(2025-07-27) A Thorny Family Tree

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	Aszera Sunstrike follows up on the Mystery of the… Mysterious Map, this time by taking Sintha Fallon's advice and meeting with Miss Curran.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Apex Investigations

On a July afternoon, a little mail robot arrives in a package to Fallon House for Miss Curran. When the robot's button is pressed, Aszera Sunstrike's voice emerges from the device. The cadence is a little stilted, as if the sender may have rehearsed this a few times.

Dear Miss Curran,

Miss Mayellen Hazan, Miss Natalyah Kensington-Whit and I have been working on a puzzle for Admiral Fallon, one I believe you're familiar with as well. We have uncovered some interesting information regarding the matter, and I request to consult with you at your earliest convenience.

The voice shifts into a little more natural rhythm as the letter continues…

Today or tomorrow maybe? That is, if you're available and it's convenient. If not, just tell me when, I'm flexible. I hope the robot's not too weird, but I thought it'd be better than my handwriting. If you wouldn't mind recording a message and sending it back, I'll be able to hear it right away.

Looking forward to seeing you again! Asze…ra Sunstrike

At the appointed day and time

A bay mare trots up to the driveway of Fallon House with a nimble grace, a description that does not extend to unsteady elvish woman on her back. Still, Aze allows no sign of discomfort to show on her face. She's not in a ballgown this time, but boots and slacks for horseback and a long burgundy riding jacket — she's clean and presentable, but this is a professional call and not a social one.

The mare slows as they approach the house, likely from the horse's familiarity with how to do the whole 'visiting people' task than from any clear direction from her rider.

Brink, one of the junior grooms, emerges from the gatehouse to greet Aszera and rescue her from her horse. He does not direct her to the house — a formal courtesy he would ordinarily offer to a guest, despite the fact that the house is obviously Right There across the circular drive and visible not just from the gatehouse but maybe from space — because she used to live in it. Also he is not sure how to give directions to a blind person.

Vane opens the door smoothly at her approach, before a knock is required. "Miss Sunstrike. Miss Curran is in the library. Shall I take your jacket?"

"Oh," Aze says, and considers that for maybe a few beats longer than might be considered usual. Then she nods, and starts to slide off the long-sleeved jacket. The blouse she's wearing underneath is three-quarter-sleeved and cream-colored, the edges of her tattoos visible on her arms. "Yes, thank you. Should I just head to her on my own?"

Rather than answering the question directly, Vane takes silent stock of Aze's uncertainty. He turns to hang her coat in the coat-hangy place that exists, turns back to bow his head, and says, "This way, miss."

It is a short, familiar walk. The library at present is empty save for Miss Curran, who is seated in one of the armchairs in the hearthside grouping. She is dressed in her usual prim fashion: Today it is a high-necked navy blue ladies' day suit that matches the color scheme of the room. This is probably inadvertent. Also Aze probably cannot tell. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek bun and her pointless tortoiseshell glasses hang on a gold chain around her neck.

She stands politely as Aze enters. On the coffee table before her, a tea service is arranged. It is a very austere tea service — tea, literally, none of Cook's usual treats, and (knowing Cook) someone had to specifically request that.

"Miss Sunstrike," Miss Curran greets her.

"Miss Curran," Aze says, moving smoothly into the room with an easy smile. She doesn't seem to mind the austerity of the tea, or Miss Curran's prim manner. At least one of those things was likely expected. She steps over to the armchair next to Miss Curran's, and then pauses to turn politely towards her and say, "It's a pleasure to see you again. I hope you've been well, since the Highlands… and the gala?"

Miss Curran's raised brows are audible. "Has any of us been well since the gala? Perhaps you have. Would you like tea?"

"Yes, please," Aze says, moving to take the seat. Her tone and expression don't change at all as she adds, "And no, I have not."

There's a slight pause, an intake of breath, where it seems she might elaborate, but instead Aze continues to say, "I expect you know what I'm here to discuss. Admiral Fallon set us to investigate the map he received. We've made some progress, and it seemed the right time to compare notes with you."

"The Admiral did mention it to me, yes." Miss Curran sits as well, and pours tea. "Do you take sugar?"

"No, thank you," Aze says, leaning her hands on her knees. "We found a bookseller, a Parsons, who has — had, we've secured them — a collection of maps done by a few Parrishes. One of them seems to be the author of Admiral Fallon's map."

Miss Curran looks up sharply, the spout of the teapot rattling briefly against the cup's rim. "Parrish maps? Hywel Parrish? At a bookseller's?" Her expression is frozen. "I didn't — " She falls abruptly silent.

When she finishes pouring and offers one of the cups to Aze, she asks mildly, "A few Parrishes? Which ones?"

"Yes, Hywel Parrish," Aze says, accepting the teacup. She doesn't take a sip yet, just holds it aloft, as she continues, "And the second is the one we think made the Admiral's. That's the one we were hoping you might be able to help with. It's a K. Parrish, from King's Calendar 609, according to the map. Do you know of any K. Parrishes who might be into mapmaking? That's the first question I have, at least."

"609?" Miss Curran processes this. "That's… rather recent. K. Parrish — I can only think of Kian Parrish off the top of my head, and he's not a cartographer and would make a very poor one." She frowns over her tea, gazing absently at the shelves across the room.

"Will you give me a moment, Miss Sunstrike?" She sets her teacup down.

"Of course," Aze says, sitting back a fractional amount and taking a sip of tea, politely at ease. "There's more information I should share — but that name was a big part. Lady Sintha suggested to Miss Kensington-Whit that you might know other K's than she did."

Aze falls silent then, actually giving Miss Curran a moment.

Miss Curran leaves the room. She is gone for more than a moment. Several minutes later she returns and settles in her chair again.

Once Miss Curran is out of the room, Aze sets her teacup down and sags back against the armchair, letting her head fall against the backrest with a barely audible sigh. A few moments before Miss Curran re-enters, she quickly fixes her posture and lifts the teacup to take another sip of tea.

"There are two other K. Parrishes," Miss Curran reports. "Keeley and Kinseil. Keeley is a tidesage at Mariner's Strand in Stormsong. I do not know what Kinseil does or whether she is still alive." She picks her tea up. "You have more information, you said?"

"Keeley and Kinseil," Aze repeats with a nod. "And one a tidesage, hm. But right, the next thing we thought of was naturally where was this bookseller getting valuable goods of Kul Tiras? He mentioned two people — one a pirate, dead now, not our source. The other a 'Miss Fallon' with a vague description that could fit Lady Sintha, but it definitely isn't her."

Miss Curran raises her eyebrows and has a sip of tea. "What was this 'vague description?'"

"Brown hair, brown eyes, not fancy," Aze says, circling a finger as she ticks off the points. "Na– Miss Kensington-Whit and Miss Hazan thought it was close enough to ask her, but Lady Sintha said no. So now we think this mystery 'Fallon' might be our source. Maybe even our K. Parrish, or at least working with them? Obviously the description means nothing to me, but… if we think there might be a tidesage involved, that's easier to spot."

"Brown hair and brown eyes? Yes, I can see that… might not give you much to work with. As far as I know, there aren't any mainland Fallons." Miss Curran takes her glasses off and polishes them absently with a napkin. "And because it's someone dealing in Parrish maps, we must assume they are either Kul Tiran or connected to Kul Tiras. But there wouldn't be a Tirasian Fallon who fits that description either, so the name is false. But it's someone close enough to have the maps, so…." She gazes into space for a time.

At length she puts her glasses back on. "Kian Parrish's children are dark-haired. Rhodri and the twins are blue-eyed, but the middle boy has brown eyes, so it's possible Kinseil did also. Keeley Parrish is Cai's daughter and she was running to grey the last time I saw her. So if we are going to operate on the theory that this 'Miss Fallon' is also K. Parrish… I suppose you might be looking for Kinseil?"

Aze mouths Kian, Rohdri, twins, Kinseil, Keeley, Cai… as Miss Curran is talking, her expression intent as she does her best to commit the family tree to memory. At the last, she straightens just a little bit more and nods her understanding.

"Kinseil Parrish, then," Aze says with a nod. "Either the source of the maps from elsewhere and there's still an accomplice or smuggler involved, or she's somewhere here on the mainland and not wanting to be found. Well, that and if it's her, she's willing to sell valuable maps to booksellers. But then if it is her, she's sent the map to Fallon, which is kind of a mixed signal." Aze pauses. "All of which can be cleared up, after we hunt her down."

"To be clear," Miss Curran says a little repressively, "that is my speculation as to 'K. Parrish.' We can't be certain she's the person selling the maps, but if they are one and the same, she might fit the description. I can't be certain because to be honest I'm not even certain she's alive. She was disowned very young and vanished, and I don't believe she's been heard from since.

"Of course, Kinseil Parrish might be someone close enough to the family to be familiar with the maps and their value, and with enough of a grudge to sell stolen or forged ones on the mainland. Why she would involve the Fallons, though…." She shakes her head.

"Disowned?" Aze says, a faint line forming between her brows."What does a very young Parrish do to be disowned? She's the best lead we've found so far, anyway, so I hope she's alive."

"Stars know what a child would have to do to be disowned in that family. Accidentally sneeze on the shrine? Suffer seasickness. Ask what all the fuss is about with ships anyway." Miss Curran pauses and adjusts her spectacles primly. "Though I would never suggest any such thing. I'm sure there was a perfectly valid reason."

"Of course you wouldn't," Aze says agreeably, taking another sip of tea. "But that kind of family, I get it. A child can go any number of directions from there. Rage, desperation to be accepted, apathy…" Aze pauses, tapping a finger against the glass. "If she's our mapmaker, then she's learned a trade she thought her family would value. That doesn't sound like rage or apathy. And if she's here, she can't get to the Parrishes, and maybe she doesn't expect a welcome with the Fallons. So she sends the most acceptable part of her — a map — ahead, to test the waters."

Aze shrugs with one shoulder, keeping her teacup level. "Or maybe Kinseil is dead, Keeley made the maps, and the brown-haired girl is a very clever smuggler who is bold enough to taunt noble houses. We can't really know, until we find the map seller and learn who she is."

"You might ask — I can't imagine he'd have more information than me, but you might try all the same asking Lord Arric — Falrevere, that is — whether he's ever heard anything about Kinseil or any recent generation Parrish mapmakers. His sister, Lady Arrish, is married to Rhodri, Kian's eldest son, Kinseil's older brother." Miss Curran makes a very slight face; the expression isn't audible in her mild tone.

"Lord Arric…" Aze says, thinking that one through while she doesn't see the shift in expression. "Oh, right he's the one who was drill… that is, teaching etiquette to Miss Ozzy Gravehowl." Aze smiles at Miss Curran, and says, "We can ask him, at least — that is a pretty close connection."

Miss Curran nods. After a moment, she says, "You seem to have a handle on the matter." Her tone is a little grudging. Yeah good job, I guess.

There's just the slightest hopeful rise of Aze's chin at the praise, however grudging. She sets down her half-empty teacup and says, "Thank you for the genealogy. We'll follow this trail where it leads, and I'll be sure to let you know if we find anything further. You can count on Apex."

"I'm sure," says Miss Curran briskly. "The Admiral wouldn't rely on you otherwise. I am going to look into this bookseller meanwhile, if it doesn't interfere with your investigation. If you require that I write up any of the family information I've just relayed, I can do so."

"It shouldn't," Aze says, crossing her arms over her stomach. "We've already secured his Kul Tiran stock on behalf of Fallon House and the other two interro– talked to him. They were thorough, but if there's anything else you find that we should know, I trust you'll tell us. As for the rest, I am confident I've committed the family information to memory, but my handwriting is not the best. If you wouldn't mind, the others might appreciate a written copy."

"Certainly," says Miss Curran. "I wouldn't like to keep you waiting just now, but I can send it along to your offices, if that suits?"

This maybe seems like a hint about how welcome Aze is to hang out, also.

"That'd suit just fine," Aze says, taking the hint and rising from her seat. "Thank you for your time, Miss Curran."

---

As promised, the Parrish genealogy Miss Curran sends to the Apex offices.