"Du Quam Tavhaii! You're finally here." Umdochar broke the silence, eager to set the tone of the conversation himself.
"Du Quam Umdochar." Nubejul regarded him. Once he had satisfied his spirit father with his smiles, he turned his attention to Toruaz, a gaze fixed evenly, bringing a regal air hung about him, almost catching Toruaz off guard.
He bowed with little delay. "Du Quam Tavhaii."
Nubejul's face broke into a wide smile, cheeks reddening. He wore the traditional robes of Du Quams, littered with its insignias. Toruaz believed it vaguely resembled an eye—an almond shape, with another almond-shaped slit dividing it halfway, like an eye. Though Nubejul did not have the armored appearance of Umdochar. He dressed lightly, squarely, with jewels at his head, a crown.
Nubejul dressed simply, but elegantly, for a Du Quam. It does him credit.
"You look like you haven't changed one bit!" His sandy warm voice sounded like the Nubejul whom Toruaz knew then. It was reassuring, at least. He had one friend in this temple.
"Ah, I didn't tell you, Du Quam Umdochar," Nubejul sighed blissfully. "I had been acquainted with Lord Rozkamoro several years ago. Here, in this very temple. It was his uncle the Oronofurdjal—you know him already—who brought him here."
"Hm." Umdochar never asked questions. Not the ones he wanted nor needed answers for. "I will be seeing him later."
The old Du Quam turned to the large painting of Nubejul. "Are you pleased with the portrait, Du Quam Tavhaii?" With the true Nubejul to draw comparisons from, Toruaz could clearly see the expert eye and hand that went into the picture. Intimate details known only by one so familiar with the regent. He could not fathom how much those costed. He would not be so presumptuous as to conjure a price based on what he knew. He didn't know a lot.
He would listen, that was his job.
"It's perfect," Nubejul beamed again. His cheeks reddened whenever he did. He had a charm that incited others to treasure him and his smiles. "You don't know how honored I am to have my face on this wall, next to you and the great Du Quams of the past—I can't begin to name my happiness."
Umdochar chuckled. It seemed they would not have minded if Toruaz kept to the back, sticking to his reminders to take up as little space and volume in the minds of others. He had no desire of engaging where he was not needed. Building the habit itself was swift.
Nubejul—bless his young heart—took fortune upon him, sparing a look.
"Toruaz hasn't seen the Sijarkes before in person." He called him by his first name. "Don't worry, you are not alone—I haven't either! But we shall meet her soon. Du Quam Umdochar, however..."
"She seemed more like a crocodile to me," Umdochar said without delight. "A very irritable one."
"A crocodile? How amusing!" Nubejul could hardly suppress his laughter, doubling over. He was truly easy to please unlike his spirit father Umdochar.
"Did you receive the impression that she was friendly? I have not met a creature like her who'd always attempted on chomping my limbs off at each encounter."
"Oh, do not jest, Du Quam Umdochar! Not here. You said she could hear things from afar," Nubejul croaked out between his chuckles. He wiped a tear, gasping for air as he straightened. "Oh, I wonder if she could actually turn people to precious stone with just a glance?"
"A glance? Is that something that should concern us?" Toruaz finally spoke up. He was not accustomed to being put in possible harm's way.
"No, no. Not really, Lord Rozkamoro. The Dommas are civilized gods. They pose us no threat. I just mean it as, something we might be at awe of, should we be witnesses of its truth." Nubejul shook his head, eager to ease any such worry.
After a pause, Toruaz knew he had to ask the one question he's had ever since he was invited to serve at court. "And might I ask something?"
"We have time. Ask away." They had an hour or two before the Sijarkes' inauguration. Even Umdochar seemed interested.
"Why is it that the Sijarkes was also given the seat of the Tirkju'a?"
"Hm?" Nubejul hummed as if he'd never questioned the phenomenon itself.
"Wouldn't it be more fitting for a Domme with centuries worth of field expertise like, for example, the Avigrijer? It's a bit of an odd choice, isn't it?"
"Is it?" Nubejul's expression was hard to read.
Toruaz looked at them both, these two Du Quams of the same succession. Their faces had the same unreadable expression. It was only after a while that Umdochar thought an answer was due:
"I'm not allowed to divulge this information, but I'll tell you this, just so you know—It might have something to do with how the other Dommes might behave upon gaining hold of such a status."
This did not make sense, Toruaz had no reason to let it go.
"So he chose to give it to one who is inexperienced?"
"There's always a learning curve to everything," Nubejul interjected, now seeming put off. He took a second to recompose himself before he continued. "The Sijarkes was mentored by the Tirkju'a himself! In theory, she must definitely be capable."
He gave Toruaz a prescriptive look. "It is not within our means to make conclusions we cannot fully comprehend ourself."
"I know it is quite worrisome. What with the recent war with Sesserja and the decreasing interest in state compliance to the constitution. I, too, have no clue how the Sijarkes'll handle things from here." Umdochar coughed, bending over. Nubejul was at his side within a blink. "The Tirkju'a and I shouldered these matters as best as we could, and now, it will be the burden of the Sijarkes, and yours, too...my spirit son."
It was familiar. His eyes as he looked upon Nubejul. The eyes of a father, a master, a mentor. He adored Nubejul as much—or even greater—than everyone else did, even Toruaz.
"For two years you managed without him," Toruaz muttered. He couldn't help but sympathize.
"I've served him for 284 years. Do you believe I wouldn't learn a thing or two?" Umdochar said indignantly. Sighing, he continued. "Admittedly, though, I found that even I am still not enough."
Nubejul held the beads dangling from Umdochar's headdress, holding them out for Toruaz to see as it shimmered in the light of the sun's rays. "A complete set of 284 beads in every string, right before you, Rozkamoro. I used to clean them for him everyday as his protegee. He lost not a single one!"
"My passing will come sooner or later."
Toruaz and Nubejul looked at Umdochar, a mixture of concern and masked sorrow on their faces. "Until then, I will make sure Du Quam Tavhaii's first few years in position are without any major incidents or tribulations. That is my priority."
Nubejul smiled softly, shaking his head.
To Toruaz, Umdochar said grimly:
"I'm not certain you'll see many major changes during your service, Rozkamoro; however long you happen to stick around." Then he coughed again. After he had fixed himself, he looked out the window, out towards the rest of the Quamship temple, a dazed look in his acid green eyes.
"The very first time in Domminical history that a Domma sitting in two Domminical seats will be ruling."
"We're as surprised as anyone," Nubejul affirmed Umdochar's reluctance.
"What does the Dove see? Of the Sijarkes? Of us?" Umdochar muttered to himself, completely in a daze now. Nubejul caught Toruaz eye as he was about to ask yet another question. Nubejul shook his head.
Without warning, Umdochar cried, "I feel her near."
Nubejul stepped back, shoulders raising. He took a deep breath. "I can feel her, too. Incredible!"
"The Sijarkes?" Toruaz needed to be sure he wasn't just assuming again.
"Of course it would be the Sijarkes...!" Umdochar snapped, whipping around to face them both in wrath.
From a distance, a voice so shrill echoed, which drove Toruaz' nerves into a cold abyss, his spine almost melting into liquid.
"WHERE IIIIS HE?"