, Master Roman." The woman curtsied and headed off. Roman turned to Pyrrha. "Forgive Miriam; she's been with the household fora longtime. She's seen a lot of people randomly walk into the kitchens, under the influence of something or another. We give to those less fortunate quite often and that makes them think they're entitled to the manor." He smiled. "We'll get you a wardrobe fitting of House Evadris later. For now, food." He started walking and she followed. They went through a side passage and arrived in a large hall. It wasn't opulent, but it was comfortable. "This is where you can eat. You will be above the servants, but most household members eat here. Neo and I have our own place we take our meals in.” “May I ask a question?” she asked, voice hushed. He tiled his head slightly. "Yes?" “Why only me? Everyone at the Hearth needs help…so why only me?" She probably shouldn't have been so bold so soon. But she needed to know. Roman gave a sad smile. “Can’t help every Casthewn sadly. And if I attempted to sponsor the Hearth, the Oath would pull what little they gave. If something happened to House Evardis, the Hearth would cease to exist.” Pyrrha frowned. That certainly sounded like the Oath she knew… They would let the Hearth go under if possible. “It comes down to what we need. Our last bookkeeping assistant moved up the ranks and left House Evadris.” "I see." Well, that was a satisfactory answer in her mind."There will also be a surprise stop before you get your clothes with Neo." He smiled, an enigma, and stepped away before she could inquire further. She shook her head and sat down. A younger girl, maybe twelve, brought over a plate of bread slices along with a crock of butter. "While you wait, "she said with a curtsy before hastening off. The bread was still warm. It took a lot of self-control on Pyrrha's part to not wolf them all down, but she knew filling up on bread would do her body no good. She needed more than bread. It thankfully didn't take too long for the full meal to come out. The figure following the young girl made Pyrrha's stomach churn. It was Miriam. The girl scurried off once she placed the tray in front of Pyrrha. "Mind if I take a seat?" Miriam pointed to the chair across from Pyrrha. She shrugged, having a feeling Miriam merely asked asa formality. The older woman sat and sighed. "I hope you can forgive me. I am simply too used to those under the influence of all manner of substances breaking into the house at all hours of the day. thought you were one of them." Pyrrha didn't say anything. She was used to being treated as lesser than, but being accused of breaking into somebody's home? That was an affront and beyond disrespectful. She knew she was a charity case, but even so,.. She couldn't help but be incredibly offended. Especially after Roman had been so gracious to take her in. She hadn't even sorted working for him yet, and she was being disrespected. "Mmnn" was her reply. Miriam sighed. "I suppose I deserve it. Enjoy your meal."She got up and left Pyrrha alone. Pyrrha might accept the apology later, but definitely not right now. She had done literally nothing wrong except look shabby. She was just trying to fill her belly—which she assumed she was allowed to do, so long as she worked here. Granted. she hadn't started working yet, but it had only been an evening and a morning. She'd start work later that day, no doubt. As she munched on her breakfast. Neo sat across from her. Ready for a shopping spree? she wrote on the slate. “I suppose," Pyrrha said, none too enthused. This wasn't her idea of fun. She knew many noble ladies loved a good shopping trip. It was yet another way to flaunt wealth. She didn't understand the obsession with needing to do that. It made no sense to her after having spent the majority of her life in the Oath. "Do I have to get dresses?" Not exactly practical on the Ba-He field. She hadn't worn one since girlhood. Neo shook her head. Whatever you want. She giggled silently. We do have a secret stop before clothes, though. Mirth filled Neo's eyes. "And you won't tell me what it is." Neo shook her head and Pyrrha sighed. House Evadris sure loved its secrets, huh? She supposed Roman's earlier explanation made sense. but something about this whole situation still felt off. What did he have to gain from helping her? Something was rotten here, but she didn't know what. He seemed nice enough as did Neo. But she still couldn't shake the feeling something was off. She finished what she could of the meal, but it was much the same as the previous night. The girl collected the remains, then scurried off again. Neo stood, practically vibrating with excitement. Pyrrha sighed. 'Lead the way." She was pretty sure Neo would have been chatting up a storm had she been able to. She was glad Neo couldn't talk her ear off. There was no room for idle chatter in the Oath. T wasn't a silent monastic order, but it might as well have been. Talking wasn't forbidden or punished i there simply wasn't anything to talk about. That, and everyone was too broken. As well as the fact that forming relationships wasn't worth it. People died so frequently that grief had no place. She had seen so many people die that she was numb to it at this point. The only way to get honor for one's Great House was to die. She had failed at even that basic task. They arrived at the garage and Neo led her to a pink carriage. They were helped in, then settled down. All Pyrrha could do was look out the window and hope Neo didn't want her life story on the way.