<div class="floatleft">(http://th01.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/326/c/d/golden_eyes_by_reykat-d87bmu0.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Zidir<br/><strong>Race/Culture:</strong>Hadaree<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Zidir's establishment<br/><strong>Day/Time:</strong>Yaus al-Ittrou (Day of the River), Amt (first month) of Alak Paret (Harvest Season),  Late Twilight<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>N’ebthe, Open<br/><hr/><br/>Day of the River had dawned and passed mostly in good spirits at Zidir's establishment. Yesterday, aside from the meeting set up for today had for the most part been a regular slave pier day. Zidir had made a few good sales, bought new ones that would be easily sold for profit and even his slave assistant merchant had managed to get one trade in. The group had returned home in late afternoon for dinner prepared under instructions of another one of the merchant's personal slaves. Gubada, a slightly older woman already gathering both wrinkles and weight while still retaining a strangely elegant charm. It was unknown whether or not she was actually used by Zidir like most of his private slaves, but some liked to whisper such rumors and often with a giggle or chuckle on their lips. While whispers of the 'elephant matriarch' and Zidir may have been false jests, there was some seed of truth to be found in them. The master seemed to be able to see an enchanting side in everything or rather he went out of his way to see it. That day as well Zidir had went out of his way to search for members of particularly rare ancestry and managed to secure another jinn blooded whose heritage showed in their slightly bluish complexion. The poor thing had looked hollow, almost skeletal on chains and rags and gathered mostly pity and contempt. In his over a decade of slave trade Zidir had yet to understand why some people did not seem to grasp that keeping their property well fed rewarded in more ways than with good conscience and thanks.<br/><br/>That was essentially what he thought the arrangement with Ilhan and N'ebthe would be about. He was investing in the future of a slave quite like he did with with the poor Jinn blood. It was his first time really dabbling in education on this level. Himself being a self made man of simple origins Zidir had struggled to learn the letters and coins and would still make mistakes that ones of higher birth rarely committed. While he usually sought to teach the slaves it was all relatively simple things like manners to a wild Domadh or housework to a young child, nothing even close to the arts that N'ebthe was to learn from this man. How much would it increase her price, he wondered. This particular investment bore very little risks to him, but there was the duration to consider. Perhaps, he mused, it might be a good idea to consider finding teachers for his stock. It would be a simple matter of finding an educated slave for sale.<br/><br/>Zidir had given N'ebthe a good conversation of her situation to ensure that the blind shaman understood her situation as he could not be sure her eye had been on the present during the exchange between Ilhan and him. He had calmly though in a moderately disappointed and apologetic tone explained to her that Ilhan did not buy her. She was still his property, but for now could rest at ease. He would not go out of his way to try and sell her until she had gotten all out of Ilhan that was humanly possible. "Work hard on bettering yourself N'ebthe," he had said with a pondering look on him that looked through her into the future where he saw the same woman as one twice or ten times her current worth. "If he truly can teach you all he promises, you should rest at ease knowing that your future is secure. You will not be sold to any less than Emir. Some slaves of those high nobles lead even grander lives than myself."<br/><br/>Such was that evening. Yesterday of promises and hopes. Today had been one of anticipation. Early morning and afternoon Zidir had had troubles focusing. He had scribbled the contract anew thrice, asked Nafi' to look over it several times and still after hours he was not satisfied. His schemer's heart screamed for Zidir to add a loop hole there and bend a word here, but the matured merchant in him denied those thoughts. Rest of that day's duties had been done hastily or half wittingly, left for his slaves to finish. Even a moment of relaxing with his personal pleasure slave, a black furred Domadh woman, had not wholly dispelled all of the anticipation, though it had subsided enough to be kept under a guise of composure.<br/><br/>Finally came the promised hour. Late twilight fell upon the city and street of Scarab. Streaks of lighter blue clouds which would not bring rain floated too high above horizon to be dyed with the most vibrant shades of orange and red int he twilight spectrum. First stars, bright twinkling lights already pierced the sphere of sky. Dark blue shadows of the city grew deeper with approach of the evening into darkness where the line between ones feet and the sand of the streets melded into one blur. It was in evenings like these that one was reminded of how truly desolate a place Sha'ib was. Most buildings were devoid of sounds, dark empty vessels of light sand colored stone with windows like eyeless sockets. Those who houses that contained within light and life shone as guiding beacons in this ever dimming ocean. Zidir's as the brightest and biggest on this alley.<br/><br/>His house was many old stone buildings combined into one by removing walls and adding new ones. It was almost a little village in more than just appearance. The large space into which main entrance opened up was a vast hall, lined with pillows and furniture. A few dozen slaves did not even make the room look filled as they sat there chatting and spending time. Silks and fine decorative clothes hung on the walls. A pleasant incense lingered in the air as sticks resting in braziers around the room emanated a continuous trail of thick white smoke. Few candles were also lit in corners far away from the braziers to bring the overall illumination of the room into a low warm hue; bright enough just so to read.<br/><br/>Brightest was where Zidir sat, at the back of the vast hall, on the other side of the carpet expanse. A round table in front of him had cups and a tray filled with easy to eat snacks, fried crickets and some dates. Zidir was turned to face the dark furred slave in conversation while waiting for coffee to be brought to them. "...They are somewhat persistent. I am not sure if they'll really be satisfied with just that. I know these men and they are not the type to compromise. By Asaheem I truly do hope that they still respect our friendship or else we may be in for some tough times..."