To whom it will concern,
When I was accepted as owned, the prince didn't know what to do with me. He was not accustom to servants and the ancillaries that already existed were Truyian. He wasn't sure an Ephemeral could operate as one. There was hot talk over the subject, especially sourced from Duc- the Over of Knowledge, who rarely agrees to anything sourced outside himself.
Over time, they decided to list me as Primary ancillary to Roark and the prince. Roark, so that he would take responsibility for any mess I made. The prince, of course, because that was who I was gifted to. No party knew what sort of Kray I was and whether or not I'd brought rampant hedonism with me. It was a reasonable fear.
My first task, given by Duc and so frequently disobeyed: "behave". That is, behave as though I am a Norther Truyian. This was quickly disregarded and dismissed as impossible. The second task I received from Roark: ease the prince. This, I was amenable to and I found to be most intriguing. The third task, from the prince: "tell me everything". He wanted information, opinion, projection and whatever else I could find. I had the additional ancillary tasks as well, serving as janitor, messenger, and personal assistant to both Overs and their Unders.
I behaved with great deference to all resident Truyians initially, but quickly leaned back into the candor in my core. That core being curious at only the most irritating of times and otherwise eager to please, permitting me to retain etiquette in North Central station at least. My greatest darkness, pride, matched that of the North. Beyond that, Shine primed me for the rest. It was not long before I allowed myself to be assimilated.
For all their restrictions, Norther mentality is addictive. More restrictions mean more temptations. Mere words can summon up thoughts worthy of admonishment. In this way, Northers are frequently on the edge- the heart about to beat out of the chest, or melt on the spot- and along that edge lies trepidation, thrill, luscious excitement: suspenseful tension. Between all the quadrants, Northers harbor the greatest tension and, to the Museum, tension is power. Tension is life.
There is a pervasive knowing among them that this is something of a game, or psychological ruse. This knowing rises out of the subconscious and into the consciousness of the constituency occasionally. Sometimes in an ironic smile or clandestine motions in private places. The Overs refer to it a little more freely.
Northers don't surround themselves with temptations. If they did, they would become immune to them and the value of restraint would lessen. Instead, temptations come when the Norther is weakest or in a natural state of hunger, or drawing, and -in those moments- they come as if summoned by name. The entire Norther society revolves around enabling intense desire and using that thirst- the impetus that develops from it- to empower unusual feats. Thoughts become stronger and intentions take on a remarkable potency.
If you see the face of death, a great beast about to maul you perhaps, you become capable of abilities you could never before harness. Your body and mind and soul and whatever else it is you've got, are on the same exact page, the same line. Your entity will go about defense in an incredibly pure fashion. Your Need to survive surpasses anything else within your comprehension. Even the Ephemeral are known to portray abilities or powers of the body and mind that would be called "super" in these situations.
That is what the North aims to harness. They foster it within their lifestyle and then direct this power of intensity to ask hard questions, solve difficult problems, and otherwise do things that others can't. They build internal fortresses, they endure, and then careen through incorporeal barriers within the reality we thought we knew. These barriers are frequently both unseen and unappreciated by the other quadrants.
In the world of the North, kitchens were barren and sensitive bodies completely covered- generally. Sugar and fat were either hidden or not available. Herbal tea was one of the greatest permissible indulgences. Yet, the Northers must flirt with their demons in order to exacerbate their condition. The sugar, the fat, the intoxicants – they would come out from time to time – usually by some conniving, smirking Truyian wishing to watch another's inhibitions cripple and swoon upon exposure to forbidden senses. There were no lack of wraps, but I might have thought there was given the number of times I'd seen portions of them become 'lost' or used for other purposes without replacement. After whatever excuse, the originator then wore only the most strategic fragments- somehow perfectly arranged to emphasize their assets, always in proximity of a deeply affected person or persons.
The limitations of the Northers only partly apply to me; I may do whatever I like so long as I don't become a poor influence, so long as nobody is looking. I'm allowed to eat anything, anything in these near empty cupboards, or whatever I can snatch from Intercept and keep in my quarters. I'm allowed to copulate with anyone that isn't a Norther, which is practically nobody in North Central. There are Easters here, but all of them take Norther sensibilities when present and tend to be even more strict in the role than the Norther's themselves. In short: they aren't interested. I subsist on dough balls, meditation, and occasional trips to Intercept when I feel like I'm going to lose it.
For the Northers, there are loopholes. I am one of them. You can add that to my many roles: provider of delicate, desperately needed, indecency. In perfect secrecy, of course.
Ludlow, Ancillary of North Central
YOU ARE READING
Letters of Intention for Succession
Science Fiction**letters are in progress** Ludlow has led an unusual life. It has been in a strange place, far away from his home. He serves masters in a new world where the closest thing to God is below his feet, underneath the Ground's crust. He is something lik...
