“I’m goint to kill myself,” said Orivaughn Medeah, slumped forwards onto his desk.
“S-sir?” A young Adstrani guard asked warily.
“Let me get this straight,” Orivaughn said, sitting upright and rubbing his face, “Not only did someone escape our carefully orchestrated operation, but did so in the most ridiculous way possible, and we have no idea where she is, or whether or not she’s even alive?”
“Y-yes sir, the ritualist assigned to review the, erm, disrupted diagram has here his official report,” The guard said, nervously handing over a sheaf of papers. “That has all the details, but he talked about how the disruption was so sudden and random that, ah, the captive could have ended up anywhere.”
Orivaughn accepted the papers and immediately began leafing through them, muttering as he read. “No sign of destructive breakdown… replication of error possible but time consuming… 4 weeks? No, no no… Guaranteed location…” He trailed off, his murmur too faint to be heard.
“Shall I tell the ritualist to commence the investigation?”
Orivaughn looked up, already having forgotten the presence of the guard. Being the governor of Ade, he was constantly being surveilled and watched by his guards. There were two other guards stationed in that very room, and he had long ago learned to ignore their presence.
“What? Oh, Myriad Gods no. Total waste of time.”
“Forgive me, sir, but I thought all of the captives were, um, central figures to political dissent?” The guard stammered.
“Good gods, man, get a grip on yourself. Who’s your captain? I need to give him a reminder to discipline his men better.”
“Captain Quintus, sir.”
Orivaughn jotted down a note, then folded it and stamped it, handing it off to one of the two side guards, who took it and left wordlessly.
“Where was I? Oh, right- Waste of time. She wasn’t any of the ringleaders, merely a figure who was enabling some of their gatherings. If she’s out of the way, possibly a hundred miles out to sea, then she’s as good as dead- As you will be if you don’t lose the stammer before me. Now go.”
“Yes sir!” The guard bowed and left promptly.
“But still,” Orivaughn muttered to himself, “Loose ends stress me out to no end.”
“Are you sighing in there?” Came a playful voice.
A lithe figure sauntered in from the side entrance, almost dancing as they weaved through the curtains. Contrasting Orivaugn’s stiff formal wear, their figure was covered in layers of colorful silks, waving about as they walked into Orivaughn’s office, tail swishing from side to side.
“Ketta, darling!” Orvaughn greeted as he got up to embrace with a kiss. “Not that your presence isn’t delightfully welcome, what are you doing here? I thought you were out for the day?”
“Well, I was,” Ketta said with their sing-song voice, “I heard that you were having some trouble with one of the people you were disposing of. The pharmacist?”
“Please, don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I’m doing something wrong. I’m just trying to keep order in the city. Also, who did you hear that from? You shouldn’t be hearing about that,” Orivaughn asked.
“Guard Davis, under Captain Quintus. I thought you’d ask,” Ketta replied with a wink.
“Him again? Gods, what a disgrace.” Orivaughn sat back down at his desk, his tail instinctively curling up behind him. Ketta immediately picked up on the signal of stress and walked up behind him, rubbing his shoulders. Orivaughn made a sound of satisfaction, relaxing as they went through the oft-practiced motions.
“Ori,” Ketta murmured into Orivaughn’s ear.
“Mmhm?” He responded, dreamily.
“That pharmacy… It doesn’t have an owner now. You’ll need to assign it a new owner, right?”
“Mmmhm.”
“I know you normally auction it to the highest bidder, but… I have someone in particular who ought to get the place,” Ketta said, a careful tone sewn into every word.
“Mmmhm, sure, sure,” He said, not noticing or not caring how Ketta was navigating him, “Just… Get the clerk to give you the papers and do them, I’ll give them the stamp… Ooooh, yes, there…”
Orivaughn slumped as Ketta’s massage continued, letting out incriminating sounds. The remaining guard in the corner struggled to keep a straight face and placid tail as the highest ranking official purred mere feet away. The reverie lasted for several minutes, Ketta cooing sweet nothings int Orivaughn's ear. It was broken rather suddenly when a guard came running into the office. Orivaughn immediately snapped upright without even a moment’s hesitation. In a moment, he went from a puddle of a man to proper ruler of the city, all with a change of posture.
“Sir!”
“Report.”
“A mob has formed at the palace gates! They’re demanding for your presence. The palace guard is holding them off for now. The Captain has advised for your evacuation. I’m here to escort you, sir.”
Orivaughn said nothing, at first. He only hesitated a moment, which hung in the air with thick potency. Orivaughn’s expression gave away nothing, held steady at the guard.
“Who is the captain on duty today?” Orivaughn asked, already knowing the answer to the question.
“Captain Quintus, sir.”
Orivaughn’s gaze tightened on the guard, making them feel like a mouse before a lion. Orivaughn got up, making a slight gesture towards Ketta.
“No, I’ll handle this personally. Ketta, with me. You know what to do. As for you,” He said, looking at the guard, “Accompany me. Take no action unless I explicitly order you to.”
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Both guards barked acknowledgement, and followed Orivaughn.
Orivaughn walked through the halls of the governor’s palace with determination and intent. He had grown up inside the vast estate, and knew the layout well. His stride was strong and quick, every footfall speaking to his mastery of this place. Servants and staff stood to the sides as he passed them, their faces filled with fear not for the displeased masses outside, but for fear of their master as he passed them. His displeasure was legendary, and everyone knew what getting in his way meant. Many had scars that ached as he passed.
The exterior of the palace was filled with gardens, taking up eight times as much space as the palace proper, with walls surrounding the entire estate. Maintaining a garden in the desert was difficult, yet the Medeahs found it within their powers to persuade life to grow by bribing it with imported soils and fertilizers, as well as unrestricted access to the precious waters of the river by way of a channel that had been dug. The canal that zigzagged through the estate grounds let the gardens bloom with delicate leaves and flowers, in contrast with the practical vegetation that lived in the scrublands outside the walls.
The evening light was giving way to evening, casting golden rays over the colorful gardens. Another light bloomed at the gates, villagers lighting torches in anticipation of the coming darkness. The unruly mob was loudly voicing their displeasures at a line of guards, who tried to keep a small perimeter around the gate clear. The palace did not have many guards relative to its enormous size, and what it did have was gathered here. Thirty men stood shoulder to shoulder.
Behind the line was Captain Quintus, one of two captains stationed at the palace. He was a portly man who held himself in impeccable posture, barking orders and directing guards. He was giving his all into making sure the line didn’t fall into disarray in the face of an angry mass of citizens many times their number. He knew he didn’t have enough men to hold the crowd at bay indefinitely, and the city garrison was far away. He had already sent one of the servants discreetly to send word, and he employed every tactic to stall and buy time that he had learned over his thirty year career.
The guards were being pushed towards the gate by the undulating crowd. Quintus knew that they couldn’t hold much longer, and hoped that the governor would take his advice. An angry mob storming the palace would be bad, but with the garrison’s help, they could clean them out and restore order. Losing the governor, however, would be catastrophic.
The surprise on the captain’s face was mirrored by the crowd going still as the palace gates opened and out strolled Governor Orivaughn Medeah. His ornate formalwear stood out in the dimming light, stones that had been sewn in glittered in the golden light.
“It’s HIM!” Someone in the crowd shouted as the mob writhed with renewed vigor.
For a moment, the scenario seemed the same. The citizens pushed against the exhausted line of guards, but when Orivaughn spoke, the scene changed.
“Silence!” Orivaughn ordered. “You demanded my presence, here I am! Now I demand your Silence!”
The last word cut through the tension, and all sound disappeared, save for the gentle groan of footfalls as people fidgeted.
“Look at this mess. How disorganized,” Orivaughn spat, “Who represents you?”
A moment's confusion took over the crowd until one man spoke up.
“We don’t have any representatives. You killed ‘em all!”
Orivaughn tutted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I try to keep things civil, and I haven’t had anyone killed in months. The last person was found guilty of treason. So unless he was your representative, I don’t know what you mean.” A wicked smile crept across Orivaughn’s face. He meant to keep a stony face, but he thrilled in moments of tension. It boiled his blood, and made him feel alive in a way that nothing else did.
“Bullshit!” The same man in the crowd shouted back. “More than two score of decent people all go missing overnight, and you expect us to believe that?”
The crowd shouted agreement with the man.
“There were a few imprisonments, yes,” Orivaugh conceded, “But every person was linked to plots to assassinate me or sow malcontent in the citizens. Petty criminals, not the ‘decent people’ you speak of.”
The crowd screamed invective.
“You can just make up whatever charges you want, you sick bastard!”
“We’re forced to live in squalor while you live in excess!”
"You’ve ruined communities over your useless pride!”
Orivaughn shook his head at the crowd, regarding the livid people as little more than a nuisance.
“Ade exists by the grace of the myriad gods, and we, the Medeahs, have been granted divine providence to guide you. Never forget that it was Miracle Milo Medeah that gave us this river to live by, and it was Miracle Titania Medeah who gave us crops that grow in plenty along the river banks, and Miracle Paron Medeah who saved us from destruction, and more than I can recount with my breath! Yet you come here, ungrateful and greedy, and demand we do more?” Orivaughn spat on the ground. “You disgust me! Yet I am merciful, and I will forgive you if you only prostrate yourselves and pledge your fealty once more.”
The crowd was unsure how to proceed. While none had come to submit, some people were growing afraid of the man who stood unflinchingly against the masses. Others became incensed, and a small group became distinct.
“You give us myths and legends and claim all the credit for them!” A man shouted. The same man that had spoken up from the crowd. A small space was cleared around him and a handful of others- his compatriots- as people either banded with him or stepped away.
"You say your blood carries divine power, yet you give us nothing! Our children starve while you feast every night, never wanting for more! We harvest surplus year after year yet we get starvation rations!” The man turned to the crowd to continue. “Its just like River’s Bounty has said for years! Nothing will change and you will starve until there is change! And there is only one path to change!”
The man and his group pushed into the line of guards so suddenly and with so much impetus that the six people broke through. They all brandished weapons, knives, blades, a hidden shortspear, and continued their charge at Orivaughn. Orivaughn stood there, flanked by two guards and Ketta, who made no motion as the charging threat loomed.
Orivaughn lifted his hand to point at them as they were ten feet away. His tail swayed with delight as he uttered the simple command, “Die.”
A moment later they all crumpled to the ground, spasming and twitching horribly as something in their brains malfunctioned. They emitted sounds of pain and agony as their control over their own bodies slipped away, and everything within them failed. Panic filled their eyes only momentarily, before they went dim and glassy.
Everything stood still.
The guards stared at the spectacle, forgetting their duty, while the citizens stood mouths agape. Ketta looked like they might either break into a sob, or vomit.
Orivaughn took several steps forward, stepping onto the pile of corpses to elevate himself head and shoulders above the crowd.
“Am I not merciful?” He intoned.
The crowd shivered.
“AM I NOT MERCIFUL?” He repeated with force.
One by one, guard and citizen alike, everyone dropped down onto the ground in a deep bow.
“And whom do you serve?” Orivaughn demanded.
“Medeah,” Came the repeated murmured answer. “Medeah. Medeah. Medeah.”
Orivaughn’s smile spread from ear to ear.
“I am merciful, and we are great! We want you to prosper and flourish, and so, I shall let you all go. Go, live, and spread the word of my mercy with gratitude and thanks. It is only those who stand against our lives and prosperity that are punished. Those who support peace and order shall be rewarded. By my grace, go now.”
Orivaughn turned with a flourish, and headed toward the palace gates. Passing Captain Quintus, he placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder as he stood to attention.
“You have failed me today,” Was all Orivaughn said before ripping the captain’s badge off. “You too may have my mercy and live.”
As Orivaughn Medeah went back into the palace grounds, the traumatized crowd slowly turned and began to make their way back to town. In their wake followed former captain Quintus.