Who was I, and what did I want?
I looked at the reflection with tired eyes – a tired body, tired of fighting the current pointlessly.
If I didn't like that, then there was two options.
"Choose a different path. We are choosing our own futures," I murmured. "So then what future do I want to see?"
Formless dust. Unknown possibilities. Words associating and disassociating. Ideas and images swirling together, blended and dashed against my own self-image, and feelings of who I could be.
From the foam, an ideal emerged.
I wanted to save the revolution.
I wanted to succeed Nezhin.
Everything else was optional, or something I didn't see as important.
So then how did I get from where I was, on top of the clock tower, to there?
There was too much to think about.
So instead, I thought about two much simpler steps.
For most of my child life, I'd lived in either my tribe up in the mountains, or sequestered in the city of Oskarian cities, the Capital itself. I didn't know how the revolution was faring outside of the Capital. Jacquemin had remarked to me once that we were being too insular inside his clubs. Too self-absorbed.
Well, I needed to leave the city anyways, so I could do something about that. That's one.
The other was simple: how could I be Nezhin's successor without knowing the first thing about her?
I couldn't.
So I would simply have to learn more about her.
Her, or as I was suddenly realizing, my real competition for successor.
Deacon.
And what do you know, up he came the bloody steps.
He found me with his typical downturned frown, looking down at me with his scowl. His eyes looked at my bloodied form, lingered on my knuckles, and then glanced over to the bloody bell.
He grunted, closing his eyes before the blue fire he kept burning behind those eyes consumed him.
"So? What are you doing out here?" he finally said.
I laughed. No, I choked on my own self-righteousness. I turned out to look to the smoldering city.
"Reflecting on what's happened," I said. It was a half-truth, and probably the most truthful words I'd spoken to him since we last truly spoke.
"Awfully uncomfortable place to do that," Deacon said, still looking down at me. "And what were you thinking, leaving without telling anyone else where you went?"
I looked at him, and I was done holding back. Too much had happened for me to worry about something that trifling. I looked at this arrogant orcish prick, who thought he knew so much of the world because he was educated, because he was talented and I wasn't. Because he wanted so badly to be elite, he'd try to be elite in everything.
"I think I hate you," I said.
"Really," Deacon said, totally unsurprised.
I disliked him for many reasons. I thought he was a prick, judgemental, and I responded to his disdain with disdain. That was practically nothing. Two people can dislike each other for petty reasons.
It was easy to say all that I had thought about him. But stacking him against the bell made it abundantly clear.
I hated him because I saw the parts I hated most about myself in him and laid that over my impression of him until the caricature became infinitely larger than life. He didn't really deserve that. And if even if he did, I wouldn't stand for a false image of him. I was going to find the truth.
"No, I know better. I'm just lashing out because things didn't work out." I finally said.
Deacon stopped short. Blinking uncomprehendingly.
"What are you acting so surprised for?" I bit back.
"It's not an act," Deacon snorted. "It's real surprise. When did you stop being a stavebiter?"
A wince flashed across his face as soon as he said it. Stavebiter? I didn't know that insult. I made a note to learn it later. That was later, though.
Now, I shunted myself forward and leaned on my hand. My barely closed wounds hurt, and I recalled that I was still massively injured. But that was just pain.
"I grew up," I said. "Reflected a bit. Like I said."
"Of course," Deacon said, sarcasm dripping from his fangs. "What did you learn?"
"I learned that I don't know very much," I said. "Things have been happening to me, rather than me happening to them, because I've been stumbling around in the dark. Everything has to have a reason, and I intend to find it."
Deacon blinked.
"And what do you plan to do when you find it?"
"I don't know," I honestly admitted. "I'll find out on my way there."
"Right, I shouldn't have expected better," Deacon said, massaging his temples with his hand. "But enough sniping at each other, let me see your wounds."
Deacon did a good job of bandaging and dressing my wounds. But the dressing and the mere passage of time dulled the flames of my own will, and the agonizing pain came back. I pushed that back with my will. Barely successfully, if Deacon's concerned glances were anything to go by, but I pushed each wave of agony back.
So I reached Nezhin's house, I was just tired. Tired to my bones, tired to my core. The world was meaninglessly colorful. The world was meaninglessly noisy. The world was meaninglessly painful. My body moved, but inside I felt only the next thing to be done, life stretching out like a checklist before me.
Return the useless coins.
Take off my clothes. Change into a different, less bloodstained set.
Step around the small obstruction in the way.
Granny Nezhin put a hand on my knee.
"Slow down, Axax," she said. "You look like you're about to fall apart."
"I am," I honestly admitted. Tears prickled my eyes and my hands refused to move unless I made them. "But I have to keep moving forward, or I'll fall apart."
"Oh," Nezhin whispered. "You and your father were always so headstrong. Child, it's not weakness to admit your own wounds. If you never admit you have them, you can't heal."
My eyes seized up with tears. My knees fell out. The numbing exhaustion gave way to agony.
Agony which wracked my body and forced what little I could still heave up through my throat. Agony which bent me over double and tore the breath from my throat in a ragged, choked cry. The agony of knowing that there was something that could've been done – the agony that nothing could have been done – swirling together to drag me down further.
But I didn't know why I was suffering like this.
Hadn't I promised that I would never give up again?
No, I promised that, I recalled, somewhere in the midst of that interminable day.
A promise like that didn't keep me from crying, though, I deliriously reasoned.
I apologized over and over again.
Nezhin was there for me the whole day, whispering to me that it was going to be okay. I can't remember anything she said specifically. Those days are painful to remember.
But she was there.
And that meant more to me than words could ever say.
I wasn't the only one who mourned that season.
The Maiden of Light had touched more people than I had thought possible. The funeral was somehow split over five days just to allow all the mourners to assemble – the first to light the fire, the second to visit the potential burial sites, the third to consult with the friends and family, the fourth to consult with whatever spirits who still wished to bless her, and the fifth as the grand sendoff.
I remember receiving that printed cardsheet and nearly tearing the original to pieces on the spot.
What a joke.
The fire was lit by her close friends and associates. Many who had accompanied her on the streets had come in, and we filled a plaza that first day, only with people from the capital.
And amongst their midst, I marked out General Theodosia – although he only wore a plain mourner's clothes – and spoke with him privately.
"I'm sorry, Aisha. She will be dearly missed," I remember Theodosia saying.
But something seemed off about that exterior.
Something fake.
"Weren't you the one who told me that some sacrifices were justified?" I said, realization dawning. "You - " and now that I looked at the mask of his smiling face, and I realized that perhaps I'd never seen anything but masks – "…you'd do it again, and a thousand times more, wouldn't you?
"So I did," Theodosia said, "and so I would. That's what it means to be a general, Captain. It's an exquisite kind of madness, to order thousands to their deaths without blinking an eye. Those who strive for greatness should not deceive themselves about whether their own greatness – their own cause – matters less than the lives of others."
I stood stock-still, shocked by the sheer disregard Theodosia displayed. Was this his mask cracking? Was he always like this? My numb mind couldn't process it. So instead my mouth followed the last instructions I had planned for it.
"…I came here to tell you I'm stepping back. I'm wounded, and right now I can't be the officer or the general this nation needs."
"I see. You're heading off to find your better path?"
"That's right."
"Then I wish you the best of luck, Aisha. There may still be a position waiting for you, if all goes well."
I accepted the dismissal for what it was.
I left as quickly as I could. There was something wrong there.
The second day, almost three weeks later, they needed me, Nezhin, and Deacon to dig one of the gravesites – searching for dead grudges, good soil, and to break the cold ground. And of course as they paraded the urn of her ashes, a procession of people followed her. The dirty unwashed masses, and the perfumed greats of the city alike.
At the end of the second march, a theater troupe reenacted her dramatic charge, from the moment she was stabbed to the moment she broke the sky. Of course, I had been written out of the events – because it must have been Theodosia who helped write the script for that play.
I was numbly furious, even as Deacon put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head.
"They don't want to hear that story," he gruffly said, "and honestly, I don't think you want to see how they put you in."
There was something so intensely personal about the third day that I chose to avoid it to go look for Thevenet. But I couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually I gave it up as a bad job. If he didn't want to be found, than he didn't want to be found.
On the fourth day, during a cold day in mid February, we saw the spirits which came to mourn her passing. The red baleful light like three swords hung overhead – and I realized that must be the image of Oskaria, longing to deliver retribution for her favored child, and granting you favor for killing her killer.
But I will not allow something else in here. If you can find me, you will understand why..
It didn't take, which Oskaria only reluctantly accepted. So instead you watch the spirits of the river and the spirits of distant mountains and forests come to pay respects to her grave spirit, what little remains, and to the new reigning Oskaria.
For all that there is a clear distaste between the two.
So when it ends, you decide to visit one last haunt, to pause one last project before you set out again.
"I am sorry for your loss, Aisha. She was a great inspiration."
Jacquemin was a man of few words. The way he delivered those twelve words that made me utterly convinced of his sincerity, in a way Theodosia or Thevenet could not imitate in twelve hundred words.
I nodded in response. "I'm here to discuss some business, though." I said, wiping an errant tear. "Or rather, that I need to step away from the Capital. I have business outside the Capital I need to deal with."
"I understand. Will you be stepping back permanently?"
"No. There's still something beautiful I want to fight for, and I have no intention of letting it fall to ruin through inaction."
Jacquemin stayed silent for a moment, processing my words for the first time.
"Those words ring true. Hold them tight. I will not hold you here; please stay in touch. I wish you good luck."
"I will," I said.
Jacquemin nodded.
Then we separated, walking on our different paths.
The fifth day was nothing but pageantry, on one of the last and coldest days of winter.
The whole city had stopped. The whole city had doubled in people. Mountains and forests had come to mourn her. Rivers and deer marched alongside the meanest beggars and the most pompous representatives. There was not one speech order but seven orders of speeches, commemorating her passing. I saw colonists of all stripes follow in her wake, soldiers and adventurers marching in memory. It was a city in mourning; it was a country in mourning.
Lakes of wine and seas of cattle were offered that day and night, as the feasting and mourning lasted through and through. Long processions of weeping artisans marched the same streets, and a fever pitch of artists gathered together to paint a grand work, taking over a tennis court for the sheer need for space. June and the boys "found" a cask of mead and cracked it open with Giuseppe. I remember seeing Aunt Betty and Uncle Milo wandering the streets, drunk.
The churches which would have barred her held long sermons and remembrances for her.
The Spire of the City's lights were lit up day and night.
I stepped through the cathedral as subtly as a woman as tall as an oak could. I walked to the back alley, where I saw that the hallway where I confronted Ludovic. Someone had at least removed the body, but I could still see the blood stain the tile, and the places where our blows had chipped the floor and furnishings.
Even as part of me felt a savage joy at remembering the taste of revenge, a quiet part of me noted that there was an enormous gulf between the procession for the Maiden of Light, and the King's Southern Pillar.
A sign of the times, I thought, as I stepped past the point of our decisive battle.
I climbed all those flights of stairs to look out over the city meditatively. To cast my gaze from the city to the countryside beyond, nearly invisible under the light of the Aurora. To the far horizons, heading north, where I was following Nezhin to see the Commonwealth.
Where the prism of alternate future awaited.
Long Term Agendas
Save the Revolution
Succeed Nezhin
Short Term Agendas
Help Spread the political clubs and correspondence beyond the capital
[All seasonal plans require one political action. This goal will be completed when … you don't actually know.]
Interact with Deacon/Nezhin
[All seasonal plans require one Nezhin/Deacon action. This goal will be completed once Nezhin or Deacon reach SL 3]
Word on the Grapevine
Have you seen how popular the Maiden of Light is? Everyone coming here to remember the Maiden of Light, the leading figure of the Revolution…
Forewarned
From your comrades in the National Guard, and a few glances aside to you, you've heard that the Spirit of Tradition has split up to continue fighting outside of the Capital, and has begun rapidly retreating from anywhere that pledges its loyalty to Oskaria first – but the Spirit of Oskaria is extremely generous with granting planting and harvesting rights…
One AP allocated to Chores. 6 AP free.
Social Links
Nezhin II – You say you want to be the successor to Nezhin. But what does it mean to be Nezhin, Mage of Flowers?
Deacon II – You've been…too aggressive against him. Unnecessarily spiteful. You should apologize, and then move to the heart of it.
Jacquemin II – You plan to stay in touch beyond just writing to each other as friends. But also, on a strategic level – how to save the revolution?
Thevenet II – Okay, you're calling in to collect. What's up with the Commonwealth, and what's the reason that he didn't show up to the Maiden of Light's burial?
Theodosia II – You…you think he's too dangerous to allow him to take the initiative. What are his plans for you?
Training
Melee 5: – Sweeping trains you to destroy the foundations. Piercing trains you to destroy their defense. These are the methods of violence. But Nezhin says it's all required to teach you the next step: to destroy the methods of destruction. Disarmament.
Armor 3 – Armor is not merely something you wear. It is something you internalize – that pain is merely pain. Train how to use your armor to turn wounds – into mere pain.
Ranged 3 Skill – You can shoot under normal circumstances, yes. But can you shoot under every circumstance?
Officer's Sense – An officer that can only make use of automatons is wasting their soldier's talents.
Empathy – You've been burned by your lack of empathy before. You should work on taking it to the next level.
Intimidation 3 Skill – Making other people fear you is a blunt instrument. What do you need to do to turn it into a useful tool?
Persuasion 4 Skill – Advancing to the next level of public speaking is a simple question: how do you speak to the public like you're close friends? You need to practice this.
Diplomacy 4 Skill – It's one thing to cooperate with people who you like and whose positions you respect. Can you work with your worst enemy if they have what you want? And can you convince them to help you?
Deductions 3 – If you want to seek the truth, you're going to have to develop your ability to discern the truth.
Stealth 3 – Similarly, there are truths in this world that are being hidden. If you want to find them, you're going to have to sneak past its guards.
Academic: 4 Memory Palaces – At some point, the well-learned reader must remember far more than the part of their brain that handles language can remember. You need to go beyond that. Nezhin's mentioned a technique called "memory palaces".
Practical: 4 Gut Sense Skill – Common Sense is common sense. Most people have that much. But a few people have a gut instinct even beyond that – and Nezhin says she has a suggestion on how to advance there.
Education Discovery 4 Skill – It used to be that the Compact would come after anyone who mentioned this. Life operates by a continuous chain of miracles. But is it possible to dissect a miracle, and to replicate one?
Crafting 1 – You remember a wooden bird from your childhood. You're quite busy these days, but maybe it would make for a good hobby?
Steward's Sense 3 – If you want to strike out on your own, you're going to have to learn more fundamental skills about being on your own.
Blessings 3 – Maybe advancing your own ability to receive blessings would help you, wherever you ultimately need to go.
Sealing: 2: Pressure Points – Energy, blood, air, and commands travel through the body through certain areas. Block the right points, and you can block those flows.
Projection 2: Varied Effects – Spells pour out from your own power – but they can be altered as they leave and contact the world. Mastering this step will make your magic much more versatile.
Shaping 2: Stance Change – Sometimes all it takes is a change in perspective, from you.
Refinements
Officer's Sense – There's something off about this. An officer can take their skills elsewhere – but it's different skills, you think.
Empathy – There's something here, if you push yourself. Empathy is more than history, and more than circumstance adding up. There's something innate to it.
Factions
National Guard [Capital] – Even if you're stepping back, it'd be a good idea to hang back and tie up and any loose ends here.
National Guard [Near Capital] – The National Guard near the capital isn't as powerful as the one inside the Capital, but maybe seeing what the people nearby are up to will give you some lessons – especially because this group seems more aristocratic than the Capital groups.
The Clubs of the Capital – This is where all the political dynamism of the day is happening. Everyone who wants to be someone politically is working through the clubs inside the capital.
The Clubs Near the Capital – Everybody with serious energy and means probably moved to the capital – leaving the clubs near the capital the domain of everyone who can't easily move, or who can't afford or stand the inner city.
The New Revolutionary Governments – Outside the riotous convention happening, a bunch of new local revolutionaries just got elevated to highest levels of local government. Getting in touch with them might be worthwhile.
Streets – You could revisit these old haunts, as people seem to be bursting at the seams to renovate their city, now that the strictures of Order are out.
Capital Suburbanites – Near the capital, it's either the people who can't afford to rent a room inside the Capital, or the people who want to buy enough money for a massive tract of land. Either way, they haven't been a large part of the Revolution – yet.
Adventurers – The ranks of adventurers have begun rapidly swelling, bringing them with rowdiness and the kind of arrogance only long veteran traveling sellswords can have – but all the same, they've probably seen more of the world, and would be a potent political force for the entire nation, if you can secure their loyalty.
Students – The students have been one of the strongest forces of the Revolution so far. But with a little bit of discipline and organization, and that energy can be put to productive use.
Preparation
Tradition - You should consult Nezhin for what the Spirit of Tradition does for everyone, since it's clear that seemingly everyone in Oskaria is preparing to deal with its absence.
Acquire
Buy a custom weapon – Something about Ludovic's green sword has stuck in your mind.
Buy reference texts – Your growing ability to use information means that the more information you get your hands on, the more connections you can come up with.
Buy clothes – the right kind of dress can be quite impressive, you know.
Buy potions – You've heard that there are potions which can enhance your attributes – physical, mental, or spiritual.
Random Events
Funerals - The Days of September left many grieving. Perhaps there is something to learn at the funerals there.
Giuseppe – You remember a toymaker from your youth, and out of respect you'll accompany June and the boys for one thing they're trying to prepare for Giuseppe.
Betty - Aunt Betty wants to take your time to complain about the weather.
Mr. Thompson - Mr. Thompson has a situation that your abilities might help with - something about getting swarmed?
Paedi - Hey, how are the tailors Paedi doing?
Goblin Troubles - Someone came in looking for Deacon, a short little goblin. They wanted Deacon, not Nezhin, and neither of them are in, so you suppose you can help them out.
Tavern gossip – You hear that the taverns near the capital are particularly well-appraised of the going-ons of the world. Maybe you can learn something there.
Strong Hands Needed - Since the strictures of Tradition are gone, there's practically a building bonanza in the poorer parts of town! They want any strong hands they can get!
Oh Shit! - Something's gone badly wrong with sewage management five streets over! They need every hand they can get to handle this current situation!
