Chapter 22 - Grand Fall

  The skies had been merciful for a cycle straight, Odain noted. An abnormality for Sowing Season. Farmers would be wanting rains for their fields. Too long without it and some might fear that rain would come on Triluna day, ruining an event they so hopelessly looked toward.

  It was unimaginative to celebrate something as drab as the changing of seasons. If fetes were to be had, they ought to be held in honor of great accomplishments. Accomplishments such as scientific or magical breakthroughs. Achievements wrought after endless years of toil and sacrifice.

  'What sin did we commit?' Odain read from a tome in his lap. His focus broke as the carriage he rode in lurched. Now and then, the the wheels caught a jagged rock, or an unruly root from trees on the roadside. A mild irritation, but an irritation nonetheless.

  Across from Odain sat the queen, silent and still, eyes to her lap and back straight. He'd made her sit that way, but he'd long since released her from those specific orders. Odain wondered if she had at all noticed that she could speak or change positions. She seemed oblivious, lost in her own sea of thoughts. Or perhaps she suffered from the throes of love. There was a noticeable drag in anything she was made to do since Azurus had been sent from her side.

  Odain went on reading. 'We read. We wrote. We recited. Knowledge was our thirst, and Her love the drink. We appeased Her. We loved Her. We worshipped Her.

  Our lives were Hers. Every waking moment dedicated to the One who'd made us. We sought to learn more of Her, understand Her better. Understand She who'd made us to better worship Her, so that She might love us back. So that She might one day smile when looking down at Her creations.

  None of us erred. Everything was accounted for, everything methodical. Every task carried out as it had been asked to. For ages, serenity persisted. For ages, all was bliss. All was wonderful.

  But we wanted more. We wanted assurance that this peace would endure eternities. She stayed silent. And so we sought an answer. Sought the meaning behind Her silence. All we wanted was reassurance. All we wanted was a conversation. Or just a phrase. A few words would have been enough. When we were this close to reaching Her…

  Again I ask. What sin did we commit?'

  A piece written by the now lost Astari scholars beneath whom Odain had once tutored. He was the last remnant of that ancient sect who'd come within touching distance of that which people of this era called 'The Creator'.

  What sin indeed, he thought, reading over those words again. He'd transcribed these same words to new tomes several times. Paper never did stand the test of time for too long. The tome before him was a personal belonging of words from a distant past. One of few accurate history books he'd penned. The accurate ones, of course, were not to be circulated throughout the world —only those he'd written under several different names and scholarly guises to change history over the centuries were out there to be examined by the eyes of others.

  “Aah. Aah baa,” Emeria said.

  Odain looked up, eyes narrowed.

  “I can speak,” the queen announced. She rolled her shoulders with a groan and shifted her position, raising both legs to the seat and sitting with arms tucked around them. The skirt of her ivory dress was practical, not at all long or tight, with the barest of frills at the hems. She pulled the skirt up farther than appropriate to give her knees breathing room. “I can move too. Why the frown, Vicegerent, when you can shut me up anyti—”

  Emeria cut off abruptly as she would when Odain imagined the order of silence. Only, he hadn't ordered it this time. His eyes narrowed further as he touched the silver ring on his finger, glancing up at the Crown of Control Emeria wore. “Why did you cut off?” he asked.

  “You shut me up.”

  “I did no such thing.

  Emeria frowned. “Then why…?”

  Odain raised a brow. This was new. She was still fighting against him. Not quite broken, then. Ever humans hold on to the concept of a better future and an external savior. Odd how no scholar has yet written a book on the fallacy that is hope. Or providence for that matter.

  For the queen's part, she wasn't a bad actor at all. Anyone else and she might have had them fooled. “Whatever it is you're doing is futile, Emeria,” he said. Better to let her know so she felt even more demoralized.

  “And what is it that I'm doing, other than sharing a carriage with a Flame Scorched son of—”

  This time Odain did shut her up. He closed his tome, noticing her eyes on it, as if trying to read the letters upside down. “You sat in the position I ordered you stay in for a lengthy period of time. I'd released you earlier, and you figured that out, I imagine. Then you proceeded to raise your skirt above your legs as if to distract me, and pretended to shut up when being irritating to give me a sense of power that I do not possess. What was the plan here, your majesty? To make me think I had you in control when I in fact did not? Were you planning to use that to run away?”

  Emeria turned her head and stared out the carriage window, feigning disinterest. She could not hide the frustration from showing in her twitching eyelids. “At least you admit you were irritated.”

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  “You can't run, child. So long as you're wearing the crown, I can give you orders from across the world.” A theory Odain had not tested, but better the queen believed it than cause trouble down the line. Could just use a gatestone and test the theory one of these days…

  Emeria did seem to believe it with the way she hugged herself tighter. Odain kept an eye on her for several moments before returning to opening his tome.

  “Why are we going to Heira?” she asked at that exact moment.

  Odain closed his book, stopping himself from sighing lest he let Emeria know she'd succeeded in irritating him again. “We go because the people of Heira are unsettled,” he said in a neutral tone. “They've a mass of refugees to deal with, and tensions grow. A showing from the queen expressing her faith in Trillia will appease the masses, as well as ease tensions when we hand out aid. You will deliver a speech, and call the people to the faith, and denounce any who resist —especially pagans still believing in the wicked Laws of the Eternal Flame.”

  “You want the people turning on unbelievers?”

  “Easing tensions does not remove them entirely,” Odain went on. “That is something far more difficult. Tension, of course, is a source of energy. Give the riled people an outlet for their ire, and suddenly you've a zealous army to be called wherever, whenever. You will be giving a similar such speech at every major city throughout the next two years.”

  “I won't have my people turning on themselves! And I most certainly won't turn them into bodies for whatever war you're planning!”

  Odain felt folds appear in his face. “Again with the redundancy,” he muttered. “What point is there in saying you won't do something when I'll make sure that you will?” Emeria's expression changed, and he could see the outburst coming before it happened. Odain kept her jaw shut through a silent order, and forced her to sit back in that straight position. “Very soon, there will be nothing left in Xenaria but my faithful,” he continued. “And then I can turn on Duke Serene and force his hand without bloodshed. Of course, if he still chooses that route, he'll become a villain to all Xenaria, and I can raise a holy militia without expending any real soldiers for the battle.”

  Odain clasped his hands and leaned back in his seat, feeling the subtle jolt of the carriage wheel climbing over a particularly large rock. The convoy moved slow, a journey that would take the better part of two months. That meant these guards would not get a chance to celebrate the Triluna festival with their families. A shame, one might suppose.

  The capital's festivities had been left to the nobility in the queen's council in her absence. They would surely make a royal mess of things, using this as an opportunity to embezzle funds and the like. A trite matter. One dealt with when time came. For those types who believed themselves safe through the use of careful political machinations, the best solution was overwhelming violence.

  Yes, when all of Xenaria had left behind the heinous Laws of the Eternal Flame, when all trace of House Zz'tai was removed from Illusterra, Xenaria would go through a true reckoning. A reckoning that would lead to enlightenment and a bright new future. And all Illusterra would follow therewith.

  Then, and only then, would the Astari dream be realized.

  Odain glanced at Emeria again, noticing her staring at him. Perhaps she had something amusing to say about his remarks on House Serene. He released her jaw letting her speak.

  “Lord Serene won't cow to the likes of you. He'll beat you down. Elizia will put an arrow through your chest. You'll—”

  That's enough of that. Emeria was detestable. She was slow of it, stubborn, and incapable of accepting reality. “You'd rather your friends die uselessly than accept the guidance of Trillia, child? You'd rather your people kill each other? This would hardly be an issue if Lord Serene gave a permit to build Trillian temples in Metsiphon. You think he'll fight when he's hardly been stable since his wife was put under a death spell?”

  Emeria was grinding her teeth. She had more to say no doubt. Amusing to think she could still muster such striking words when she'd tried killing herself once.

  An arrow through the chest… there could be a dozen of those and it wouldn't change a thing. “I could starve him if I like,” Odain said. “I can order Lord Galadin to stop supplying him iron. I can order Lord Caranel to remove all food exports to Kalin Serene. I could cripple him tomorrow, child. Do you see now how futile your outbursts are?”

  She didn't, if her quiet seething were any indication. Perhaps I'm the fool in this for bothering to explain everything to her. “Kalin Serene is useful as a watchdog keeping guard of the border. Once I'm ready, I'll remove him from his position swiftly.”

  “I'm going to shove a Flaming torch up your—”

  Odain closed his eyes, admitting to himself that he indeed was the fool for releasing Emeria's speech again. It was interesting if anything, the sheer creativity of her insults at times and the imaginative torture methods she came up with.

  Odain returned to pondering on his Chronary research. He'd made progress towards creating Heartless. Or so he thought. He'd tested his theories on imprisoned criminals, turning them into grotesque things that died shortly afterwards. The hardest part was creating a living thing without a heart at all. Not only did the person have to be broken enough to accept such a transformation, but they would have to believe that giving up their heart for the sake of vengeance was a rational idea. On top of that, the proper Chronary phrase completely pure of contradiction and able to not only transform a man into a semi-controllable demon, but also able to keep a heartless body moving and living…

  So, so difficult.

  Azurus on the other hand… that boy's research had progressed brilliantly. He had the mind of a scholar, that one. A shame he'd been turned into a sword swinging brute. Though, he'd been talented at that too, it was said. An orphan boy born gifted in every aspect…

  So similar, him and I. Azurus sought to make an immortal army, one tethered to him and obeying his every order. Such a thing Odain had long figured out. He passed hints here and there to the boy, letting him work out the details on his own. It was a concept that would never work on humans. Or at least, Odain had not discovered this. What Azurus required were semi sentient beings that could easily be controlled. Those such as imps and ratmen living in the lightless spaces beneath the earth's surface…

  Alas, tethering those to himself would result in the shattering of his own mind.

  A shame, for that boy would have made a powerful Heartless. Or perhaps even a successor to the Astari scholars of old. Azurus would be arriving at Qalydon in a few short days to recruit the pirates of the Aegis Basin. That would cripple High House Coraine and prevent any alliances between them and High House Serene. Odain wasn't certain how much wealth Tilda Coraine was in possession of, but better not to take chances. Rumors had it her husband had amassed enough to purchase a city. Such wealth could have been used to hire an army. A timely fortune for Theodore Coraine to have died when he did.

  Everything had come together so nicely since Eildred Aegis' departure from the former queen's side. I should pay him a visit when we return to the capital. Let him know of all the actions his poor niece has taken to the detriment of this nation. And of course let him know just how poorly his successor is managing in his place.

  The High Houses were broken. None remained from among the Flame Bearers of old. None remained to oppose the descent of Xenaria. The kingdom was poised for a grand fall. All these long years of preparing will finally bear their merits.