Tenjin

Tenjin is a merchant, and a very good one, buying and selling in bulk and making quite a tidy profit in the process. She reads tea leaves and signs in the stars to tell her where the need will be greatest, and sends ships laden with the goods they'll need so when it happens, it's her that gets to any disaster, any shortage, before anyone else. Of course, bitter merchants gossip that she has a hand in creating the disasters, but since no one can prove anything, it is enough that she seems dispassionate, cold and calculating about turning a profit from others' misery, to set tongues wagging. If it helps people, that is merely a pleasing side-benefit.

She's from a grand mercantile family that has long roots in Oakheart, and those helped her get the startup funds for her import-export business- she has repaid them back threefold, and often gives loans out to small business enterprises herself. It's the one area in which she has boundless empathy, and stupidly bad business sense. She sees the light in their eyes when dragons pitch a dream to her, and for a moment she's that kid again, all hope and wishful thinking. She knows the gnawing hunger of wanting to make something of yourself in the world, and gives all she comfortably can to help others achieve it.

Her bardic (Bard-given) nickname is 'Djinni' ie Genie, because she always seems to be 'pulling a genie out of a bottle', in the sense that she always seems a few steps ahead of everyone else. She could sell snow to the Icefields, and probably would, if they could only get their long-distance cold-storage enchantments up and running. The strange otherworldly air to her does nothing to dispell the rumour about mushroom-blood children, kin and decendants of the great mycologist Mars, but she cashes in on it as a part of her mystique; the curiosity brings plenty of customers in, and that's all she cares about.

No one can quite figure her out. Part hocus-pocus, part razzle-dazzle, part salesmanship of the bare-faced con artist variety. No one ever goes into her shop without being able to walk out with what they wanted. Also a whole lot more than they knew they wanted, but they're convinced that they will need it sooner or later, because she's been right so often before, who are they to argue if she says they need a 2000-coin alligator-protection amulet? And if there are no alligators, doesn't that mean she was right and it WORKED?
Tenjin remembered how relieved she’d felt when she’d been told she wouldn’t have to become a diviner. Her grandfather had implored, “Please, I’m old....My children aren’t interested in the shop. But Tenjin likes it there....She’ll take care of it when I’m gone. It's my legacy, my life's work- let me teach her about it. Please.”

She’d wondered at the pity her grandfather had inspired in the dragons who would’ve sent her away. He’d told no lies — it had all been in the attitude, how he’d stooped to clutch her paw and mimicked a much older dragon’s quavering voice. When she’d asked him about it afterwards, he’d winked at her. “Indeed, it’s all in the attitude!”

Now the grown-up Tenjin wondered if she kept getting bamboozled by “the attitude”. She looked glumly at the figures of her latest investment. Not good...The shop owner’s attached letter was not a clinical request for financial aid, but a heartfelt plea: “There’s an untapped market here; I only need to figure out how to break in!”

Tenjin was already pouring the tea when Arzhur arrived. “Would one of those cups be mine, Granddaughter?”

“Oh, Grandfather! Yes, please come in.”

Arzhur noticed the merchant’s letters. His snout twitched. “Another charity case?”

“Grandpa, it’s not like that and you know it!”

“Now, Tenjin, how do you expect to become a black-hearted gouger like myself if you throw money at every outstretched paw?” Despite the brutal words, Arzhur’s tone was warm, and Tenjin answered with a laugh. It was an old joke: the price-gouging merchants who must have seedy connections all over Sornieth — how else to explain their success?

It certainly wasn’t due to crime. There was a reason the diviners had wanted to train Tenjin.

After reading the tea leaves, Tenjin penned a reply to the shop owner: “The market you chose is falling off. I suggest you switch to...”

“And your reading will be accurate. As usual.” Arzhur was bemused. “Why not do the reading before you lend them money?”

“I can’t.” Tenjin laughed in embarrassment. “When they start talking about their dreams of making it big, I get caught up; it blocks my sight, and the signs don’t appear. I can’t advise them when I’m as excited as they are!”

Arzhur raised an eyeridge. “But even if a successful reading told you their businesses would tank, you’d still lend them the money, right?”

“Of course! As I said here,” and Tenjin waved the letter, “the market’s not rising now, but it will soon. Businesses are the same, Grandfather. They may fail soon. That doesn’t mean they’ll fail forever. Not everyone can be immediately successful like we were, but they can get there — eventually. All I’ve got to do is give them that nudge they need....”

Arzhur laughed delightedly at her explanation. He indicated their postbox with a gracious wave, and Tenjin grinned back and dropped the letter in.

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
all edits by other users

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HOLDING A BIO FOR SCHALLA FOR WHEN SHE'S BORN: BY DISILLUSIONIST


The weavers had not seen their sister or their niece for a long time. When they did so again, it was not a happy occasion: the child’s face was blank, the mother’s was grim. Belenos quickly went to prepare food and drink for them, while Aine queried, “What happened?”

And Bodhi answered, “She has lost her memory.”

~ ~ ~
Schalla’s memory loss was not total. She had been born in the Tower and could still remember her aunt and uncle. Her mother was from Oakheart, however, and she had brought Schalla back to the Viridian Labyrinth. A warm place, filled with color and music...The dragons had been happy to have another hatchling around, and Schalla had been forever running about, poking into...nooks...and crannies....

Her head ached when she thought about the events surrounding the gap in her memory. She’d entered her mother’s den....It had been nighttime. And then in an eye-blink, Bodhi was shaking her, calling her name, and the sun was shining through the windows. How much time had passed?

Now she was back in the Tower. Her mother had left her here to learn magic from her aunt and uncle: Aine and Belenos, Binder and Healer of Hearts.

After having been advised by Bodhi, they knew they had to handle this young one very carefully. Belenos worked with her first, letting her watch the Tower’s other dragons: “Look around them, Schalla. What do you see?”

“Books. Tables. Walls.” She yawned. Belenos frowned a bit, but he was used to counseling and guiding. He repeated patiently: “What do you see around them?”

On the day Schalla answered, “I see a web of light,” her uncle breathed a sigh of relief. Schalla was then questioned closely: What did she mean by “web”? As she described what she had seen, the siblings traded enigmatic looks, and then Aine murmured, “I’ll take it from here.”

She produced a thin rope, red and gold running together in a single fiery line. There was no magic involved — not just yet. All Schalla had to do was tie knots.

Schalla pulled a face. This was even more boring than Belenos’ dragon-watching advice. Inevitably, she tired of this, and she untied the knots again. And without really thinking about it, she began to pick the ropes themselves apart, extracting the individual threads.

Aine returned unexpectedly. The little hatchling stifled a yelp and tried to hide the ropes from view. Her aunt wasn’t really cross, however. Schalla’s reactions had told her what she and her brother needed to know.

~ ~ ~
Schalla’s abilities overlapped both her aunt’s and her uncle’s: She could see dragons’ emotions surrounding them like a cocoon of light. But where her aunt and uncle could manipulate those feelings, she could also manipulate the memories that had inspired them.

Aine and Belenos had to watch Schalla carefully, make sure she didn’t inadvertently make someone “forget” a mishap or three. Hers was a very powerful ability, and used unwisely, it could have disastrous consequences.

An unskilled magician can only cast spells — genuine magic-users can undo them. So it was for Schalla. The first memory she repaired was her own. She had always wondered about that gap in her mind, and under her relatives’ tutelage, she slowly repaired the memory....

It had been nighttime. Bodhi had been asked to weave a burial shroud for a hatchling who’d died in an accident, a task that always left her heavy-hearted. Schalla, not understanding why everyone was suddenly so gloomy and serious, had wandered away from her.

She’d gone to her mother’s den. She loved trying on Bodhi’s apparel, especially the golden silks....But while looking for things to wear, she’d come across a wooden box. Locked — but it sprang open at her touch as if recognizing her. She hadn’t thought it was weird. She had found it odder that the only thing inside the box had been a faded metal lamp with a curly “S” scratched onto its surface.

It looked like something from a story: a magic lamp locked away from prying eyes! Schalla had immediately decided to light it, never mind that it lacked a wick. She’d turned around, seen some candles burning in sconces....

That was when Bodhi had returned. She had rushed forward with a cry of alarm and had been angry, the angriest Schalla had ever seen....

Here and now, she recalled it: the look on her mother’s face. Anxiousness and fear — for her child, who didn’t know what she had found, who didn’t know any better.

But at that time, she knew only that her mother was angry, and it had hurt her. She’d wanted to forget that she’d done something wrong, made her mother so angry, so she had willed the memory away....”

She opened her eyes.

It was morning. Belenos was preparing breakfast, and Aine was setting up the next lesson’s materials. The usual ropes for knotting, but now there were also books, folded shrouds. Colors gleaming in the sunshine, and words calling to her. Magic.

“Welcome back, Schalla,” Aine said briskly, as if nothing had happened. Her eyes, however, were very warm and steady. She knew a great change had taken place within her niece. “Let’s have breakfast. We’ll begin the day’s lessons soon — are you up to it?”

Bodhi would come back to visit, and Schalla hoped she would not look so grim again. She wanted her mother to smile and laugh, to take pride in her skills, to not be afraid for her daughter.

Those lessons would certainly would be boring. Schalla cringed inwardly at the thought of wading through all those books. But she didn’t want her family to fear for her again. She wanted to grow strong, to help other dragons like her mother, her uncle, and her aunt. “I can do it, Aunt Aine,” she declared, her face breaking into a smile. “What are we going to learn today?”

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
all edits by other users

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