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Dinah of the Doldrums

The halls in the House of Vrata were tall and wide. Statues of various historical figures were impossible to ignore as whoever designed the place seemed to think that every entrance and exit needed one — even the bathrooms. Honestly, if not for them, the hallways would seem sparse and empty. Even so, maybe the walls could be decorated with some landscape paintings or something. Was that so hard to do?

Dinah was stalling, and she knew it. Another meeting between the Champions and the Councilors, Ministers, and Senators was scheduled today. Every year. And even if it wasn’t for this meeting, she still had a hundred other meetings to dread regarding “where she could contribute the most to the defense of our world,” and various “creative enterprises that could revolutionize economic growth.”

She was doomed to face these committees for the rest of her life.

And even after those meetings, she’d have to go and speak with impatient men who would feel like she was too stupid to do what they ask, or jealous women who thought she had somehow slept her way into becoming a Champion, or diplomats who tried to outwit her or taunt her in negotiations, or lawmen who would only continue asking for her to keep working until the sun came up and down again, or soldiers who needed more wards and more barriers and more seals and more and more and more…

Finding herself in front of yet another statue, she read the plaque:

Dedicated to the strongest battlemage, Zacariah Nova, for his heroic sacrifice that lead to the defeat of the powerful Lich, Qual’as Merneptah.

Dinah snorted, startling a passing pair of nobles. She stared at them until they hurried their pace and pretended to ignore her. They were wearing strange clothes, though. Maybe they had been diplomats? Dinah shrugged at no one in particular, and continued ambling down the hall.

Color splashed along the marble walls and floor as sunlight washed through the stained glass skylights above. Dinah looked up to see the image of a red haired man wielding a heron-marked sword dueling a demon wielding a quarterstaff. Unable to help herself, Dinah snorted again.

“Something funny, Lady Ukusika?” a soft tenor voice murmured behind her.

Lazily turning her head, Dinah met Caesar’s eyes, “Do these artists know how often they make dedications to you?”

With a shrug, Caesar replied, “Maybe some suspect it, but no one can confirm it.”

“I hope your next body is better looking than this one,” she said before shuffling forward once more.

Immediately matching her pace, Caesar said, “I hope our next annual meet is better than the last one.”

“Probably not,” Dinah mused before stopping in front of another statue.

There was a fierce woman, with her back clearly exposed and revealing a large glyph, wielding a winding sword. The plaque itself read:

Seeking vengeance for the death of her brother, Shae single-handedly destroyed a secret order, whose name she has erased from history, dedicated to summoning the powerful demon, Drakul.

“You’ve never been a woman, right?” Dinah reached out and touched the cold bronze metal.

“You know I actually am just myself every time, right?” Caesar insisted, “I use alteration magic to change how I look, that’s all.”

Dinah looked up at him and raised her eyebrows.

“It’s reincarnation, deedee,” he explained. “It’s always just me.”

She reached up and grabbed his chin, turning his face side to side.

He smiled but said nothing.

Caesar’s thin, black beard made a stark contrast with his pale skin. His hair was unkempt, and clearly brushed back with just his fingers. Even so, he had a strong jaw and cheekbones, so he didn’t look too boyish. His lavender eyes reflected only her face, as his gaze never left her.

She released him and scoffed, “You’ve looked better.”

“And you’re as beautiful as ever,” he smiled at her. “You went with gold studs today? I think the silver is just as striking on you.”

“Why are you bothering me again?” Dinah moseyed forward once again.

Instead of answering, he just offered her his hand. Giving him a look of suspicion, Dinah took it anyway. His grip was gentle, but firm, and he shortened his stride to match her leisurely pace.

As they walked, some more nobles and statesmen passed them by, always greeting them with a small bow of the head. Some called them Champion and Chosen; some said Lady Ukusika and Lord Constance; some thanked them for their service and saving lives.

Dinah felt most uncomfortable with that last group of people. She hated her duties. If she’d had known how much of her time— her life— would be dedicated to only serving others, then she probably would have just stayed on Nucifera.

Once again reminded of her home island, Dinah’s mood immediately sank.

“We’re almost there, deedee,” Caesar whispered as they walked through another antechamber crowded with dignitaries and diplomats. “Just be patient a little longer.”

Taking stock of the room, Dinah could tell everyone was paying attention to them. Oh, their heads were turned, and maybe some were facing away, but these people were clearly excitedly gossiping about them. Dinah could hear giggling, and tried to spot the source, but some men came up to them to thank them for their service, and blocked her view.

She scowled at them, prompting apologies from the men before they hastily withdrew.

“They’re only being polite, deedee,” Caesar said, slightly exasperated.

“I’m just an exotic treat to them. Some wilder from the jungle that’s pretending she’s civilized.” she growled. “No one here knows me or cares to know me.”

“I’m here,” he whispered.

Dinah suddenly felt her heart sink again, “I know… it’s just…”

“It’s fine,” he squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Just remember that, like me, some people here are truly grateful to see you. I know most of these people can be…”

“Dishonest,” she said. “Disingenuous. Deceitful. Duplicitous. Disgusting. Deplorable. Distasteful. Despic-”

“Tiring,” he stressed. “But that doesn’t mean what you’re doing for them is any less meaningful.”

Dinah harrumphed, “Doesn’t change the fact that a bunch of them hate me.”

“Some of them, yeah, probably. I won’t argue that,” Caesar conceded. “But you’re also a Champion, deedee. You’re a hero. You have an enormous responsibility and they can see that. You’re holding up their world on your shoulders. They’re in awe of you. When you’re already capable of— and doing— things that are completely impossible for them, or anyone they’ve ever met, then… yeah, they’re going to pay attention to you. They’re going to watch you and judge you and talk about you.

“That’s what it means to be a Champion, unfortunately. You’re gonna carry that weight.”

Dinah thought about this for a moment. Caesar continued to lead them through the crowded room. Just as they approached an egress, Dinah overheard the tail end of a conversation.

“…barbaric tribe. Imagine getting piercings like those savages.”

Dinah immediately turned to the source, spotting a tall man with a long red jacket, tailored with golden embroidery. He was speaking to two women, at most half his age, that clearly could only be enamored with his status. His jacket could do nothing to hide his receding hairline and fat stomach.

His eyes immediately locked onto hers, and he took a long drink from his chalice, tilting it all the way back. Then, as if only just noticing Dinah, he gave a curt bow and sauntered over.

Caesar immediately stepped forward, “Senator Abdul, so nice to see you’re able to join us this year.”

Frowning, the fat man said, “I was under the impression you were still in recovery, my Lord Constance.”

“I’ve brushed past death so many times that he gives me high fives when we pass,” Caesar laughed, and the people within earshot laughed with him.

Waiting a moment for relative quiet, Abdul raised an eyebrow, “My people are quite acquainted with death as well. They deliver it swiftly to all of our enemies. A shame they’ve had to learn such a thing, but I suppose that’s the way of the world when Champions can’t find time to serve their people.”

Dinah could feel the crowd watching the entire exchange. And she was right in the middle of it.

“Perhaps you should request our aid, then, Senator,” Caesar replied cheerfully. “If the troops you’ve requested from the capital are not enough to hold the waves beyond the Sluice Gate, then perhaps they are in need of more experienced leadership.”

Gesturing with his chalice, Abdul smirked, “The good people of Bahr are more than satisfied with my leadership, Lord Constance. What they find most peculiar is the exact contributions the Champions even lend to the Empire. Would you care to remind us of your duties?”

Dinah hated the pompousness with which Abdul asked the question. She squeezed Caesar’s hand twice prompting a glance. Abdul was so obviously trying to goad Caesar, but her love just smiled at her and nodded.

“We maintain peace among the Empire,” Caesar explained, “and hold back the extraplanar threats that exist beyond Amuun, just like the Prismatic Knights and armies that we train and fight alongside.”

His smile never touching his eyes, the fat man spoke up again, “Is that really necessary? There hasn’t been a Breach in close to a hundred years, and our armies only grow stronger as time passes on. The Alliance has been pulling their troops out of Dimu Skanda; enchanters have been producing inventions that improve the quality of life for men and women everywhere, while making the Empire rich in the process; stability frames for the Sluices are only getting more refined… I’d say you Champions have worked yourselves out of a job.”

A few chuckles from unseen persons echoed from around the crowd. Dinah squeezed Caesar’s hand again.

“I’d happily retire if it meant every citizen could live their lives without the fear of going hungry, as you so clearly have, Senator,” Caesar pointedly looked at Abdul’s stomach, prompting laughter from nearby onlookers.

Turning red in the face, Abdul immediately retorted, “If our citizens could die without fearing death, like you do, Caesar, then maybe we wouldn’t need to allow foreign dirt on our soil.”

With his eyebrows drawn down, Caesar curtly asked, “Do you have a problem with our immigration policies, Senator?”

“Not as long as they willingly give their lives to the Empire.” Looking directly at Dinah, Abdul continued, “But we all know that some of them are perfectly willing to drag their feet through the mud pits they came from, even if it means people die because of their procrastination. Such careless people don’t value life, and don’t deserve it— least of all, migrant squatters.”

Immediately stepping toward the man, Dinah hissed, “When a worm like you dies, no one mourns the loss.”

The room grew quiet, a few murmurs reverberating among the crowd.

“Is that a threat?” the fat man sneered, “I suppose that black dress matches the color of your heart, dirty witch. How a savage like you even qualifies to become a Champion will forever be a mystery.”

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Gasps resounded around them, and Caesar once more stepped forward, between Dinah and Abdul, “Your comments are unacceptable, Abdul. I suggest you apologize and save what little honor you have left.”

“I’m not alone in this,” the fat man raved. “I know dozens of people in this room who feel the very same. We wouldn’t have barbarians like this soiling the capital’s halls if your mother hadn’t gone over the judgment of the council! She’s unfit to rule! She should never-”

In an instant, Caesar was upon him, towering over Abdul, staring directly into his eyes. Sweat rolled off the fat man’s balding head as he slowly shrank back, averting Caesar’s gaze.

“Are you preaching sedition at the seat of the capital, Abdul?” Caesar’s voice was as calm and cold as a frozen lake.

The fat man stammered out a series of denials.

Caesar spoke again, his voice carrying throughout the stillness of the room, “You will address the Empress as ‘Her Eminence’ or ‘Her Grace.’ Or do you forget yourself, Senator?”

Once more stammering out a series of apologies, the fat man shriveled before Caesar.

“It appears to me that you are not feeling well today, Senator.” Caesar’s gaze swept through the crowd, “Does the Senator appear under the weather to anyone else?”

Almost everyone began nodding, and some in the back even yelled in affirmation.

“Well, Senator,” Caesar’s eyes locked onto Abdul’s once more, “as you have been judged by a jury of your peers, it seems you are unfit to fulfill your duties today. We’ll find someone else to better represent the city and territory of Bahr for the annual meet. Do you recognize this decision?”

Swallowing back whatever he had wanted to say, Abdul simply nodded in assent.

“Do you have the faculty of mind to find your chambers? Or should I have the guards drag you?” Caesar breathed.

With Abdul nodding his head furiously, Caesar simply gestured with one arm, and off the fat man went, scurrying faster than anyone would have thought he could move.

The room was dead quiet, as the tension still hung overhead.

Caesar clapped his hands, “A single clarification. The Empress did make a decree— but only after the Council had reached a tie in the decision due to one Councilor abstaining— as it is Her Grace’s right since the Empire’s founding. Since that decision, production and harvesting of lumber, iron, marble, and copper have risen sharply; the production and distribution of rice and wheat has also significantly increased.

“The most important resource that makes our Empire strong is not the magical inventions of the enchanters, nor the coffers full of gold, nor the fleets of our navy, nor our great works of art, nor even the power of us Champions— it is the people. It is you. Without the people, there would be no inventions to improve the quality of our lives. There would be no money to spend on such inventions or works of art. There would be no armies to keep us safe. There would be no purpose for us Champions.

“It is the people of this Empire that make it great. It is the people that bring forth every work of art and magic and miracle of life that enrich us all. The Empress knows this, as she has visited the other nations and found their lands wanting— and their people starving for opportunity. They come here, willingly, because they wish to become one of us. To work as we do. To love as we do. To die as we do to preserve our way of life.”

“I propose a toast,” a nearby glass on a servant’s platter flew into Caesar’s outstretched hand, “to the people of the Empire!”

A raucous series of cheers echoed throughout the crowd, and everyone drank.

The mood had completely reversed and people were once again speaking with one another, rubbing shoulders, and laughing. Caesar had to excuse himself from several dignitaries who rushed to speak with him.

After a moment, he was finally standing in front of her again.

She looked up at him, his lavender eyes shined with good cheer.

“How did I do?” he smiled.

Dinah snorted, “Good enough, I guess. Very patriotic. Befitting for Caesar the Capable.”

“Capable, huh?” Caesar offered his hand, and Dinah took it.

“Just a bit of alliteration,” she commented. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Hearing a compliment from Dinah of the Doldrums is a more rare and precious thing than even diamonds, so I hear,” he joked.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling, “Whatever.”

“Ah, but a smile from Lady Dinah,” Caesar met her eyes. “Well, that’s the rarest and most beautiful gem of them all.”

She just shook her head. The two of them left the antechamber, and continued down the hall. Dinah was able to relax a bit, and enjoy the relative quiet now that they were alone. She leaned her head against his shoulder. When she’d first become a Champion three years ago, Caesar was just about the only person she could stand. Well, he had been the only one patient enough to let her open up to him. Lady Sita was pretty welcoming, but her personality was a little much for Dinah. And the rest of the Champions were poor friends. Azazel might as well have had no ears and three mouths on him; ka’Kia was so mousey and quiet that she might as well not have existed; and then Sermon and Ciarlare were complete, unrepentant assholes.

Without Caesar to offset the stress of it all, Dinah would likely have…

“Okay, we’re here,” Caesar said. “We have some good news for you, I think.”

They stood in front of a mahogany door, indistinguishable from any other that lead to a guest room in the House of Vrata. As usual, there were two statues flanking the entryway, and the marble walls glistened with color that rained down through a stained glass skylight overhead. As often as Dinah had been forced to come into the House of Vrata, she didn’t recognize this area whatsoever.

“The building has some wards and sluices that make walking through the hallways actually a maze for most people,” Caesar explained. “As long as you’re with someone that the spells aren’t supposed to target, then you can go wherever you please.”

“Okay,” Dinah didn’t care much since she could probably teleport out anyway, “what’s the good news then?”

“I think she’d prefer telling you herself,” he said.

As Caesar opened the door for her, the color that rained from above suddenly became like liquid light and saturated the entire hallway with its vibrancy. There was a swaying motion all around her, as though she were swimming in the ocean. Dinah could feel mana suffusing her entire being, soaking into her. It felt harmonious, like she was floating. It was enrapturing and dizzying and glorious and confusing and muddling and nauseating. She felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Caesar was there, holding her hand as she fought to keep steady.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear,” a dark haired woman in an ornate dress rushed to her side, and held a hand to Dinah’s face.

Everything became clear again.

“What happened?” Dinah asked.

The woman— it was the Empress, how could Dinah have not realized that?— smiled warmly at her, “It’s the blessing from a goddess. Whenever I’m around most people, I have to try and hold it in, but I thought that you’d be fine with it. Are you alright now?”

“Yeah,” Dinah felt a little embarrassed, “I just wasn’t used to it. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Caesar asked, worry written on his face.

Eager to change the subject, Dinah just asked, “So, Caesar said Her Eminence had good news for me?”

“Oh, just call me Miriam, Dinah,” Miriam waved her hands as though to push away the proper form of address. “Without my husband around, my name’s just been collecting rust at this point, you might as well use it.”

Smiling back, Dinah replied, “I’d be happy to, Miriam.”

Shuffling everyone inside, Miriam then poured them all some tea. The guest room had a table in the corner for them to sit, and they made themselves comfortable. Miriam listened as they regaled her with Abdul’s foolishness.

“Honestly, I don’t understand how some of these Senators even get voted in. On paper, it seems like things are going swimmingly in every Silver City— but then the attitude some of them display, and some of the things I see when I’m there… it calls into question not just their character, but the integrity of the elections,” Miriam huffed. She gently pulled one of Dinah’s hands into her own, and said, “You know that you’re always welcome here, and can come speak with me anytime you please, dear.”

“Thank you,” Dinah said.

“Thank you, who?” Miriam tilted her head.

Laughing softly, Dinah answered, “Thank you, Miriam.”

Contentedly sighing, Miriam looked over at Caesar, “It’s so nice to hear my name after so long.”

Caesar shrugged, “Well, you’ll always be ‘mom’ to me.”

“Well,” withdrawing her hands to grab her cup of tea, Miriam continued, “there’s good news to be shared. And it has to do with your duties as Champion, Dinah.”

Dinah sat upright, now suddenly alert, “What about my duties?”

“We know that you don’t particularly enjoy having to run around everywhere, setting up wards and barriers for people, or resupplying enchantments with mana,” Miriam explained.

Immediately, her mind raced, a thousand thoughts exploding in her mind. Was this really it? Her way out? Dinah’s heart was thumping in her chest. She glanced at Caesar, and he smiled one of his warm smiles at her. She pressed her lips together, uncertain if they were really going to ask what she hoped they would. That’d be crazy, right?

It had been three years. It was only three years, but they were so miserable some days. Especially early on. She had to learn to control the Prism and cast every spell and learn how different bureaucracies worked. The looks of disgust and annoyance she would get from the people she was supposed to be helping. The homesickness. Day after day after day.

“So,” Miriam continued, “instead, you’ll be staying in the Imperial Estuary just to reinforce the main Sluice Gates.”

All her thoughts crashed into confusion before Dinah muttered, “I thought Caesar did that.”

“Honestly, it only takes about ten, maybe twelve, hours a week,” Caesar added. “That’s how I have so much time for my alter egos.”

“Yeah,” Miriam side-eyed Caesar, “we won’t get any more legendary figures like the ‘Night Angel’ skulking around and killing would-be god-kings; army commanders like the ‘Gambler’ with his ravens and foxes; powerful wizards like the ‘Great Sage’ that serve to protect the boundaries between worlds.”

“I was going to be a shapeshifting Weaver at one point,” Caesar shyly admitted, “but I couldn’t figure out how to shoot web in my human form. I figure they must just use illusions instead of shifting between spider and man.”

Dinah was still reeling from the offer, “Wait, so you’ve had all this time to play hero for literal lifetimes because you’re actually not doing any real work?”

Miriam and Caesar suddenly grew silent.

“Sorry,” Dinah was torn between feeling angry and ashamed, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but.. What the fuck, Caesar? Since you’ve known me, I’ve always voiced my doubts about being a Champion. I’ve constantly confided how stressed out I get having so many people place their expectations on me, and how people treat me so differently— not just because I’m a Champion, by the way— but because I’m a literal foreigner. And then how some men look at me, and I can’t just tell them to fuck off because it would insult them and they’re always some kind of diplomat or dignitary or a senator or… I mean, just… Why now? I just… I…”

Her frustration immediately poured out, “All that time I would be traipsing around the Empire, trying to improve relations with whatever local populace, you’d be out playing hero? While I was protecting troops that fought in the Sluices — you’re working only, what, twelve hours a week trying to perfect your newest alter ego? Widows and families that lost their sons and daughters in these battles look at me as if I alone should have prevented it if I just tried harder — meanwhile, you were diving headfirst into hell, treating it all like some vacation because death and you are good friends, right?”

Guilt was plainly writ on Caesar’s face. Miriam, however, looked substantially less so.

“All those times Caesar gave his life were necessary, Dinah,” Miriam spoke softly. “Only the Prismatic Knights and the troops stationed in the Imperial Estuary know how bad those battles were. He makes light of it to put himself and others at ease, but my son has learned the burden of leadership and loss. The truth that the people know, and the truth of what happened aren’t always the same thing. If we had put you there before things were made to settle down, it may have been you who died instead.”

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Dinah asked, “But couldn’t he just resurrect me?”

Caesar slowly shook his head, “Not at the Hadal Level. I’d have to get my hands on your body, and keep your soul from departing this world. While in Amuun, the souls are easy to retrieve because of the gods that exist here— the forces of magic. Out there, though, in the Hollow Expanse, the souls who are lost there go somewhere… else.”

Eyes downcast, Caesar whispered, “I can’t save everyone…”

“That’s why it takes him so much longer to recover,” Miriam went on. “Magic doesn’t work there for anyone except for the Champions. So, when he dies, the soldiers must retrieve the Prism and retreat. Even being as careful as we’ve been, it still resulted in his death multiple times, but the waves have been thinned out. Things are finally beginning to become stable, Dinah.”

“I’m sorry if we’ve hurt you,” Caesar said, “We would never wish to hurt you. We should’ve thought about how you’d take this more carefully. Worded what we had to say more thoughtfully. I’m sorry.”

Still stunned, and trying to wrap her head around everything they just said and everything she was feeling, Dinah just sat and thought.

It made sense. And it was basically as close as she’d ever get to finally going back to a normal life. And if she had more time, then she could visit home, and maybe even spend more time with-

“Caesar,” Dinah called, and he looked at her expectantly, his face still apologetic, “if you’re not going to be doing this, and I’m going to suddenly have all this free time, then what will you be doing anyway?”

He looked over at Miriam, and she glanced back at him before gesturing with a hand.

“Um, yeah, actually,” Caesar stuttered, “I’m going to be training the new Chosen of the Brown Prism.”

Dinah's eyes widened in shock.

“She was discovered only last night,” Miriam clarified, “it was something of a prophecy, but we were only recently able to confirm it. That is going to be announced today at the meet.”

“Okay,” Dinah was dumbfounded. “That’s… good news.”

“She’s a natural, deedee,” Caesar quickly stated. “She’s picking everything up instantly. I mean, the kid’s a prodigy. She’s able to learn and command magic faster than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“It’s because she’s Chosen,” Miriam smugly remarked. “Just like my wonderful son.”

“I know, mom, but still,” Caesar kept going, clearly excited, “she can do magic that even I didn’t know how to do that early on. I know you and pops taught me everything you could, but this girl is just on another level. She’s going to do great things. I can already tell.”

Something clicked in Dinah’s head, and she heard herself say, “What does it mean to be ‘Chosen?’ The other Champions have always thought that it was just a title given to Caesar because he was your son. But it obviously means something more, doesn’t it?”

Miriam nodded, solemnly, “The Champions are all very special people, and each of you deserve all of the respect and opportunities you’ve earned for yourselves. But you are not the true wielders of the Prisms. Those are the Chosen.”

Dinah looked at Miriam dumbfounded, “You mean I won’t always have to be a Champion?”

Miriam laughed, “Don’t get too excited, dear. We would need to find someone else we could trust with the Golden Prism. But… Yes, you are correct. You won’t be the Champion of the Golden Prism forever, if you don’t want to be.”

Dinah’s eyes lit up, and Caesar leaned toward her, “That’s why we were telling you this. You’ll just have to do this for a few more years, at most, maybe not even that much with how fast Silva is learning. And then, when she’s ready, Silva will be able to defend the Imperial Estuary, and we can focus our time on finding another Champion for the Golden Prism.”

Was it real? She would be free? No more bullshit functions and committees and leery men and stupid gossip?

She looked at Caesar, and he smiled at her and took her hand again.

“I told you it was good news,” he reassured her.

She just stared at him for a few seconds, before she heard herself say, “Marry me.”

Caesar's look of total surprise made Miriam roar with laughter.