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Cyliana
Wet leather slapped against steps as rain broke through the murky fog. Soft clicks of heels and metal-toed boots clapped upon the decorated stone tiles below: people bustling about in coats and shawls, scattering to flee the downpour. A voice of authority rang out in an attempt to pierce the veil of nature's footsteps and create order. The cry, however, rang hollow.
Slipping into the cover of a monolithic alabaster building like a wet fish into a fisherman's boat, a fur-coated man huddled and shivered. "Must it be Cy already?" he mumbled into his sleeves, the futile promise of warmth from his lips sending lifeless relief. "This kingdom is all rain . . . never once have I been here and it's been sunny." With a mighty shake of his jet black hair, sprinkles of water scattered across the area. A heavy sigh soon followed. "Having my presence summoned on a day like this . . ." His thought drifted but ultimately led to mere naive misery. Let's get this over with.
Turning on his heels and tugging on his leather-laced jacket, he faced the great iron doors that bore the way. Tall, shining metal that had been scrapped clean of any imperfection by the miry of peasant-folk, awaited his touch. Skimming the carvings with a finger, the man traced the delicate, chiselled symbols – ancient glyphs that only a practiced maegus could have understood. All that history . . . homogenized in the name of the greater good. He tore at his lip with an icy finger. Still . . . it must appear ironic for an institution that was created to contain maegi utilizing their art.
Then again, he surmised after a fleck of skin had been ripped off his lip, I very much doubt they know what it even means. The comment, though directed at the government of the state Cyliana, applied just as much to him. Born from two human parents, I, as much as any, should have a right to fear. His gaze fled the doors and turned back to the overbearing, desolate grey. But Slo'vain always plays dice with mortal flesh, doesn't he?
Eyes now shut and head held low, he pressed his palms against the door, pushing it open. What matters now is the meeting, not the whims of divine beings.
The interior held a more regal apparel than the stark exterior. Strong oak beams held up stone slabs while molded brick paved a delicate – almost intimate – path. Adorned on walls were cloth banners stained with sapphire dye, wavering under the incoming wind. Shutting the door behind him, the man spied two guards holding muskets in their hands before a second door down the length of the hall.
Noticing his arrival, one guard rotated his head towards him. Rolling his shoulders and snarling between his copper beard, the steel-armoured solider began to spew native Cyla. The rough, jagged sound – like metal being carved with a sharp flint blade – pierced the newcomer's ears. In Solen, the language is much more musical . . . It always takes me awhile to get accustomed to Cyliana's harsh communication. A small smile slipped through his calculated expression. That and the bloody rain.
Licking his lips and flexing his fingers, the man in fur traced the familiar runic divinations in his head. The symbol of the sound – harsh, flat, and spiked – coerced into a smooth, crystalline, and wave-like image. Through this creation a single thought anchored him in that very room. Think of the totem, he punctuated after another piece of the firm sound was crushed into shimmering dust.
A fierce flame burst inside him and the intense heat began to melt away the metallic heart of the sound. As the fire kindled, his body tingled with desire and his mind teetered on the brink of sin. Translating another language, he snarked through the unyielding desire, would be a poor way to die.
Relax, he asserted, narrowing his thoughts to only the ritual. Ease the mind into a state of comfort. Draw life from that which has given it to you; the oasis of the desert; the icicle dangling on a hot summer's day: think of her . . . With a fine, defined breath, the once dense sound flowed into a river and the image of a fair lady in silver faded to embers.
The room fell back into place. Banners still wavered in the wind, the carpets still welcoming, the walls a vicious captor, and the bearded guard now inches from his face. Either he covers ground fast or it took longer than I thought to adjust to the dialect. Turning his gaze to the other guard who still stood at the door, the man in fur noticed quivering feet and the stocky, tall man now pointing his weapon towards him.
The bearded guard squinted. "I said, has your presence been requested?" The newcomer cocked his head, staring back at the incredulous solider. "Have I made myself clear?"
The man in fur nodded. Now it's my turn to speak. He felt his words run across his lips, the sound turning more harsh and cold.
"You have," he said in perfect Cyla. Cracking his knuckles with his fingers, he followed his response. "The Imperial Council has inquired about a representative from the Maegus Institution arriving for the meeting today." He gestured towards himself. "I am such representative."
The stockier guard seemed to be frightened by this. His finger twitching on the trigger and his eyes darted between the intruder's hands. Moving weight from one foot to the other, he pursed his lips and peered towards the intruder.
"Can I see your documentation?" the closer, bearded guard commanded with authority.
Producing a five page stack of parchment from his coat, the man in fur passed it to the guard. "My title, the letter requesting my arrival, diplomatic immunity, and documents solidifying my intent."
Taking the letters into his hand, the guard began to scan through, his eyes tracing the lines. "You the maegus Von soi Rein?"
A smirk. "I am who you say I am."
The guard darted his eye from the page, staring at him with menace buried deep. "Spare me the Solen high and mighty speech," the guard growled back. "A simple 'yes' is all I need." Von nodded curtly.
After perusing the papers, the guard handed them back to the black haired maegus. "You seem to check out and we have been waiting for a maegus from the organization." Snorting, the man beckoned Von with a finger. "You follow me. I will take you to the chambers where the meeting is held."
Turning on his heels, the bearded guard stared at the other. "Lower the weapon, Ein. This maegus is here on business." Von swore the guard spat out the title in disgust. Straightening his jacket absentmindedly, he bit his lip. I should be used to people treating me like this . . .
Ein, still quivering, nodded his head at the bearded guard and lowered his musket. His eyes still trained on Von, waiting for him to make the first move.
Narrowing his eyes, Von fell into step behind his lumbering form. As they walked past the fearful Ein, Von could see his finger still twitching on the trigger even though the muzzle had touched the floor. To think they give them muskets at such a young age, Von thought as he left the troubled boy. When has forcing weapons of destruction into innocent hands ended well? Then he considered himself and tightened his fists.
I am not like these people, he stated to himself, the fire slowly being kindled again. I had no choice in what weapon I was handed.
After the second doors had opened, another length of hall awaited Von with elaborate decorations and tribal carvings scratched into the ebon brick. Each symbol held another meaning and though the opening doors held the mark of maegus design, inside bore the stencil of warlords long passed through. Von shuddered at the thought. An entire people's history defined by the conquest of savages . . . To think I pity them.
"Gregaor." Von cocked his head when the burly guard spoke.
"Pardon?"
"Gregaor. That's my name. Thought you'd like to know it, maegus."
Von inhaled sharply. "Well . . . thanks for the introduction."
This reaction seemed to only agitate. "I don't know if it's different in that lakeside shithole, but here we introduce ourselves proper, before business can be attended to." Von supressed a growl, knowing full well the guard wanted him to defy his outrageous remarks. He wants an excuse to put me down.
"You're lucky that boy, Ein, didn't blow your head off." Von squinted and tore his gaze from the man, focusing only forward. "The boy's sister die by one of your kind: a rogue maegus hetch who thought she could escape the hand that fed her—"
"A sc'vanni."
Gregaor stopped all at once, his eyes now razor sharp. "What."
A command, not a question. I see how they operate around here. "She would not be classified as a maegus. She's a sc'vanni – a reluctant soul—"
"And a hetch who needed to be put down." He now turned to face Von directly and even though he was a few feet shorter than the maegus, he looked as though he stared down to an animal. "I don't care for your fancy terms, maegus. Your kind is nothing but a blight. Taking humans as sacrifices for your runic divinations or some shit." He spat on the velvet carpet. "I'm glad the Jovothai got her. I bet she didn't even scream like a proper person."
Noticing the escalating tension in the room, the guard, Gregaor, chuckled. "Relax your grip, maegus. Wouldn't want those pretty little hands getting bloody, now would we? Would be a shame for you to fight and get blood on that fancy fur coat."
Turning on his heels again, Gregaor continued down the hall, his gait strong and sturdy. Von however, could barely drag his feet to press on. The once gorgeous architecture now bore down on his shoulders – the disjointed faces now staring at him with prejudice and pride. I knew Cyliana was known for its anti-maegus supporters . . . but I never thought it would snake so fully into every facet of its culture. The more he considered it, the more he found it trivial to dissect every glance the populace had given him when they saw him leave the train. The memory thick and palpable; he had noticed the heavy stares. Many mothers bringing their sons and daughters close to themselves at the sight of his thick coat and regal attire.
They don't even need to know I'm a maegus before they consider me some Solen prince. A deep anger burned within him and only the silver lady of his dreams could dowse it. Even so, with the amount of hatred he had experienced, he wasn't quite sure she could help him anymore. They are peasants . . . all of them. I hope they suffer one day, just as I have living in this purgatory of existence.
Mercifully, Gregaor did not speak with Von the rest of the way. The spiralling, snaking corridors twisted and turned into one massive maze. His eyes glazed over and his mind steeped in self-righteous introspection, Von cared little for anything but his feet slapping against the floor once more. He did not even get the satisfaction of the wet slap every time his shoes landed: the carpet's material was crafted thick to prevent such deliberate sound creation.
A few more halls later, black iron doors greeted him once more. He did not expect the same maegus-inspired carvings he saw outside, nor did his anticipation grow at the thought of dissecting its history. He barely glanced at it when they had arrived at the metallic barriers. His head held low, he noticed the two guards at its side, this time they did not hold any musket but standard ornate sabres. The Chancellor's Guard, Von thought with disgust. Just another show in this divine-forsaken country.
Clad in their standard steel breastplates, this collection of soldiers wore thick metal helmets shaped like a ship at half-mast. Their crystalline blue led to fine white trim that slithered along the collar and cuffs. The golden-handled sword shone in the refurbished electric light – a delicacy the kingdom had only newly experienced – and Von knew that those swords were not just for show. I've had a blade at my throat before . . . I know how sharp a blade can be.
"Von soi Rein," Gregaor stated after displaying the maegus with a lackadaisical wave. "He's here for the council meeting. I assume it has begun?"
One of the guards, with a pencil-thin burgundy moustache, turned his neck with such effortless grace that Von thought it would roll off if too much pressure had been exerted. "It has, though only informally. Chancellor Erich Zorn likes engaging in social activities – such as toasting – before business officially starts. Maegus Rein will be escorted in quietly, as to not disturb the setting."
Gregaor darted his eyes towards Von. "You alright with this, maegus? You will comply?"
Seeing no other alternative – except my body hanging in the street for capital treason – Von nodded his head. "Lead me in, I merely wish to find my seat and wait for the meeting to commence."
Darting his eyes back to the sword-wielding soldier, Gregaor grinned. "Make sure this one doesn't get too comfortable. We all know what happens when a maegus feels safe, right?" A harsh slap rung out through the halls from the bearded guard's hand colliding against the maegus' back. "And you know your place. Alright, 'Von'?"
A muted grunt emanated from the maegus' lips before the thick iron doors careened open by the arms of two guardsman. The one whom Gregaor had been discussing with nodded for Von to follow, his hand tight against the sabre with every step. Von never looked towards the bearded guard or gave him the satisfaction of a farewell. Childish, to be sure, but Von knew better than to indulge humans thirsty for blood. Especially ones who rather it be yours than theirs. He had met a few who enjoyed the opposite, but those had been maegus. I doubt many humans would understand that logic, I even wrestle with the enthusiasm myself.
The oval room decorated with flags and tapestries felt just as cold as the iron doors. Hearing the familiar metallic click, Von noticed the doors sliding shut behind him. Just find your seat, that's all you need to do. No need to get more involved than you already have.
Following the moustached guardsman around the room, Von spied the elegant flags of the seven imperial states. Nyro's caught his eye, the vibrant royal purple set behind the outstretched maw of their native black condor. Though the sight of the Solen flag made him proud, he acknowledged the beauty of Nyro's design. To be honest, I probably respect Nyro more than my home. Especially considering how they treat maegus there.
Of course, the largest and most prominent flag was Cyliana's, two triangular arrows pointing upwards. The three sections created by these black arrows were light blue, beige, and white as your eye traced the flag from top to bottom. Indeed, Von could swear the design of the room facilitated the flag's design, with the Cyliana leader's chair positioned directly underneath. And at the head of the room. Von smirked. Typical Cylians. To say that the Cylians considered themselves superior to the other seven states was an understatement. Their architecture and historical significance had been felt for generations and still held national acclaim. Just because the hero, Parrafax, was borne of Cylian blood, doesn't mean all of Cyliana should be considered the Empire's 'leader'.
Before long, Von had been escorted to his seat. The moustached guard bowed curtly, after displaying the chair. "I trust the placement is acceptable?"
Von scanned the area. To his right sat the diplomat from Idina, a state that held little weight in the proceedings due to their obvious technological disgraces. Indeed, beside them sat the diplomat from Kannandar, the state that brought Idina into the new world. Though a political alliance lay naked before the council, no one spoke ill against it. No one wants to be responsible for pissing off Kannandar. They are in an especially fragile state considering the fourth culled state has a trade embargo with them.
Shaking the thought out of his head, Von turned to his left and spied who would be the other sitting next to him. The recorder, he realized with distain. Fantastic. The Institution's voice will really be heard this meeting.
He sighed. I can't really say anything negative about this arrangement. If I did, I would be disrupting Chancellor Zorn's 'social expenditure'. Wouldn't want that bastard to have a heart attack or anything. Thus, in place of making a scene, Von simply stated, "It is acceptable." The guard, looking slightly pleased that Von did not cause a scene, bowed again – this time for a second longer – before reporting to Chancellor Zorn of the maegus' arrival. If I didn't have a natural hate for this country's people, I might have respected that guard. A second passed and Von chuckled internally. Who am I kidding?
Removing his coat before taking a seat, Von spied the diplomats present. Paying attention to each politician was important, for not only the state of affairs but also for translation purposes. His runic divinations turned in his head constantly as he shifted from one conversation to another. I don't have the luxury of memorizing all these languages. Instead I use the art to translate all of this. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sounds sink in and solidify in his consciousness. Think of her always, never forget her. Never let the taint consume you. She will protect you. At last he gained a sense for the languages and he muttered words to himself to see if he spoke as well as he heard.
Mostly finished with his runic divinations, Von began to deduce the politician's present. Of course Cyliana's chancellor arrived, however, he was not the only official leader to arrive. Instead of a diplomat, Nyro's leader – the Holy Patriarch himself – had arrived. A curious entrance and one that had Von thinking as he sat down in his leather chair.
The arrival of Nyro's leader, yet no other leader except Cyliana's is present. Von frowned. Chancellor Zorn's presence makes sense, it is Cy after all and his state is housing the delegations for these thirty days—Von shook his head. No, thirty-three days. It will take me awhile to get used to the three extra days added due to the Mortis Sanctity being shortened after the solidification of the train lines.
He leaned his head on his propped fist. Besides that, Chancellor Zorn should be the only leader here. Most use diplomats to voice their opinion in council . . . but if one leader besides the state's host decides to show, everyone usually arrives.
He shook his head. No, this makes no sense. If the Holy Patriarch is the only leader besides the chancellor here, then that means one of two things: Either he arrived in complete secrecy or Chancellor Zorn knew about this beforehand and decided not to tell. Von observed the other diplomats and found his answer quite quickly. They all look confused – concerned even. He smirked. That means the latter is far more likely given how calm Zorn looks. Then again, maybe he's so inebriated he doesn't know what's going on.
His musings ceased with the bellow of Chancellor Zorn's voice across the room. "Now that everyone has arrived, I think it's time to get to business." He gestured towards the table. "Shall we gentleman?" They all nodded and took their glasses of wine with them. White Riviera, if I'm not mistaken. And of Shashni origin too, not Cyliana. Von smiled. I think Zorn wants to make an impression, why else would he provide the best for his esteemed guests?
Soon the Idina political sat to his right and the recorder – of Cyliana origin – fell on his left. They were the last to sit after the group had found their seats and relaxed in their chairs. Von, naturally, scanned the faces around the table. Most seem nervous, even the Holy Patriarch himself seems agitated as he drinks his expensive wine. Only Chancellor Zorn and Von looked at ease and even then, Von started to feel the touches of anxiety grow inside him.
"If you would not mind looking at our schedule for the meeting gentleman before we begin? Just in case any object to how the proceedings run." Von looked down to the piece of paper before him. A type-written list in a black ink lay before him. Skimming the articles articulated, Von ran his tongue around in his mouth. Seems like a typical meeting. Open remarks by Zorn, a run-down of all affairs in each state, a general speech down by the maegus representative – oh . . . goodie – and finally an open forum at the end. I don't see why Zorn asked if this was –
"I object to the proceedings, Honourable Chancellor Zorn." Von's head snapped upward to the origin of the declaration. His mouth wide open, he could not hide his shock at seeing the Holy Patriarch standing up, his hands pressed upon the clothed table. "I would wish to assert that the open forum outlined in the schedule be placed first in this meeting."
Wurnunyn's diplomat stood up in retaliation, his state's national colour – red – the pigment in his button up shirt underneath his black suit. "What makes an open forum seem logical as an opening?" He furrowed his dark brown brow. "If any new information is presented in the proceedings, how are we to properly articulate our thoughts on them if there is no further time allotted?"
Zon nodded his head in agreement, as well as the shouts and cries from many of the diplomats. Kannandar's diplomat stayed silent, though the reason for this was more due to the Wurnunyn's diplomat establishing the claim and not the claim itself.
Chancellor Zorn now stood up, his towering bulk commanding the room. "I acknowledge Diplomat Nadowa's assertion and would kindly request His Holiness Mensah's reasoning for such an amendment." Zon squinted his eyes and peered at the chancellor. If I had not seen this man in meetings before, I wouldn't have thought much of his statement. But thinking back, when has he ever given another politician a chance to explain themselves? Unless he knows something . . .
The Holy Patriarch nodded his head. "I have information regarding a recently culled state that could spell dire consequences for humans." The room fell silent at his statement. No one dared speak or move, even Von had to force himself to breathe. What does he have? he thought, now concerned for his own safety. Did something come up? Has a sc'vanni gone under the Institution's radar? By the divine beings, has someone died by a maegus' hand?
The room continued in its anxious state before Patriarch Mensah spoke again. "May I report my state's findings?"
All eyes turned to the chancellor now and he nodded his head, cool and collected. "You may proceed."
Small chatter began in pockets around the table and the Idina diplomat turned to Von. "Seems staged, does it not? I have never seen Chancellor Zounder so calm."
Von stared at the chancellor and sighed. "You may have a point, Idinian . . . you may have a point."
The banter stopped once Patriarch Mensah cleared his throat. It seems everyone wants to know what exactly is going on. "I need not remind those present of the census that occurs yearly after the twenty-two day month of Dyvek. It is the Maegus Institution's duty and the responsibility of all states – those newly acquired and those of the original seven – to properly conduct this census, correct?" Many nods flowed around the table. "Indeed, the importance of the census cannot be understated. The control and mitigation of the maegus populace is vital for human and maegus to coexist peacefully. We all know what happens when one maegus believes in the slaughter of humanity." A restless silence fell across the room and Von felt increasingly nervous being around so many humans. We don't need a history lesson on the rogue maegus Val, okay 'Patriarch'? You don't want to start a riot, do you? "For more than two hundred years the census has been properly executed by the states under its ruling. However, after scanning the recent census numbers, the church has realized a simple fact: the stability of this census has been compromised."
Solen's diplomat now rose up. "What are you suggesting, Patriarch Mensah? That one of us lied on the census?"
Patriarch Menah shook his head. "I am not suggestion that one of the seven states would commit an imperial crime. No, if you had listened to me earlier, Diplomat soi Kayi, I stated that the matter I am bringing up concerns a recently culled state."
"So you are speaking of the fifth culled state, Bahamed?" questioned the Shasni diplomat.
Patriarch Mensah nodded. "I am. If you recall, a recent plague swept across the lower half of this continent. Many of the southern settlements and kingdoms fell under harsh disease and our culled states fared no better. Harsh regulation was put in place to protect the empire and harsh border control began on the Bahamed stretch. Indeed, this prevent any from entering a nearby state – like Idina for example –"
"And your point is?" asserted the Solen diplomat once more.
Patriarch Menah's face grew dark. "I am suggesting that Bahamed's census is unrealistically high considering the circumstances this year." Another silence lulled the assembly into thought. Menah is really good at that, isn't he? "In fact, I would not hesitate to state that Bahamed fabricated the census to hide something dire about their population." Von looked curiously at the Patriarch and the Nyro leader picked up on it. "If we remember the disease that spread last year, do we not remember the primary target? Our doctors that were sent to observe and find a cure for this blight noticed that the mortality rate was exceptionally high for human infected."
The Idinian diplomat's eyes grew wide with understanding. "You are suggesting that Bahamed faked the census to not alert the empire of a population high in maegus?"
Patriarch Menah gestured to the diplomat. "You are exactly right. I believe that there is a logical reason for why the human population is so high on Bahamed's census. It is simple to realize that what we are dealing with is an abundance of maegus."
"Why would they risk imperial punishment for such an obvious conclusion? The records are publically published. They should have known someone would have put the pieces together," Chancellor Zorn stated.
"Indeed, that's exactly what I am getting at, Chancellor," Patriarch Menah said. "There must be a conclusion we can draw from this development."
Von, thinking over the facts in his head, came to the very conclusion the Nyro leader was looking for. "Desperation." All eyes fell on the maegus. "They are desperate. They needed a solution to this problem and fast. Since the disease spread later in the year there was no way they could have hidden that many human related deaths and attempt to amend the deaths. So they tried the only option available: they fabricated their census knowing full well that it could end in disaster."
"But why the desperation then, maegus?" Von scowled at the ferocity of the Kannandar diplomat. "If there had been an increase of maegus, we would not have blamed the Bahamens for that."
"He is right," Patriarch Menah continued. "We would have simply immigrated more humans to the state so that a more balanced ratio could exist—"
"That's the problem then," interrupted Von with a grin. "They do not want more humans in their country, they want to keep things as it is."
Puzzled and concerned looks fell over the room, the most troubled of all had to be Patriarch Menah. The long, dark haired man chewed on his lower lip. "I am concerned about this. A state should respect the ratio of humans to maegus, understand why this balance must be maintained. Maegus are bringers of death – they cannot help what they were born to do: as a maegus creates so must it kill. Bahamed's leaders must have understood the risks that this would cause!" He turned from his thoughts back to the ground. "This is why this matter is of the utmost importance. I thank you all for your allowance of this matter to be discussed prior to the rest of the meeting."
"What's the solution then, full military intervention?" Kannandar's diplomat asserted with crossed arms. "It has been around sixty years since the Bahamed Culling. The people are tired of war, especially due to maegus." The comment was directed towards Von and the maegus glared back.
"I agree, we should not try to force a solution," said Solen's diplomat. "I propose a surveillance team to establish the root of this betrayal. It not only allows a less aggressive solution to be created, but is also a more discrete investigation. I doubt the people of Idina, who border this culled state, would want to know of the maegus below them." Idina's diplomat nodded in agreement.
Chancellor Zorn stood up and opened his arms. "Then it is settled. A representative from each of the seven original states and the Maegus Institute will arrive with armed guard to the state of Bahamed. There an investigation will follow into the possible fabrication of imperial documents." He looked to the crowd of politicians before him. "Does this sound like an acceptable way to deal with the maegus issue?"
A wave of verbal agreement passed around the table until it fell upon Von. The maegus looked around the table and felt the glares stab at him with their sharpened points. I understand why they fear us, why they speak of us as a blight upon their lands and people. However, they must understand that we maegus don't actively choose this life? It was the act of heroes and divine beings long ago that bore this curse upon us. We don't have a choice when we steal life from those around us! I never asked to hurt Rin the way I did!
The thought tore at him more than their glares. Rin . . . She chose this path. She wanted to be my totem, the vessel that I stole from to create miracles. I can't continue to whip myself for a mistake I made. She understood the risks, she loved me enough to take those risks on herself! Von closed his eyes, trying desperately to keep the flames of the taint away and the image of her pure in his mind. You don't need to think about the past anymore, Von, he reasoned with himself. Just translate the response they all want. Just give these human bastards what they desire.
And with the image of Rin – the lady in silver – embedded in his mind, Von translated the word to the specific language of all present. "Yes," he said sharply. "The Maegus Institution agrees with this course of action."
ns 18.68.41.175da2
