The Zombie Knight

It was a mess. As he knew it would be. As they all knew it would be. Once word arrived that Vanderberk wanted to “negotiate” with them, none of the Rainlords had been in doubt.

There could be no parley with such a man.

As he tried to come to grips with this earth-shattering revelation, the silent sound of Garovel’s voice managed to regain his attention.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ said the reaper, wrapped in the echo of privacy.

He didn’t know how to explain, especially considering they were still in the middle of a different conversation. ‘Egh... I’ll tell you later.’ And he tried to put it out of his mind--or at least into a background thought process.

But then he remembered that there was more to it than just the Candle being wrong. Naturally, when he’d first realized that details about Bloodeye already existed in his head, he’d made sure to double check that information against what was available on the internet. That, after all, was how he’d even come to conclusion that the knowledge had been from the Candle in the first place and not just some random, made-up bullshit that had come to him in a dream or something.

Of course, now that he was having more elaborate dreams involving historical figures, maybe his view of that latter part had also changed.

Ugh.

Why did this have to be so confusing, huh? Why couldn’t more things just be magical and flawless? Sorting through all that information was already an enormous task, and now he had to factor in an extra possibility of error, too?

Hmm. Now that he was thinking about it, though, he supposed it was also possible that the Candle was right and that Grigozo was simply lying here, instead. Hector didn’t see what reason the reaper would have for doing so, especially regarding such a seemingly minor subject; but hell, maybe there was more to it, somehow.

He decided to interject into the reapers’ conversation in order to double check. “Ah--pardon me, but uh, regarding Bloodeye’s age. You said he was one hundred and seventy-six, right?”

‘Yes,’ said Grigozo, sounding abruptly uncertain.

How to handle this question...? Ah. “I happened to read on the internet that Bloodeye was only one hundred and thirty-three. Is there some reason for the discrepancy here?”

There arrived a pause, and then the reaper gave a slight laugh. ‘Are you serious?’

What? Hector made no response. He merely kept his face flat and his eyes steady.

Grigozo’s mirth seemed to dissipate. ‘Er--apologies. I would’ve thought it obvious that you should not trust publicly available information like that when it comes to highly ranked members of Abolish. Or the Vanguard, for that matter. Misinformation abounds. By design, no doubt.’

Hector could appreciate that--or the sentiment of it, at least. Previously, he’d thought that he and Garovel were more in line with the Vanguardian mission of proactively engaging the enemy, but after all they’d been through, he was starting to wonder if they might actually have more in common with the approach that Ericoros was describing.

Not that it always had to be one or the other. Context certainly made a difference, he felt.

‘At the risk of sounding like a contrarian,’ said Garovel, ‘I am not sure you can rightly say that she fosters those sentiments in ALL of her followers when we were just talking about how much of a problem Ariana was.’

‘Hmph. Yes, you are semantically correct. I should not have said all. But the broad point remains true. And I’m sure I do not even need to begin listing examples of how certain Vanguardians throughout history have not lived up to their purported ideals, either.’

‘No, you do not.’

The conversation continued on the same subject for a bit longer, with the reapers going back and forth but not really giving much ground or providing new details. Eventually, however, Garovel shifted topics with a new question, addressed to Grigozo.

‘Oh, by the way, I was meaning to ask, how old was Banda, exactly?’

‘One hundred and forty-one,’ said Grigozo. ‘Why do you ask?’

Hector’s eyes widened, and he blinked a couple times.

‘Just curious,’ said Garovel. ‘Do you know how old Bloodeye is, too?’

‘One hundred and seventy-six,’ said Grigozo.

Wait, what the fuck?

The reapers were still talking, but Hector had stopped listening. All of his thought processes were suddenly stuck on what he’d just heard.

Those ages.

Banda had been that fucking old?

But even more importantly...

Hector had thought he already knew how old Bloodeye was. One hundred and thirty-three. That was the information that he’d pulled out of the Candle. He still had no idea where the Candle had gotten that number from--and maybe he never would, either--but now that Grigozo was contradicting it...

What did this mean? Hold on. Didn’t it mean... that...?

Oh god.

It meant that the Candle wasn’t always accurate, didn’t it?

So all the information that had been fed directly into his brain by the Forge...

He had to take it all with a grain of salt now, didn’t he? It wasn’t just some kind of magically perfect reservoir of indisputable knowledge, was it?

One of his hands slowly found his forehead as his gaze sunk to the nightrock floor.

Aw, fuck, dude...

‘Even if what you say is true,’ said Garovel, ‘that does not render Sai-hee without blame, no? A leader takes responsibility for her subordinates, especially in the eyes of the public. If this Ariana was such a loose cannon, then Sai-hee can at least be faulted for not dealing with her before the situation exploded into so many lost lives.’

‘I do not mean to claim that Sai-hee is some perfect being who always makes the right decision,’ said Ericoros. ‘And your assessment is a fair one, even if there was considerably more nuance that is perhaps not worth getting into, right now. On the whole, I can certainly understand the Rainlords’ perspective in that conflict.

‘But with that being said,’ Ericoros went on, ‘the Lord Darksteel here asked about what she is like, not about what mistakes I think she may or may not have made in the past. When it comes down to it, I believe she is the best and most magnanimous of the current four emperors. But due to the other three, she is also constantly being put in impossible situations--situations, need I remind you, where she must take into account the safety of over two billion people who live under her protection.’

Garovel held up his skeletal hands defensively. ‘That’s completely fair. I’m not trying to say that she has it easy or that she could just snap her fingers and fix every problem in the world. I’m just trying to have a balanced view of things.’

‘I know that desire well,’ said Ericoros. His skeletal mouth twisted slightly and impossibly, looking a bit like a smile, which was a surprise to Hector. ‘You are trying to maintain neutrality. If anything, that makes me think that you would quite like Sai-hee, should you ever be fortunate enough to meet her.’

Garovel chortled. ‘I probably would. But then again, maybe that’s not saying much. I like most people. I’m full of love, me. Too understanding and benevolent for my own good, you know.’

Hector resisted the urge to roll his eyes, though he did smile. “Leo mentioned that she saved your hometown. Or that her people did, at least.”

‘Yes, and that is exactly what I mean when I say that she is the best of the emperors. While her goals may not be so lofty as “saving the world,” she nonetheless does more to protect innocent people than anyone else, in no small part because she fosters that same sense of stewardship and preservation in all of her followers.’

‘That is no great surprise,’ said Ericoros, which surprised Hector. The reaper rarely chimed in, deigning usually to merely listen--at least while Hector was present, that was. ‘The emperors are all in a category of their own. Fear of them permeates every side of every conflict.’

‘Even among Sai-hee’s people?’ asked Garovel.

At that, Ericoros was quiet a moment, and Hector wondered if perhaps that had been too brazen of a question for the reaper’s liking. '...Yes,' said Ericoros. 'Exceptions no doubt exist, especially among the stupid, but for a certainty, there was always a subdued level of fear within our ranks. It would be arrogant and foolish to claim otherwise.’

Garovel merely bobbed his skull in acknowledgment.

Hector had a question for Ericoros now, too, though he wasn’t holding out hope that the reaper would actually answer it. “What is Sai-hee actually like?”

As expected, the reaper made no response.

Hector tried a slightly different angle. “I ask because Leo didn’t have very nice things to say about her, but from what I understand, you don’t feel the same way. I’d be interested to hear a more detailed opinion from someone who thinks highly of her.”

Ericoros exhaled a nonexistent breath. ‘I suppose that is fair...’ He paused, perhaps to gather his thoughts. ‘Sai-hee is... she is a very complex person. And it is true that my affection for her will likely never fade. She has a deep compassion for others that is difficult to fully articulate. Perhaps if you would consider Sermung to be a fatherly protector of the world, then Sai-hee might be thought of as a more motherly one. She is kind beyond measure and treats everyone like her children.’

Hmm. Well, he’d already heard a few counterpoints to that claim of kindness, at least. He didn’t want to interject, though.

Garovel, however, apparently did not harbor the same reservations. ‘Kindness, eh? I’ve never met her myself, so I’m not saying you’re wrong, but the woman is known to have done some rather UNKIND things throughout the years. Her conflict with the Rainlords being just one example.’

‘Ah, yes, the Richland affair,’ said Ericoros. ‘That was a horrible circumstance, yes, but it was not Sai-hee’s doing. Rather, it was the fault of Ariana, who had always been impulsive and... “passionate,” as some described her. “Emotionally unstable” might have been the more apt term, in my estimation.’

‘So you don’t think Sermung is like that, then?’

‘I do not,’ said Garovel. ‘But I do think he has a very different view of the world than the rest of us. And I also think he deserves a bit of slack, too, after all he’s done for humanity. It’s easy to forget that he doesn’t ACTUALLY have an obligation to anyone or anything. It’s no individual person’s responsibility to save the entire world, nor should it be. But people constantly act like we deserve his protection and power, like he owes us, when the reality is the opposite. If anything, WE owe HIM. And in times past, people in his position have made that exceedingly clear, demanding tribute as an overlord, for example. The fact that he doesn’t try to pull that stunt makes him saintly enough, as far as I’m concerned.’

‘...Wow,’ said Hector. ‘I knew you liked Sermung, but I didn’t realize quite how much. You’re like a super fan.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve just had this conversation many times before--and often with people who were much more argumentative than you. So I’ve developed strong opinions. Especially lately.’

‘Ah...’

‘I can only imagine how difficult it is to keep a level head when you’re in a position like his. And considering how long he’s been doing it for, I’m prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he’s deciding to not get involved in this war, then he’s probably got a good reason.’

Hector hoped he was right, but he didn’t know if he shared the reaper’s point of view, either.

And at the risk of setting Garovel off again, he ended up broaching a similar subject with Grigozo and Ericoros later.

“What is Abolish’s general view of the war?” he asked. “Are they afraid of Sermung stepping in?”

‘I can only speculate what the higher ups have in mind,’ said Grigozo, ‘but I can say with relative certainty that the prevailing sense of morale has been high. Apart, perhaps, from the conflict in Melmoore. I heard that things were going quite poorly over there. But according to most reports, the men were optimistic about their chances of winning.’

Quite the difference from the Magician of Light’s assessment, Hector noted. But then, it only made sense that opposing sides would have opposing views.

‘As for Sermung himself,’ Grigozo went on, ‘there is always an underlying fear of him in everything that Abolish does. The men rarely speak of it, but it is there.’

Choosing where to go and who to help. How to allocate his limited time and power. These were becoming increasingly important things to think about, and he was starting to get the feeling that this was--in some small way--how the big, famous warriors and influential people throughout history must’ve felt.

No matter how good his intentions or how powerful he grew, there was only so much he could do at one time.

‘But that’s all the more reason why we have to keep going,’ said Garovel privately. ‘And to keep pushing, too. It’s important to remember that, no matter how crazy things might get, there are plenty of other people out there who are trying to do the same things we are. Trying to protect the world. And yeah, maybe we might not all get along or agree with one another, but ultimately, there’s still a certain level of solace to be taken in simply knowing that it’s not all on our shoulders alone.’

‘...Do you think Sermung feels that way?’ asked Hector. ‘I mean... if anyone has the weight of world on his shoulders, it has to be that guy, right?’

The reaper paused. ‘I can’t claim to know how the Crystal Titan thinks or what he ultimately believes, but I suspect it’s different from what most might expect of him.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, take this war for example. We’ve been paying close attention to the news from all over the continent, even deploying scouts to collect our own information and corroborate others’. And yet we’ve heard neither hide nor hair of Sermung’s whereabouts. Conventional wisdom would tell us that Sermung should’ve popped up by now, at least when Morgunov made his move on Sair. But no. He’s still quiet.’

Hector had to bob his head a little. ‘Yeah, I suppose that’s true... Do you think he’s... busy with something else? Or that he just, er...?’

‘...Or that he just doesn’t care?’ finished Garovel.

‘I didn’t want to put it quite like that, but... yeah. I mean, if he’s really like six hundred years old or whatever, then I guess I could understand if he’s gotten... disillusioned with keeping up the fight. I’m sure I’d be different, too, after living that long.’

‘You’ve hit on quite a popular subject throughout history,’ said Garovel. ‘And not just in regard to Sermung, either. Whenever there’s a definitive “strongest” in the world--and they’re not an evil son of a bitch--those types of questions start cropping up without fail.’

It seemed obvious, however, that these dreams were--in part, at least--the things that he’d partitioned off in his mind after his trip through the Candle. The most compelling evidence was simply that he’d never dreamt much before. The timing was too strange, otherwise. All the memories and information that the fusion forge had shown him must’ve now been manifesting themselves in this new way.

He felt like this was a good sign. A sign of progress. Perhaps this would be happening with increasing frequency as his mind continued to process everything. Or maybe a dream was even an indicator that a particular memory had completed its processing.

Weird to think of it like that. Shouldn’t he have known for sure? It was his brain, after all.

In any case, Hector’s main focus for the time being was still Grigozo and Ericoros. Now that there was no immediate threat to Warrenhold to worry about, those two captive reapers were the most pressing subjects to Hector’s mind. Plus, the castle was still mostly empty as they waited on word from abroad--in particular, from Vantalay.

From the reports he’d received, Hector was keenly aware that the situation over there was at its most tenuous. The Rainlords had been fighting for weeks now in order to find and free their brethren, and now they were on the verge of pulling it off. Only the final assault on Logden Prison was standing in their way, and Hector hoped to hear good news soon.

It was tough not to worry, of course, but these were the Rainlords. When it came down to it, he had quite a bit of faith in them. He’d witnessed their strength firsthand.

They weren’t going to let anything stand in their way.

He did wish he could’ve gone with them, though. And now that Warrenhold was seemingly safe, the temptation to fly to their aid was stronger than ever.

But until he received word that was truly dire, he intended to stay put. The Rainlords would be fine without him. Warrenhold wouldn’t. And sure, while it seemed like Bloodeye wasn’t going to launch another attack just yet, Hector didn’t think it was worth risking everything on that hypothesis.

But this was definitely an illuminating experience in its own way. Decisions like this weren’t trivial--that was for sure. And he could only imagine how many more like it he might have to make in the future.

“Whatever mighty deeds you might perform, however many people might speak your name, whatever riches you might acquire, it will all become as valuable to you as dirt before long.” The farmer wasn’t even looking at him, now. Instead, he’d grabbed a shovel by a fencepost and started digging a hole in the ground by his cobble porch. “Until you have conquered yourself, you have conquered nothing at all.”

After that, the lord was quiet. For quite a long while, in fact. He and all his men merely stood there, watching the farmer dig.

“...What is your name, farmer?” asked the lord.

The farmer, however, did not answer.

The irritation on the lord’s face was apparent. “Please, tell me. My name is Unso. I should like to know your name before you enter my service.”

“Perhaps you are hard of hearing. I serve no lord but my own.”

“You will enter my service, or I will kill you where you stand. In either case, I must know your name, for ‘twould be a shame if your tombstone had to remain blank.”

And what followed was a light so blinding and persistent that Hector thought the dream to be over. But when it finally abated, the lord named Unso had been torn asunder, head removed from his shredded shoulders. On the end of the farmer’s shovel, a reaper was skewered, smoking and dying.

The army was already scattering. Some of them had fallen to the ground and were scrambling back to their feet, though it didn’t look like the farmer had done anything to them.

Once it was over, Hector was able to continue watching the scene for a bit longer. It reminded him of his time within the Candle, the way it could manipulate visions of the past for him. He tried to do that here, to rewind or fast forward, but there was no response. The scene was merely played out, allowing him to wander about and look at things.

He tried to look at the farmer’s face in greater detail, to get a true picture of who the guy might’ve been, but it didn’t seem possible. His awareness in this place was strange. Being half-asleep was likely the issue. He felt like he couldn’t fully concentrate. Couldn’t really absorb details.

It was only after he awoke that he truly began to process what he’d seen, and even then, he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

The accompanying footage was split between three different screens, each showing giant columns of black or gray smoke filling the sky.

Young Mr. Yavan took notice as well. “Seems the world has nothing to offer but bad news, lately.”

And David kept watching. It soon became clear there were at least three eruptions currently accounted for, one each in the nations of Kavia, Melmoore, and Vantalay.

Somehow, Prince David doubted that was a coincidence.

-+-+-+-+-

Of late, Hector had been dreaming more often. Almost every time he slept, in fact. And they were quite random, too.

But very real.

On this occasion, he saw the life of a simple farmer. Or what seemed to be one, at first. A man arrived on his land. A man of terrible power and influence. A man who’d brought an army with him. Because apparently, this was not the first visitation. The leader’s subordinates had been pressuring the farmer for a while now without ever being able to make him budge.

There was fear in the army’s ranks but not in the leader.

A long discussion was had. That comprised most of the dream, in fact.

“...To speak with such insolence, do you not know of me, farmer?”

“I do not. Nor do I care.”

“I am the new lord of your lands, farmer.”

“Congratulations. But I serve no lord other than the one who lives in my heart. If it is tribute you seek, you will have to look elsewhere.”

The lord laughed mightily. “I’ve not met a man as fearless as you in a long time! Or, perhaps, is it merely ignorance that makes you speak so?! Surely not! The army at my back must make your situation quite clear, no?! Or are you blind, as well?!”

“I see your army. Make sure they don’t trample my crops.”

Another mighty laugh. “If every man under me was as fearless as you, good sir, I’d have conquered the entire world by now.”

“Mm, but would you have conquered yourself?”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“To satiate one’s hunger, only a modest meal is needed.”

“Ah... you do not know my Hunger, then. For mine never seems to end.”

“I know of that well. The Hunger you speak of. That hunger is not of this world, and therefore nothing of this world can satisfy it, other than a corrected mind. A conquered mind.”

The lord was not laughing, anymore. Instead, he was listening carefully.

The kid made another face like he didn’t understand--or didn’t want to, perhaps. “Regardless, what do you want from me? It’s obviously not nothing.”

David exhaled a curt breath. “What I want from you, Mr. Yavan, is good policy.”

“What?”

“I want the right people to be in the right places at the right time.” He paused for another swig. Damn, this place made good tea for a bar. “Sometimes, being smart is enough. Or being hard-working is enough. But other times, it’s not. Other times, someone just needs a little helping hand in order to reach their full potential. And one day, if you ever find yourself in a position where you can help others out in a similar manner, then I hope you will remember this. Because it really can make all the difference in the world.”

Carlito was silent, just staring at him.

David could no longer tell what might be going through the young man’s head. Ah well. Maybe the kid needed a moment to gather his thoughts. David’s eye drifted across the bar, landing on the television hanging in the high corner behind the bartender.

There was some kind of breaking news footage there, but it only held his gaze for a split second before Carlito grabbed his attention again.

“I see. You make it sound nice, but really, you’re not doing anything different from Intarian politicians. A favor now in exchange for a favor in the future.” There was no disgust or disappointment in the kid’s tone. He was merely stating it as if it were fact.

David bobbed his head admissively but still had to counter. “Yes and no. I do want us to be friendly in the future, of course, but strictly speaking, politicking in the manner you’re describing is... generally not advisable, in my opinion. Doing someone a favor in exchange for some vague future promise is a good way to open oneself up to being backstabbed or otherwise let down, instead. No, I wouldn’t do this for you if I didn’t genuinely wish to help you or think that you deserved it.”

The kid said something more, but David’s attention had shifted back to the news footage. And stayed there.

Because what he read on the bottom scroll made his mind lose track of what they’d been talking about.

“Multiple Major Volcanoes Erupting Across War-Torn Eloa,” it read.

“Ah.” This certainly wasn’t the first time David was hearing that about Jacobson. It was always hard to know how true such rumors truly were, though. When it came to politicians, the ability to make friends was key, and when people thought you were nice, that task usually became easier.

It also made it easier to stab people in the back, perhaps even without them realizing it.

But Carlito’s assessment carried a bit of weight to it, David felt. Perhaps it wasn’t all nonsense, after all.

“You mention that last part as if it’s not even that important to you,” said David. “Surely, after the hell you have endured under Garvey, the general disposition of your new boss should be a higher priority to you.”

At that, Carlito sat back up in his chair and eyed David for a moment. “...Eh. At the end of the day, I’d still rather work for someone who can make a real difference in the world than someone who is just nice to me.”

Heh. Yeah. This kid was definitely going to become a big name around here, one day.

Carlito slumped back down again. “Of course, ideally I could have both...”

David took a sip of his iced tea. “As it so happens, I know someone on Jacobson’s team,” he said.

Carlito’s head popped up off the table, though he didn’t say anything.

“I could put in a good word for you, if you like,” said the prince.

The kid’s eyes widened, and he blinked at him. “Y-you could? I... but I...” Then his expression rediscovered its composure. “In exchange for what, exactly?”

Prince David gave him a flat smile. “Why would it need to be in exchange for anything?”

Carlito returned a look. “Because nothing in this world is free.”

“Well, now, that’s just not true. Why, just the other day I visited the grocery store over on Nara Street, and they were giving away free samples of these lovely little fudge cakes.”

Carlito still just looked at him.

“You’re a very jaded young man, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

David smacked his lips and sipped from his drink another time. “That is something you’ll have to overcome, if you wish to make it much further in this business.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being jaded. Don’t get me wrong. It’s useful--and, in fact, necessary--to doubt people. To see through their lies or pick up on the subtext of what they might be saying. Sure. But the most important skill for a politician to have is the ability to make friends. And a lot of people will find that jaded disposition quite off-putting, if you don’t keep it close to your chest.”

“This Senator Garvey sounds like a real piece of work," Prince David was saying. “I never would’ve guessed, judging from how well he presents himself in front of cameras.”

“Yeah,” said the young man on the other side of the table, slumped forward in his chair and nursing an iced coffee against his temple while he rested his eyes. “I’ve had nightmares, you know, where all I hear is his voice, yelling at me from every direction. Oh... man... I feel like it’s going to happen again tonight, too...”

“Hence the coffee in spite of the late hour, hmm?”

“Yeah... I have to be up in a few hours, anyway, so maybe I’m better off just staying awake...”

David frowned at the poor kid. “Perhaps there is something I can do to help.”

The kid didn’t even look up at him. “That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t see how. I’ve just gotta tough it out for a few more... years, probably.” He groaned.

“You could find a different senator to work for.”

“You make it sound so easy. Without someone from the other senator’s team to vouch for me, it’s basically impossible. These jobs are hell, but that’s only because the competition for them is so fierce. Honestly, I’m lucky to be here at all. At least, that’s what they keep telling me...”

“If you could work for someone else, though, who would you pick?”

“...You mean out of anyone?”

“Mmhmm.”

The kid needed a moment to think about that, apparently. His name was Carlito Yavan, and while his current state might have seemed rather pathetic to any onlookers in this downtown bar, this young man right here was actually one of the most talented lobbyists David had ever seen. And not just when the kid was up there on the debate stage of the Congressional Hall, either.

Fortunately for Prince David, nobody else seemed to have noticed yet.

“...Well, I mean, the dream pick would obviously be Senator Jacobson. In five years’ time, he’ll be campaigning for the presidency--and probably winning, too, because both his policies and his team are rock solid. And of course, he’s a great orator, which is a huge leg up over, uh... some of his likely competition. And on top of that, I hear he’s actually a super nice guy, too, which is a bonus.”

That had bothered him, at first--especially because it hadn't been that way during his previous visits here, back in his student days. When he'd merely been a foreign princeling with an amusing quip for every occasion, the big players had been more than happy to give him the time of day. To have him entertain their guests for them. And to try and mold him, too. To impress themselves upon an impressionable young mind.

But now that he was older and an official ambassador of Atreya, they were clearly less interested in him. More wary, perhaps. It didn't help that half or more of the people he'd been familiar with had been replaced, either. What an obnoxious system of governance. How was anyone expected to get anything done when they were constantly having to build new relationships after every election? And find new funding before each one? Even now, he almost found himself reluctant to get to know some of these people, seeing as any number of them could be gone within the next three years.

In that sense, perhaps their dismissiveness towards him was warranted. Perhaps they didn't want to bother building a rapport with him, either.

But again, that had only bothered him at first. The reason it didn't bother him anymore was because he'd learned to adjust the angle of his approach. And to see the reality of things, as well.

The terrible truth of the matter was that these supposed big shots didn't know what the hell they were talking about most of the time, anyway. They were elected to look like they did. It was the people behind them--sometimes even beneath them--who were actually thinking deeply about and trying to influence political policy here in Intar. The ones writing and proofreading speeches, the ones whispering in ears between meetings, the ones cutting checks during fundraisers--those were the ones he needed to pay more careful attention to.

Optics in this country were truly a fascinating thing. Obnoxious and tedious beyond measure, but fascinating, nonetheless. Since his arrival, he’d had to learn almost an entirely new skill set in order to even begin navigating the political landscape here with any sort of success.

And to that end, being foisted upon assistants and secretaries wasn't actually so bad. These were the overlooked, the barely thought about--despite the fact that they were present for so many important conversations, silently observing and learning.

Lending these hard-working young folks a friendly ear was therefore no trouble at all.

He wanted to say something more, maybe try to clarify a point or two, but nothing felt appropriate. Truthfully, everything he’d said was already far more than he’d ever intended. Hell, maybe he should try to take something back, instead.

Bah. No. Backtracking was unbecoming of an emperor, no matter the situation. And he’d said what he meant.

At length, however, Gohvis unwrapped himself from his tail and stood up.

“There is still much I must tell you,” the boy said. “That conversation without Engomat’s presence still needs to happen. But I suppose it can wait. For now, we really should go to the others’ aid before it is too late.”

Dozer blinked at him. It took a moment to fully understand. But even after he did, he decided to remain seated in his chair. “I already told you that I have no intention of involving myself in this war.”

“Unfortunately for you, you are already involved. Sanko is here, waiting to jump in and assist me in killing you, should I have needed it.”

“Mm. Yes, I thought I sensed her presence earlier. It must be hard for her to show even this much restraint. Shall we deal with her together, then? I should quite like to be rid of her once and for all, and with your help, the deed might finally become trivial.”

“No. I have no desire to kill her.”

Dozer nearly sighed again, resorting to a frown, instead. “You are either betraying me or betraying her. Which will it be?”

“A false choice. Think what you want, but I will move in accordance with my own dictations. Not yours or anyone else’s.”

Agh. The brat.

And yet, Dozer also couldn’t help smiling a little. Maybe it wasn’t just a story they’d been telling each other. Maybe the boy really was his son, after all.

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