Interlude CCCLXXVIII: Of Broken Shackles and Paths Not Walked
Of Broken Shackles and Paths Not Walked
Seventeenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
"Let me greet Tyrosh, where the dreadful scars left behind by cults and madness are slowly mended, where slums have made way to true homesteads, and even now the second branch of the Scholarum is readying to offer wisdom and the arts of the arcane to all who are willing to master them."
Horio of Tyrosh took in these words with a surge of pride, his smile growing just a touch wider as he looked out over the stands to the surviving magisters of the city like a gathering of bedraggled peacocks in their bejeweled finery and hair dyed every color of the rainbow. These men and women who had once sneered at him as they dolled out a pittance of coin for his services now courted his favor. He had not forgotten and even less would they forget who had been slaves under the master's lash, their oaths to lord and land they would keep, and in so doing reforge the city in more than brick and mortar.
"A fine showing, though words do not go quite so well without being able to throw coins into the crowd," japed Gorgious 'the Generous', once a officer in the Second Sons now wearing the black armor of the Legion. Though the man loved to boast and make much of himself, not to mention his involvement in the conquest, he made decent enough company and a helpful friend to cultivate. They were both 'New Men' raised up by the King and his budding realm, after all.
"He has a better arm for throwing coin than most. If you do not believe me, look at the docks," the mage replied.
***
The plaza in the still half-empty Gilded Quarter of Lys had nothing of the boisterous cheering the listeners could hear through the strange arcane mirror, for the city was new-come to the dragon's rule and still uncertain of its place. Alyna, once a bed slave in one of the city's notorious pillow houses, was more happy than words could say to be free, but as many others had before her she was looking at the sudden uncertainty of the future.
"And let me greet Lys, which shared so much similar suffering, first ravaged by plague, then nearly taken over by a madman called only the 'Fool' after his passing at the hands of the Legion. But even though these wounds are still fresh, the scars from collars not yet faded, I can feel the hope whenever I walk that city's streets, I can see the people's will to leave the dark behind and strive for a brighter future."
Almost in spite of herself she laughed to hear Aedon spoken of thus. She had served him enough times to know that of all things in the world he loved himself most. He would have fucked himself if he could have done it without cutting off his cock. So to hear him spoken of not even by name, but simply as 'the Fool', was a joy to the ear, to be able to laugh at another reminder that she was free and no one would be putting a collar on her again, unless they wished to face the sorcerer whose will was steel and flame.
***
"So it is in Myr also, who have joined us in peace to take part in our dream. And if the hammers of the artisans sound a bit brighter these days, the barter in the markets less burdened by worry, then I like to think it is because the people know that they are no longer alone, that they no longer need to struggle all by themselves against the world."
"But when we speak of struggle I would be remiss to not greet the Legion. Be it in the camps of the First Legion bringing order to the Flatlands, the camps of the Second Legion maintaining peace and order in the Disputed Lands or, of course, the many barracks and training fields of Westheaven, where so many sweat and toil each day, not just for their own gain, but to become protectors of their fellow man and women."
To hear these words the legionaries of Westheaven cheered, clapped, and stomped their feet, someone had even bought a great drum half the height of a man and covered in tanned elephant hide, the thing could all but wake the dead, but none cheered louder nor was prouder in the doing than Jorio called the 'Jinx' by his comrades for he had been born in Myr, and though he fled from slavery he'd left his kin behind. For all the name given in jest he had never felt more fortunate than the day he could walk into the house of his former master in full armor and demand to know where his kin were.
He'd been more lucky than most in his shoes too, for he had found only one dead and that was from illness and age, not the master's whip. Keeping his family fed off a legionary's coin until they found their footing wasn't the easiest thing, but they would all make it to see that even better world the King was promising.
***
"To Mantarys and Tolos I wish to extend my greeting next, those far-away cities in the east who had been our allies for so long before joining us in full. Even now they stand as bulwark against the madness and depredations of Slaver's Bay, while their own citizens enjoy the prosperity brought by magic and trade with the west."
As the voice of his overlord rolled out of the enchanted mirror, washing over the crowd like the tide, Relath wondered where he could find his own mirror. How much would it cost in coin or favor, for the thought of addressing so many so swiftly without having to move from his throne of gold and treasure appealed to him greatly. Perhaps once Slaver's Bay was taken, the dragon thought, knowing the battle would come sure as the seasons changed. The Dragon King would not bear lands ruled by fools and madmen on his borders, as was only proper... Was Yi Ti better held in check, he wondered?
As his people dreamed of peace and prosperity, the dragon dreamed of power and wealth, and neither begrudged the other their dreams.
***
"And to Naath and Sallosh my greetings go, where with steel and sorcery, new cities rise from the ashes left by the Century of Blood. Where life and joy returns after far too many years of fear and death."
Few there were in Naath who spoke the trade tongue well even two years after the island had begun to build up again, to set ships upon the seas, but not for nothing was their lady a sorceress herself, for she had gifted skilled criers with that understanding with magic that they may call out the words in the tongue of their people. The talk of cities and trade still troubled the elders and the servants of the Lord of Harmony, but even they could not deny that it was better to know themselves and their children safe in sight of the sea than to live ever in fear.
Missandei was just old enough to attend, a child in her mother's arms, and she did not understand many of the words even so. But she did have something to say, not that the grown ups were paying much attention to her: "Mama, mama, I dreamed of a girl with hair like that in a place where red stairs went all the way up to the sky. She was good, but the place was bad. I'm glad I'm not going there..."
OOC: Yes, that is a canon character having a prophetic dream. In a few years she will probably end up in the Scholarum.
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