Victor of Tucson

Victor stood on the stone, stage-like dais and looked up at the rows of benches made from the same material. They rose in ranks up the slope of a kind of natural depression. The people of First Landing had built an outdoor amphitheater on the outskirts of their town near the foothills of a small range of mountains that helped to form the valley in which the settlement had been founded. High granite cliffs formed the stage’s backdrop and helped redirect sound to the audience. However, the runes inscribed in the magical devices at their feet pulsing with Energy made it clear that more than natural acoustics were at work.

The tiered seating wasn’t as bad as he’d feared—he figured maybe five hundred people could fit comfortably in the little amphitheater, and, upon their arrival, about a third of the benches were empty. He supposed he wasn’t too surprised. It wasn’t like he and his companions were celebrities. They were people from another community coming to answer questions and talk about things that, to him, seemed pretty mundane. He doubted he’d come to watch something similar if he were in their shoes. Their seats, comfortable wooden chairs, were arranged in a loose semi-circle in the middle of the stage, and as they sat down, Alec stood before them, back to the audience, nodding and smiling.

“Everything all right? As I explained earlier, we’ve arranged for people to ask questions and for you all to answer. If a question isn’t directed at an individual, we’ll leave it to you to decide who answers. If there’s something you don’t want to respond to—there shouldn’t be, but we can’t vet every person—feel free to pass and ask for the next question.”

“Am I to understand,” Borrius said, leaning forward, clearing his throat, “that we aren’t to deliver a prepared speech? I believe I was misinformed.” He turned to glare at Victor.

“I never said you had to prepare a speech!”

“Uh,” Alec smiled and lifted his hands, tamping down at the air as though to cool hot tempers, “I don’t see how it wouldn’t be helpful to be prepared! I’m sure many questions will touch on the topics you wrote about, Commander ap’Gandro.” He looked at a wristwatch, the first Victor had seen anyone in this world wearing, and added, “We’re actually a bit behind schedule. Will it be all right if I introduce you? Just stand up as I say your name, and when we’re done, you can all sit together. We have speaking stones embedded in the aisles, so only someone standing on one will be heard clearly—it will keep people from shouting out questions haphazardly.”

Victor nodded. “It’s fine. Go ahead.” He looked to his left, smiling at Valla, and then leaned forward a little so he could see Nia beyond her. “You’ll be great, Nia. Don’t worry.

“Thank you, Lord Victor.” She clasped her hands together and tried to smile, but her nerves made the expression look more like a grimace. Victor wasn’t worried about being overheard as they spoke—just as the audience had speaking stones to use, identical devices were on the stage before each of their chairs. Alec had explained that they had two modes, blue and yellow. If they weren’t glowing yellow, the audience wouldn’t hear their voices. Apparently, they worked to dampen sounds as much as project them. The speaking stones were about ten inches in diameter and relatively flat. To Victor, they looked more like dinner plates than stones. If he’d understood Alec correctly, all they had to do to change the stone from blue to yellow was to rest a foot upon it.

His contemplation of the sound-projecting artifacts was cut short as Alec began to speak, his voice stridently rising off the stage to cut through the murmur of the crowd, “Good people of First Landing, I welcome you all to this town hall, the first of, hopefully, many as we seek to increase our knowledge and understanding of the System-controlled universe—a universe we are new to, despite the centuries of study we and other scientists have conducted back on Earth. When we embarked on our incredibly long voyage to Tau Ceti, we couldn’t have imagined what we’d find. Every day, we learn something new about our environment, and each tidbit of precious knowledge reveals ten more mysteries.

“Some of you are frustrated with our current situation, while others are enthralled by this vast expanse of new frontiers, this great void in understanding waiting to be filled. To that end, members of the Concordia Forum have worked to bring some fascinating guest speakers before you today. They’ve given up precious time to travel here to answer your questions, and I hope you’ll all join me in welcoming them with warm hearts and open arms to First Landing. Please, before I introduce them individually, join me in giving them all a round of applause.”

Victor smiled and nodded as the audience began to clap. He looked at his companions. Nia blushed and looked down. Valla was impassive, and the old commander smiled, nodded, and soaked up the adulation. Darro had been spared the stage; he sat in the front row beside Issa, along with some other members of parliament. They’d introduced themselves when Victor’s party first arrived in the amphitheater, but he’d already forgotten their names. As the clapping died down, Alec continued to speak, “As you know, these guests come to us from the newly formed republic of The Free Marches, where they battled the undead invaders from the world of Dark Ember to win lands free from the Ridonne Empire’s influence.

“Now, as I’ve told our guests, most of the people of First Landing, especially you all who’ve shown an interest in this town hall, are well versed in the details of that conquest and invasion, so I won’t bore you by rehashing it. I’m sure there are those among you who’ve prepared questions for our guests on that topic, so there’s no sense repeating everything now. As I introduce each of them, I’ll keep things brief; we’ll have plenty of time to get to know these people over the next couple of hours.

“First, allow me to introduce Borrius ap’Gandro, a former commander in the Ridonnian Imperial Legion.” As Borrius stood and performed a half bow, Victor wondered at Alec’s use of the term Ridonnian—was that the correct phrasing? He’d never heard anyone from the Ridonne Empire label themselves as such. Borrius sat down, and Victor braced himself, but he apparently wasn’t going in order of seating. “Next, please welcome Nia, a young woman, a survivor and freedom fighter from the world of Dark Ember!” Nia hesitantly stood, glancing at Victor with a puzzled expression as the audience clapped more enthusiastically for her than Borrius.

Victor frowned, slightly annoyed by Alec’s very liberal interpretation of Nia’s situation. Freedom fighter? Clearly, he was trying to sway the public opinion about the speakers he’d gathered for them. Nia sat down, and Alec said, “Beside Nia is Lady Valla ap’Yensha, a powerful person in her own right, but also the heiress to the most influential family in the Free Marches.”

Valla stood up and, surprising Victor, stepped onto the speaking stone, clearing her throat. The audience had already grown hushed as she stood to her full stature, towering over Alec. She spread her wings slightly, and their lustrous metallic sheen as they rustled in the morning breeze was probably the source of the audience’s stupefaction. “Pardon me, Mr. Green, but I’d like to clarify one thing: Victor Sandoval is the most influential landholder in the Free Marches, not my family.” She smiled radiantly, bowed with a flourish, and sat back down, removing her foot from her speaking stone.

“Ah, thank you, Lady ap’Yensha. Your timely correction brings me to our final guest, a man many of you have already heard spoken about in parliamentary sessions—Victor Sandoval.” Victor stood up and nodded to Alec, his eyes focusing on him as he continued to speak, “Victor is a new citizen to Fanwath, just as we are—a traveler from Earth!” Despite Alec’s assurance that many of the audience members already knew about his origins, there was quite a hubbub at his proclamation. Victor could hear the murmur of conversations, could see people speaking openly to their neighbors, but the magic of the amphitheater kept the noise from impacting Alec’s introduction as he continued, “Victor was summoned to this world; he didn’t travel via spacecraft. His welcome to Fanwath was a good deal harsher than ours, even considering our troubles with the Urghat.

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“Despite that, or perhaps because of it, Victor has grown in power and prestige beyond anything we’ve accomplished here in First Landing.” He laughed at the faint sounds of outrage or disagreement coming from the muted audience. “You don’t have to take my word for it! I’ll elaborate with some facts about the man: He’s reached levels of personal power that none of us here can begin to comprehend. He’s conquered armies led by the Ridonne and traveled to another world where he rose to fame in a matter of weeks, besting champions in their arena and battling creatures larger than the shuttles you all took to board the ark ship.

“Victor Sandoval helped to lead the army that drove the invaders from Dark Ember from this world, and, as Lady ap’Yensha just assured you all, he’s now the most influential landholder in those liberated lands. Even saying all that, you don’t have to believe me! Believe the man himself, standing here ready to answer your questions about the true nature of power in this, our new reality.” Alec turned and, with the audience, began to applaud Victor. Victor might have protested if someone asked whether he enjoyed the adulation, but the truth was that he ate it up. He stood tall, teetering on the brink of canceling his Alter Self spell but managing to keep it together until Alec stopped clapping and turned back to the audience.

“Now, I’ll yield the floor to you, citizens of First Landing. You know the procedure. Form lines at the speaking stones, and we’ll allow our guests to answer you one at a time.”

Victor sat down, noticing the sour expression on Borrius’s face as he did so. “Something wrong, Borrius?”

“Oh, nothing. I’d hoped to have a chance to take the stage without you. I’ll forever be clouded by your shadow while we share it.”

“Hah,” Victor chuckled, amazed, as usual, by the man’s conceit. “Try to keep your chin up, old man. I’ll make sure you get to answer plenty of questions.”

“Old man? Hah! You know I purchased a racial upgrade from the campaign store. I’ll eat that, and the next time we meet, you’ll see what a handsome fellow I am.” Victor couldn’t tell if Borrius was being droll or serious, so he just snorted, amused either way.

“Ahem,” a woman’s voice rang out over the audience, and Victor realized the first citizen had stepped up to the speaking stone. She was a tall, thin woman with long brown braids, wearing peach-colored overalls and a long-sleeved white shirt. “I was wondering if you consider the Free Marches to be at war with the Ridonne Empire.”

Victor grinned at Borrius. “Now’s your chance!”

Borrius stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and stepped onto the speaking stone. “An excellent question! Are we at war? Not openly, no. The Ridonne, who led their legions against us as we made our way to the Untamed Marches, acted without Imperial sanction. Their armies were destroyed, and Victor, here, meted out justice most severe to the perpetrators.” He nodded, stroked his jawline, and added, “I would say that our relations are cool and that we keep a watchful eye to the north, but we are not at war.”

As Borrius bowed and took his seat, a portly, bald man stepped up to the stone. “Victor, er, Mr. Sandoval, is it true that you’re the highest-level person on Fanwath?”

Victor barked a short laugh at the man’s bluntness. He stood up and stepped a foot onto the speaking stone. As it turned yellow, he said, “That’s an interesting question. First, I’ll offer a little advice: Be careful with such a blunt question about a person’s level. In some circles, that could get you in trouble. Most people would think it’s rude, but there are those, for instance, many of the people on Zaafor, who would thrash you or, at the very least, challenge you to a duel.”

“My, uh, my apologies . . .” he began to stammer, but Victor held up a hand and continued.

“I’ll answer you, in any case. I might be the highest-level human, but I’m not sure. As for the highest-level person, I can definitively say no. There’s at least one person on this stage who’s my level. I’ve never been to Tharcray, so there might be many people there who are higher level. I hear that’s where all the old masters go to live, primarily because the colony stone there allows them to visit other, more powerful worlds. Considering some of those folks are more than four hundred years old, yeah, they might be higher level.” Victor shrugged, stepped off the stone, and sat down.

“Pardon me, sir, but if you aren’t the . . .”

“That’s your question, Gerald. Give the next person a chance,” Alec interrupted. Gerald, a bit red in the face, stepped off the stone and moved back to his seat while a thin, dark-skinned woman wearing a tie-dye blouse and pants that looked very much like blue jeans stepped forward.

“Hello, Mr. Sandoval. Since you’re standing, I have another question for you.” When Victor nodded, she continued, “I’m Andrea Belgrade, and I’ve been studying and trying to compile a list of Core types. I saw from Gerald’s question that you find invasive questions rude, but would you mind if I asked a little about your Core? I believe it will be enlightening to this assembly.”

Victor tapped his toes onto the stone and responded, “I don’t mind.”

“Thank you! From Olivia Bennet’s briefings, many of us who’ve had an interest have learned a bit about you. As Gerald indicated, one thing we learned is that you’re higher level than most or all of us here. Another is that you spoke to her in your correspondence about cultivating Energy for the advancement of your Core. Would you feel offended if I asked what type of Core you have? Your affinities?”

“Heh,” Victor didn’t have to raise his voice; the speaking stone carried his softly spoken reaction perfectly to every ear in the amphitheater. He shook his head, amused and dismayed, unsure how to proceed. Here he was, confronted with hundreds of people, and they wanted to know things that were rather intimate, things that could lead to him being harmed by his enemies. He supposed the best way to handle it was to explain. “First, I can see you all have been a little sheltered out here in the frontier. I’m surprised Olivia, at least, hasn’t spoken to you about etiquette when it comes to sharing things like affinities, levels, skills, etcetera. If she has tried to explain and you all haven’t taken her seriously, let me say that you should listen. You don’t want people in the wider world or beyond to know about your affinities.”

He wanted to pace about as he spoke, but he had to keep his foot on the stone, so he settled for stretching his neck while he gathered his thoughts. “For example, during our war against the invaders from Dark Ember, one of my enemies learned too much about my affinities and managed to entrap me. That action led to the deaths of hundreds of good people, people who were counting on me. You have to believe that there are those who will use you in any way possible to advance their agenda, whatever it might be. You should have learned something like that from your experience with ap’Gravin. Olivia told me he almost kidnapped half your population!”

The woman didn’t back down. She only nodded, holding up a hand to forestall Alec’s objection, “I understand that, Victor, but this town hall is about learning, and I think we could learn much from you. Without telling me your affinities, then, will you talk about your Core type? According to Olivia, that cat’s out of the bag, yes? This is a relevant topic, and I’ll illustrate that with a quick follow-up.” Victor suddenly realized what she was getting at. She knew his Core type and wanted to make a point about it, but sought his permission to speak openly.

“Ah, I understand. I appreciate your consideration. I have a spirit Core.” He looked around at the people sitting on the stone benches and tried to gauge their reaction. The murmuring buzz of conversation had increased, and he saw some blatantly dismissive expressions from quite a number of people. A couple of men near the upper exit actually stood and began to leave.

“Do you see the ignorant reaction some of my fellow citizens are having to your statement, Mr. Sandoval? Not a single human in First Landing has a Spirit Core, yet they were rather abundant with the so-called ‘low-affinity’ species, which, until recently, were living among us. Despite the novelty of Cores in general, our great dearth of understanding, there are those among us who believe they know enough to dismiss an entire category as inferior and less evolved. What say you?”

Victor frowned and rubbed his chin. His Quinametzin pride was annoyed, and he was toying with the idea of casting Iron Berserk and demonstrating his ‘inferiority’ to those pitiful people, especially the men who’d stood and begun to leave. He thought about canceling his Shape Self spell and letting his full aura roll out over them, crushing them into submission with his Aura of Command. Instead, he shrugged and smiled, speaking more calmly than ever, letting his deep voice rumble smoothly out to the audience, “Plenty of people have underestimated me. Plenty have thought to punish or kill me with their superior affinities, only to be ground to dust, forgotten as a footnote in the history of my conquests.”

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