Humans were capable of performing an amazing amount of mental gymnastics for the purpose of belonging, whether they were aware of it or not, Viv thought. She was no exception. When Solfis had made his speech on the plaza, the roars of so many throats had carried her away and she had not stopped to think, to criticize. It was normal. The sort of myth that sent people to war and possibly death could only be embellished. Some of the elements had to be glossed over, like the fact that the empire had not been ‘just’ as Solfis claimed. No empire with slave markets could be just. Freedom and punishment could never be traded on a marketplace. Instead, the Harrakan empire had been fairly dickish to everyone in equal measure. That didn't send bakers charging into enemy battlelines spears first, however. A beautiful lie could achieve more than a hundred truths.
And that was precisely why it was so important to develop critical thinking, so that one could take a step back before they went too far.
And also to destroy other people’s beautiful lies.
“No, please, do explain why you wish to renegotiate the agreement.”
The bishop smoldered in sullen silence. He had been merely dismissive of Viv before, whom he saw as a fortunate upstart. He was taking her more seriously now, if only as a pest. Since he declined to answer in haughty silence, Viv decided to use that opportunity. It was, her papa believed, never good to remain silent in a political struggle. It was akin to wrestling in a pigsty. You could stand upright in the armor of your dignity but that just meant that others were free to smear shit all over your face.
“Farren managed to land a contract that not just protected the victims of tyranny, but also guaranteed an immediate iron ingot output while it would have taken years to install and develop those facilities. The iron bars are of extremely high quality and purified via brown mana.”
The man was still silent. Viv would not let go
“You know what I think?” she asked, as the temple guard, the bishop, and a witch hanger on made their way deeper into the mines of Min Goles.
“I think you should go back to Kazar because this is NONE OF YOUR CONCERN!” The bishop screamed.
“I think that you’re unhappy that a junior member achieved so much and without input. I think that you have come to break the church’s word.”
“He had no right to negotiate this to begin with!”
“I wonder what the head of the order would think about that?”
“You have no idea about what your betters think, woman.”
“I think we should ask him, then. Ask him if it’s a good idea to evict contract-abiding Yries from their new home just to free a chunk of future potential metal. I wonder what he would have to say about that.”
“He would probably say that a cold mind must serve a warm heart, and that we should never have given up the mine to begin with!”
“The Yries were here first, as I’m sure they’ll tell you.”
“They! Are not! Humans!”
The columns stopped as Bishop Erland spat his words in Viv’s face, who was doing her best not to smile.
“Is that the official stance of the church?”
“I am the official stance of the church right now. If you have any complaints, direct them to the head of the order in Mornyr. Now leave us alone. You will accomplish nothing here.”
“I notice that you didn’t deny the eviction. That’s why you asked the temple guards to come, because you knew that your terms are unacceptable, unfair, and cruel.”
“You are a naive, stupid little girl talking about things you do not understand.”
“I understand eviction and oathbreakers.”
“Stop,” a voice said.
Viv stopped a smirk from blooming on her face while Lorn, the veteran knight, the bearded, grizzled veteran of a veteran company turned and stood before his hierarchical superior.
Some of the Neriad veterans had seen Solfis, Irao, and Solar in action. With those old monsters around, it was pretty easy to forget that Lorn was at the peak of the fourth step, and that he was absolutely not to be fucked with. Viv had never forgotten.
“You said negotiate and I didn’t like it. Now you say evict and I like it even less.”
“I didn’t say it. She did.”
“Enough with the wordy bullshit.”
“You will watch your tongue, captain. I always said that the frontier fostered lack of discipline. Do not force me to take measures.”
Viv watched the pair glare at each other, and the bishop progressively relaxed when Lorn failed to act. Viv thought the bishop was a complete dumbass, and only the most obtuse cretin could fail to see that the experienced fighter was two fingers away from giving his obnoxious superior a nice serving of knuckles. When Lorn finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth.
“Company… about face!”
Like a single man, the entire corps of temple guards pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees, showing the bishop quite a collection of metal-clad asses.
“What are… What is the meaning of this?” Erland sputtered, disbelief clear on his traits.
“I hereby claim the moral exemption. Neriad as my witness, your orders go against the values of the temple as I see them.”
“You are to escort me! Nothing more!”
“Your objective is immoral and, under the provision, I refuse to entertain it.”
“This is nothing short of insubordination, Lorn! You have lost your mind. Who is next in command?”
“That would be me sir,” Koro said from the front.
“You are to take command of the column, effective immediately.”
“Fine by me! I claim the whatever it is the captain said. I ain’t no backstabbing bitch. Company, forwardddddd march!”
“You would leave me here?” The bishop asked with some disbelief as Viv turned as well.
“You are free to follow us,” Lorn answered dispassionately. “I do not care either way.”
The temple guard plus Viv departed, leaving the bishop behind with the four soldiers that had protected him since Enoria. The outlander truly expected Erland to follow. It was, by far, the most rational decision.
“Fine, you rebels. Fine! I’ll do it myself then.”
Viv smiled to herself. Lorn slowed down to walk by her side.
“Your plan all along, I assume?” He asked.
“One of the better outcomes. He caught me off-guard.”
“Neriad might not like it, and you had his favor.”
Viv looked the man in the eyes and unfolded her soul to make sure he could feel the sincerity in her words. The conviction.
“The Yries have respected the letter and spirit of our alliance all this time and I will not abandon them for the sake of convenience. Same for the Hadals, you, or anyone on my side. I doubt that this displeases Neriad, and even if it did, I would protect them anyway. As for undermining the bishop’s authority, righteous combat doesn’t mean stupid combat. I will not hurt civilians, I will take care of prisoners, but for everyone else… it’s open season.”
Lorn nodded slowly, though she didn’t know if it was acceptance or agreement. It was kind of fun to see the gears grind in his mind and his face turn into a mask of horror.
“Your Grace… where is Solfis?”
“I am willing to swear that I do not know.”
***
“Back! Back! Sir, you have to go!”
Erland stumbled into a side corridor and smashed his staff against the ground. One of those strange mole monsters was ejected and one of his surviving guards stabbed it, but the blade got stuck into the creature’s thick hide despite the power of the blow. Another man slipped on sand that had not been here a moment before. Erland touched a wound, closing it. If only the Kazarans had stayed… Those tunnels were supposed to be secured! How had the monsters gotten there?
“Sir, you have to go!”
Erland was a healer. He could keep the men going but he could not stop them from getting dragged into a snarling mass of fangs and claws.
“Go!”
Erland was pushed. He turned and ran. There was nothing he could do to save those people.
This should not have happened.
He had a mission, a purpose. The iron mines were wasted under the fingers of an orphan upstart like Farren. The stupid boy had already squandered part of it to non-humans before exploitation had even started. Erland’s cause was just. Just! So why had it come to this?
His strides carried him forward and away from the combat, though he could hear the clicks of pursuing claws. Erland might not be a fighter but he knew how to run for a long time.
He tripped.
The ground was hard and dusty. It was also normally flat. Something had slammed into his tibia and it hurt like hell. Shivering, he brandished his staff and called for light. A golden halo expanded all around, showing gray rock walls and little else.
“I know you are here, servant of evil! Who do you serve? Efestar? Octas? Justice will come for you.”
Nothing replied as the claws on stone raced towards him. He had to try and survive.
And then, something grabbed his staff with titanic strength. It tore the weapon from his grasp with casual ease. The source of the golden light disappeared towards the ceiling, and from there, a familiar voice echoed.
//THERE ARE NO SCHEMING AGENTS HERE.
//NO COMPETING GODS.
//THERE ARE ONLY THE BEASTS.
//THE DARKNESS.
//AND ME.
The pack caught up to him.
***
The time had come to work on herself, so to speak. The interface granted by Nous had only one purpose: to help people understand and use the magic of the world to their advantage. It was more of a help than a requirement since her steady progress had come from hard work and practice, not from staring at numbers. It was still a useful tool she had neglected over the past month for obvious reasons. Now that Enoria’s blow had been deflected and she was on her way to a lonely trip, she would have to rely on her own abilities again. Her focus would be on self-improvement.
Current status:
Mana channels (mage)
Extreme compatibility
Divine spark: luck
Draconic Surrogate Mother
Mana distribution:
Black 100%
Current attunement: 27.6%