"Copyright law exists across all dimensions."
— A Stranger's Guide to Names in Calernia, Author Unknown
"Y'know, this is prob'ly a waste of your time. There are other cats that you gotta skin," Songbird said from some distance to my right.
Her scarlet hair spilled over her shoulders and was accentuated by the warm, white dress that she wore.
"Esme needs the support."
I still didn't like Esme, but I was willing to extend her some trust. She had shown a willingness to help someone that she dreamed of hurting. That counted for something.
I turned away from Songbird and leaned further over the bronze balcony railing, then watched as snow dusted itself onto the stone garden below. Angels — the winged kind — depicted in marble surrounding a woman kneeling at the foot of a cross. It was a sculptor's rendition of the Hashmallim touching Eleanor Fairfax. The scene was tranquil, which I suspected was more of an artist's choice than a representation of the truth.
It was one of the many marvels of the Starlit Cloister.
"Y'can't be there for her every step of the way."
"But I'll be there at the start," I acknowledged.
"Got news from the war front. The fight at Cantal is coming to an end."
"Hopefully that means the civil war is over."
"Prob'ly."
"Have Pascal's faction gained any more traction?"
"They haven't. Still only a very small group. None of them were in the cathedral."
"My position is still less firm than I'd have liked."
"There's always been lotsa people who hate wizards. They'd always be a problem. Can't win everything."
"I know," I sighed. "Pass me the list."
I reached over to her and grabbed the bundle of parchments out of her fingers, then started to look at the questions on them.
"Told you that you'd end up living in the Starlit Cloister."
"This is temporary," I protested.
I flipped to the next page and started to skim the text. The calligraphy was neat despite the lack of lines, penned by someone with a far defter hand than my own.
"S'pose that means it's permanent."
"We need to organize the hierarchy first."
"Y'should've moved the church's seat of power to Aisne. Would've made for a better story."
"Narrative decisions need to be made within reasonable budget constraints," I repeated for what must have been the tenth time by now.
"M'pretty sure the House of Light can afford it," Songbird chortled.
She was right. The House of Light would still be a prosperous institution even after we'd finished purging corruption from it. It was only starting to occur to me now just how much power I had while I worked to consolidate it all. There were towns that existed because there were churches there. Every noble in Procer was raised with at least one priest as a childhood advisor. The House of Light owned land. Not as much as the princes did, but more than anyone else. It didn't have an army, but it was still everywhere. In every institution from top to bottom.
"You know why we can't do it."
The fact that the House of Light could threaten war should have clued me in to just how much power it had. I might not have an army at my command, but I had a kind of power which was just as terrifying. People would answer the call if I gave it, and it would cripple the nation of Procer.
That awareness — more than anything else — was what made me certain that we couldn't afford to move out of Salia. It would make for a powerful story, but we would be splitting the heart of power of the nation between two different locations.
If I wanted to be in charge of the Proceran House of Light without causing a catastrophe, then I needed to be careful about what I did.
"Still think y'should've risked it. Would've made for a story about a House working to redeem itself."
"Or it's the story of a rift between the church and the state."
"S'not like that rift won't already exist after you try pushing your changes through."
I finished paging through the list of questions and turned my attention back to Songbird.
"Why are there questions we already have the answers to. Name, age, friends, and family?"
The process of deciding who we wanted to fill out the key positions within the House of Light was time-consuming. I could have left the administration alone and until I was done reorganizing I was doing just that — most of the Holies were leaders but not administrators — but I didn't want to take the risk long term. It was better to clean the house out once, thoroughly, than allow my own lapse in vigilance to haunt me later.
The first round of the reorganization of the administration had been simple. All we did was ask those who were present and held a position of authority to nominate the people who they believed had the correct skills. They did so by dropping anonymous notes into boxes that I had designated for each position. We then took the responses and asked each person that had been nominated if they held any interest in occupying the position at all, and eliminated those who did not. It was important that they actually cared about performing whichever duty they had been nominated for.
There were flaws with our current approach. The first set of leaders that I would establish would be biased entirely towards those who were currently present in Salia. It would be nice if I could just skip to a system that represented each principality's interest fairly, but… for now I couldn't afford to. The situation would change in the future as people stepped down from positions over time and new people took them up. Until then, I had to make do with the world as it was now and not the world that I wanted to make.
"They're calibrating questions. Designed to elicit reactions. Esme works better the more she knows about how someone thinks. You're the one who wanted advisors who were both good and competent."
"Ah."
"S'not possible for Esme to do all of this by herself."
"We'll work on building her a team. An inquisition. She should have the skills to manage one. For now though…"
"She'll need to do this on her own," Songbird nodded.
"Come on," I passed the documents back to her.
The two of us departed from the balcony and made our way down the corridor. We walked beneath the arched rooftops and down the staircase to the lower floor, tiptoed past a room filled with priests in prayer, and across a plaza to a series of office buildings on the other side. Nobody disturbed us as we proceeded.
The silence of the place was restful.
At last, we both arrived outside our destination. A smattering of people stood lined up outside an aged wooden door. None of them spoke, and all of them had an aura of competence about them. Songbird seized the iron rung and pushed. Both of us stepped into an understated chamber with a mahogany desk set at the other side and another to the far right beneath a curtained window.
"May fair winds grace your sails, Taylor." Esme rose out of her straight backed chair as we entered and gave me a full on curtsey.
"Evening," I called out in reply.
The smooth surface of her green velvet dress rippled in the Light I emitted. Blank parchments were stacked into neat piles in front of her, and an inkwell rested beside her left hand. I imagined that all the plain pages would all be littered with details by the time that we were done.
Esme had been downright deferential towards me ever since the confrontation in the cathedral. Her attitude remained just as abrasive towards anyone else — it wasn't as if she'd had a sudden change of heart — and so I wasn't sure what to make of it.
Had my execution of Pascal truly earned her goodwill?
"This is your performance," I told her. "I'm just here to provide moral support."
Nobody would dare to question her presence within the Starlit Cloister while I was in the room. I doubted they would do anything regardless of that, but… after seeing how bothered my daughter had been, I figured the least I could do is sit in.
Songbird walked over to Esme and passed her the papers. Both of them started to talk them over together. I walked over to the desk on the right and started to look over the documents stacked on top of it. Good, everything that I was working on before was all accounted for.
All of it was daunting to consider.
I let out a sigh.
If I want to actually lead the Church, then I need to be prepared to do the work. I can't just foist the job onto someone else, Taylor. That means going through all of this and doing my best to make sense of it.
I reached out to the rough draft of the reorganization of the internal hierarchy that I'd been sketching out. Once I had a skilled administrator that I could trust, I'd have them examine my work for holes, then hear their suggestions on how to improve the system. Some parts of it were final and those positions I could already fill in, others were not.
Songbird finished her discussion with Esme and sat down beside me. It would have been preferable if I could sit next to her, but I didn't want to make her uncomfortable.
"You're ready?" I asked Esme.
She rang the bell beside her in reply.
A woman in white walked in. She didn't say anything, just paused and turned her grey eyes towards me.
"She's performing the interview," I told her.
"Tell us your name," Esme demanded, her lips turning down.
She looked like a slab of misery.
She wanted the woman to greet her first. It would be a show of deference from someone in a lower position of authority.
"Paloma," she grated out towards Esme in reply.
My eyes dropped from the figure that Esme was interrogating, back towards the conundrum on the tabletop piled with papers before me. One edict. Only, it had many variations. Which one was the correct one?
Two votes per principality, or should the votes be determined by population? One vote for every hundred thousand citizens? The latter is more fair to the people, but there are so many reasons that make it impractical. The former is biased, but it's biased towards the northern principalities. I could also allocate votes based on how many members the church has in each Principality, but that would heavily skew the votes towards the south. The north are the ones that have to combat the real threats, biasing decision-making in their favour might be the correct decision.
Songbird flicked my right leg. I stopped tapping the floor with my boots and found myself biting my lower lip instead.
"Tell us about your existing relationships with your friends and family."
"My mother was a draper and my father died not even half a year past in the war-" her voice cracked.
I felt a pang of sympathy for the woman.
This was the second round of interviews. Esme was doing her best to eliminate those who we were certain did not possess the skills we required, or possessed ulterior motives. I made a short note on a page about what her dream was — it would help Esme put together a better picture of the woman later — then tuned her voice out.
I continued to mull over the details of my reforms.
There's also the organizational issue. It isn't hard for me to arrange frequent meetings for two representatives per principality. Arranging for hundreds would slow down our capacity to function. It would also grind decision-making to a halt when so many people have a voice. Then again, the House of Light in the south might rebel against my authority and split off from the rest of us if they don't feel they are given fair consideration. It wouldn't surprise me if they felt it to be unfair to pay for projects that they'd never witness… Urgh, make up your mind, Taylor.
It would be so much easier if I was worried about the smaller positions of power rather than the actual positions of leadership in each principality. I'm happy with the responsibilities I've assigned to them outside their duties as representatives, but not with how many of them there should be. If it was day-to-day problems that concerned me, then I'm confident that I could afford to make a mistake here and then fix it later, but it's not. It's a decision that I cannot afford to mess up at all. I need to get it right the first time.
The interviews continued as I deliberated. Every so often I would look up and make a note of their dreams, then turn my attention back onto the draft. The process had almost drawn to a close by the time I had made up my mind.
I leaned back into my chair and sighed as the last person walked out of the room.
"Have you decided how you wish to organize your fleet's crew?" Esme inquired.
"I'm going to give the final draft of the edict to the right people to look over," I agreed.
"D'you want to bet on what she settled on for the people up top?" Songbird asked Esme.
"Two representatives from each principality, elected by the priests within those principalities. They have a long list of responsibilities," I tapped the draft of the edict, "but the most important part is their ability to vote on future church mandates. They meet once a year in Salia to vote. I retain the right to veto decisions if I disapprove, or issue edicts of my own. Only me or an appointed representative can put forward any proposals in the Highest Assembly." I interjected.
If I let Songbird get started on riling up Esme, then the two of them would bicker until dawn.
"Y'know, you just took the fun out of betting with Esme," Songbird pouted. "This system runs lotsa risks as well. Why let anyone else have a say if you're the one that's really in charge? They're 'sically just advisors, but you're giving them ambitions by letting them vote on things on their own."
"There's a reason I'm choosing to lead this way. The Arlesites have different concerns to the Lycaonese, who also have different concerns from the Alamans. I get to put a finger on the pulse of these differences by making them vote on what they want, which is important if I don't want the House of Light to splinter. I'm also not going to give my opinion on most matters, only the ones that I think warrant intervention."
"Y'should ignore what everyone down south says and turn your attention to the undead up north."
"What term lengths have you decided on for the representatives? Esme inquired.
"A decade. Each Principality will have its own administrative division which will keep records, which will be returned to the central authority in Salia once a year to be consolidated. The annual financial results will be made available to the public and audited. There will be rules governing how discrepancies should be handled, but those will be left up to my eventual financial advisor to determine."
The only question in my mind was whether the audit should be internal or external. I was leaning towards an internal audit. While that was prone to problems of corruption, I trusted the nobility far less than the priests. Well, that and if I gave the authority to audit House of Light accounts away to the Princes, there wasn't a way to reclaim it afterwards without a war. And there was the other looming issue that I was trying to avoid causing. Even trying to give that kind of authority away to outsiders would likely cause a religious schism.
"Do you intend for them to budget for themselves, or have you charted a different course?"
"This is something I intend to take up with the treasurer once we decide on who should occupy the position," I evaded.
"Do you mean to tell me that you have not given this any thought?" Esme pursed her lips.
"I have, but this is something that I know will require review from an expert. My initial thoughts are for each House of Light to maintain their own budget and keep between twenty and fifty percent in excess of the coin they require to function as a margin of safety. The rest would be allocated towards larger church projects that fall under the mandate of the House of Light at large."
"I spent some time dissecting the church accounts and noted taxes of both finished goods and raw materials taken from those on land belonging to the House of Light. Candles, metals mined out of the ground, produce, furniture. What of them?"
"Goods will be categorized depending on a number of factors, including whether they will perish and how liquid they are. Those categories will then be handled on a case by case basis. Here is the full documentation I made for accounting," I picked up a stack of parchments detailing budgeting and walked across to Esme.
She took them with her bloodstained hands and began to read.
While I wasn't certain how good her education was among the nobility, there was no harm in allowing her to inspect my work. The more people that reviewed it before implementation, the safer my plans potentially were. I knew that the nitty-gritty details of budgeting for an institution this large was beyond me. Fortunately, it was not the role that I intended to occupy.
"S'pose you've got plans for your paladins in there somewhere?"
"These," I said, walking over to the table, picking up a dense stack of worn sheets and dumped them in front of Songbird, "are for you."
"A Stranger's Guide to Names in Calernia," her brow furrowed. "S'not plans for paladins," she complained as she leafed through the draft.
I sat back down once more. Better to stay far away from Esme. She didn't deserve to be burned.
"It's a summarized outline of the general shape of every story that I know from my old life. It also contains some commentary on local stories and parts of my diary," I agreed. "I want that copied, turned into a set of books, and then distributed to a priest from each principality."
At least half of the pages had just been copied out of my diary and translated to Chantant. It was more a collection of ideas than a proper book. That wasn't important. Other heroes and villains didn't record the lessons they learned for fear of those lessons being turned against them. This was my attempt to break from the mould and hopefully help heroes to win just a little more in the process.
"S'pose this is why you hadn't sent for scribes yet. There's lotsa pages here."
"It took me a while to settle on the final manuscript."
"Right."
"Oh and… Don't put my name on the final copy."
"Thought you weren't ashamed of your past."
"I'm not, but I gave up my right to those stories. I'm not sure if there's a risk of something bad happening if I claim ownership of them."
"Pfft," Songbird snorted, "you're being ridiculous. S'not like these notes are full stories, just brief explanations."
"It also contains remnants of stories that aren't mine. I don't want to present someone else's work as my own, either."
"S'not like the author of those stories is gonna cross dimensions and shank you."
"You never know."
"D'you think that the guard from your old home will teleport into the church if you copy someone else's book?"
"You're making it sound like copyright law exists across all dimensions."
"I am unfamiliar with copyright law, would you mind shedding some light on what it is?" Esme added, looking up from the documents she held.
"Not important. A very bad, concise explanation of them that works in this context is that they're laws relating to the ownership of text."
"S'pose if you won't put your name on the book, then I'll just put that where the author's name goes," Songbird's voice was laced with just a hint of mischief.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Put what?"
"Copyright law exists across all dimensions."
"Don't."
"I'll put it on the contents page, then," she sang.
"Song."
"Y'should give the House of Light your blessing so that they can copy the book."
"That's… not how it works."
"Just in case."
"When will the third round of interviews take place?" I changed the topic.
"Once we've finished eliminating candidates that don't fit. S'gonna be the biggest time waste."
"I've messed up leadership before," I breathed out. "This time I want to do it right. That means I need to have advisors and listen to them. The problem is that I can't fill every role, and whoever advises me will always know a lot more than I do. I'm not even the right person to judge if they're the right person in a lot of cases. For this to work, I need to be able to trust people, which means…"
"That you're gonna be anal about the selection process. I get that y'want the best people for each job, but having every candidate set a test for all the others is taking this too far."
"It really isn't."
"Only a shipwright can properly criticize another man's boat," Esme agreed.
"And what happens when they get crafty about this? Score each other low, or set a test that only they can pass."
"They can try. It won't work. Esme can catch them out. Playing by the spirit of the rules is the most important part. And after disqualifying anyone who tries… We create an aggregate score across every test, weighting each test equally. The remaining candidate with the highest score is the one who earns the position."
"M'pretty sure this system will cause problems."
"Why?"
"Takes forever to choose someone and s'not possible to game it easily. Nobles that joined the church but were still used to being listened to aren't gonna be happy. 'Specially when they don't get the jobs."
"Second round eliminates most of them anyhow. The process will also be refined for the future. That cuts down on the time. We're eliminating anyone that you think I won't be able to work with, remember?"
"Anyhow, I'll handle this," Songbird raised the pile to me and departed the room.
I was about to return to the actual paladin proposal — which I intended for Cordelia to look over for many reasons first — when Esme spoke up once more.
"What would be the appropriate manner to apologize to your daughter?"
Each word crept out of her mouth slower than the drift of the continent.
They still took me by surprise.
"Talk to her and be sincere."
"I know which apology gifts would suit a peer among the nobility, but am not aware of the correct protocol governing gifts for heroes." She stood, pushed her chair in, walked over and stacked my proposal neatly beside me.
"A gift isn't going to earn her forgiveness."
A magical treatise written by one of the Gigantes just might, but I didn't want to send Esme off on a hare brained quest to find one.
"Observing proper courtesies is about showing respect to whoever you are communicating with," she emphasized.
That's… not how emotions work.
"It will be hard to earn her forgiveness, but I think it's good that you want to try."
"I felt like I was standing alone facing the oncoming storm when I argued with Pascal in the cathedral," she whispered.
"I heard that she wondered out loud why the priests hadn't killed you."
"I wasn't alone. Had I not acted against Yvette in haste, the two of us might have been friends. I wish to make amends." She sounded wistful. I didn't know why, and I wasn't prepared to ask.
"Earning her trust will be a long journey."
"Then it's best that I raise the sails early."
