Awakenings

by C. D. Espeseth

  “The prayers will be appreciated, but I will need the Hafaza working on how to counter this gunpowder along with the Syklan Order,” High King Ronaston said.

  “There is another thing,” Executor Mason interjected, “possibly good news. Sir Liam reported to me earlier that none in this Kutsal army could siphon or sing.”

  Sir Liam nodded his confirmation to the gathered council.

  “Well at least we may still hold some advantage unless they have simply not revealed their own capabilities with these powers, is there anything more?” The High King took a deep sigh as he watched his old friend Liam shake his head no. “No? Thank you, old friend. I’m glad you are alive to give us such dire news. You have done the Nine Nations a great service.”

  High King Mihane stood and looked at the ruling council. “It is to war then. We cannot let Kenz fall. Marshal all your strength. We do not know the size of their reinforcements or how fast they can land more troops. All of the Nine Nations must prepare themselves. Send all active retainers and those now enlisted as professional soldiers on the march or to sail to meet at Narrows.”

  “What of the Xinnish, Your Highness? Do you mean to leave them defenceless against this foreign horde? If they hold Dawn do they control the Meskaiwa’s Bay? What sort of naval presence did these Kutsals have?” Seraphim Eldora was very concerned. She was one of the few Xinnish to have risen so quickly in the Singer Faith. The long, bloody and not so distant decades of the Border Wars between Kenz and Xin Ya had also driven a religious wedge between the two nations. Kenz was almost exclusively Singer, Xin Ya was polytheistic and had minor deities for just about everything under the sun. It was another reason on a large list of reasons as to why the two nations had been at each other’s throats for centuries before her father had put an end to their wars.

  “We did not encounter them on the seas. However, any vessel which tries to sail north along the Kenzian coast does not return. I would have to assume they have a sizeable and effective naval force to stop so much traffic and to have landed the numbers we have encountered,” Sir Liam said.

  “The Xinnish are far from defenceless, and they have the mountains. An army on foot can cross the Kenzian Plains far quicker than they can navigate the Demon’s Teeth. Xin Ya must hold at Qi Gong until our forces can arrive. The City of the Cloud Pass has stood for centuries against Kenzian forces, it will have to hold a bit longer.”

  “This will not play well within the city, Your Highness. The assassination of Princess Syun and the growing number of recent murders within the Xinnish sector of New Toeron have tempers flaring. The city is close to riot,” Seraphim Eldora cautioned.

  “The constabulary is doing everything it can, we need people reassured we can keep them safe, we must respond to this foreign invasion with the utmost haste.”

  “I shall do as you ask, my High King, there is a particular inn where the Xinnish congregate; a hub of the sector. I shall go there myself and speak with them.” Seraphim Eldora nodded.

  “I trust in your capabilities, Seraphim.” Our only hope to pry them out of Dawn is to surround them and take back all the territory they’ve already captured. Sweep in fast and brutal. But it has to be done while we may hold a numbers advantage. If we leave now, we can dig in before winter hits us.”

  High King Ronaston stood up, and the look in his eyes told everyone the council meeting was at an end. “I want messages sent out on the fastest birds, boats and horses within the hour. The Nine Nations is at war with the Kutsal Empire, we are to take back the holy city of Dawn and drive these dogs back into the sea. All armies are to be mobilised. I shall command them myself.”

  Echinni shared a glance with Yuna who was nodding her head in agreement.

  There was pounding on the tables from all.

  War. Greeted with grim faces and applause.

  It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel real.

  The raucousness finally subsided, and the respected leaders of the Nine Nations and its major institutions began to file from the council room.

  “Echinni, stay a moment.” Her father’s voice startled her out of her daze.

  That tone was never good.

  Her giant father stood waiting for the attendants to close the council room doors behind the departing dignitaries.

  Yuna’s eyes shifted her way for a brief moment as the doors swung smoothly closed, and Echinni felt a pang of dread in her stomach. They were definitely in trouble.

  “You have brought two young men into the Oratorio, what exactly are you using them for?” Her father’s face was a thunderhead ready to spit lightning.

  Echinni was shocked, “Well, it is certainly not for what you are insinuating.” His words had made her feel uncomfortable and dirty.

  “Not nice, is it? Yet there are rumours of you spending a lot of time secreting yourself away with these two young men. Care to explain?” Her father left no doubt that this was not a request.

  “And do you believe these rumours?” Echinni was truly hurt now, she would never have believed her father could think such things about her.

  “What I believe is irrelevant,” her father drove his point home with little mercy, but finally, his glare relented, “but no, I do not believe them. I have spoken to Yuna at length about these two and reemphasised to your protector the importance of maintaining your image. Yuna has assured me she will not allow any more closed doors with you in them, and in particular no alone time with this Kai Johnson.”

  “Yuna told you-?” Echinni looked to Yuna, who had her head bowed, the giant warrior looked truly miserable.

  “Do not blame Yuna,” her father said. “You are the one putting your adopted sister and guardian into these difficult situations. She has a duty of care and protection, perhaps this is a sign you need more distance between yourself and your guardians. Yet, I cherish what you have together. Not all secrets can be kept, Echinni.” Now it was her father who looked uncomfortable, and he struggled to continue, “Have you thought about what your attention is doing to this young man? To both of them? Have you considered what will happen when you are finished with them?”

  “When I’m finished with them? What do you mean by that?” Echinni was truly off balance now. “First anger at my even associating with Kai and Jachem, and now you have concerns for their wellbeing? What about my feelings, what about what will happen to me if I never get to experience anything of life but that within my highly regimented glass bubble? How is this fair?”

  “Fair?” Her father gave a sad laugh. “Fair was taken from our lives long ago.”

  Confused, Echinni allowed him to take her hand. The hard calluses of his massive hands were rough on her own. She felt his customary tremble as he put extreme effort into controlling his almost inhuman strength for fear of physically hurting her.

  “My beautiful, sweet, and passionate daughter. Your life will never be fair. No matter how far you want to run from it. You will always be you, and I have cursed you with always being my daughter. Even if you try to ignore that, others will not. Your station and status will always catch up with you. I am concerned for these young men because I doubt they truly know what you have brought them into. Are they prepared for the subtle backstabbing of the court, for all of the politickings which is so much part of our life?”

  “I–” Echinni wanted to argue back but caught herself. A child answers back without a thought. She took in a deep breath and made herself think. He was right of course, she hadn’t thought of any of it. What had she done?

  “Consequences.” Her father sighed. “Again, we come back to the same discussion. There are always consequences. Our influence is like that of a boulder thrown into a pond compared to the pebble-sized ripples of most. You need to understand this, Echinni.”

  Ronaston looked at her then, his eyes pleading for her to take his words seriously. The urgency she saw in him made her cautious.

  “I do understand, father. I don’t make these decisions purely on a whim.” She wondered how much o
f that she believed. It was part of what she told herself. Her justification, but her father was looking at her now, and she rambled on, “It’s the Will, you don’t know its influence. When you feel it … it is insistent.”

  “A valid point. I do not know or understand that part of your life. Not even in the slightest, which makes me happy. Yet, your position within the Singers is but one part of who you are. I need you to become the ruler you’ve been trained to be.”

  “Why? Why is it so urgent now? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Because you will rule the Nine Nations while I am at the front. Executor Mason and I have talked about this eventuality. He assures me you are a more than capable administrator, better than I ever was.” Her father stomped to the wall and thumped it as he thought.

  “What? Executor Mason is by far the better choice. He’s done it before when you’ve left to go handle something in person. Why not this time?” Echinni felt her world closing in around her, felt the trap she had always tried to avoid ensnaring her completely.

  “You are old enough now, and the other rulers need to see you as my successor, to know your strength, wisdom, and intelligence. Experience is what you need now, not more training and observing.” He fixed her with a look that made Echinni want to scream.

  This was not negotiable.

  Every part of her wanted to run away, to escape the trap which had been sprung on her. Nothing she might say would help her now, so she remained silent, visibly clenching her jaw and avoiding her father’s gaze.

  Ronaston Mihane, High King of the Nine Nations, sighed in frustration, “Look, I’m already late for my meeting with the senior prefect who is no doubt about to give me more bad news. Figure out your role in this. I leave for the front in two weeks. Come to terms with this, accept what you’ve always known was coming and find a way to make it work before that. You will do this, and you will be good at it. Stop trying to hide from it. “

  He let his words resonate within the hall before he turned and left. The large doors thumped closed behind him, leaving Echinni and Yuna alone in the great chasm of a room.

  It took a full minute before Echinni unclenched her jaw.

  “You can do this Echinni. Your father trusts you to do this. He knows you can, and so do I. Otherwise, he would have left it to Executor Mason,” Yuna said solemnly beside her.

  Echinni nodded, “I know. I know all of it, but I can’t help what I feel. And it feels like being trapped.”

  Yuna sighed beside her, “Yes, I understand, little one.”

  “You’ll have to stop calling me that if I am going to start ordering everyone around,” Echinni said, trying to be funny but her words had more bite to them than she wanted.

  “Two things,” Yuna said, and Echinni was shocked to see a hint of a smile. “One; you’ve always ordered people around so why you’d think this is something new I have no idea, and two; unless you start growing quite a bit, you’ll always be ‘little one’ to me.” Yuna raised a mocking tattoo-laden eyebrow, “Little one.”

  “Yuna!” Echinni was so shocked she smacked Yuna in the arm.

  Yuna looked about as hurt as if a fly had tried to tickle her. “You looked like you could use a bit of cheering up. Tough love is sometimes appropriate.”

  Echinni couldn’t help a small laugh, “You are far too good of a sister, Yuna Swiftriver.”

  “Not nearly as good as you deserve, Little One.” Yuna bobbed her head in a slight bow. “Now, given what you’re father’s just told us about the city, are we still thinking about trying this performance at Keef’s?”

  Yuna’s tone conveyed exactly just how bad of an idea she believed that to be.

  Yet the Will was there again, buzzing in the back of Echinni’s mind with a warm glow of assurance. “Yes, we are still going.”

  Yuna looked to the heavens, “I was afraid you’d say that. Kai and Jachem will be up at dawn with me, princess, I’m going to ram as much combat training into them as possible before we go. You can have them in the evenings for practice, but in the morning they are mine.”

  “Now who’s ordering people around?” Echinni asked with a wry smile. “I think I want to be there when you tell them.”

  “The extra-training may be painful for them, yes, but pain helps you remember,” Yuna said without much humour, “or, as I was once told …” Yuna’s voice changed then, to something sad and distant, “… it is a sign of weakness leaving your body.”

  Echinni grimaced inwardly, a lesson you apply to yourself far too often, Yuna. Echinni gave Yuna’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll be ok.” Echinni paused before giving voice to what she knew was another reason she needed to perform at Keef’s. “Yuna, in two weeks, my life will never be the same again. The role I never chose will grab hold of me and never let go. I need this chance to be me, this one time, to be free and be who I would choose to be. If I don’t give myself this one chance to be a young woman, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

  Yuna looked sad then, and Echinni marvelled once more at how her adopted sister understood her in a way that no one else could. “I know,” Yuna said as she took Echinni’s hands in hers. “I know. It’s why I haven’t told your father about this yet, despite the fact the High King might have both of us strung up for it.”

  “You’ll keep me safe,” Echinni said, “you always have.”

  Yuna squeezed her hands, and Echinni felt a tiny tremble in those massive hands, and so she hugged Yuna tight, trying to lend whatever strength her small frame could.

  “We’ll do this, and then I’ll be the princess I have to be,” Echinni said trying to reassure Yuna.

  “Ok,” Yuna said, giving her a weak smile, “let’s get to practice then. As you said earlier, those two have been left to their own devices for far too long, and right now, I could use some of your singing.”

  Echinni smiled, and they left hand in hand to pry a little joy from the world before its weight crushed them. She would be young for just a little while longer.

  19 - Evidence vs Patterns

  The Vinda:

  The Vinda Sisterhood cannot truly be classified as a myth, but many of the stories surrounding the mysterious healers, herbalists, charm-markers and fortune-tellers lend themselves to myth.

  Some say these self-proclaimed witches can read the minds of others, others that they can even change the thoughts of others. So far, however, all that I have been able to substantiate is that the Vinda witches are excellent healers and are central pillars of many urban communities in several different cultures. From Xin Ya to Asgur, Nothavre to Aluvik, the Vinda are present with their corner stalls that sell everything from solutions of birch bark, medicinal tobacco, teas for just about any malady and charms for warding off evil spirits or attracting the attention of another.

  The people who visit the Vinda regularly hold the Sisterhood in high esteem and speak of them with a tone of reverence.

  Mystical properties, however, seem to have a place within this text as they do appear to be more myth and legend rather than fact.

  - Chronicler Henrietta Martin in A Study of Salucian Mythology

  John Stonebridge

  The Red Tower, New Toeron

  “Do you have proof?” Ronaston Mihane leaned forward, eyes looking eager, angry and ready. This was something the giant warlord understood, a threat, one which hinted at war.

  John sighed to himself, damn it. It always came down to this, why in the hells did the High King give him that writ as senior prefect if he didn’t trust his judgement. In his guts, John knew, just knew these killings were politically motivated at some level. Hells, the whole situation was practically yelling at him that there was someone behind the scene pulling the strings of this whole damn show. Executor Mason, the High King’s right-hand man, was looking at John as if he had just shat on the rug in front of them, but there was a glimmer of recognition of the truth in the brutal eyes of their High King. Yet, it always came down to bloody proof.

  “Damn it
, Your Highness, haven’t you ever just known something?”

  “Yes, I could tell a man would draw his sword against me before they did. I would trust that, but this is not the battlefield, is it? And Senior Prefect,” the High King leaned down towards him from his throne, “yes, we do know each other from our time is Asgur, and what you did in Vestgard for me is why you carry a royal seal and have special privileges compared to the rest of the prefects, but remember where you are and who you are addressing.”

  John chastised himself. Damn it, he thought to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was disrespect his High King in front of these other dandies of the court.

  “Apologies, Your Highness. I meant no disrespect,” John said, hoping to show enough deference for all those in attendance. John could only imagine what Ronaston Mihane had to suffer every day to try and stay ahead of the pompous asses surrounding him.

  Satisfied, the High King bade him to continue.

  “This is like…I can’t quite explain it, Your Highness. I just know it, deep in my bones with all of my hunches put together. There is political motive beyond the simple want of blood and death. Someone is directing this monster to target the Xinnish. Recently, however, they have been doing a damn poor job of trying to hide it. These last murders have been too sloppy for this killer.”

  “Sloppy?” the High King questioned. “I thought you found a mind-washed scapegoat in the Narrows. How is that sloppy?”

  John shook his head, how to explain what he just knew to be obvious. “Take the murder of the Xinnish princess, Your Highness. This killer meticulously planned and staged his kill zone. He lured Princess Syun into a trap with a very convincing backstory and even had all of the paperwork to back up his alias at the ball where he contacted her. He surgically cut down two highly decorated veterans single-handedly, then proceeded to hunt and kill the princess before walking away to disappear onto a ferry like a ghost. We’ve interviewed almost everyone who came over on that boat, and we have only one lead who remembers seeing a man who might fit the same description of this Lord Michael de la Quan. So why leave the body of the princess so out in the open for us to find? A man that well prepared could have found a dozen ways to hide the body.”