by Dasrim Hasik
He knew from taking over the leadership duties for the rebel faction that people really weren't equipped to handle their own lives.
Yes, he felt that was a massive contradiction, considering how desperately he wanted to break out of the class struggle as a boy.
He had seen what people had done to his parents when they thought they could get away with it. Thankfully, the tragedy of his life only fueled the fire for his revenge.
In a way, the boy king was a neutral party. In another life, maybe Jackson Stonewell and he would be friends. Maybe they would work for the same goals. However, the only life had to work with was now, and he despised the boy king.
He despised the fact that the boy stumbled into a life beyond his imagination and was allowed to keep it merely because he found it. What credentials did he really have to be king?
Raest should be king then, by that standard. He could rule a nation and manifest with the same intensity. But he didn't feel the need to go on broadcasts and manifest things just to be liked. Raest didn't really care what people thought of him.
Taking over the rebels had been child's play. He simply had to demonstrate more power than everyone else. Then everyone fell to him and worshipped him, as they ell should. It was something that pleased him.
He knew that not everyone liked him and some even hated him enough to want to overthrow him. But those fools would never be able to touch him. They didn't know his weaknesses, the secrets that he kept tightly locked away in his mind.
There were things that even kept him up at night, but he would never confide in a living soul. He didn't need to. He traced his hands over the crystal cords one more time, and then put them away. It would be time to go to the rebel faction meeting and tell the men what would happen next.
The walk to the meeting hall was very short. Unlike the rest of the Reversian set, he didn't feel the need to teleport himself around.
That was a waste of mental power, power that could be stored and used for other purposes. He would rather walk anyway. It felt good to feel his body move and adapt to each environment.
This made him tougher and much harder to get rid of. Reversians were naturally soft due to not using their muscles appropriately. Teleporting yourself around didn't build endurance or stamina -- two things that Raest had plenty of.
He reached the meeting hall and swung the doors open, not surprised that people were looking at him. He wanted them to look.
He wanted them to look upon him and know that he could not be stopped by them. He was truly a satisfied mind that knew where he was going -- who could stop him if he really felt so strongly about the world around him?
His second in command greeted him warmly. He liked Delise Ridgeway. The men scoffed that a woman ruled over them in his absence, but Delise had proven herself a thousand times. There was no need to test her again.
He knew that he could die in the rebel wars and Delise would run the faction smoothly. She had the same truth about her as he did -- they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted.
They would not give up until their agendas were fulfilled. They would not back down just because things had changed in Reversia. If Delise had a heart, she certainly didn't show it.
He didn't need to beat it out of her. He had watched her rise through the ranks, cleverly manipulating others into either betraying the cause, or getting sidetracked.
He wanted that type of brilliant mind at his side for a thousand reasons. It was definitely something that could make or break his agenda -- and Delise served his agenda well.
If he had to give in to his base desires about the world, he would admit that Delise was also good looking, and that made a difference. They never broadcast the fact that they had shared a room a thousand times.
It was just a business transaction between them. There was no love in what they did, or even lust for that matter. It was more a mechanical satisfaction, but neither party complained.
She smiled brightly.
"High Lord."
"Second."
"As long as I am able, as long as you will have me."
It was an old exchange, but one that never failed to make Raest pleased by its recitation. Delise was fiercely loyal to the cause.
She had been born into the servant class and thrown into a family that lived to torment her. She tried to run away and was captured every single time, with each punishment far more sinister than the last.
The scars on her body never turned his stomach, but he knew why such a stunning woman was rejected time after time. Most men couldn't see the beauty that lay under the horror, but he could.
He also didn't ask Delise to care about him, or anyone else. He made sure the men didn't mess with her, out of respect for her talents. He didn't condone the men forcing themselves on anyone. There were far too many women willing to run after those who weren't.
"Please sit down, my fellow freedom fighters. We have much to discuss."
"Yeah, like the fact the boy king built a hospital! I bet nobody from Schaler would be welcome. All welcome, except for those that have a spine and refuse to kiss the king's schatra!" Raest twisted his scarred lips into a smile and waved a hand.
"So he built a hospital. He doesn't have the skill to actually manifest the stability. Not enough people showed up. Besides, everyone is happy about thins for the time being. But he's going to have to do better than a hospital that the elite will just take over in good time. He’s still with the Councilman's daughter."
"Really? Then why is that merchant girl pictured with him time after time? I don't think it's just counsel that she's giving him."
There was some snickering in the audience, and Raest coughed to silence the side chatter. There were more important matters to discuss. They moved away from the boy king and onto other business affairs, such as the fact that Schaler needed more supplies.
Some Cities would trade with Schaler, but only under certain conditions -- like not having such trading be broadcast to the City of Reversia. Nobody knew what Jackson Stonewell would honestly do if the Cities around him were actively trading with Schaler.
There were children born into the rebel colony, and they still needed to be fed. The City was not known for agriculture, but it did have plenty of people with mental skills high enough to build things.
There was a thriving black market for all manner of products from Schaler; products that would probably make the boy king spin in circles. Espionage and treachery were old hat for those in Schaler, and living in the colony meant that you knew you couldn't trust anyone.
Rebels only worked for their own agenda and no one else's, so there was no way to really fight back and hope to win. There could be really no way to win -- only ways to lose.
Nobody in Schaler really wanted to lose the rebel war -- the penalty for treason was either lifetime imprisonment on the prison planet, or death. The conditions on the prison planet were so bad that most opted for death instead.
At least they might have a chance to cycle into a new life, even though they would have no real memory of the life they left behind.
The sentiment in the room was mixed. Most felt that the war had come to a standstill. Raest also knew that there were those that silently wanted to align with the boy kin, especially after that lousy Call of the World broadcast.
Political bluster didn't faze him, and that's what he felt the speeches were all about. The boy king wanted power like any other king, so why should he feed into that?
Why should he watch comrades and soldiers in arms think that there was a better life out there was Raest couldn't provide them? He would silence them all soon enough, but there was plenty of time for that.
For the time being, he would just sit and observe who was still staunchly for the cause, and who wasn't. He didn't want to think that he had traitors in his midst, but he wasn't stupid. Spies often had shifting loyalties. Eventually, the lies would come out and he would deal with the rats accordingly.
He smiled to himself and cont
inued with the meeting, pleased to be around kindred spirits. He never aimed to get complete support. As with most revolutions, the majority aligned for a higher purpose would do
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Copyright & Disclaimer
Copyright © 2012 by Dasrim Hasik
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Home and Hearth
Chapter 2: Midpoints
Chapter 3: Foundations and Frustrations
Chapter 4: Green Shoots and New Beginnings
Chapter 5: No Way Out
Chapter 6: Call of the World
Chapter 7: Sight Beyond Sight
Chapter 8: Feeling Brand New
Chapter 9: Healing Fresh Wounds
Chapter 10: A Satisfied Mind