LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 63 : Divination
Chapter LXIII : Divination
Midday of Terminus, Fourteenth Day of Autumnmoon
As part of Géorg’s pledge to negotiate aid from the Saladina Clan Lords, he enlisted the help of Lady Azul, Kitezh’s most venerable sorceress. She was refined and well-dressed, with all the hallmarks of a noble upbringing, and a poise and demeanor that reminded Géorg of what Rosa Reynolds might embody with decades more experience. The difference was that Rosa studied to be a healer, while Lady Azul specialized in the mind.
Before Géorg met the sorceress in person, Konrad provided him with some knowledge about her background. He learned that as a child with no training, she could listen to the thoughts of others. By age thirteen, she learned to manipulate those thoughts as well. Sadly for her, mind reading and compulsion came dangerously close to violations of the Scholar’s Creed. This mattered little to a child raised by laymen, but as soon as her powers became public knowledge, she was shunned by her town and disowned by her family. With no other recourse, she fled and joined a sorcerer’s circle in the eastern city of Wyrmburg. There, she learned to abide by societies’ laws and use her abilities as an asset—and a well sought-after one, at that.
This included selling out her skills to jealous noblewomen, who would break open their fat purses in the hope of learning the whereabouts of their husbands after dark. Or, to haughty politicians who wanted their speeches to leave a distinct impression. One of these latter cases was a member of the Royal Ministry of Rungholt, who had traveled to Wyrmburg for business.
He realized her skills were worth more than cheap tricks, so he offered her a job as a personal assistant. Using her new connections, she claimed the title of Royal Apprentice in just a few years. It was a career position that provided her with access to the very best knowledge and resources in Kitezh. She vaulted far beyond her peers and eventually ascended to the preeminent role of Kitezh’s Lady of Sorcery.
Despite Lady Azul’s prowess, Géorg found her easily approachable. She was friendly, courteous, and delighted to help, provided he performed the grunt work. Lifting and carrying supplies wasn’t easy with one arm, but he managed. He prepared the spell circles and gathered the necessary ingredients from the storerooms, while she performed the incantations. She complimented his competence in identifying the right components, which he attributed to his years in herbal medicine. Using maps from the Navigations Ministry and his knowledge of the Clan Lord’s hidden locations, he pinpointed exactly where to focus the spell.
He found the whole experience of long distance communications to be thrilling. Not even Ilse exposed him to the intricacies of magic. She had of course trained in rudimentary sorcery, but most of her work used traditional, laymen methods. It came as a surprise to Géorg when Lady Azul informed him that his body produced small amounts of blue manna, almost too little for most scholars to detect. It had likely diminished over the years due to lack of use, but she believed that certain meditation techniques could train his body to supply more. He had long been fascinated by sorcery and wondered if Lady Azul would ever be willing to provide him with tutelage.
Either way, the news was uplifting, especially after his first three attempts to negotiate with Clan Lords ended in failure. He had started the conversations easily enough, but after only a few minutes, they informed him that they wanted nothing more to do with the Kitezhian government. They then closed their end of the communications channel abruptly.
Géorg feared this might happen. After all, many of the Clan Lords were labeled as dangerous criminals by Ulrich Brandt, the late king’s predecessor and Józef’s grandfather. Even decades later, they still held grudges. When Henrich took the throne, he abolished the criminalization of political activism. But even so, the kingdom’s tax code and regulations for outer territories still crippled the Clan Lord’s ability to amass wealth. Only after Ankor liberated the area and Saladin became an independent desert state were their businesses able to prosper.
Feeling desperate, Géorg chose his last contact on the basis that his history didn’t involve Kitezhian persecution. He was known as Samir, though that wasn’t his real name. The Clan Lords protected their identities by adopting what they called desert names. It wasn’t as necessary in the modern day, but many still clung to old habits out of tradition.
Everyone in Saladin had their own story. Some ended up there after being exiled from their homelands. Others fled criminal prosecution. And still others sought to avoid the war draft. In Samir’s case, he fled to escape creditors, after his small Kitezhian import business fell on hard times. He owed money to the wrong people, and fearing for his life—and those of his wife and infant son—he moved to Saladin to start anew. Even so, his dispute had never been with the Kitezhian government. Unlike the other Clan Lords, Géorg believed he might even be sympathetic to Kitezh’s new plight.
Nevertheless, he was hesitant to call on him. When they first met, Samir was still a new name, struggling to make a reputation among the other Saladina elite. He hadn’t amassed the kind of fortune that would have made him a valuable ally against Angkor. But, things change. To Géorg’s delight, Samir’s position had grown considerably in the last few years. He now owned swathes of land and had accumulated vast wealth. Best of all, he had warehouses of parts collected in the wake of The War, potentially including the right equipment to build more airships. He promised to speak with Géorg in the upcoming days, once he had a chance to review his inventory.
The conversation couldn’t have gone better. The one-armed man shared his excitement with Lady Azul while wearing a warm smile.
“Well done, Mister Töller,” she congratulated.
He bowed, feeling the buzz of success. “Thank you, m’Lady.”
Ever since leaving his old life behind, Géorg wanted to feel useful. And this very important job bestowed upon him by King Unruh felt extremely satisfying.
Lady Azul adjusted her spectacles. “It’s time we concluded for today, unless there’s someone else you’d like to contact?”
Géorg shook his head. “No, Madam. Will reconnect with Samir in few days.”
Her voice carried an almost music-like melody. “Very well, but please: do be sure to let me know a little bit in advance.”
Géorg rose from his seat inside the magical circle. “Yes, of course.”
Lady Azul added one more thing as she gathered her belongings. “Ah, before I forget. Lady Rouge requested that you visit her apartments sometime later today.”
Géorg dusted some chalk off his pants and nodded. “Will be sure to do that.”
“Good.” Lady Azul looked eager to leave. “I bid you adieu, Mister Töller. Other matters require my attention. Farewell.”
Géorg bowed respectfully before following Lady Azul out of her small scrying room on the inn’s second floor. As soon as he left, he stepped into a hallway packed with people. The king’s offices had vastly outgrown the inn’s accommodations, packing the floor with shoulder to shoulder administrators. Shortly after Lady Azul disappeared into the crowd, he heard a voice call his name from behind. He turned and sighted a very eager Konrad, trying his best to weave through the herd of people.
He waved his arms fervently. “Géorg! Wait up.”
He arrived, looking out of breath. Before saying a word, he grasped the one-armed man by the shoulder and led him to a less busy spot by the window. Géorg waited for his friend to catch his breath.
“Whew! I’m glad I ran into you. Unruh asked me to follow up on your progress with the Clan Lords. I pray you have good news?”
Géorg teased with a smirk. “Might have some.”
He relished the look of enthusiasm on Konrad’s face.
“Let’s go somewhere private. Come, I know a place.”
Konrad led him through the crowd to the lower floor, to a quiet nook past the kitchens.
He rolled his palms impatiently. “So …? Tell me. How’d it go?”
Géorg’s smile widened. “First three contacts … hm. Not so good. But fourth? Wants to do business. Said very likely spare parts in storerooms, and, ah … maybe enough for two or three ships. Will of course need maintenance and repairs, but overall, ehm … very optimistic.”
Konrad’s eyes lit up. “Blessed Gaia, you did it!” He gave the one-armed man a well-intentioned pat on the shoulder.
Géorg wondered if his friend had similar success. “And you? Succeeded in stabilizing the, uh … city, uhh … government functions?”
The Primary Minister looked eager to tell. “Well … first, we confirmed that Angkor has left our airspace completely. And, just in case they return, we’ve readied the anti-airship cannons.”
Géorg agreed, it was a good move. Many in the city still feared the idea of an Angkorian Bogeyman, who would one day return to enact vengeance. Part of restoring the city’s morale was to deal with that threat proactively. Hopefully, with the proper defenses, Rungholt’s citizens would feel safer. At least for the time being.
He sensed his friend had more to say. “Anything else?”
Indeed, the Primary Minister looked as if he was just getting started. “The last few days have been a flurry. As you know, the city sustained heavy damage to the north, but the other districts are not as bad as we thought. Our sorcerers have built temporary medical facilities to treat the remaining injured, but we’re nearly back to full strength. Meanwhile, the supply warehouses are mostly undamaged and there are months’ worth of food still in storage. The Minister of Transportation reopened the ports this morn, and the Minister of Infrastructure claims our water and sewage framework is functioning within specified limits. Lastly, the Minister of Safety redeployed local police. Civil unrest has been unusually low for this kind of crisis, but having law and order officially back in place will provide our citizens with a sense of relief. In fact, the worst so far was a brawl between two construction guilds over who would get the contract to rebuild the castle.”
Konrad snickered at this last part, apparently finding humor. “We accomplished so much in just a few days. And now … I’m exhausted!”
Géorg chuckled, relieved at all the good news. Konrad’s update might have been long-winded, but he admired his friend’s enthusiasm. It was almost contagious.
“Could use rest, myself. Will need to give scholars more credit. Spells, rituals … is way harder than first imagined. Takes hours to prepare, and break concentration even once … must restart from beginning. Yet, all worth it. We did our duty today, Konrad. Be proud.”
He caught something in his friend’s eyes. It might have been respect, or possibly admiration. But the Primary Minister hid it behind a chuckle. “Alright, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Our city is stable, but just barely. There’s still much to do before our brief moments of respite turn into prolonged safety. But … I agree we should feel proud of our accomplishments. I am sure Unruh will be pleased, as well.”
Géorg couldn’t help but notice Konrad’s continued reference to the king, without inclusion of his honorific title. It must have been difficult for him to support the change in administration. Or, perhaps, he only wished to use that title when referring to young Master Brandt. Either way, he hoped Konrad would be more careful, especially in the company of others.
“Oh, nearly forgot. Must find Lady Rouge. Lady Azul says I must speak with her today.”
Konrad’s face became deadly serious. “That’s quite unusual. Lady Rouge doesn’t often meet with other people. Although powerful, she’s a well-known recluse. If she requested to see you, it must be important.”
Géorg felt his skin prickle. “Am not familiar. Assumed she is scholar, like Lady Azul, yes?”
Konrad nodded. “Indeed. Although, specifically, Lady Rouge is a Diviner. It’s a particular discipline of wizardry with the ability to see things that no one else can. Including the future.”
Géorg wondered if she had foreseen something that could assist him in negotiating with Samir or the other Clan Lords. If so, it could indeed be important.
Konrad’s demeanor shifted from shock to curiosity. “Would you mind if I joined? I have a few questions of my own.”
Géorg had no objection. He shrugged. “Sure. Needed help to find apartment, anyway.”
Konrad looked pleased and beckoned his friend to follow. “She’s taken residence in a nearby loft. Come. I’ll show you.”
Konrad led him from the inn to a busy cobblestone path leading to the main street. It bustled with people, almost as densely as inside. The journey took them further east, to a row of upscale apartments used to house city officials who had been rendered houseless since the destruction of the northern districts. Most of the homeowners were happy to move out, after the king compensated them with twice their home’s assessed value. The few remaining stragglers were given eviction notices and an armed escort. Konrad directed Géorg to a spacious loft in one of the larger four-story towers.
“Keep in mind,” he reminded on their way inside. “She may seem eccentric, but she is powerful and wise.” He also hesitated before adding, “And her visions are supposedly never wrong. If we’re fortunate enough to see the future, it could be important insight into the battles ahead.”
They ascended to a well-decorated suite on the topmost floor. Brightly colored drapes adorned the windows, and tapestries with ornate designs and florid symbols covered the walls. Géorg recognized a few mystic runes, similar to the ones from Lady Azul’s scrying room. A curtain of colorful beads hung over a large archway, and a pleasing melody consisting of a harp and flute drifted from within.
A delicate voice chimed from behind the curtain. “Step forward, Mister Töller and Mister Rommel.”
Géorg and Konrad entered into a central living chamber. There, they found a young woman laying comfortably on a couch, her black silken gown flowing like a river at midnight, sourced at her breasts, tumbling along every curve, all the way down to her ankles. Géorg had expected someone closer to Lady Azul’s age, but this woman was younger, sultry, and almost … seductive. Her features were flawless, except for slight wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. Long, black, voluminous hair cascaded halfway down her lithe, slender body, somewhat blending into her gown. The only color came from her lips and nails, which shined with red ochre lacquer.
Candles formed pools of light by the dozens, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Kitezhian rugs with dark, interwoven patterns laid across the floor, and eclectic curiosities lined the sides of the room, presumably from travels to Gaia’s most exotic locales.
Lady Rouge purred with a thick, East-Kitezhian accent. “Em pleased to see both have arrived. I apologize dat Mister Rommel didn’t receive his invitation. Neverdeless, eet seems de Fates destined him to be here.”
Géorg shivered at the idea of supernatural forces. He wondered what the powerful witch had to say that concerned both him and Konrad.
She held out her palm, which caused a small phial from the adjacent end-table to slowly float on top. She then twisted her other hand, and a cork appeared. “I hope you enjoyed my ambiance. Dis music is someting I captured long ago from a traveling band in Vineta. I put eet in a bottle so eet plays for me whenever I miss it.”
She corked the phial, and the music stopped. Géorg would have rather she hadn’t, since the silence made the mood all the more foreboding.
“Now … if you don’t mind, I’d like to get started.”
She gestured toward a round table with a candle in the center and cushions along the circumference. It was low off the ground, perhaps only a couple of feet in height.
“Please. Seet.”
Géorg chose the closest cushion and was joined by Konrad on his right and Lady Rouge on his left. She grasped both men’s hands and directed Konrad to complete the circle by placing his left hand on Géorg’s right shoulder.
She cleared her throat with the tiniest of coughs. When she spoke, her eyes went wide, creating a ring of contrast between her black kohl eyeliner and bright white sclera. They reflected the orange flames of the nearby candles.
She turned to her guests with her piercing gaze. “As you might have guessedt, I asked you here to share in a vision. Take note that I do not invite just anyone to my private chambers. However, you will soon discover dat dese divinations from de Great Beyond concerns de future of our beloved city. My hope is dat by offering you dis insight, we might together achieve a better outcome.”
“We’re honored to help, Milady,” Konrad affirmed.
Géorg realized that he had forgotten to breathe for the last several moments. He sucked in a lung full of air, trying to act natural. “Am honored, too, Lady Rouge. But, eh … thought your visions were never wrong. How then could we expect to change outcome?”
The witch smiled. “You are correct, Mister Töller. De events contained within my visions are destined to happen. Yet, vwat happens before or after ees up to you. Please do not spend time trying to prevent vwat you see from taking place. Rather, consider which paths might someday lead you there. And use dis information to guide your next steps.”
Géorg nodded. “Understood.”
She wagged an index finger. “I must vwarn you, … my visions might confuse you. And dey often come without context or explanation. People often find dem cryptic, and I do not have all de answers. Therefore, I ask dat you have patience, and put some thought into vhat they might mean.”
“We shall, Lady Rouge,” Konrad promised. Géorg nodded as well.
The witch began her incantation. As the words flowed from her lips, the candle in the center of the table sputtered and spit. The flame grew larger until it formed a wide, mirror-like surface. Géorg saw images in the center that shifted around chaotically. Between the flames, a view of the world finally stabilized.
Konrad gasped. “It’s Rungholt, and I see an army surrounding the city. They seem to be preparing for an attack! Are we foreseeing Angkor’s return?”
Géorg felt an onset of panic as he witnessed the same scene, but Lady Rouge merely sighed. “Patience, Mister Rommel. As you shall soon see, dese are not Angkorian armies.”
Konrad peered closer. “Whose, then?”
Géorg leaned as close as he dared, conscious not to singe his eyebrows. “Looks like Kitezhian forces.”
Beads of sweat appeared on his friend’s brow. “You’re right. But, why would they be preparing to attack Rungholt? Does this imply that Angkor has retaken the city?”
Géorg tried to make sense of it, while Lady Rouge remained silent. Her lips pursed, as if she were consciously holding back her opinion to let the men come to their own conclusions.
Konrad looked like he had run out of patience. “I can’t watch. If Angkor is destined to reclaim control, I need to take this information to Unruh immediately!”
He broke the circle, and the candle’s flame returned to normal.
Before he could stand, Lady Rouge was quick to chastise him. “I did not give you permission to leave, Mister Rommel! Return to your seat at once. Dere is more you must see, first.”
He hesitated, but she pointed her finger with its dark red nail at him, then drove the finger straight down toward the seat, with emphasis.
“Seet!”
Konrad obeyed, looking remorseful but also anxious. Géorg wasn’t used to seeing divinations, but if they were destined to occur, it seemed highly demoralizing. He and Konrad both worked hard to restore order to the city. If Angkor recaptured it, he wondered if it would all have been a waste of time. Konrad’s sullen expression suggested he was in similar agony.
Yet he rejoined the circle, and once again, the flame grew. When the image stabilized, Géorg saw a man walking among the soldiers. His body tensed. It was him! Curiously, this future projection had both arms attached, with hands that held a sword and shield. He shouted orders to his subordinates, which appeared to include highly decorated men in uniform. It didn’t make any sense. It appeared this future version of him was leading the brigade to reclaim the city.
The air felt stifling. He shook his head to clear the fog, but the vision was unmistakable.
“Cannot be me. Lost arm years ago. Must be imposter!”
Lady Rouge shook her head disapprovingly. “My divinations do not include imposters, Mister Töller. Admittedly, I know of no magic capable of growing back limbs, but de man in de vision has no prosthetics made of steel or wood. Eet appears dat your own flesh will be returned to you. As sure as tomorrow’s sunrise, there will come a day vwen you will debate battle strategy with high level military officials.”
Géorg reeled at the very thought of it. He didn’t want to see a future that couldn’t be changed. Nor one without explanation for how it came to be. When it came to Rungholt, he wanted to do everything in his power to protect it. Even if he did regrow an arm and gain possession of the Kitezhian military, he’d never use it against his own people. It seemed senseless to pollute the mind with riddles and scenarios so far-fetched that they served no purpose.
Nevertheless, Lady Rouge continued her incantation under her breath. The vision inside the flame panned eastward, over the fields and hills surrounding the city. About a league’s distance from Géorg’s camp, there was a second army.
“Another Kitezhian camp?” Konrad peered close to the flame, as if trying to puzzle out what he saw. “No, wait … it wasn’t a siege on the city.” His expression turned dour. “It’s two armies about to do battle, with the city as the stakes. Kitezhian against Kitezhian … in civil war!”
Géorg shared in Konrad’s gloom. The Kitezhian people had suffered enough already fighting Angkor. It seemed impossible that they would forego an almost existential enemy to turn on one another. The scene was gut-wrenching just to watch.
As it panned further, Konrad’s jaw dropped. The man leading the second army was none other than himself.
He scoffed. “I refuse to believe. I would never lead an attack against my own kinsmen. Never!”
Géorg asked the obvious question. “Which side defends the kingdom? And which is enemy?”
It seemed most likely that Konrad’s army would defend the crown, which meant he represented some kind of separatist movement. But, Géorg had no reason to revolt. He supported Kitezh, no matter who ruled. Either way, the scene painted a clear picture. One day, the people of Kitezh would face off against one another. And he and Konrad would be on opposite sides.
He was heartbroken. “When is supposed to happen?”
Lady Rouge shook her head. “Da visions don’t tell me when, Mister Töller, nor do dey tell me why. Eet could be years down da road. I only showed dis in da hope that we can prevent actual bloodshed. As you can see, da battle has not yet occurred, and it ees still wittin our power to prevent it. I am hopeful dat—”
She stopped, mid-sentence, eyes glazed. Her head tilted back, as if she were in a trance.
Géorg wondered if he should be alarmed. “Lady Rouge, what’s wrong?”
She squeezed with hand-crushing force. Géorg wanted to pull back, but he was caught in her iron grip. Her body jolted, and her willowy figure rattled with frightfully powerful spasms. Géorg knew this wasn’t part of the spell. Something had gone terribly wrong, and Lady Rouge was being thrashed in the process. He was tempted to wrest his hand free, but he feared that breaking the circle might make things worse.
Suddenly, the witch spoke in words that sounded like gibberish. He tugged her arm, but she kept on bellowing.
Now quite concerned, he looked to Konrad for assistance. But his friend wore an expression of pure dread.
“Konrad! Can we break circle to help?”
His friend’s gaze was transfixed to the candle. “No, look … the flame! It’s another vision!”
The flame grew, far larger than before. It rose from tabletop to ceiling, as wide as it was tall. It burned so brightly that Géorg worried the loft might go up in flames. Images furiously flashed in the center, and a deep, low-frequency vibration rumbled from inside. A calling, perhaps, from the Great Beyond. A presence moved through the room. Pages rustled from nearby books. Objects tumbled from shelves. A spectral wind blew on the nearby candles, causing them to flicker. He was terrified, but as the image in the flame became stable, he peered deeper inside. With shallow, deliberate breaths, he beheld the scene of a nightmare.
Gigantic spawn marched across a charred and barren landscape. The bodies of men and women lay in heaps, coated with a layer of dust and ash. A haze hung over the air, blocking the sun, and leaving the landscape in perpetual dusk. The image panned quickly over the land, showing cities in ruin, rivers and lakes reduced to empty sand-beds, and great forests with nothing more than burnt tree stumps. Even the ground decayed, with entire sections falling into gaping sinkholes.
The spawn marched toward a towering structure in the distance, taller and slenderer than any manmade object. Impossibly tall, by thousands of spans, defying all natural limits. It appeared as a shadowy strand against the backdrop of a crimson sky, an edifice that stretched higher than the mountains themselves. A beam of light emanated from its pinnacle, creating a beam of energy that shot straight up to the heavens.
It felt so real. Géorg was terrified, but he couldn’t look away. It was just an image, but it felt real enough that he could have been experiencing it from the inside. Horrified, he watched as the landscape broke apart into clumps that fell into an ocean of magma under the earth. The ground collapsed, until there was nothing left. Everything was gone. There were just endless flames … then just one flame … the flame of the candle.
The vision ended, and the candle was back to normal size. Lady Rouge went limp, and her body was damp with sweat. Géorg tried to ease her onto the floor. He gazed at his friend, but Konrad was frozen in catatonic shock.
Géorg was on his own. He tried tapping the powerful witch on the cheeks. “Lady Rouge … Lady Rouge, please wake up!”
She gulped a full breath of air and coughed. As soon as she was breathing normally, her eyes went wide, and she screamed. Géorg backed away, instinctively.
Her eyes darted back and forth around the room, until she realized where she was.
“Did you see eet? Did you see da vision?”
Konrad approached, now freed from his state of shock. “Yes, we saw it! But you can’t expect us to accept a future like that! What in the Goddess’s name was that?”
Lady Rouge calmed herself, and her breath returned to normal. “I … I don’t know. Eet was unlike any of my previous visions.” She slowly collected herself. “I’ve never been unsure before, but … dis time I don’t think what we witnessed was inevitable. I believe it was a warning. But … from whom, am not sure.”
Konrad’s eyes bulged. “It was the death of the whole flaming world! What kind of disaster leads to that kind of destruction? And what about those spawn? And that tower?”
Lady Rouge brushed back damp strands of hair from her disheveled face. “Please, remain calm. I must record dis vision before I forget even a single detail. Find Lady Azul, immediately! I need her powers of da mind to help me analyze it. But tell no one else. None must learn vwat happened here today until we understand what it means.”
Géorg’s hand trembled, and he felt sick to his stomach. “Agreed. If not certain, does no good to spread panic.”
Lady Rouge looked grateful for how well he was handling the situation. “I promise to contact you eef I learn anything.”
Géorg and his very pale friend left the loft. When they were back at street level, he felt it was the right time to address the other issue.
“Konrad, we should not discuss first vision, either.”
His friend might consider it a duty to inform King Unruh of a potential separatist upheaval, but there were too many things about the vision that cast doubt. Something might happen to force the two men to divide and take opposite sides, but it wasn’t clear who was Kitezh’s true defender, and who supported the separatists. If they let King Unruh decide, he might throw them both in prison, just to be safe. Yet, they were both needed to help Rungholt in its time of crisis. Regardless of what was destined to happen, they were on the same side now and needed the kingdom to trust them to do what was in Kitezh’s best interests.
He explained this and was happy to see Konrad on the same page. “Agreed. I trust you, my friend, and I know you have our best interests at heart. Whatever happens, it does us no good to speculate or sow seeds of distrust. Especially not now, when we are far more exposed to annihilation from Angkor.”
Géorg trusted Konrad, too. He was a smart man, and a good friend. There had to be a reason to explain what they saw. Or, perhaps, it was all just a misinterpretation. He had to acknowledge the silver lining that Angkor was no longer a threat in the vision, which might imply some kind of victory.
Even so, there should never be a reason for Kitezhian to fight Kitezhian. Géorg put his heart into defending his country and its freedom. The last thing he wanted was to undermine that freedom by dividing its people. And he was sure Konrad felt the same way. The future wasn’t inevitable. And if he and Konrad worked together, they could make sure their kinsmen never shed their own blood.
Nevertheless, there was plenty of work to do in the meantime. He couldn’t waste time dwelling on visions, when there was so much work left to do to ensure a successful counterattack. Failure wasn’t an option. And that meant visions of civil wars and ends of the world had to wait for another day.