Legacy 13

Mar. 16th, 2016 03:50 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows Legacy 12.

Hakapa and Tizanna arrived separately shortly after breakfast. Fortunately for Baranyi’s self-esteem she had the kitchen cleaned up before they arrived because she was certain that the older woman could tell the state of her housekeeping by merely stepping over the threshold.

In contrast to Tizanna’s quiet absorption of information, Hakapa was all news. “I had two visitors before breakfast this morning,” he told Buldaveho cheerfully. “The first one was that Thiwada woman. On my doorstep barely after dawn to make me a reduced offer on the house because of fire damage – just to spare me the hassle of fixing the place up again.”

“Kind of her,” commented Buldaveho drily.

“Oh, yes. At half the price she offered me before,” agreed Hakapa. “Positively neighbourly of her. Then, after she left the reeve came by and wanted to talk about whether you’re in the habit of keeping flammable liquids in the house.”

“Wait, what?” Buldaveho looked confused.

“Something related to pine tar, apparently,” Hakapa hand waved away the details. “Burns a treat apparently. He did let drop too that the fire seemed to have started in two different places. When he asked me if there was anything he should know about, I may have mentioned my earlier visitor….”

Tizanna’s eyes narrowed as she considered things for a moment. “And now might be the time to go around there to find out why the girls weren’t safely inside when the storm broke last night. The thing is, we can’t really make other arrangements for them unless we can prove Thiwada isn’t looking after them.”

“Could the house be taken back off her?” Baranyi knew that the rules about these things were different to back home but she wasn’t entirely sure what and where the differences were.

“No.” Tizanna sounded dissatisfied and added, “Besides, for all that she’s Gulda’s closest living adult relative, she will still have had to get her husband to own it for her.

“Then she wants to buy the other house for him to own too?” Baranyi couldn’t quite make that piece fit.

“She told me she wants it for her younger half-brother from her mother’s second marriage,” offered Hakapa.

“And because she and Gulda were related through Thiwada’s father, that means this brother is no relation to Gulda at all, which is why he didn’t inherit the house,” added Tizanna.

“I can understand wanting to put your family back together, but arson? Particularly if you’re trying to do it on the quiet because the authorities were the ones who separated you.” Baranyi spread her hands expressively and added, “That’s neither smart nor sensible.”

“People aren’t always either,” Buldaveho said, “and one doesn’t necessarily include the other. Besides,” he put a consoling hand on Baranyi’s shoulder, “you don’t have to make sense of it – that’s the reeve’s job and assumes that there is sense to be had, and not random stupidity.” He saw the way Baranyi was looking at his hand and asked, “What?”

With a quiet voice she said in carefully pronounced Bitraini, “Please don’t do that unless you mean it.”

Buldaveho jerked his hand away with a shame faced expression, “I’m sorry, I forget that shoulders count as intimate space. My apologies.” He added, perhaps unnecessarily, to the other two, “There really have to have been a couple of private conversations and agreements between us, that we haven’t had, before I can do that.”

“Or we can let people think that I had my way with you while you were too tired and upset to resist,” came back Baranyi with a suddenly straighter posture.

Tizanna asked in mock shock, “You mean you didn’t? Do I have to give you one of Aunty Tizanna’s facts of life talks?”

Baranyi riposted, “You mean about the proper treatment of guests?”

“No, on how to encourage a shy suitor,” said Tizanna bluntly.

Buldaveho and Baranyi both turned pink.

“Now, Tizanna,” interrupted Hakapa, “just because everyone else can see how well they fit together doesn’t mean that they’re ready to take the leap. If they want to lay their foundations carefully, you leave them alone to do it.”

“Hakapa,” said Buldaveho evenly, “perhaps you and I should go around to my place and see what can be salvaged of my things.”

“Bring them back here,” offered Baranyi. “It’s not like I have any other use for my second spare room. Meanwhile Tizanna and I can take the girls around to their old house and find out why they weren’t inside last night.”

“If we’re lucky, the reeve will still be there,” said Tizanna with a nod. “I’d like to see that conversation.”



This is now followed by Legacy 14.

Legacy 11

Feb. 15th, 2016 07:09 pm
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 10. As always, I would suggest that you read the webserials of Edally Academy by [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig - this series is a fanfic of that world.


It was Tizanna who turned up with the spare clothes from Hakapa for Buldaveho to borrow. “Hakapa’s wife looked these out for Buldaveho to borrow,” she said briskly with an underlying chuckle. “Hakapa hasn’t worn them in years, there’s not enough room in them to allow for his midsection spread, but we won’t tell him that – he still thinks he’s Buldaveho’s shape, dear man that he is.”

“It’s kind of him to lend them,” answered Baranyi. She hesitated a moment, then asked, “While you’re here, would you mind coming in and giving me a second opinion on something?”

“Of course.” Tizanna smiled and added as she came through the door, “Hakapa tells me you have Gulda’s granddaughters here tonight as well. How are Benna and Gulya?”

“Cleaner than they were,” answered Baranyi. “Determined not to be separated, and I think someone has been threatening to. Possibly to stop them telling someone something. They’ve been eating better than I would expect if they’d been living completely rough.”

Tizanna nodded, “So someone’s been feeding them. I hope. What I want to know is, why aren’t they living in their own house?”

“Is it their house?” Baranyi went on, “How do the Bitrani treat such things? Did their grandmother leave a will? If she did, does it count?”

Tizanna paused and her lips twitched in frustration. “It’s entirely possible,” she said clearly and carefully, “that for legal purposes, the girls may not count at all. Do you have times when you want to strangle your far distant ancestors?”

“Only every time some man brings up what might happen when the Emperor passes on,” returned Baranyi crisply.

“Oh? Aaah, that’s right,” Tizanna nodded understandingly. “I suppose we can only deal with what’s before us and the Emperor’s still well and it’s too late tonight to deal with the girls’ issues.” They’d wound up in the laundry, by passing the kitchen where the girls had been seated at the table with a piece of paper each and some drawing leads. “What did you want my opinion on?”

“This smell on Buldaveho’s own clothes,” Baranyi answered. “It seems to be the smoke from his house.”

Tizanna put the clean clothes she was carrying down on the ironing table and picked the freshly washed shirt up to sniff at it. “What is this? I’ve smelt burning houses before, but this is different.”

“To me it’s the smell you get when you burn the solvent they use for cleaning oil paint brushes,” replied Baranyi. “It might be quite a normal thing for a fisherman to have in his home, but I can’t, for the life of me, think why.”

“Neither can I,” answered Tizanna, taking another sniff, “and this stuff burns well?”

“It’s quite dangerous if you’re not careful,” said Baranyi. “My brothers used to make fireballs on purpose when they were disposing of the used stuff.”

“I think that in the morning, you should speak to Hakapa and Buldaveho about this,” said Tizanna. “They’ll know how to handle it.”



This is now followed by Legacy 12.

Legacy 10

Feb. 7th, 2016 04:23 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 9.


It was over an hour before Buldaveho came back, looking shaken and worried, and accompanied by their mutual landlord, Hakapa. “It was my place that was on fire,” Buldaveho said tiredly as he stood on Baranyi’s doorstep. The rain had stopped so the two men weren’t getting any wetter by staying out there. “Lightning strike, although why it hit my place….”

“Three other places in that block are taller,” agreed Hakapa, “and the lightning rod should have stopped there being a fire. It could be worse though, doesn’t look structural but we’ll need to get a builder in to check.”

“So where are you sleeping tonight?” Baranyi got the pursed lipped look that Buldaveho already knew went with her being practical.

“I’ve offered him a bedroll on the rug in my main room,” said Hakapa. “It’s the least I can do – I really thought that lightning rod would do the trick.”

“I have two spare bedrooms,” pointed out Baranyi, “and the girls want to share the one. You could use the other. I have the spare sheets, and if I wash what you’re wearing then it should be dry by morning – there’s room beside the girls’ clothes in the drying room out the back.”

“There’s soup!” The two girls, now clean and each wearing one of Baranyi’s clean painting tunics instead of a dress, had arrived from the kitchen to stand one on either side of their hostess. It was the blonde who spoke. “It’s got rice and dumplings.”

“Benna and I helped make it,” added her darker twin. “With fish, and milk, and butter, and vegetables.”

“Assuming you don’t mind spending the evening wrapped up in a blanket or a sheet,” added Baranyi. “My tunics fit the girls, but I’m afraid they’re not an option for you.”

“The bed here would probably be better for you than the floor at my place,” pointed out Hakapa, “and I can send someone around with a couple of sets of spare clothes for you to borrow – so you don’t have to wear a blanket or a sheet.”

“There’s fresh hot water for you to have a bath and get rid of the smell of smoke,” added Baranyi in an unconsciously seductive tone. Buldaveho put it down to her being relatively new to Bitrani.

“Go on,” Hakapa urged him, pushing the younger man on the shoulder. “It’s a better offer than mine, if only because you won’t wind up with a crick in your back from lying on the floor, and you never know, she might be a better cook than my wife!”

“All right!” Buldaveho gave in. “I surrender – as long as you send those clothes around, Hakapa,” and with that he stumbled in, suddenly bone tired.



This is now followed by Legacy 11.

Legacy 9

Jan. 26th, 2016 02:03 pm
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 8.


“She’s right,” Buldaveho said firmly. “You two and your things are going to be very wet, very soon, if you stay here.”

“But we don’t know her,” the blonde girl told him.

“And we only know you to see,” added the dark haired one.

“And the water’s rising,” put in Baranyi casting a look the flood being created by too much water for the opening it was trying to move through. “Please, I can’t leave you out here in this. In fact,” she added with some asperity aimed at herself, “I shouldn’t be leaving you out here on your own in any circumstances. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realise that you were living here.”

“We’re not going to go to an orphanage,” warned the dark haired one warned her.

“Or anywhere else where they’ll tell us we’re not even sisters,” added the blonde.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Baranyi. “Now, please, come with us. The water is getting higher.” Her sentence was punctuated by a loud crack of thunder.

The blonde girl chanced a look at the drain and said worriedly, “That is beginning to look awfully full. Maybe we should?”

Her dark haired sister took a look too. “We could, if you both promise you’re not going to put us in an orphanage or split us up.”

Baranyi and Buldaveho looked at each other, he nodded to her, and then they both said to the girls, “We promise.”

It took a worryingly short time to get the girls’ possessions bundled up but even so, the water was already lapping at the lean-to’s side when they scrambled out to join the two adults under the umbrellas.

“I think it’s safe to say that my spare room is going to be better than floating away in this,” said Baranyi cheerfully. “Let’s get you inside and fed.”

The four of them had just reached Baranyi’s front door when there was another, massive crack of thunder followed almost immediately by an explosion. Buldaveho’s head whipped around and he caught sight of a plume of smoke reaching up above the intervening roofs. “That looks like it’s near my place. I have to go!” He thrust the umbrella he was holding back at Baranyi and added, “I’ll come back and let you know what it is, if I can.” Then he was gone, running in the direction of his home.

“Soup,” said Baranyi firmly, “with dumplings. Lots of soup. Someone’s going to need it, if we can’t eat it all. Let’s get you two clean and then you can help me cook,” and with that, she ushered the girls into the house.



This is now followed by Legacy 10.

Legacy 8

Jan. 11th, 2016 08:27 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 7 and continues my happy little fanfic wanderings in [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig's world which includes her Edally Academy serials.

What Baranyi did was to start paying particular attention to where and when she saw the two girls in question. She confirmed her suspicions that they must either be being turned out of doors as soon as it was light out or that they were, in fact, never indoors. A little more poking around, and not that much more really, was all it took to find the lean-to in the dead-end alley behind her back garden wall. Baranyi didn’t think the young occupants had realised the significance of the drain that also occupied that back alley, and so she kept an eye on the weather while she waited for an opportunity to talk to Tizanna about them.

A little rain wasn’t going to be a problem and so she didn’t think anything of it when the clouds started forming the next afternoon. She still went down to the dock to paint the sunset, both for the challenge of capturing the pre-storm light as the sun went down and because, well, Buldaveho. The weather was still only mildly threatening as he walked her home, chatting as he carried her easel for her.

“Your Bitrani is beginning to sound like you come from Gaeta,” he warned her.

“I speak Calenyena like someone from three days south of Lannamer,” she shot back at him. “Better I should speak Bitrani like someone from Gaeta than I should sound as if I learnt it all from a book three days south of Lannamer.”

“There’s that,” he agreed. “Of course, all Bitrani’s provincial these days, but our Bitrani’s a bit more provincial than some places’.”

“It’s big enough,” replied Baranyi.

“Would you want to live here forever?” The question hung there, suggesting other questions that could come later, depending on her answer.

“That would depend on my incentive,” that was as leading as she was prepared to go in answer to what might have been idle curiosity, “but I would always want to visit my family up north sometimes. Perhaps not while it’s snowing.”

“Agh, snow and sleet.” He shuddered dramatically. “The first time I ran into those I realised why the Calenyena wear so many layers. I never expected to go north when I left here back then, shot my mouth off a bit about what I intended to do, but none of that turned out the way I expected.”

“Oh?” She was interested.

“A long story for another time,” he said with a lazy smile, “because now we’re back to your house.”

“We are.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for helping me home again.”

“My pleasure. Let me carry this inside for you?”

A hesitation from both of them because she hadn’t asked him in before.

“Yes, please.” Baranyi unlocked the front door and let him in. “If you can put it in here,” she led him into the smaller front room where she was keeping her art supplies and her paintings, “and lean it against the wall there.”

He’d just put it down where she’d directed and she’d just carefully set down her newest paintings, her paints and brushes, and there was an almighty crack of thunder. It was followed immediately by the sound of rain dumping itself on the roof and the ground outside.

Baranyi remembered the girls. “Oh no. There’s something I have to do right now. Grab the other umbrella if you want to come with me.” She was already back at the door, pulling her dyed umbrella from the stand beside the door, leaving the segmented one for him if he wanted to use it.

She stepped outside, putting up the umbrella as she did so, and Buldaveho followed her with the other. “Where are we going?” He added, “You do realise that it’s going to be out of the gutters in a few minutes, don’t you?”

“That’s the problem.” She wasn’t running because she didn’t want to fall over, but she was hurrying enough that he had to stretch his step a little to keep up as she led the way into the back lane behind her house. The water was already gushing along the gutter and beginning to spread across the alley. Baranyi strode up to the lean-to and rapped hard on the roof. “Girls, you need to gather up your things and come inside with me now.”

Two small, grubbyish faces peered out of the makeshift shelter. “Why?” It was the blonde one who demanded that.

“It’s raining out there, and we’re dry in here,” added the dark one.

“Not for long,” Barany told them practically. “Even if your roof and walls hold, the water in the gutter going to the drain is rising and you’ll get flooded out soon. You really need to come with me now.”



This is now followed by Legacy 9.

Legacy 7

Jan. 5th, 2016 09:30 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 6.


Buldaveho continued walking Baranyi home every few days for the next several weeks. They seemed to meet unexpectedly when out around the town too, and did a little of their separate domestic shopping together. Baranyi knew that Tizanna and Mira gossiped about them to all their friends, not just each other, but the two women were encouraging.

“He has his own berth and boat, remember,” Tizanna told her. “That’s not to be sneezed at. Plus he’s healthy, with a few years to go before he’s in his prime – if you were to marry him, you’d not be taking on an invalid.”

There was one woman though who glared at Baranyi without speaking to her every time they crossed paths and who glared even more fiercely when they ran across each other while Baranyi was in Buldaveho’s company. Baranyi had no idea who she was and so asked Tizanna.

“That’s Thiwada, Gulda-who-died’s closest living adult relative. She and her family moved here to take care of the house and Gulda’s granddaughters.” Tizanna looked around quickly and added in a low conspiratorial tone, “She’s Cevati Bitrani and so much better than the rest of us, in her eyes at least. Gulda told me a few years ago that her family back home had had to move because their enclave was broken up. Thiwada’s one of those relatives and I heard she’s trying to buy the house Buldaveho lives in from his landlord, so her brother and his family can move into it.”

“If she does that, then Buldaveho can’t buy it back!” Baranyi looked around too before she added, “Aren’t there rules about people from a dispersed enclave trying to live near each other?” A pause, then she added, “Should I know Gulda?”

Tizanna shook her head. “Probably not. Her last illness put her in her bed about the time you arrived. But that’s not all. There’s something odd going on with Gulda’s granddaughters too. Ever since Thiwada moved in I haven’t been seeing the twins where I expect them to be.”

Baranyi asked, “Would they be about eight? One blonde and one dark?”

Tizanna nodded, “That’s them.”

“I’ve been seeing them in the middle of the day, and wondering why they’re not in school,” said Baranyi. “Sometimes when I go out to paint the dawn light they’re around too…. That really doesn’t sound good, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” agreed Tizanna. “The question is, what do we do about it?”



This is now followed by Legacy 8.

Legacy 6

Dec. 30th, 2015 05:22 pm
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 5. The Calenyena and Bitrani words for green come from [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig's post Lexember Day 29: Colors.

As always in this world, [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig has the last word on the canonicity of anything.



The next time he came over to her when he’d finished work on his boat he asked, “So, what did your friends say?”

She kept painting but a dimple developed beside her mouth as she said, “They said I should get to know you better to find out if I like you.”

“Among other things, I was told that you and Andulo spend most of three mornings a week talking about colour.” He smiled and asked, “”How can there be that much to say about colour?”

“You’re a fisherman and you spend a lot of time talking to other fishermen about your work, don’t you?” The dimple was still beside her mouth.

“Well, yes,” he admitted.

“So how can there that much to say about fish?” She turned and gave him a full smile going back to her work. “Actually, we spent the first week making sure that I really did know what the main Bitrani colours are – just in case my teacher back home was a bit slapdash and only told me the convenient thing.”

“How can colour be different in different languages? A fish is a fish.” Buldaveho admired the way that her four dark braids were looped up to keep her hair out of the way. It looked…nice on her.

“Well yes, except both languages have names for different shades of colour that the other doesn’t even recognise,” Baranyi mixed something on her palette and dabbed in some shadows. “But do gomol and miagermo begin and end in the same place?”

“You mean before they become other colours?” Baranyi took a glance at him and the tall fisherman was getting that cross-eyed look again.

“Exactly.” She nodded encouragingly.

“So that’s the sort of thing you and Andulo talk about?” The almost cross-eyed look hadn’t gone away.

“Yes, and our different ideas of what colours contrast best with each other and which ones complement each other.” Baranyi looked at the picture in front of her and decided it was done. The short dusk was almost gone, so she started to pack up.

“Don’t Calenyena use everything with everything?” Buldaveho sounded both confused and amused.

“I suppose it can look like that to Bitrani,” Baranyi admitted, “but there are rules.”

“Perhaps I could help you carry your things home and you could try to help me understand them on the way?” Buldaveho smiled and hoped he didn’t look too intimidating or smell too fishy.

Baranyi smiled back. “I think I might like that. Thank you.”



This is now followed by Legacy 7.

Legacy 5

Dec. 27th, 2015 02:21 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 4.

The next morning Baranyi ran into Mira at the rice store. It had taken no planning at all, in fact she’d only just been thinking of how she could talk to her friend on a day she didn’t have a lesson with Andulo when she turned around and there the older woman was. After exchanging greetings, Baranyi asked, “Do you know a fisherman named Buldaveho? His boat berth’s next to where I’ve been painting in the evenings.”

“I knew his mother and older brother better,” admitted Mira, as they waited in turn to be served. “Buldaveho went away for a few years, I think he and Geaholo either argued too much to work together after their father died or agreed that the boat couldn’t support the two of them and their mother. Maybe both. Then Geaholo drowned and his younger brother came home to look after their mother.” Mira sighed. “Genna died too, almost a year and a half ago now. Buldaveho’s alone in the house, no mother, no brother, no wife….”

“Talking to me a few times and asking me if I wanted to know him well enough for him to use my familiar name is hardly a statement of intent,” protested Baranyi, blushing all the way through her ears.

Mira asked practically, “Well, are you looking for a husband? He is available, and he owns the boat and the berth, even if his father sold the house before he died.” The older woman looked at her speculatively.

“I didn’t think about it at all,” answered Baranyi. She then added reflectively, “If I’d thought about it, I would have assumed that here was just like back home – anyone of an age, temperament and condition that I might be interested in who wanted to be married, already is.”

“So how did that happen?” Tizanna, a friend of Mira’s had just come up to them. If she’d been Calenyan Baranyi would have compared her to a sparrow, but she was a tall Bitrani and so was more like a stork or a heron.

Baranyi looked helplessly from one to the other, feeling rather like a trapped frog. She said, “I had several…suitors but then my mother got sick, it turned out she’d been slowly poisoning herself while preparing her pigments, and I was the only one still at home to help look after her. When that was all over and our mourning had finished, those men had all moved on and there was no-one else who was interested. Then my father was so lost and sad for the next few years, I couldn’t leave him and then he began to get frailer with old age.” She shrugged. “It just sort of happened.”

Tizanna nodded firmly. “Mira’s right. Buldaveho could be a very suitable man, and you have your recent losses in common. That kind of thing can be more important than most people realise. You should find out if you like him.”

In the chandler’s shop not so far away, Buldaveho was talking to another fisherman of his own age, when the man said, “I see that the little Northerner who’s renting Hakapa’s place has been hanging around near your berth. Causing you any trouble?”

Buldaveho shrugged. “Nope. She’s careful to set up out of our way. Minds her own business.”

“You’ve been talking to her.” There wasn’t quite an accusatory note in there.

“She’s easy to talk to. And she doesn’t complain about the smell,” added Buldaveho.

“I heard,” jumped in the chandler himself, “that she came into a little money when her father died. It can’t hurt to talk to her.”



This is now followed by Legacy 6.

Legacy 4

Dec. 21st, 2015 10:16 pm
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 3.

“It must be nice to spend your time doing what you want instead of working,” he commented the first night she saw him.

“I’m a painter, this is work,” she’d retorted calmly if a little absentmindedly while painting in a piece of dark rigging over her lighter washes.

“This will earn you money?” He was disbelieving, but not unfriendly even if he was way too close for her comfort.

“Painting and drawing are skills you need to practice to get better,” she told him as she took another look at the prow of his boat. “Also, I have three siblings, ten nieces and nephews, and a lot of uncles, aunts and cousins who want to see what I’m up to. Besides, sunsets sell. These ones may not sell here, but further north….”

“Ah,” he nodded and moved on.

A few days later, when the tides or his catch brought him back to the dock while she was there again, he asked, “Why are you still painting the sunset?”

“It’s not the same sunset,” answered Baranyi. “Each one is different. You must have seen that.”

“I have,” he agreed. “My name’s Buldaveho, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you.” She took a moment to smile at him, “I’m Barelvyanyi.”

He got an almost cross-eyed look on his face before he said, “So, that would make you Barnyi for everyday use?”

Baranyi shook her head as she mixed a little more dark on her palette. “No, she’s one of my older first cousins on my mother’s side. I’m Baranyi, but do we know each other well enough for you to call me that?”

He nodded gravely and asked, “But would you like to?”

She painted in a foreground detail. “I might have to ask some people I know about you before I decide that.”

“That would be sensible,” he agreed. “I might talk to some people too.”



This is now followed by Legacy 5.

Legacy 3

Dec. 16th, 2015 04:20 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This follows on from Legacy 2.


Baranyi had decided to stay in the coastal town of Gaeda. It had some fishing and the surrounding farmland was mainly rice paddies, with goats, naturally. She had rented a small house near the shore and was still not sure whether its differences to the house she grew up in were due to climate, when the two houses were built, or Calenyan and Bitrani cultural differences. Frankly, Baranyi suspected a healthy dose of all three plus a few idiosyncratic residents. The furniture was plainer than she was used to, lacking in painted decoration, but she was beginning to see that the plain polished wooden surfaces where part of the larger Bitrani aesthetic.

That was an insight she was gaining from both her studies at the town library, which had a collection of interesting pictures plus books in Bitrani on Bitrani art, and from her regular discussions with her Bitrani art teacher. Andulo’s usual students were local children hoping to increase their overall marks enough to get into an Academy, and Baranyi had the impression that he enjoyed talking colour theory with her because their conversations started where his explanations to his students ended. They didn’t just talk about colour theory, of course, there was composition and media as well, but Baranyi’s primary interest was in how the Bitrani chose their palettes.

Andulo’s wife, Mira, had been a bit wary of Baranyi to begin with – until the younger woman had confessed her confusion at the numerous types of rice available in the local markets and shops and her complete ignorance of what to do with them. In return for that language and cooking lesson, Baranyi had made Mira a batch of the sweet bean cakes from her paternal grandmother’s recipe, which had led to sweet rice cakes, and then the two women swapping honey candy recipes. Having made a friend of Mira meant that the other Bitrani women in the neighbourhood looked a little more kindly on their northern visitor and that gave Baranyi more people who were willing to let her try her growing Bitrani vocabulary and grammar on.

In the early mornings Baranyi painted watercolours of sunrise over the fields, sometimes with the mountains in the distance. Early morning flocks of birds soared from their resting places and she was learning how to make the quietly clad farm workers a feature of the scene. Calenyan farmers wore brighter colours so it was easier to show them in the fields as a feature, but she had to work to make the Bitrani the feature she expected them to be in her finished works.

In the evenings she sat on the dock near her house and painted sunsets. The challenges of that included moving boats and a much shorter dusk period after the sun went down than she was used to at home. It turned out that they also included the fisherman whose berth was closest to the end of the pier where she set up to do her painting. He was tall and blond, of course, and he wanted to talk while she was working.




This is now followed by Legacy 4.

Legacy 2

Dec. 10th, 2015 02:42 am
rix_scaedu: (Default)
This is a fanfic of [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig's Reiassan world and follows on from Legacy.  It comes in as 970 words

The world is [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig's and, if in doubt, her writings are canonical and mine are fluff.



“Mama!” Talbetzhorymyuvy almost skidded through the door, a small package in his hands. “It’s another packet from Aunty Baranyi! Can I open it to see what’s inside?”

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There is now Legacy 3.

Legacy

Dec. 6th, 2015 03:26 pm
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Coming out of a direct message conversation with [livejournal.com profile] aldersprig arising from her post Lexember Day 5: Underwear and Vests, Linen and Buttons, this is set in the world and time of her serial Edally Academy: The Angry Aetherist.    This piece comes in at 666 words and I thoroughly recommend the serial.

Giebrienmaa-Lar sighed and looked around her childhood home. She said practically, “You’ll have to clear out all of this…stuff before we can sell it, Baranyi. Father did become something of a pack rat in his old age, didn’t he?”

Her sister, Barelvyanyi often shortened to Baranyi, said helplessly, “When his prints suddenly became popular, Father saw no reason not to indulge himself. Other people’s artwork he’d always wanted to own, baubles – he even had a share in racing goat at one stage. Although,” she added fairly, “I think he mainly wanted to draw it.”

“At least there’s not that to get rid of too,” said her sister. “Tatat and Koppod will want their share of the proceeds from the house as soon as possible; living in Lannamer is so expensive.”

“I’ll have to find somewhere to store it all until I have somewhere else to live,” said Baranyi. “Not that I want to keep it all for ever, but it will take time to find buyers for some of the better items.”

“Why would anyone want to buy any of this?” Giebmaa picked up the top folio binder from a stack beside their late father’s favourite chair and flipped it open. The print showed an image of a young woman with her dark hair in elaborate braids, a delicately embroidered and faithfully rendered set of linens, and a kiprat in the style of the late reign of the Empress Otyeriotanerio. “Scandalous pictures, is that’s what’s in all these folders? Speaking as someone who went to an Academy and studied Art, I think you’d be best off just junking the lot of, is this thing labelled?”

“They all are,” said Baranyi faintly and anxiously. “Father liked to collect full sets, if he could get or accumulate them.”

“Did he? Well thankfully they’re not mine. Mind you, you’ll need to be rid of the lot of them if you’re coming to live with us. This is not the sort of thing I want diverting the boys’ minds at their ages.” Giebmaa closed the folder she was holding and dropped it back down on the pile it had come from, not noticing that her sister was holding her breath. A Study in Braids? Who names these things?”

“Kozhsyalsyalsyek,” said her husband, Larbednmooklel-Gieb, from the doorway. “Very well-known and very collectable, in his particular niche. Please be gentler with your sister’s inheritance, my dear. Your father may have left her a small fortune for staying home and looking after him all these years. With the proceeds of what she cares to sell from the collection and her share of the house, I doubt she’ll need to move in with us.” He smiled and added, “If you really want a live-in housekeeper, I’ll hire one for you.”

Giebmaa looked at him stunned. “You’re saying that this junk is worth money? If it is, why would it all be Baranyi’s?”

“Because your father specifically left it to her,” Larlel said carefully. “The world isn’t all about you dear. Besides, you just said that you were glad that your father’s collection wasn’t yours.”

“That was before I knew it was worth anything,” Giebmaa replied frankly. “We’ve four children to raise. Tatat’s got six. Baranyi-.”

“Deserves a chance for all that, don’t you think? If she wants it and not something else,” added Larlel, casting a glance at his sister-in-law. “She stayed with your parents, looked after them, and let the rest of you build your careers, and private lives, without those responsibilities. Now it’s her turn.”

“I might try finding a teacher and studying languages,” said Baranyi quietly. “Or singing. And travel to the Bitrani enclaves to study Bitrani aesthetics and their tonal palette.”

“You were never interested in studying before,” accused her sister.

“Oh, I was interested,” corrected Baranyi, “but I was more interested in eating regularly, and people not fighting all the time and being cross because they were hungry. Giebmaa, did you ever learn to cook anything? Anything at all?”



This is now followed by Legacy 2.

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