by Rick Field
Feeling ashamed at her inner reaction, she tried to answer his concerns levelly, ignoring the disrespectful tone and the attempt at physical intimidation. It was likely the man would never even realize how close he had come to death right then. “You were a foreign invader who managed to breach the Great Barrier,” she stated. “Since then, you have been treated, released from prison, received new clothes, food, drink, allowed to bathe, and been cleared of wrongdoing. In regards to your future, you asked for my opinion, I gave you what I believed to be the most logical options. It is possible my superiors will choose another, or they may not. I cannot help it that you do not like my thoughts. If you did not want to hear them, you should not have asked.”
He scowled at her, and she simply stepped past him, continuing on her path. “I would urge you to pose your questions wisely; if you do not wish to hear the answer, do not ask them. I am making allowances for your foreign morals and the pressure you have been under these last few days.”
The Pillar didn't bother to look behind her, she knew it was more than likely the man was stewing in anger and frustration. She could empathize, she hadn't enjoyed her foray beyond the Great Barrier as well. Different cultures unnerved her; there was a very good reason why she usually remained inside the borders of her island home.
His footsteps finally caught up to her, and he remained silent as they walked.
It was close to half an hour before the silence was broken. “Can I ask a question?” he asked. It seemed half an hour of walking had calmed him down, as his voice was level once more.
For a moment, she entertained the idea to either deny him, or give him a nonsense answer. In the end, she settled for the standard reply she received from Milor whenever she asked permission to pose a question. “As long as I may reserve the right not to answer, feel free to do so,” she told him.
“You explained how some people have a talent in magic and others don't,” he said. “Where does it come from? Does anyone outside of Kiria have it?”
“That is two questions,” she stated, unable to help herself. “Magical talent has always existed, as far as I know. It is no different than a talent in the arts, or in engineering, or anything else, really. So yes, people outside of Kiria have this talent as well.”
Steve looked sardonically at her initial response, then listened attentively to her answer. “So why is it that I've never heard of people with real magical skills before?”
Liane thought for a short time, pondering a question she had never posed herself. In hindsight, the answer seemed fairly straightforward. “As far as I am aware, the Kirian Academy of Magic is the only institution in the world that teaches magic to those with the talent. Without education, without being able to build on the progress of your predecessors, those in your home country with the talent either don't develop it, or never get very far.”
“So it's not just a question of having the talent?” he wondered.
She shook her head. “Magic has its own rules and limitations, its own theories and ways. Without a sound education, all a gifted practitioner would be able to achieve is that which he can discover for himself. Even a lifetime of experimentation will not match up to a single year of solid education based on hundreds of years of accumulated knowledge.”
“I think I understand,” he whispered, although his time clearly showed that he still struggled.
The teacher inside of Liane couldn't let it rest. “I am sure you have schools as well,” she said, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question. He nodded at her with a small and curious frown, wondering where she was going. “I have not studied in the fields of study taught at your schools. Would I ever be able to construct one of your jet airplanes, using your methods, without such an education?”
He was giving it some honest thought, and Liane gave him both the time to do so and the credit for thinking about what she was saying. Finally, he answered, “You've scanned one, so I think that, with plenty of experimentation, you'd be able to get something that can fly.”
“Ah, yes, that is using my methods,” she told him. “I specifically stated that I would need to use your methods, so as to answer your original question. I would need to use magic to replicate your science, as I have not studied science. If I were especially gifted at it, I might be able to experiment my way into something that could fly – and yet, I sincerely doubt that it would be able to perform as your jet airplane did.”
He nodded. “I think I understand what you're saying. Even the biggest geniuses in my society took hundreds of years to reach powered flight. First the development of the engine, then the propeller, and so on. Without those inventions, all previous attempts at flight failed. So magic is similar? One invention is a stepping stone for the next? And without that foundation, even a gifted magic-user wouldn't be able to do what you do?”
“Exactly,” she replied, pleased that he had understood her explanation. They had reached a secondary road, a single cart's width of stone reaching between outlying farms and their nearest settlement. Without looking, Liane chose a direction.
Steve looked less sure of himself as he followed her. “I don't think I've seen you look at a map since we started,” he said. “Do you know every road in Kiria?”
“No, I don't know every road in Kiria,” the Pillar answered him. “I do know, however, how these roads are laid out. This is a secondary road, the width of a single cart. It slopes slightly toward one side, with a single gutter to remove water. Secondary roads connect outlying farms and buildings with their nearest settlement, with the gutter always on the right side of the road when one walks away from the settlement. Keeping the gutter on your left means that you will always arrive at the settlement.” She pointed to a rune that was inscribed in the gutter's siding. “Those runes indicate the distance from the settlement.”
She saw him look down at the gutter in question, study the rune she pointed at, and nod his head. “That's a good idea, and easy to remember,” he said, staring at the stone surface, obviously studying the way the stones interlocked and every seam was faultless. Finally, he asked, “Can I ask how you build your roads? Your stones interlock so tightly, but I can't see a single tool mark.”
Liane's lips quirked into a faint smile, glad to hear that her country was impressive to their foreign visitor. “All public infrastructure of a large scale is done by Nobles wielding magic. A single Earth-Master could build in a day what would take a thousand Commoners an eternity,” she explained. “Plus, roads created by magic are better in quality than can be done using manual labor.”
“You keep saying 'Nobles',” Steve remarked. “Is that the name you give to people with magic, or is there something else?”
“A Noble is a person who wields magic, and can therefore be responsible for the government of this nation, should they wish to do so,” Liane explained.
Steve stared at her, and she had trouble interpreting his look. “So the only requirement to be in the government is the ability to do magic!?” he finally demanded.
For a few moments, the Pillar debated the best way to answer his question. “The ability to do magic and the willingness to take up responsibility for our nation,” Liane replied.
“That's outrageous!” he shouted, raising Liane's hackles. “You mean your people can't even vote for their own leaders!?”
The Pillar of Kiria stopped walking, forcing the pilot to stop and spin around to face her. Her right hand clenched her staff so tightly her knuckles were white, and a smoldering anger once again burned in her eyes. “It would do you well,” she said with a soft voice half an octave lower than normal, “to remember that you are but a guest in this nation.”
“Where I'm from,” he said, sounding far, far braver than he felt, “Your government is called a dictatorship.”
For a moment, he feared he'd pushed her too far. Her white knuckles popped, her lips pulling back to display a set of perfectly white and straight teeth. She drew a breath, a very deep breath, and slowly let it out. Her fin
gers got their healthy color back, and the burning fire in her eyes petered out. “Yes, it is a dictatorship,” she said. “Backed by oath and vow and magic's judgment. Which is better than the popularity contest you run in your nation, a contest that merely selects the person who can lie the best to people who have no notion or knowledge about running a country.”
She stared walking again, her strides longer and more powerful than they had been before.
He scoffed and paced after her. “Oaths and vows can be broken,” he snapped. “It happens all the time where I'm from. It's why nobody really trusts a politician to speak the truth.”
“So, you agree that your people are ruled by the person who can lie the most convincingly,” Liane retorted. “In Kiria, oaths and vows are quite rarely broken. For Commoners such as yourselves, they are but empty words. For a Noble, invoking an oath or vow has repercussions. If you break your oath or vow, magic will invoke the penalties upon which you have sworn or vowed. Words have power to a Noble, words must be chosen with great care.”
For a few moments, he stared at her with his mouth open. “You mean, your oaths actually hold power? If you take an oath, and you break it, it will actually hurt you?”
She nodded once. “Depending on the oath, if you break it, you will die,” Liane stated. “There are, of course, always ways to break an oath without invoking the penalties involved. Unfortunately for oath-breakers, such treachery is easy to discover.” She switched her staff to her left hand, and held up her right. A few words spilled from her lips, forcing the magic of her oaths and vows to take shape upon the back of it. “This is the representation of the oaths and vows I have sworn. Should I break them, or negate them, this will display such betrayal. Every time I complete an assignment, my supervisor checks this when I enter my report. I would not like to be the person found to have tampered with their oath of office.” For a moment, she thought of Lord Marcel of the Rising Trees. He must have tampered or broken his oath of allegiance to Kiria and the Sovereign to do what he did. She wondered if he would have allowed her to scan his oaths and vows, had she asked. He probably would have refused, just as strongly as he had refused Truth Serum.
Meanwhile, the foreign pilot swallowed deeply. “So people in your government, when they swear themselves in, are actually held to their word,” he whispered. “That's incredible.”
They reached the settlement, and rather than continue, Liane guided them into the tavern. “I could use a drink,” she explained, then went on, “I am the first to admit that Nobles are experts on circumventing oaths and vows without breaking them, and most of it is based on intent and action rather than absolute obedience. However, in the large part, you can say that a Noble in a position of authority will always obey the Emperor and work for the protection of Kiria.” She sat down at an empty table in a corner, reflecting that she wasn't about to explain the country's recent troubles to this foreigner.
Steve sat down on the other side, and was silent for a few moments. “And the Emperor?” he asked. “Does he swear an oath?”
A tavern wench came over, and was dispatched with an order of drinks and a few plates of food. “The Lord Emperor is under even more scrutiny than ordinary Nobles,” she finally explained. “When a young Prince is announced as the successor, he must first pass a test of magic. A device called the Arbitrator of Ascension will judge the young Prince, examine their magic and their mind to judge their worthiness of ruling Kiria. Should they fail, they will not be able to leave the Arbitrator while alive. Should they pass, they will leave as Crown Prince of Kiria.” The wench returned with their orders of food and drink, and Liane busied herself with taking a long pull from the mug of ale. She could use some alcohol right now; the discussions with Steve were getting to her.
“When a Crown Prince succeeds the previous Emperor,” she finally went on, “they swear to maintain, protect, guide, and defend the nation of Kiria.”
He just nodded, digesting the information she had just given him. They ate and drank in silence for a while, only the vague hubbub of other patrons and the clinking of flatware reaching them. “It still doesn't feel right, though,” he finally said. “The people should have a choice of who leads them. Despite how good the Nobles are, and how enforced their oaths and vows are, it's still not right to take the choice away from the people.”
“Even if it means that only the best liars get to rule?” Liane asked, quirking up one eyebrow. For a moment, she shot a gratified thought toward Milor for having shown her that.
“I'll be the first to admit that the system's far from perfect,” Steve answered. “But there are politicians who honestly want to make things better and who do it for the right reasons. It's the people's choice who leads, and that makes it a lot more fair than a system where only a select few are in charge.”
Liane sighed. “The people's choice,” she said. “People who have no concept or knowledge on how to rule? Why should people, who don't know how to run a country, get to decide who gets to lead?”
“Because it is fair?” he asked. “It gives the people a choice, presents them with options. They chose for the person with the agenda they support, and if enough people agree, then that person gets to attempt to make policy.”
“So, in essence, the best liar gets to lead, as long as they have the majority behind them? In essence, the dictatorship of the majority over the minority?” the Pillar asked.
Now it was Steve's turn to sigh. “No, not really,” he said. “There are a lot of balances in the system, so the person elected won't be able to unilaterally shove their agenda down the throats of the other people. It's really rather complicated, and I'm not an expert on the political system so I don't know if I can explain it well enough to you.”
Liane resisted the urge to chuckle. “And yet you have a vote on who leads, despite not knowing the system,” she replied. “Let me show you why your system is flawed.” before Steve could reply, she stood up. “Excuse my interruption,” she said out loud to the entire tavern, immediately bringing the entire establishment to silence.
“I am conducting a small experiment regarding government,” the Pillar went on. She pointed to the tavern wench. “If you were able to choose your government, as a form of contest of popularity, if you will, who would you vote for? What would this person need to promise to do to get your vote?”
The wench flushed bright red at being singled out, and stammered for a few moments. “Ehm... lower taxes?” she mumbled, afraid of upsetting the powerful Noble who was gazing at her. The rest of the tavern goers seemed inclined to support the girl's statement.
Liane nodded. “Very well. Thank you.” she looked around, and spotted a farmer having a quiet drink. “What would have to be the promise for you?” she asked him.
“Ah... ehm... higher prices f'r me goods?” he asked, drawing pale and starting to sweat under the scrutiny.
Liane dipped her head. “Thank you.” she looked around, and found a man sharing a drink with a woman half his age. “How about you two?”
Both paled at being put on the spot. “Ehm... mebbe sum way to help us who di'n fin' a master to apprentice ourselves to?”
The younger woman nodded. “An' make it cheaper fer people to get magic items! An' cheaper power tokens so we ken use 'em!”
Now that they saw that the Noble wasn't about to become angry, more suggestions were being shouted without them even being asked for. Liane listened patiently. “Thank you for your input, and thank you for proving my point about Commoners being unable to see the bigger picture. Congratulations, you have just wrecked Kiria.”
The people were subdued, muttering quietly among themselves. “But... but why, My Lady?” the tavern wench asked, the only one brave enough to actually ask. Liane spun to face her, and the girl flinched.
“All of you asked for things that would help yourselves. Lower the taxes. Force people to pay higher prices for your goods. Give money to people who didn't learn a trade and have no income. Lower prices of magical items
. Tell me – if we lowered taxes, what essential service of Kiria would you get rid of in order to pay for the tax break? Perhaps you are tired of the roads? Or the sewers? Or fire protection? Or law enforcement?”
The girl looked at her feet, miserable. “Do not concern yourself with it,” Liane said, placing one hand on the girl's shoulder. “I asked a question and you gave an honest answer. It was all I required.” The Pillar looked around, and found the farmer. “If we intervened with the economy and forced the prices of your goods up, all these good people would be paying more for your produce. That would mean that most of them wouldn't have as much money available for other things. They would be quite upset if we did that.”
The other people realized the implications of that, and started muttering. “It is of no consequence, again, this is merely an experiment.” She looked at the man and the younger woman. “If we assisted financially when you do not learn a trade, why would people go through the effort of learning one? After all, they could live off the financial aid, why go through the trouble of learning a trade and working? If we lowered prices on magical items, then the Nobles who build them wouldn't be able to live off their creation. I know most of you do not realize that it takes weeks to enchant a regular vehicle, nor that it takes a regular enchanter four hours to charge a regular power token.”