Turning the knob of the door to Dawad’s cabin, Ruban paused. “If it’s not too much trouble, sir, may I ask you another question?”
“Of course. You can ask me as many questions as you want.”
“If you knew all of this information all this time, how come you never said anything about it in class? Surely, it would be a part of your subject.”
Dawad laughed, but there was an edge to it that Ruban had never heard before. “In class? Because I’d be in prison if I did, I suppose. And that if I was lucky. If not, I’d be hanged for treason.”
Ruban’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why do you think this information is not available in standard-issue textbooks, Ruban? It would be useful, don’t you think, for a Hunter to know the difference between a regular Aeriel and a vankrai? To know the specific strengths and weaknesses of each? Why do you think the only information about vankrai available on the internet are vague conspiracy theories on message-boards of dubious repute?”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, prof.”
Dawad rubbed a withered hand over his face, sighing softly. “For millennia, Aeriels coexisted peacefully, even happily with humans. They influenced our music, our art and our architecture in ways that are still an indelible part of our culture, even if we’ve forgotten the origins of most of it. They taught and learned from humans, and we returned the favour. Even after centuries of renovations and redesigning, you can see strains of Aeriel architectural aesthetics woven through the walls of the IAW headquarters.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“And when things fell apart, it wasn’t the fault of the Aeriels alone. It wasn’t an Aeriel that sought to subjugate and enslave humanity – it was a vankrai. Equal parts Aeriel and human. It wasn’t an Aeriel that was her most vicious and devoted lieutenant. Reivaa was, again, as much human as she was Aeriel. Humans, you see, bear as much responsibility for Tauheen’s misdeeds as Aeriels do.
“But that doesn’t make for a good war-narrative, does it? Not much by way of a thrilling bed-time story for the youngsters, of the victory of good over evil. Not the sort of thing you tell Hunters before you send them off to face death fighting superhuman terrorists – ‘I mean sure, they’re terrorists now, but they did help us with rice cultivation way back in the day’.”
“It’s the truth, though,” Ruban said simply.
“It is, but an inconvenient one. I was hounded out of my own country for researching Vaan and the history of the Aeriels on earth. I went beyond the conventional study material, dug deeper. My government didn’t like that.
“Ragah has a more open-minded academia, but there is a limit even to their leniency. I’m allowed to research pretty much anything I want as long as it stays within academic circles. But to stand up before a classroom full of would-be Hunters and tell them that the evil Aeriel Queen whom the Founding Fathers had overthrown had actually been half human? And that all the actual Aeriel monarchs before her had been perfectly benign figureheads who wouldn’t understand the concept of tyranny if you put them through a graduate course on it?” The old man practically shook with laughter. “If there is a quicker way to the gallows, my boy, I do not know of it.”