The trip back to the palace was largely silent, and the wind was like the spirits of the dead in the air, howling. Nendas kept a careful distance from Ralign's group, deliberately lagging. He also noticed that Ralign had not thought to escort him there himself. Why?

Had Ralign assumed Nendas was on his side because he'd helped kill some people Ralign hated? That seemed a strange way of looking at things. Or perhaps Ralign was careless and wanted to boast of his achievements. The man never seemed to think more than one step ahead.

If he did, he might survive all this.

"...So, what happens now?" asked Rokas.

"Now, depending on how things work out, one or all of us may end up crucified," said Nendas. He had no intention of lying to his subordinates when they had the chance to duck and run. This was their chance.

"Oh, well, that's pretty bad," said Taha, brown eyes going big with concern.

"You don't seem very worried," Rokas raised an eyebrow.

"Eh, life happens, and then you die," said Taha, eyes returning to normal as she tossed a knife into the air. "There isn't an afterlife, so why worry?"

"I wish I had your confidence," mused Nendas, who knew otherwise.

Ralign and Taha were similar, after a fashion. Both seemed to act impulsively and without thinking things through. The difference was one of attachment. Taha's utter nihilism and disregard for anything of value kept her from being like Ralign. Ralign was genuinely committed to Samrasa and his cause.

Taha, however, seemed to be wholly indifferent.

Nendas wondered if she might gain such a level of devotion to him someday if they survived all this. He sincerely doubted it, even if he liked the idea. But, they came to the palace and kept their hands near their weapons. Through the halls, they were led, and finally, into the throne room.

Before them, he now sat Samrasa. To Nendas' surprise, however, he waved off the guards. A sign of trust, but one Nendas wondered at. Was he so overconfident? But then, Samrasa was wearing armor and a sword. Likely, he could call on his men soon enough.

"Well done, Nendas. All of you, well done," said Samrasa. "I must confess, I had my doubts when I heard the Priests of Elranor were leaving peacefully. I was concerned. However, Ralign has seen to that. And you've ensured the massacre has only increased our prestige.

"Even now, rumors are spreading that Elranor is a corrupting Dark Lord. One who hides behind a facade of kindness to consume his subjects. And who is to say it isn't true if everyone believes it?"

Nendas shrugged. "I have nothing to be proud of. I simply improvised a solution that I thought would save face."

"Well, you did a very good job of it," said Samrasa, smiling. "Better still, with the money from the Temple of Elranor, we will be able to equip an entire army. I've even now begun making plans for a shipment of weapons and equipment.

"The money should do a great deal to help with the coming war against Kulat."

"War?" asked Taha, looking for the whole world, shocked. She enjoyed playing parts, didn't she?

"Yes, their assassination attempt on my person cannot be tolerated," said Samrasa. "I'm told you, young Rokas, are from that land?"

"I was," said Rokas. "However, I was deemed to have too close a friendship with companions my parents did not approve of. For it, I was disinherited and cast onto the street." Nendas had already heard this.

Samrasa nodded, and something seemed to pass between them. Was Samrasa feeling genuine sympathy for Rokas? Would it actually affect his actions? Probably not. "Ah, I see. Such problems are common to lands where religious rules are.

"But you do know the lands of Kulat?"

"Yes, around my area and some others," said Rokas, adjusting a gauntlet. "I spent my early days traveling all over the region. And after I was cast out, I traveled a great deal with Taha."

"Do you think you could act as a guide to my forces?" asked Samrasa, leaning forward.

"I know the names and faces of many members of the nobility and royal court," said Rokas, now looking unsteady. So Samrasa was pressing him to turn on his people, and it was not an offer Rokas could refuse. "Much of my time was spent among them in my early days. I might be able to name those who would be more interested in a peaceful solution."

Samrasa shook his head and walked away to the center of the throne room. There, Nendas saw the image of a map showing the continent of Asia at the center. All the lands that once belonged to the Empire of Old were there. "No, that won't be necessary.

"You see, I have a dream—a dream of a reunited Tarasifian Empire. Long ago, this chaotic realm was once a place of order. This was before Safara, before even the days of Elranor. At that time, Tarasif was not ruled over by a single deity. Rather, it was ruled by a council of wise men who knew how to keep their petty squabbles out of running the Empire.

"It is my goal to see that time return."

"And how do you plan to do so?" asked Nendas.

"I have already made great strides," said Samrasa. He stepped upon the stretch of path where Tarasif had stood. "Many petty states have joined Tarasif again, knowing they cannot resist us. Now, however, the time has come to strike at Kulat. It was long the rival of Tarasif, and there was a time when once both were both centers of trade.

"Now, the two shall become one." Then he looked to Rokas with sympathy. "What happened to you was an injustice. If you serve Tarasif well, I would gladly restore you to your old titles."

"I would... greatly appreciate that," said Rokas. "However, for the present, I would prefer to remain in the service of Nendas."

So he hadn't sold him out the first chance he got. That was comforting; Taha would be less keen to leave without Rokas.

"Well, you might well do both," said Samrasa with a smile. "Now, perhaps we should discuss the matter of Ralign. Nendas, would you say that Ralign has begun to overstep his boundaries."

Nendas considered his answer, what he would like to say, and then what he ought to say. Finally, he thought it more intelligent to answer the question by saying nothing at all. "I would not presume to say what his boundaries were."

Samrasa laughed. "Very nicely spoken. You are more cunning than I took you for among the Haifa.

"But you know well what I mean. He has become increasingly violent and outrageous in his behavior. What happened recently is only one such incident, and he has become a danger to himself and others.

"I took him off the street, trained him, gave him everything." He sighed in what seemed like genuine regret. Perhaps it was; Ralign had served Samrasa for a very long time, long enough to be familiar. "Now, I fear, I must destroy him."

"What do you mean?" asked Nendas.

"Ralign has absolute faith in me. Perhaps too much," said Samrasa. "His vendetta against the religious has come to a point where he could become a danger to Tarasif. And he and many of his radicals will have to be removed."

"Is this-" began Rokas, going silent when Nendas shot him a glance. Rokas had to learn to control his emotions; they would be his undoing.

"Then what must be done?" said Nendas. Samrasa was baiting him, offering Nendas the chance at revenge on Ralign—an action that would leave Nendas in direct thrall to Samrasa.

"My armies will march to war soon," said Samrasa. "When the time comes, I want you to be near him. In war, Ralign often fights personally. I shall arrange for him to be in the worst part of the battle.

"With luck, he shall die an honorable death, and we need not discuss this any further."

This was not an offer Nendas could refuse. He did not have the power or ability at this stage to do so. Nendas now walked a path not of his determining, and he could not go back. If he were to try and break away, Samrasa would know Nendas was not in his thrall. And Samrasa's belief he had Nendas in his thrall was his only protection.

If Samrasa believed he controlled Nendas, he could play him off Munsuf. But if Nendas showed signs of disobedience, his last opportunity would be gone. No, the only way forward was to endure this enslaved people's march, to let his master think him a fool, and take him unawares later. Killing Ralign would benefit Nendas' goal. But it would not engender the loyalty Samrasa sought to instill.

Rokas looked in horror, probably not understanding any of this. "But-"

"Don't question the King, Rokas. I'm sure we're meant to make our interpretations," said Nendas quickly. How had he been taught nobility? "King Samrasa, may I inquire as to the status of my clan? I have received no word on them?"

"The Hasafa, of course, remain my loyal subjects," said Samrasa. "So long as they continue to aid Tarasif and it prospers, so will they. As for the... regrettable situation with your brand, there is nothing that can be done at the moment.

"Continue to distinguish yourself, however, and that may change."

Nendas nodded. "I would appreciate that."

"Now, if there is nothing else, I have a meeting to arrange," said Samrasa.

"There is one thing, if I may," said Taha. "What will happen to the worshippers of Elranor now?"

"Now?" asked Samrasa. "We shall use the people to pressure them into becoming one of us. I've dismantled problematic religions before. This one is only the most recent.

"We shall not directly persecute them, nor even directly demean them. Rather, we shall make it so nothing good is ever said about them. We'll network with some of the rival religions and give the temple to one of them. And we shall pressure those who would speak on their behalf to remain silent for the good of the realm.

"Over time, such actions will erode their will and allow them to be converted. And those who are not converted will at least not be willing to confront us out of shame for Surras' actions."

"You mean being murdered?" asked Taha with a wry smile.

Nendas stared at her and wondered if they'd be crucified. But to his surprise, Samrasa laughed.

"Well, murder is simply a matter of perspective and law. And I am the law incarnate as King."

"We understand, of course," said Nendas. He decided he'd have to do something to distance himself. "...I should tell you that Queen Jaha has been growing distant from the world of late. She begins to wonder if she is even needed."

And it was true; he felt it. Though not in the way Samrasa took it to mean. Jaha saw all of this, and Nendas also knew she sought retribution. For she was a Goddess of Justice as well as Peace. He wondered if Samrasa even remembered that these days.

The man did not seem to have any respect for the gods.

"The fact is noted," said Samrasa.

At that moment, a servant entered through a side door and approached the King. "Forgive me, King Samrasa. But the page you requested has arrived."

Samrasa nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you, Danas. If you'll excuse me."

Did he know the servant's name? Glancing a little away, Nendas saw a young boy, perhaps ten, in a tunic. Quickly, he bowed, and the three of them left. Coming through the door, they got to safety, and Nendas had a bad feeling about things.

It was not that Samrasa did not have a heart.

It was that he never listened to anything it had to say. He could feel sympathy, but he knew no mercy. He could be kind, but only when convenient. He regretted the terrible things that he wanted to be done. But it never stopped him from doing them again.

The page clicked in Nendas' mind, bothering him. He was missing something, and he remembered Rokas' story. And how Samrasa had seemed to feel some sort of kinship.

"...Shouldn't the page have some writing equipment?"

"Ignorance is bliss, huh, Nendas?" asked Taha with a laugh. Then she put a hand on his shoulder.

King Samrasa was a homosexual. And so was Rokas.

The pieces fell into place.

"You don't mean..." Nendas halted. That was why Rokas had been cast out. By all accounts, he had been a loyal companion. He was a touch naive but dutiful, and he was clearly skilled. With such a nature, why would any Lord throw their flesh and blood onto the street?

Because something had been wrong with the flesh, the festering arm was cut off if it could not be healed. Anger well within Nendas, but he knew not to make any scene over this. "You overstep yourself, Taha. He is the King."

"I didn't say anything," said Taha with a smirk,

"Good," said Nendas. "It's absurd anyway, not worth dwelling on. There are a dozen people being crucified outside for that very sin."

"Of course it is," said Taha.

Nendas ignored her and looked to Rokas. "Rokas, I trust all three of us to understand that we cannot afford any deviancy. Any action we take could very easily see us put on the cross.

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"Your actions reflect on me and Taha.

"We must be paragons of virtue insofar as we are capable."

"I understand," said Rokas. "I will not fail you."

"Good," said Nendas.

Then, they didn't need to discuss this any further.

Honestly, Nendas didn't even care at this point. They all might die before it became a problem. And they were going to war soon anyway.

"Taha," said Nendas. "Lead us to the apartments."

Taha nodded. "Follow me."

And on they walked.

As they did, Rokas kept looking at Nendas. Eventually, they reached the apartment, an inexpensive place Taha had checked out. It was a large, two-story building with a variety of rooms, all facing the open air. They were designed for the merchants who came in from Dinis over the river or from Kulat and even as far as Themious. Each room was clean but of bare wood, and everything but the bare minimum had to be bought.

It was a very reasonable price, especially when Nendas refused to buy anything. What? So he was supposed to pay money to make his house a pleasant place to live?

Then, Rokas spoke up. "Why did you say that, Nendas? About giving up your status as the Avatar of Jaha?"

"What else was I supposed to say?" asked Nendas, noting a city guard patrolling down a street. You could see several street cleaners at work as well.

"But you're Jaha's Avatar," said Rokas. "Surely you cannot simply discard such a bond with a deity by the authority of a king."

"It's liable to get us all killed," said Nendas. "And anyway, I have to hear her in my mind constantly. It never stops; the more I do what I have to, the worse it gets." He was making excuses now for denying her. But the act itself was valuable. It created a public perception that his devotion was wavering.

"Surely you should take that as a sign, Nendas," said Rokas.

"A sign for what?" asked Nendas, choosing to play the part. "To do what?"

There was silence.

"Nendas is right, Rokas," said Taha.

"But..." Rokas paused.

"Listen, if we stick with Samrasa, we might get back everything you two lost," said Taha. "You could become very important people. On the other hand, if we start making trouble, we're as good as dead.

"Now, no matter what we do, we need to get into King Samrasa's good graces. And you two are the key to doing that."

"We could still leave," noted Rokas.

"And go where?" asked Nendas. "To become vagabonds on the road? And leave my father unavenged? Shall I abandon my nation and the duties of my clan? And also abandon Jaha as well."

"You are trying to leave her service," said Rokas. "You might pretend otherwise, but you are."

"I should have never been given her service," said Nendas. "It was a mistake my uncle manipulated me into to get me out of the way." Except Nendas had suspected as much from the beginning, hadn't he? "I... I should never have taken this brand.

"But now I have it, and I have to get rid of it and have someone else take it."

It seemed such a long way from here.

"Focus people," said Taha. "Jaha's not real. So she's not the problem.

"The problem is you not having property rights and your father's being dead. The first question is, how can you regain your rights? Second question: how can you find out who killed your father?"

"I..." Nendas tried to reassess his plans here. "Serving Samrasa could allow me to restore my rights. As for the assassin? It was probably Samrasa or my Uncle."

"How can you say that?" asked Rokas.

"...That's pretty cynical," said Taha, seeming interested.

"The religions did not benefit from the action at all," said Nendas. "And Zeya is a Goddess of Heroes. She wouldn't strike down someone with lightning as a reward, let alone on behalf of Elranor. However, she commonly strikes down people with lightning who insult the gods."

"That doesn't exist," said Taha.

"Are you still-" Nendas calmed himself. "My point is, a layman who knows almost nothing about the Goddess Zeya might believe such a lie. Or he might believe that Elranor is the one who sent the lightning bolt. But it seems obvious to me that it was struck in response to attempting to frame a god for murder.

"So the only question is: Who benefits?"

Silence.

"So, Samrasa?" asked Taha.

"Yes," said Nendas. "Or perhaps Ralign or one of his other subordinates. However, I find it unlikely that Ralign would be capable of this kind of manipulation. Perhaps he might have hired the murderer, but he couldn't cover it up so effectively.

"Uncle isn't here; however, he is a close confidant of King Samrasa. And he stands to gain from Father's death. Father might have had enough pull to restore my status.

"My guess is that King Samrasa got Father to undertake negotiations as a pretense. One meant to get him into Tarasif. He did this on behalf of Uncle and used Ralign as his instrument. Once done, he attempted to discredit me by having me avenge myself on the Temple of Elranor. When I proved useful and adept enough to avoid the trap, he started grooming me to replace Ralign.

"Now, he is offering the false hope of a restored status while demonizing Uncle. I would guess he wants Uncle dead and replaced. Likely, he desires to shift him out for a competent alternative. Uncle is only useful for destroying his own clan and worthless for anything else.

"If Samrasa wants to salvage the Hasafa Clan, he'll need to put someone loyal in Uncle's place. Playing me against my Uncle is thus the logical tactic. Though I suspect he is keeping his options open at the moment." Assuming Samrasa was going to salvage the Husafa Clan and not just let Munsuf run it into the ground.

"So what are we going to do about this?" asked Taha.

"Nothing, for now," said Nendas.

"Nothing?" asked Rokas. "He murdered your Father!"

"I'm the Avatar of Jaha, Rokas," said Nendas. "Even if I don't want to be, I still must fulfill my obligations. I can't go on a vengeance-driven rampage because my soul is not my own. Even if I could, what am I supposed to do? Kill King Samrasa, cut down Ralign, flee the city, then kill my Uncle?"

"Yes," said Rokas.

Taha blinked. "That's pretty ruthless of you."

"He killed your Father, Nendas," said Rokas.

"So?" asked Taha. "Are you saying you wouldn't kill your father if given half a chance, Rokas? He threw you out on the street and replaced you with your younger brother."

"No, I wouldn't. I am his flesh and blood," said Rokas.

"So what?" asked Taha. "Explain to me why it's less wicked to murder a stranger who's never done you any wrong. As opposed to the parents who disinherited you for nothing? Especially since that wasn't even your fault. Killing a person is killing a person.

"It doesn't matter whether they're a man, woman, or child. In the end, we all descend from dust, and we'll return to it soon enough."

"Are you saying that you'd kill your parents if they hurt you?" asked Nendas, feeling a sense of horror.

"No," said Taha. "But they didn't get the chance. I ditched them years ago. My parents were commoners, not worth remembering. They spent their lives in desperation, chasing the favor of a Lord who could kill them on a whim. All in the hope they might make a political marriage they would never reap the benefits of.

"I was going to be married off to some guy I'd never even met to benefit some hypothetical future generation. That was my purpose for existence. The one that the 'gods' had chosen me for.

"The universe had ordained me for a life of humiliation, suffering, and subjugation. So I told it to go to hell and burned the house behind me."

"You said that you could have lived a 'good' life if you'd gone along with it," said Nendas, noting a contradiction. "You also said you had many sisters who could have taken your place. How did the universe ordain you to anything you describe?"

"Eh, maybe," said Taha. "Sometimes, I remember my life as a soul-crushing paradise. Other times as hell I was forced to escape from? Which do you prefer? I'll pick that as a backstory."

"The truth would be nice," said Nendas.

"There's no true reality, Nendas. We might as well be words on a page," said Taha. "Even if two people read the same page, they'll derive two different meanings. And then they'll forget about us just as quickly.

"You may remember your father being assassinated, but maybe you remember it wrong. Maybe he never existed, and I made you with false memory from the clay of the earth. Or perhaps the father you remember is all in your head, and he and Samrasa are the same.

"Perhaps you'll wake up tomorrow, and none of this will have happened at all.

"Memory is useless as a guide to history. It changes as much as the present and future.

"Either way, how I remember it turned out like this; I ditched town to join up with a convey of monks. I don't even remember who they were, but they were heading to Tarasif. I learned everything they had to teach me, and then I found a more interesting crowd.

"And you should be very glad I didn't, Rokas.

"If I hadn't thrown away my plow and abandoned my family, you'd have starved on the street. It wasn't like any temples were willing to accept you in all their benevolent charity. Your brother had turned you into a pariah and spread the news of that incident far and wide. If my family had treated me like yours, I'd have burned the house down on my way out. After I slit their throats."

"You'd kill your own family?" asked Rokas.

"If someone hurts you, you must hurt them back," said Taha. "That's why we're going to war with Kulat. They tried to assassinate Samrasa, and he couldn't sit idly by and let it happen. Allowing yourself to be injured without reprisal sets a precedent. One that people can walk all over you.

"Would people have invented swords if they didn't need to be used now and then?

"And anyway, who are you to talk about revenge on family members being wrong? You just said we ought to seek revenge on Nendas' Uncle?"

"...An uncle is less closely related to you than a father," said Rokas.

"That's incredibly weak, you know that, right," said Taha. "I guess you could argue his Uncle is a terrible person. But if you can justify killing an uncle, what about a sister? Or a father or mother? Or a god or goddess. Or a friend. Or even someone you don't know and aren't related to.

"You can't have it both ways, Rokas. Either all life is sacred. Or all life is worthless.

"And seeing as we're both in the business of killing for money, it'd be hypocritical to call it sacred."

"We have not worked as mercenaries before, Taha," said Rokas, concerned. "You were using your knife-throwing skills to make a profit, and I was your assistant. We were entertainers."

Taha blinked. "Oh, oh, that's right. We did show in Kulat to show off my knife skills. I'd forgotten. I remember things one way, sometimes another.

"I guess I got a bit caught up in the moment there. I kind of define myself by what is happening now. The past and future are slaves to now, after all."

"How so?" asked Nendas.

"Well, what we write down defines what people have as history. Learning from history is how the world advances," said Taha. "If you could learn to write up history to achieve what you wanted and then destroy all other histories, you'd be God. You would be able to make irrelevant all aspects of the past that were not to your liking.

"And you'd be able to determine the entire course of history after your own death. All you'd need is enough knowledge and the power to enforce your will."

"And what do you believe in?" asked Nendas. "Past all these words?"

"Me?" asked Taha. "I don't care. I could try to take over the world or become a god, but why bother? Putting down the rebellions wouldn't be worth the hassle. And I'd have to run this place. I ran away from home to escape personal responsibility.

"I guess I could try rigging history so I define all future events. But why go to the trouble, really? Even if I did write every undesirable piece of history out of existence, how would I benefit? I would still know that the past I created was false, and I'd have to live a lie my entire life. And as for the future, I'm not going to be around for the future.

"Why should I care what happens in it?"

"Then why go to all this trouble, though?" asked Nendas.

"Philosophy is fun to dabble in, but it's all fake in the end," said Taha. "It has no relevance whatsoever to what I do here and now. See, the gods aren't real; nature is all there is. Without a higher power, who determines what is right and wrong?

"We do.

"I can say that a given line of thought is more rational than another. But what do I mean by rational? If there is no underlying moral reality to adhere to, then my standard is self-imposed. The only source of legitimacy for whatever code I live by is my approval of it.

"That makes me God. My perception of reality is the only way reality can be gauged. History books and possible futures are only distractions from what is real. Me—my own actions and beliefs and thoughts, these things are real.

"And since I'm God, I determine good and evil. I can do whatever I want."

"But people would stop you," said Rokas.

"Well, obviously!" laughed Taha. "Nobody can live as if their word is the source of all moral authority. You'd be dead in a few hours, and that would disprove your godhood pretty quick. That's why religion exists; people want some outside source of structure in their life. Most people don't have time to create their own moral framework.

"It's understandable that some people want to continue buying into the lie that is the Gods. And who am I to call it wrong? There is no such thing as sin, after all, because sin is a parasite that feeds on morality. And morality is nothing more than a figment of my imagination."

"That's not true," said Nendas.

Taha paused. "Hmm?"

"Let us accept that I am god," said Nendas. "If so, then there is a sin that remains. That sin would be to act contrary to my own nature."

"How do you figure?" asked Taha.

"If I have proclaimed theft to be wrong, but I steal, then I am acting in defiance of a divine mandate," said Nendas. "My own, perhaps, but that only makes the sin worse. For I have created rules by which I judge others but refuse to be bound by them myself."

"Yes, but those rules don't really exist," said Taha. "They are just something you imagined. In bare physical terms, there is no difference between a good act and an evil one. Yes, different acts lead to different reactions.

"And maybe you could argue that there is an optimal way to create a society. But even if you did create a society of enlightened pragmatism, it doesn't really matter. Codes of conduct are based on your actions having meaning. Why is starving to death in a pile of corpses worse in any way than living a long, prosperous life?

"Is happiness the only goal in life?

"What if someone gains joy from committing horrible actions? If they live their lives slaughtering innocent people, have they lived a 'good 'life? If they enjoyed it and were happy, then they did. If someone spends their life helping others but is miserable the entire time, is that a 'bad' one?

"But it doesn't matter. Because none of us are real."

"What are you talking about?" asked Nendas. "How can you say that? You see me right here."

"Do I?" asked Taha. "Maybe you just imagine me, Nendas. Maybe this entire adventure we've been on is all a figment of imagination."

"Well," said Nendas. "I can be sure I exist."

"Oh really?" asked Taha. "Are you sure? Maybe what you think are your thoughts are someone else's thought processes. Maybe Nendas is a cipher by which the real thing that exists is observing us. And we are, in reality, all based on our perceptions.

"So what you think is you is someone else pretending to be you, so it can observe different aspects of itself. Maybe the only thing we can aspire to do, in the end, is put on a show."

"That's why you decided to join up with civilization," said Rokas, suddenly amused. "You wanted someone to discuss philosophy with."

"Where are you going with this, Taha?" asked Nendas.

"I'm not going anywhere with anything," said Taha. "Look, your father is dead. But it doesn't matter because he never existed. Reuniting with him might be as simple as the person observing through you flipping back a few pages. And that's out of your control.

"Do what you want to do, Nendas, and don't concern yourself with anyone else.

"If you think you have a moral obligation to hunt down the killer of your father, do it. If you want to destroy all religions, becoming a fanatical servant of Samrasa, go ahead. If you want to drink yourself into oblivion, that's fine too.

"Maybe you're only going to do those things because you've been preordained for them. Or you've made a choice yourself. Or you preordained them for yourself before the book even started.

"Either way, it doesn't matter at all.

"People die.

"Don't mourn them because they never existed in the first place. And neither do you."*

Nendas considered this line of argument and found it... invigorating in a hopeless sort of manner. He thought about his life and realized he'd never thought about what he wanted to do.

"I want to avenge my father and bring glory to Tarasif."

"Done, let's do that," said Taha. "Sounds fun. I've got nothing better to do."

"It doesn't matter anyway," said Nendas. "We are not doing this plan you propose, Rokas.

"Even if we succeeded at that, what would the result be? Samrasa has no heir. Tarasif would be leaderless and descend into civil war. The Hasafa Clan would disown me, and we'd probably all be executed.

"War with Kulat would come anyway, and we'd all end up dead. Our names would be black marks on history. And what would we gain out of it in the end?"

"So what will you do?" asked Rokas.

"Play along, for the moment," said Nendas. "Ralign, at least, I can gain vengeance on. Once I've restored myself to my old status... I will have options. I may be able to consider alternatives to blind obedience. For now, however, we have to lie still and play the role of obedient and easily manipulated servants."

"What does Jaha tell you to do?" asked Taha.

"Does it really matter at this point?" said Nendas. "I'm going to have to bury my father. And I don't care if he never existed, Taha. I intend to give my due to the dead."

"Do what you want," said Taha.

These discussions with Taha were... interesting. And thinking about them helped Nendas ignore the pain he felt. And the knowledge that Father was dead.

*The astute reader will realize at this point that Taha is completely insane.

Ironically, she is also correct. I am making observations about my projections of Tanith's interpretation of Taha. One that is further distorted through the lens of previous writers. Given that there are certainly inaccuracies, 'Taha' as I know her does not exist beyond the page. Such a line of thought is dangerous, however.

Where does it end? You are reading my observations of a compilation of a translation of a history textbook. One that may or may not be accurate. From this, you might conclude that you have some understanding of me.

But is that understanding even your own? Or is it something someone else has put into your mind? Maybe by reading into this book, you and I are being written by those on the page.

Existence could be defined as one's ability to influence the world. If so, the Taha portrayed here is as real as the one she was based on. Thoughts inform action, and what you read affects your thoughts.

If you want to understand a culture, learn its mythology.