For powerful n, the dilemma of leadership presents itself thus: without a strong hand, events proceed in undesirable directions; with too strong a hand, delegation becos impossible. The usual resolution is to pick ones battles - to take personal charge of the most crucial tasks while letting subordinates handle less important matters.
This is a false solution to the problem, however. By creating a distinction of importance, a leader tells his n that there are scenarios which they are not qualified to address. Protective subordination is, in itself, a limiting action. It is often done with the best of intentions, so that n may grow at a asured pace with limited exposure to risk.
However, n do not grow as they must when they know a higher authority is sheltering them from ultimate consequence. A leaders role is not to think for his n, nor act for them, nor take blows in their stead. Attachnt tells us that we must protect a man from harm - but in doing so, you have killed the best version of him already.
- Saleh Taskin, On Reclamation, 687
He woke just before sunrise, finding himself sore and aching; it was an oddly nostalgic experience. Michael sat up slowly. His head was pounding, and the sporadic gunfire from outside was not helping matters. Scarcely a mont after he was upright, Sobriquet materialized near him.
Nice of you to join us, she said.
Michael nodded, regretting the motion imdiately. Ow. It seed courteous. What did I miss?
Her apparition gestured dismissively with one dizzying arm. Not much. I dont think they had reserves ready to go right away, so you bought us a span of respite. Sibyl figured out that you were indisposed, though. The artillery has been rciless. Not too many deaths, compared to what we were facing, but youre the only one that got any sleep tonight.
Thats a reversal, Michael muttered, stretching his sight out; the guns were silent for the mont, but he could see that the camp had been harshly-treated since the last ti he looked. Craters and churned soil were everywhere, though the fortifications seed mostly intact. Few dared to walk outside.
He drew upon Stanza and felt his head clear, the feeling so welco that he held on to the power for longer than was strictly necessary. Michael breathed deeply, banishing the aches from his body - and noting the warmth there, more than prior.
There were more than a few new lights, to his surprise. Seven low souls shone where there had been none before, mute in their radiance.
Michael sank back onto the bed. It was always strange to look within and find more than there had been before, but usually it was sothing that had been inflicted upon him. This was his own doing, the first souls he had taken by force since he had killed Spark - killed him for threatening Michael with the very thing he had just done voluntarily.
What had been abhorrent now felt - normal. Not the comfortable normal, as he had been accustod to before his ensoulnt, but a sort of well-worn unpleasantness that he knew he could withstand. Here was Michael Baumgart, irrevocably greater than he had been the day before.
He let out a long sigh, then swung his feet from the bed to stand.
You seem glum for a man who just saved a few thousand lives, Sobriquet noted, fading to a voice in his ear as he entered the narrow stairwell leading up from the bunker.
Michael grimaced. Those arent the lives I was thinking of.
Yet the Safid are focused on them rather keenly, Sobriquet countered. Things were taking a turn before you stepped in. Your presence was a curiosity before last night, but theyve talked of little else since.
He rounded a cramped landing and continued to ascend. I gained seven low souls, he said. I dont even rember half of them coming to .
There was a long pause before Sobriquet spoke again. So of them may have co while you were out, she said eventually. There were a few tis, during the shellings - you seized and moved about, but didnt wake. As I said, there were so deaths.
Michael blinked, surprised, and paused on the stairs to focus inward. It had not occurred to him that so of the souls might be Safid in origin. He had no way to verify it, at least not easily, and he did rember at least two souls coming from the Ardan soldiers-
But the thought that most of those new souls might be n he had worked to save rather than n he had killed was welco, and buoyed him up the remainder of the stairs. Sobriquet directed him towards the ss, where she was currently eating with the n. He wove his way through the quiet lanes of the camp.
The ss was a relatively secure place in the shelling; as a result, it was packed near to bursting with soldiers when he entered. The bright lights and roar of conversation were jarring after his stroll through the quiet night.
The latter of the two died away when he entered, though. Faces, veiled and bare, turned to him as he entered. The Safid soldiers lowered their eyes, touching their fingers to their lips, then their forehead. Michael found it intensely uncomfortable; there was no response to the action that seed correct.
So he ignored it. Instead, Michael walked briskly to where Sobriquet sat. He squeezed into a seat between her and Stenger, pointedly not looking at the staring crowd.
Hey, boss, Richter said, sliding over a plate of food. Done napping?
Michael snorted. Hopefully. He took an experintal bite of whatever spiced rice dish was being served today and found that he was famished; as he ate, the noise of conversation gradually filled in around them once more.
There, thats more comfortable, Lars said. Honestly, youd think theyd never seen a man singlehandedly clear a battlefield before.
Sobriquet gave him a reproachful look, but the Ardan captain shrugged, unrepentant. It was bloody brilliant, and saved a bunch of lads with their heads still working from a bunch of those without. Honestly, I had no notion you could work your soul on that many n at once. He peered at Michael. Been holding out on us, mate?
Michael shook his head, hastily swallowing his mouthful of food. I dont think so, he said. He took a swig of water, then frowned, considering. Maybe. Its not a talent Ive sought out, but its one thats beco increasingly necessary.
Of all people, you shouldnt be complaining, Zabala said dryly. His restraint is the only reason youre here at all.
Lars flushed, but laughed with the rest, waving his hand. No, no, he said. Not complaining, only wondering whats left for a poor sod like when one man can-
He broke off as a shell burst so distance away. The concussion thumped low, sending motes of dust drifting down from the ceiling and flickering the dim candleflas that lit the ss. So of the Safid ca to their feet, heads up and alert.
Michael kept eating. Its fine, he said, mouth half-full. I saw them coming.
Lars gave a sharp laugh and sat back down, running a hand through his hair. Back to designated shelling areas, I see, he said. Ghars blood, it does make the business of war that much more civilized.
If it were civilized, we wouldnt be here at all, Zabala pointed out. And that only covers the shells. Theyll send n before too much longer.
Sobriquets eyes narrowed. Theyre sending n now.
Michael paused mid-bite, looking up. Are they?
Seems that way. Sobriquet got up from her seat. Theyre still far off, but they started moving with the latest round of shelling. And if I can sense them this far away-
Ensouled, Michael muttered, looking disconsolately down at his plate. Well, shit.
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