Record of Ashes War

Chapter 22 - Insurrection

Lines of people streamed out the Trillian temple's grand gates, most of them buzzing with conversation. Their voices drifted away and was eventually drowned by an echoing silence when everyone had passed. Azurus watched as Odain gathered together sheets containing words from the sermon he had just delivered to a group of Heirans. A normal speech preaching morals and unity. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just as it had been for months.

Azurus leaned against a towering support pillar, waiting for Odain to finish gathering his belongings. He wanted to get back to researching Chronary. Over the months, he and Odain had theorized much in regards to how this strange magic worked, but most of their theories fell flat. The one thing Azurus did know how to create was a Gatestone. But while he had created a few for himself, he hadn't used any. He wanted to go visit Emeria, but hadn't a clue where she was. It would be strange if he were to appear in either Arcaeus Peak or Exaltyron and started asking questions when he'd yet to even complete the task he was given.

He still wasn't certain about making mention of Chronary to anyone. Not until he could figure out how far the magic could be taken. Or if it was even safe to make mention of it. Thus far, neither he nor Odain could wield it to dangerous levels. They only knew how to make Gatestones which hardly lasted a handful of seconds.

"Young Richter," Odain said, stopping before the massive pillar. "I'm afraid I cannot spend further time in research today. I have some prior engagements to attend."

Azurus nodded, not feeling very disappointed. They'd already spent part of the morning researching anyhow. Odain occasionally had engagements involving mealtimes with the wealthy of Heira. "Then I suppose I'll return to the Draumen estate early today," Azurus said. "I'll continue to study what we've already gone through should I have free time from any duties."

Odain nodded. "Keep in mind that mere studying is not what makes a scholar. A scholar's nature is to be curious. To ask questions and seek answers. Use what you know to try and further your understanding of Chronary. And then advance that by asking new questions and trying new theories. I have hope that this magic will one day change the world for the better," he finished, walking away.

Azurus turned to leave, walking down the middle aisle of the grand prayer hall. There was something intoxicating about learning and trying new things. Even more so for things that no one else was aware of. There were so many ways in which he imagined Chronary to be used. He never had a penchant for sitting behind a desk, but this was different. Azurus was eager to learn more. He steadied the straps to a leather satchel that hung around one shoulder, grey shirt seeming brighter than it actually was due to the surrounding luminite pews. Quick tapping footsteps closed in on him from behind. He glanced back to see Ophelia skipping down the aisle, white skirt dancing with each step. Her face was matted with sweat. She'd likely just come from the infirmary. She was exhausted, but not nearly as drained as he'd first seen her a few months prior.

"You've gotten awfully close to his holiness," Ophelia said, walking beside him.

"Jealous?" Azurus teased, somewhat grateful for her presence. He hadn't much opportunity to have idle conversations since the beginning of his mission.

"Nope," she answered, crossing her arms. "His holiness is kind, but rather boring. He somehow turns everything into a lecture on confusing philphosophies."

"Philosophy," Azurus corrected.

"What about you? Have you tried praying to Trillia yet?" she asked.

"I have," Azurus lied. He'd taken part in congregations but hadn't bothered praying. What good was it to pray to an inanimate idol in the first place?

"And?"

"And what?"

"Have your prayers come true?"

"Have yours?" he countered.

"I… I don't actually believe in Trillia," she muttered. Azurus stayed silent. "You won't scold me or anything?" she then quietly asked.

He frowned. He thought Ophelia to be chipper. She seemed rather depressed right now. "Why would I? You can believe what you want."

"My step-ma sold me to the Trillians," she blurted.

Azurus glanced down at her, eyes narrowed. She seemed in need of someone to lend an ear. And that someone is me? Was she trusting him because he'd helped her once a few months ago? Perhaps Odain trusted him for the same reason. He did share the existence of Chronary with me the day we met…

It was an odd thing, trust. Growing up in the Impoverished District, Azurus had made habit of not trusting others, yet the way others now relied on him after a simple show of virtue. These people wouldn't last two days in the Impoverished District. So it fell on him to honor the trust people placed in him.

Yet the task assigned him by the queen loomed over his thoughts like a stormcloud ready to burst.

Ophelia looked up at him, biting the corner of her lower lip. Her gaze snapped back down when she met his eyes. Azurus suddenly felt annoyed with himself. She was looking away, rubbing one arm nervously. She wasn't chipper at all. She was Heiran. Just another victim of the somber atmosphere of the city. "Sold?" he questioned.

"Not everyone was fond of my Gift," she explained. "We accidently discovered it when I'd scraped my knee after a fall. My step-ma kept it hidden, fearing what others might say. I always wanted to be scribe. You know, read texts and learn more about the world. Maybe even travel. But one day, the Trillians started asking for Healers. I thought nothing of it. That was, until they started offering families of Healers large sums of gold. I was sold. And now, I'm duty bound to arrive at the temple every morning and Heal the wounded. I… I tried hiding once. Step-ma beat me for it, and the Trillians were mean too."

Azurus closed his fists. Ophelia never smiled when she was in the temple. She wore smiles. Because it was part of her task. While she wasn't abused currently, she was still being used by the Trillians. She was performing miracles under their Goddess' name. And all this time he'd thought of her as a cheerful girl. Am I a bad judge of character? "What of other Healers? I've heard they were sent some place. Are they not returning?"

"I don't know where they went or when they'll return. My job wasn't so bad when they were here. Now… By the time I go home, I'm too drained to try reading books. And there's all the chores step-ma makes me do as well."

"You can't Heal your own fatigue?" Azurus asked.

She frowned up at him as if the answer were obvious. "I can, but I just tire myself in the process. Thus, I actually never can."

He scratched his head. It did make sense. Healers were only supposed to be capable of Healing wounds and exhaustion. They couldn't cure diseases. But what about poisons? "Ophelia, can you cure a poisoned individual?"

"No," she answered. "I can't even Heal burn scars if the scar is too old."

Azurus grunted. Healers would be no use to the Duke then. They stepped out of the temple and onto the dreary streets of Heira. Even with a clear sky, everyone seemed to walk around with slumped shoulders and heads lowered no sooner had they gone a hundred paces away from the temple. Ophelia didn't say much more, likely afraid of her words entering the wrong ears and getting her into trouble with the Heirans. Azurus turned down a different street while Ophelia kept walking straight, lip curled down. He paused, turning back to her. "Should I walk you home?" he asked.

Her expression lit up, marks of color appearing on her cheeks. "I'd like that," she mumbled.

He nodded, following her, wondering if it was really worth extending a temporary hand to a hurting person. His presence would provide the girl with a temporary comfort, but she was likely returning to what was an abusive household. Can't save everyone, Azurus. You can only do all that you can.

***

Azurus hummed a melancholic tune he'd heard long ago, hand upon the leather satchel hanging from one shoulder. Eleanoire trotted onto the Draumen Estate grounds. Evening shadows danced as a gentle breeze brushed past yellowing leaves. A shabby pony nibbled at grass shoots around the manor. Azurus sighed as he dismounted, leaving his black mare to roam the grounds freely. Time had blazed past just as the sunset in a dimming sky. It had already been several months since he'd last seen Emeria.

And he wasn't any closer to completing his mission.

Each morning was spent wishing Emeria were there with him. The day was spent engrossed in research, in trying to achieve some sort of a breakthrough in Chronary that might help Xenaria for the better. The evening was spent wondering when he would see Emeria again.

All this time, Odain had shown no signs of foul play.

Any time Azurus spent with the Vicegerent was done studying Chronary. Any conversation he tried sparking ended in long winded lectures about moral philosophy. Odain had scars enough to be a battle hardened warrior. Had the muscles for it as well and carried around a rather beautiful sword. Yet, he acted the part of an ages old historian and scholar. He was also rather secretive about Chronary. He claimed that the closest of his aides only knew vague details and didn't study like he did, instead being engrossed in religious texts or some such. It made sense to not share such dangerous knowledge.

It was what gave Azurus confidence that Odain wouldn't try using Gatestones to mass transport an army. If Gates only lasted a few dozen seconds, then too many soldiers would need to be in possession of the stones, leading to too many questions and an annulment in any secrecy.

Azurus peaked inside his satchel as he entered the estate, still humming. Odain had written a few pages of certain theories, giving them Azurus for study. He'd come to learn quite a lot about Chronary. It wasn't magic. Not entirely. It was an exchange. To cause an action, a price needed to be paid. And that price was life force. It was in theory possible to cause a withering plant to stand strong if it drained the life of surrounding plants. The problem lay in convincing the surrounding plants to give up their life for another plant. Plants had no conscience and sentient will with which to make such a decision.

But people were another story.

A healthy person could be convinced to give up some of their life to Heal an ailing one. A child's broken bone could be mended if they gave up a fraction of their future life. The Gift of Healing was rare. But through Chronary, a revolution could be brought out within the sphere of practicing physics. And then there were possible military applications. Was there a world where a person absorbed enough life force to be considered immortal? Was it possible to create an army of such people? Immortality was a thought Azurus dwelt on often. An army that couldn't lose. That couldn't be defeated. Restoration of Exaltyron's Impoverished District, an end to Tarmia's aggressions, a unified Illusterra and a true everlasting peace. All of this could be achieved through Chronary.

Distant dreams. Azurus smirked at his own childish aspirations. Thoughts of grandeur when he couldn't even figure out simple things like strengthening crops. Or fixing a dreary city full of depressed individuals. Or seeing the lie within an ailing girl's smile.

"One would question your purpose in going to Heira when you return here looking so amused," Roxanne said, arms folded. She'd been waiting by the door. Her hair was tied into a long braid just as Lady Sar'tara tended to wear. "Azurus, I hope you haven't forgotten your mission. Or fallen for a girl in Heira."

"Not at all," Azurus responded calmly. He couldn't imagine betraying Emeria's trust. He wanted nothing more than to get back to her, but he'd gleaned absolutely nothing from Odain or any other Trillian.

Roxanne didn't seem to believe him. "What's the bag for?" she asked, gesturing to the leather satchel.

"Ah, Odain has me studying history and philosophy," he quickly said. "And the Trillian faith. He's been trying to convince me to take a place amongst his high ranking priests."

Roxanne unfolded her arms. She held a sheet of paper in her hands. "You've been studying under him and have learned nothing regarding his possible plans?" He shook his head in response. Roxanne seemed more irritated than disappointed. She held out the paper in her hand. "This came in earlier this morning," she said. "Tell me what you make of it."

"Is it from the capital?" he asked. Roxanne shook her head. Azurus frowned. If it wasn't a missive from the queen, then why was he being given a letter addressed to the Draumen estate? He unfolded the paper and read through its contents.

To the Lady of House Draumen

The winds are changing. A new season is on the horizon. One that may be cold. Or one that may be hot. Regardless of what it is, this season will be preceded by a brilliant and terrible one. A season the color of flames. This letter's intent is to invite you upon the ship riding these winds. To see to it that you stand on the opposite side of the flames and not within them.

We are the Neo Xenarian Federation. We humbly extend our greetings to you. Long has this nation favoured the High Houses and made light of lesser nobility such as us. It is time for us to turn our fate around and break the chains by which the crown holds us. Do not be alarmed. This is no foolish rebellion. The Federation grows in numbers by the day. We will expect your response via the message bird sent to you. Do choose your position wisely.

Regards,

Neo Xenarian Federation

Azurus furrowed his brows, reading the letter twice over. "An insurrection? They're making it sound threatening."

"Probably made to seem that way," Roxanne said. "I don't imagine they're very big an organization. I can see the appeal in recruiting me. They'd get a direct contact into her majesty's Royal Guard, given my brother is the second in command."

"Imagine…" Azurus mused. Something came back to him. Something the palace chamberlain often said. Imagination is a weapon. "They're also confident enough to contact you, knowing that your brother is second in command. They'd have to have made the assumption that you're loyal to the crown. Lady Roxanne, would you prefer I stayed within the manor for a time as a guard?" he offered. He'd come to enjoy his time in this home. Roxanne and Redmond made him feel welcome.

She snorted. "That won't be necessary. I have nothing of value worth stealing. Besides, your mission is far larger than some sod attempt at an insurrection. I merely meant to ask you what you made of the letter."

"I think you should practice caution, my lady."

"Sir Aegis, that's not what I'm asking."

He frowned. Then what… "You mean the Trillians? No. I don't think so. This doesn't seem like something the Vicegerent would do." Would Odain even start a conflict when he was such a pacifist and advocate for unity?

"Then that's that," Roxanne finished, waving a hand. She turned away towards the dining room. "Focus on your mission then. The Trillians pose a far greater threat to this nation. If some rebellious force does exist near to here, I doubt Heira's garrison will ignore it. Still, I'll inform her majesty with a missive of my own."

Azurus looked down at the letter again. Definitely not Odain. But concerning nonetheless. Perhaps he should stay put and guard Roxanne and her family. It would be the correct choice as a knight. And it would help sell his image as a butler. But did he need to sell that image any longer? Odain never once questioned it.

He still had a duty to fulfill. There's only so much I can do on my own. Only so many people that I can try helping. Roxanne was right. His task was more important. It concerned all of Xenaria. That and he still needed to study Chronary, and wanted to see Emeria again.

***

A few days following

A missive from Roxanne Draumen and yet another report of this Neo Xenarian Federation. Multiple reports had come in from differing locations. This problem was bigger than it seemed, or it was widespread enough to seem large. And they'd begun a mere cycle following Eildred's departutre.

Dahlia sighed as she curled up in her bed, chewing on her thumbnail. The dark of her room was overwhelming all on her own. Every night felt overwhelming. And subsequent mornings hardly felt any better now that Eildred was gone. She really was missing him.

Things were ocurring so conveniently against her wishes. She felt powerless to stop any of it. Adrian had kept his promise, backing an offensive against the Empire in the last meeting of figureheads in her court. His decision had swayed some hesitant others. But the decision to proceed any further was put on halt because of the incoming reports regarding insurrections.

Dahlia was queen. The Guiding Hand and Shield of Xenaria. The one with whom all decisive power lay. And yet, she was afraid of making any decision at all. Afraid that one misstep would cause everything to crumble. There were so many blades poised at her throat, each one inching closer and closer. One wrong move and she'd be run through. But stay as she were, and the blades inevitably would reach her.

She stood up and walked to a mirror hanging above a dresser, if but only to stare at her own miserable and disheveled appearance. The only features she could clearly make out in the dark was the gold of her messy hair and the glint within her wet eyes. She rubbed her arms, her thin white nightgown doing little to protect from the creeping cold of harvest season.

I just want a hug. Is that too much to ask, oh Creator above?

Dahlia turned to face her bed. But she didn’t approach it. She stayed seated on the stool before the dresser. She feared the cold of her sheets. She needed someone else within them. And that someone couldn’t be Adrian. She no longer felt safe near him. Felt sick to know that she'd even allowed him in her chambers.

She looked back at the mirror, her eyes following the reflection of a lonely tear rolling down one cheek. Why had she sent Eildred away? What was she thinking? How had she been so stupid to come to such a decision?

Because you wanted to prove yourself… Dahlia blinked, hands curling into fists. That's right. Eildred was probably losing faith in her. She needed to prove to him that she was still the queen. Still worthy of her position. Of his admiration. Would he think of her the same way as she did of him if she showed him enough strength? He has to, right?

She needed to be decisive. Needed everything in order for when Eildred returned. To not only restore the realm, but restore her captain's confidence and perhaps have a chance at mending the wound in her heart that had been left by Madrivall's untimely demise. Her gaze moved to the white wardrobe hiding Wind's Eye, Madrivall's sword and House Lakris' only magical Artifact. I should have given it to Eildred, she thought.

Dahlia released a sigh of regret. First matter of import was this insurrection. Reports of them stated groups numbering in the hundreds razing villages or killing local lords that refused to obey. The largest of the factions was reported to be east of Heira. Likely the same faction that'd threatened Lady Draumen. These groups needed to be dealt with while they were still separated from their own allies. Dahlia couldn't allow them to consolidate their forces and create an army capable of posing a risk.

She chewed on her thumbnail again. Queen's Guard number eight hundred. Two dozen are with Emma at Arcaeus. If I cut palace security and send five hundred out… Five hundred to Heira to be led by Azurus. Five hundred of the realm's finest trained and armored warriors. She couldn't send soldiers from the capital. Eildred had already taken half their number, and thinning them further while a rebellious force existed was likely not wise. Better to endanger her own security rather than that of her citizens. After all, what was a monarch if not just a servant and guard for her people?

Five hundred Lotus Knights would be more than enough to triumph over militia of similar or even twice their number. And once the subjugation is complete, I'll send a missive to have Azurus arrest Odain. Pin the rebellion on him, and have the boy return a hero.

If Trillian converts saw her as a despot following the fact, then so be it. If Odain was innocent, then no matter. A harsh decision was better than no decision. Dahlia steeled her resolve. The sacrifice of her moral conscience was a petty price when compared to the peace of the realm. This assuming Odain was innocent. Which, if he was the same Lord Sun of the Thousand Sun City, then he would still have a genocide to answer for irregardless of his ties to this rebellion.

Any aftermath could be dealt with after quelling the immediate threat. If need be, the throne could always be abdicated to Emeria. A queen had no business being selfish. Not when her kingdom was at stake. "This is for you, Emma. I hope you fare better than me when your time comes. So long as I am breathing, this nation will stand tall. I won't let you inherit a broken kingdom."

***

An unforeseen fortune. Eildred Aegis had been separated from the queen. The most troublesome of individuals was now out of the way. Odain stared at his own closed fist, admiring the lines of his flexed forearms. Admiring the many scars upon them. It was time to set aside the scholar within him and once again embrace his warmongering half.

Odain spilled a group of Gatestones onto a map of Xenaria resting on the broken wood of his desk within the temple. He placed each and every one of them in locations where his planned insurrections were sprouting, using them as markers and carefully formulating a plan with which Xenaria could be brought to its knees. The Gatestones couldn't transport armies without exposing the existence of Chronary to plebeians. But they could transport him. Now that he had fragmented battalions of brainwashed villagers and local lords spread throughout the land, he could micro manage each and every one of them to do exactly as he needed.

The first order of business was making sure the captain of the Queen's Guard never returned. He'd taken about half of Exaltyron's numbers to the port city of Qalydon. With any luck, he would fall to a group of pirates. Though, better to assume that he wouldn't. But he was bound to take some losses. Odain pushed a group of Gatestones before the Oakwood Forest. Ambush the Thundersword upon his return to the capital.

He smiled, sitting down and slumping back in a chair. A wonderful plan. And now, without her seasoned advisor, Queen Dahlia had reduced palace security to remove the threat of a growing rebellion. Reduced her own level of safety. Bold. But a decision clearly driven by emotion and haste. "Poor girl," Odain mused. She didn't know that her own Guard was compromised. That family members of her Guard had converted to the Trillian faith or had exploitable debts. "You poor, poor girl. Send out your personal knights and the palace will belong to me." Odain sighed. How he missed the days of old. Of having worthy opponents from amongst High House Zz'tai who could match his timeless experience and intellect.

And last but not least, young Richter. Nay. Azurus. You, dear boy, are going to play the part of the beloved tragic hero.