The divinity we bear wields us like a hamr against the world, and its will is seen in righteous action. It is simple and easy to listen to this voice, but the righteous man must do so without regard for pain. Divinity does not recognize the frailty of n, and shows us the path that must be taken even unto our deaths.
The test of the righteous, then, is whether one may surpass base fear and doubt with trust in the divine. It is a noble thing to sacrifice oneself in the cause of divinity, and the most terrible of cris to deny its exhortations in favor of comfort and safety.
Every man must die; this is the truth. Knowing this, the cowardly man flees from death - but the righteous man accepts it as the natural end of life, and seeks to die brightly, boldly, with the fire of the divine burning in his breast. This is not to say that death is to be sought, for ending the path before its fullness is also a cowards refuge.
Make of your life a hamrs blow upon the iron of the world. Rise up to your height - and fall with purpose.
- The Book of Eight Verses, the Verse of Fla. (New Kheman Edition, 542 PD)
If there was one thing Michael had learned from his brief stay in ndian, it was that the ndiko did not take half-asures where architecture was concerned. The main room of the Batzar lay under the buildings grand glass do, the sunlight glinting through the latticework of tal overhead to fall upon a crescent table.
The table ran nearly the entire circumference of the room, leaving the central area and a space near the tips of the crescent open. The middle was a low, lovingly-kept stretch of grass, bounded by flagstones. At the far end of this captive field stood a tree, an oak that sprawled upward towards the sunlight in a riot of knobbly branches.
Michaels first thought upon seeing the tree was that it must be the oldest living thing in this world. The bark was twisted with age, fissured and split to reveal deep hollows marring the heartwood. For all that ti had ravaged it, however, its leaves grew thick under the sheltering glass; the land under the do was no sweltering greenhouse, but a calm, shady space possessed of a preternatural stillness.
n and won began to file in from the far end of the room to take their seats at the table - mostly older, and mostly n, though a scattering of exceptions leavened the crowd. The air under the tree buzzed with the grumble of a dozen quiet conversations as they took their chairs, then quieted as one man walked onto the grass.
He spread his arms and began to speak in ndiko. Michael frowned, but Unai leaned forward to murmur a translation.
It is the traditional invocation of the Batzar, the valet said. He greets the representatives of the scattered ndiko people, and comnds them for gathering far from their beloved mountains to commit to the welfare of all our people.
Unai paused as the speaker turned and gestured to the side, his movents suddenly muted and hesitant. The valet smiled. And now he says that the business of the Batzar must wait, for the Star of ndian cos to speak on a matter that turns the fate of all.
At this, a susurrus of restless motion shivered through the room. Doors to the side opened; eight n entered bearing a massive palanquin, wrought with tal and crystal. Amid this cage of glass sat Leire, stiff-backed in a chair. She looked down imperiously as the n carried her to the center with a deliberate, asured pace. They lowered her to the grass and retreated; even then, the height of the palanquin was such that Leires seat towered over the others.
The room was utterly quiet as the doors to the outside shut once more. Leires chin ca up as she surveyed the Batzar with an imperious glare; her eyes marked everyone at the table before she began to speak.
It has been long since I exercised the privilege of my office, she said, her voice snapping with crisp ndiko consonants; Unai translated her word-for-word with a grimly-reverent tone. Long since I sat under the oak. The Star should watch from afar, bright and distant, only descending in the hour of greatest need.
Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair, white-knuckled. So mark well that I am here, she said. The falling star heralds calamity. I co before you today to speak of the destruction of ndian, and the death of all that you love.
At this, the quiet gripping the batzarkideak broke; a few shouted, others shot to their feet, and one man with a solid build and thick, dark hair glared up at her with a baleful expression. Unais voice was thick with distaste as he relayed the mans words.
You overstep! the man shouted. Authority is not given to you to threaten-
Sit. Leire said, her voice a whip-crack even from the confines of the palanquin. She did not move save to narrow her eyes disinterestedly. Authority is not given to you, Batzarkidea ndoza, to speak while I am speaking.
She held her gaze on him until the man slowly sat down; after a few monts she spoke once more. This oak that shades us has always been the symbol of ndian - not of the ndiko, for we were not always united. Of ndian, of the ndiko union that exists for one reason alone: to safeguard our lands from the south.
Leire let her words hang in the air for a mont before continuing. The south is embroiled in conflict, she said. Conflict that we have encouraged for our own benefit. The Gharic lands are washed with the blood of Safid and Ardan soldiers, of Daressan won and children. anwhile ndian grows like our oak. Healthy, yes. But stagnant. Sheltered. Confined by a fragile shield.
She stood from her chair, gesturing upward. And what if that shield should break? she asked. Would the oak survive, after so long without feeling the wind and rain?
Her hand lingered, extended, her fingers spreading wide - and then clenching into a fist. Cracks spidered through the glass panes overhead, the supports bending with a tallic groan. Panic took the room; so of the batzarkideak turned to the doors, only to find that they had been replaced by a stretch of blank wall. Others hid under the desk, or sat in mute astonishnt as they watched shards of glass drop from above.
Would the oak survive? Leire thundered, the glass walls of her palanquin crumbling to dust. She stood tall as the do continued to drop around her, a radiant nimbus building around her body. When Safid guns deliver death to our people, and Goitxea burns?
The whistle of shells sounded from overhead; more glass tumbled down as their concussions rocked the room. The few people standing dove for cover, save one; Michael saw Antolin leaning against a back wall, shaking his head with a bemused smile.
A shell struck the oaks trunk, splintering it and kindling a fire in the wood. There was a great shout from the room, fear and dismay pulsing from them so strongly that Michael nearly sank to a knee. Unai grabbed his arm firmly, keeping him upright as the flas roared up into the branches.
So ends ndian! Leire roared, shining painfully bright. So ends a foolish people, complacent and soft! Look at this fire, let it sear itself into your mind, for if you forget the danger waiting for us in the world-
There was a shift; the thunder of shells and the roar of the fire disappeared. The do once again stretched overhead, and no glass carpeted the chamber. The great oak, however, still lood blackened and twisted behind Leires undamaged palanquin. She sat within, as if she had never moved, staring grimly out at the batzarkideak.
Beside her was Sobriquet, breathing hard; sweat beaded her face and dripped with each exhilarated breath. Her wild grin was a marked contrast to Leires scowl, although Michael could feel Leires amusent as she watched the stunned mbers of the Batzar slowly rise to their feet.
-then you will see it here in truth, Leire said mildly. And it will be too late to stop it.
The first to collect himself was ndoza, who staggered forward with his hair in disarray and sweat staining his collar. What have you done? he asked, staring up at the blackened tree. The oak-
What of it? Leire asked. The oak is the symbol of ndian, and I say that its current appearance is one befitting our state. What is your plan for the years after my death, when the shield protecting you fails?
The sa as ever, ndoza retorted. You do not represent the entire defense of ndian. We will persevere in your absence, and seek the next holder of the Star.
Leire smiled a small, predatory smile. Is that so? she said. Grand Marshal Errea, how do you think we would fare against the forces of Saf if the Star of ndian passed into their control?
Antolin gave Leire a long, level stare - then sighed and straightened up. The batzarkideak turned to look at him, still vaguely disoriented from the assault of sound and noise they had experienced earlier.
As youre well aware, he said, weve run exercises approximating that scenario as recently as last year. The results of those exercises were - discouraging.
How discouraging? ndoza asked.
Antolin slowly turned to look at him. A likely defeat within the first ten to twenty years, he said.
A clamor erupted as the batzarkideak began talking over each other, voices raised in protest; ndozas voice cut through them all. This seems like information that would have been of interest to the Batzar, he said, his voice strained. The tendons in his neck were visible, his face reddening. Grand Marshal Errea, why was this not brought forward sooner?
Not brought forward? another man asked, walking forward; he was a tall, thin man with a neat black goatee and a shaved head. Batzarkidea ndoza, did you perhaps not receive the annual defense report at the start of the year? I seem to recall that it was rather dire.
ndoza turned to glare at him. That report, Batzarkidea Lekubarri, said nothing about the potential defeat of ndian by the Safid.
It did not, Lekubarri admitted. In its final draft. After it was thoroughly edited for clarity and accuracy and all manner of lovely things. But Im curious, Grand Marshal Errea - before it was submitted to our scrupulously-neutral editors, what was the primary recomndation of your report?
That we prepare for inevitable ard conflict within the next decade, Antolin said. And that we prepare to intervene proactively in order to stave off a more-destructive conflict later.
Again, voices clamored against each other in a chaotic press until Lekubarri struck the table with his fist. The others turned to look, and the thin batzarkidea raised an eyebrow. Given the unusual and delightful visit from Her Radiance, might I suggest that we return to order? She has posed a problem to us, and yet still she stands ready to address the Batzar. Perhaps she also cos to pose a solution?
He turned and walked back to his seat, but not before Michael saw him wink slyly at Leire; the corner of her mouth turned upward. Batzarkidea Lekubarri is correct, she said. Fortune has favored us with a solution: I have a thod by which I am confident we may retain my soul within ndians borders. She raised a finger. But it requires a price. Honored Batzarkideak, this chamber must move to declare the ongoing occupation of Daressa by Ardan and Safid forces as an offense to human dignity as specified in article five of the Grand Charter.
It was as if the mock shelling had resud anew; shouting echoed down from the do and made it temporarily impossible to hear anyone clearly. From the fracas, however, a small group of batzarkideak erged to shout at Leire.
You would demand that we abandon our neutrality over a Gharic conflict? ndoza demanded. How does this safeguard ndian?
Im so glad you asked, Leire said, smiling down at Sobriquet.
She mirrored the smile, clenched her fist-
At once, Michael was standing in the dusty streets of Leik, looking down a long avenue strewn with rubble. His stomach clenched at the mory; he knew this street. He had walked it before, weeks ago, to search for evidence of Ardan involvent in the shelling.
And indeed, there Michael was. An image of him staggered up from the rubble, helped along by Gerard. Vernon, Clair and Charles followed. Michael felt another pang of emotion at seeing their faces again; he looked over at Sobriquet and saw her motionless, jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut in concentration.
The chamber was silent as they took in the scene, blinking at the bright sunlight or screwing up their faces at the scent of charred flesh and rot.
Leik, Leire said. As it was on the seventh of this month. Tens of thousands of Daressans dead. Still more injured or left holess. An attack, we were told, by the Safid. Yet in actuality those dead were murdered by the Ardans to lay bla upon their rivals, in the hopes that we would strike a blow against them.
Michael saw that so of the mbers wore expressions of shock; it had evidently not been common knowledge. Others did not show surprise, however; ndoza, Lekubarri and several more looked on impassively.
We knew this, of course, Leire continued. Yet we struck a blow against the Safid anyway, because it was a rare chance to do so without abandoning our precious neutrality.
The drone of engines sounded; the sky darkened as the ndiko strike group arrived at the city. Their sleek fighters raced out to the bay, and the minute figure of Leire herself stood on the airship. Light struck out from her to annihilate one Safid ship, then two.
I killed thousands of n that day, Leire said. Her voice was quiet, yet carried to the entirety of the room. In the air above victims they did not murder, while the true murderers cheered my coming. Cheered that the gullible ndiko had taken the bait, and that all they had to do in order to secure our aid was murder fifty thousand people.
Michael heard the cheers on the breeze as it picked up around them, the storm wall forming around the city. Wind blew dust from the ground, although no clothes or hair blew - it was Sobriquets wind, and could touch nothing real.
Enough of this farce, ndoza called out. That decision was made by the courts, and it stands unchallenged. I mourn the loss of so many, as do we all, but it is not cause to throw ndians greatest shield away no matter how much sympathy we may feel. He glared at Sobriquet. Or how convincing an illusion you might muster. We are not children to be frightened by such things.
You seed frightened enough, Lekubarri observed from the side. I was about to ask Her Radiance if she might introduce her guest, but if you require a new set of trousers I would support a recess.
ndoza scowled, but did not respond to the barb; he made a dismissive gesture and turned back to his seat. Get on with it, then, he snapped.
The illusion vanished, the confines of the Batzar materializing around them once more. Sobriquet sighed, relaxing as her eyes opened with a look of satisfied exertion; she caught Michaels eye and smiled before turning a much less friendly look on ndoza and his cohort.
This is no re guest, Leire said, favoring Lekubarri with a smile. This is the de facto representative of the Daressan people in ndian. She bears the soul of the Whisperer. Before the room could react to her revelation, Leire turned to the other side. And this, she said, is the man who will secure my soul within ndiko borders. He bears the soul of the Gardener.
The room erupted once more, but Michael paid it no attention; as planned, he walked over the blackened husk of the oak tree and laid his hand upon it - feeling only whole, healthy bark underneath. He smiled as Sobriquets remaining illusion began to fall away from the tree, ethereal leaves bursting forth from the charcoal and fading to reveal the truth beneath.
By the ti the tree was fully restored the room had fallen silent.
There will be questions, Leire said. And I will answer them in full. But our decision is this, and it is one that only you may make: shall we welco the horrors of war to ndian, or shall we intervene to right an injustice that we purposefully left to fester? Shall we face the coming conflict with the Star, the Whisperer and the Gardener at our side - or none of those?
She stood again from her chair. Their price for assistance is that we hold true to our own laws. That we uphold the principles of freedom and self-determination that we claim as the right of all people, and not just the ndiko. Leire glared down at them, a soft light playing about her in an echo of Sobriquets prior illusion.
As the Star of ndian, I call for a vote on the matter - that ndian may survive.
Michael watched the chamber dissolve into chaos once more. He let the noise wash over him for a brief mont before he sighed, shook his head and walked over to stand alongside Sobriquet.
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