Chapter 4
> The documentation of the time in the Midlands is very much uniform. Almost every state used the system of the Sleeping Serpent of Eternity: Serpentine Years (SY). The first year marked the reawakening of the deity, while each year afterwards had twelve months. Each month had thirty days, and each day had twenty-four hours.
>
> There was an attempt to change the system. The scholars of the Li dynasty sought to reform the dating system to reflect the rule of each Emperor, though such a system was too unnecessarily cumbersome. More importantly, the SY system was well established at all levels of society. Not to mention, the Cult of the Sleeping Serpent was one of the few things that united the continent and beyond. Thus, while the top officials might use the new system, local officials and common people did not, which eventually led to the abandonment of the project.
An Examination of the Sleeping Serpent,
Procured by the Imperial Archives in 1300 SY.
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The tree swallowed them. No better description existed.
They could not see, but they were guided by the occasional tingling of the tree. They waded through the tree as if they were swimming through a marshy swamp. Tendrils of wood, or what felt like tendrils, moved around and touched their bodies. Their power, body, and soul, all were checked as a safety procedure. As if anyone else could reach this hallowed place. If anyone did, they would not be even slightly deterred by this procedure.
Mere formalities. Sometimes, he felt like getting rid of every and all similarly redundant practices.
Maybe that was partly why others succeeded while he spectacularly failed.
They drifted listlessly for what felt like hours. His mind clearly knew that was not the case, but that rarely mattered. Not these days, at least.
The two of them popped out of the wall, one sprawling, one standing upright with all the propriety in the world. It was not hard to tell who was who.
By the time Elzorath turned his sprawl into a proper bow, his companion had virtually disappeared. Similar to how Oro-Das was the shadow of the Emperor, Eronlutz was considered the Shadow of his grandfather. The man’s presence had become muted, but he was certainly still inside this room… if it could even be called a room.
The place he was in was roughly the shape of a sphere. The “walls” were thickly intertwined branches; the place was like a ball of yarn. Thin lines of grey pierced through the wall and converged in the middle, where a little figure sat. The lines wrapped themselves around his little skull, like an abominable turban.
The person was a husk, barely a person. All skin and bones, with the height of a ten-year-old child. His skin was dark like a rotten apple, while his skin was more parched than a dried longan fruit. His arms were twigs; perhaps that was fitting since his body had long become part of this tree. The tree branches had melded onto his skin, joining with the tattoo that all Ironwood bore with pride.
The only parts that could be considered remotely healthy were his mouth and his eyes. The latter was a bit of a stretch, really. Once, like all Ironwoods, those eyes had carried molten gold, the colour of vibrant vitality and unfettered creativity. Now, there was nothing but white. A sickly, murky white, with grey needle-like tendrils streaming out like long streams of tears.
His grandfather had seen better days, that was for sure. That was what he was told, anyway. He would not know. From birth, this was how his grandfather had been. From birth, he had never seen the old man move outside of this cramped space.
The man had sacrificed everything for the prosperity of the Empire. One must lead by example: he wanted others to sacrifice to further the greater good, to join hands in the solidarity of purpose, and prioritize the Empire and its people above anything else, including themselves. He was not the first to think such, but he was likely the first to go to such extremes.
Elzo-Rath said with the utmost respect; respect that was drawn from the very depths of his heart. “This humble grandson greets Your Grace.”
His grandfather said nothing; he simply stared. His blank eyes were evaluating Elzo-Rath. Yet, for all their blankness, Elzo-Rath could not hold his gaze. He could not bear the intensity that somehow existed within. His head ducked down, looking at the grey floor.
Coward. No spine… no guts… where did his courage all go?
He swiftly crushed those thoughts.
He could almost hear the mocking laughter of his shattered ego.
There was a shadow of a smile on his grandfather’s face. He briefly wondered if the man could read minds. It was not the first time he considered this.
Oro-Das tutted, before speaking, “Do you know why I had Lutz lead you around?”
Seeing his head shaking, the old man continued, “To remind you. I wondered if you had forgotten everything we stand for. Everything we have sacrificed for.”
“I have not,” he muttered, “if I could, I would. But I could no-”
“But you act as if you’ve had. Have I not taught you this a thousand times” only once “that if words are weighted in silver, action is weighted in gold? At least, that is the case when a person has an honest mouth, unlike you. You like to espouse the values of compassion and sympathy, or you act like such. You see the loss of lives, and you squirm, quiver, and run. You might say little, but your eyes hold hints of defiance. That desire to change things, to make things “better”, to make things “right” and “fair”.”
“So? What if I do? These kids, and not just the royals, do they not deserve better? They did not get a choice, they did not get a childhood, and they did not get a family. If nothing else, shouldn’t the last part be enough, for you to think twice?”
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“Do not assume things. Do you think you are the first to have brought this up? Do you think you are the first to have thought about such matters, to have cried out in righteous fury at me, for creating this system, and then at the heavens, for allowing it? And do you seriously think that I have not thought of this, first when I came up with the idea, and later on over the years of running this project. However, the costs outweigh the benefits; the lives and happiness of the few are worth less than the million citizens of our Empire. You were not there in the last civil war, not like myself, so you did not see what had happened. It is far too easy to forget what had happened, to then seek to change the system based solely on your ignorance.”
He stopped, his eyes seemingly reminiscing about past glories and past pains.
“You think yourself a saint, a man of compassion and sympathy because you felt your heart tightened after seeing a few little acts of atrocities on your campaigns and in these death camps. The former victims are not our people – you must remember that. The latter victims are indeed part of our Empire – some of its most vital parts. But these sacrifices had brought prosperity to the realm and had allowed the people to bask in the riches and glory of our successes. People like you start questioning the system and try to pick it apart because you know nothing. Actually, that is not correct. You do not know enough to be a wise person, but you know more than enough to be a fool. To go thinking yourself wise. To judge others based on your faulty standards. To think yourself better. How can you be better, if you even consider risking the lives of seventeen million people over the fate of a few thousand? I have personally chosen the lives of a few over the many, and when the results met me face to face, I was ashamed.”
“I do not think so. I only think the system could be made…”
“More tolerant? More forgiving? Better? As I said before, sheer arrogance. There is a power to sacrifice. There are reasons to sacrifice. Unpleasant as it may be, this is what we have. Regardless, you cannot change it right now, not without more power and further understanding. Once you have attained those and if you still remain firm in your resolve, you can try to convince me again. Through words or force. But I have a feeling your resolve won’t stay the same.”
His grandfather’s aura brushed against its own, seeping into the cracks of his half-shattered aura. He gritted his teeth, doing his best to suppress his shame. The man retreated, seemingly satisfied with what he had seen.
“I had given you those six months, given you breathing room in hopes that you would change for the better. Instead, you came back, worse for wear. What did you think slaughtering those worthless cretins would do? I suppose that was better than drinking and whoring your life away, unlike your little brother.”
His face twitched, but he stayed silent.
“Anyway, let’s get to the main matter at hand. You’ll be joining the ranks of my old friend, or nemesis if that’s what you want to call him. A traitor you might become, but it’s all for the greater good. Your honour and reputation might become tarnished, but as long as your heart remains true, you will always be one of this Empire’s finest. Anyway, you would find refuge within his camps quite easily, though raising through the ranks might prove a tall task. However, as long as you fix yourself and return on the right track, you will find yourself promoted quickly. Maybe you will get to prove yourself along the southern Frontier, against those barbarians.”
“Why would he even bother with me… even if I raise through the ranks, maybe I’ll get at most the command of a thousand men. Or perhaps I become some sort of trophy.”
“That man prides himself on seeing things as they are in the present. He believes himself a provider of second chances and greater opportunities. We have sent defectors over before, though they could not do what is needed. Also, I believe that he will find it hilarious that one of my kin would abandon me in favour of him. The man loves talent, and he loves bringing out the talents in others even more. He sees himself as a great prospector, finding hidden gems that other men, such as myself, had ignored. In some ways, we are admittedly quite similar. Regardless, I have a feeling his love for talent and his hatred of me will make him willing to use you. Also, he is undoubtedly one of the most arrogant individuals on this earth, the dragons included. Maybe you two will hit it off.” Orodas chuckled at the thought, “He thinks that he can recruit everyone with his charisma, that he can disregard any attempt at subterfuge through his strength, and that he can see through a person’s intentions with his intellect. You must prove him wrong.”
Elzo-Rath wanted to say no, to refuse the demand completely. But he could not bring himself to do so. Did not dare to do so. Maybe it would be a blessing in disguise, a new opportunity to rediscover oneself.
Self-justification and rationalization.
Disgust rose within him.
Elzo-Rath said, “I will do as you say, and will seek to advance your goals to the best of my abilities.” He hesitated, before adding. A last touch of defiance, as some would say. The last cry of a dying man. “But, the best of my abilities likely are not enough.”
“That is for me to decide.”
About as expected. “I think you know why most of your sons are dead. Maybe you shall again outlive your grandsons.”
“That probably won’t be the case.” He drily said, “There are many, and I am, in fact, dying. You can go now. Three months. Do what you can with that. The preparations are in their final steps, after which you can leave.”
He blankly nodded. Some part of him still held out hope. That part had been lost, and all that was left… was bitterness.
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“Was it a good idea to be so… direct?”
“Probably not. I could have tried something in those last 6 months, but I did not. However, I try to be frank with my own blood. I suggest you do the same, lest you regret it later.”
Eronlutz nodded. Silence reigned.
“If I have one thing against you, that would be your disdain for unnecessary words. It is not necessarily a bad thing, but it is something worth considering. This position of mind does require a fair bit of talking. You have to add a lot of flavour and spice to what you say. That’s the sort of thing people like to hear, whether or not they are aware of its worthlessness. It’s the role of a leader, so you won’t escape it even if you were not my successor. Competence comes with responsibility.”
“Yes. You’ve said as such.”
“And I’ll repeat it however many times I wish. Accommodate this rambling old man; after all, it won’t be too long before I die.”
Orodas chuckled. The other man was not amused. Sighing, the Duke continued, “You might find it wise to find someone to act as your voice. Thankfully planning stuff does not require eloquence. Either way, enough of this. Go to the Northeast. Our armies have finally breached the Third Pass. Pass my praises to my grandson. More importantly, fetch our newest worthy prince. The first of many, I hope.”
Eron-Lutz made a silent departure. In the past, Oro-Das enjoyed this habit, this “quirk”. Now, as his hands became drier than tree bark, he could not help but feel despondent. Lonely, some would say. Far too sentimental.
He might be connected to all corners of the Empire, but that was that. It came at a heavy cost. A sacrifice he had willingly made; if he went back, he would still make the same decision a thousand times over.
Still, he felt tired. Oh, so, so tired.
Age was getting to him, it would appear. Not surprising, though most tended to forget that even he was just a dying old man. He could not blame them, since he too often forgot this.
Orodas wondered if he should have given Elzorath more time. If another approach would have been preferable. Perhaps he could still be straightened out in these last three months, at the hands of a competent woman and a difficult situation. Though, there was a slight possibility the boy might lose his life before reaching home…
Regardless, time was limited, life continued, and work needed to be done. Whatever happened, the Empire’s prosperity was worth any and all sacrifices.