The carriage rolled to a stop in front of a well appointed gatehouse. Ajax opened the door and stepped out. Putting his bags down then reaching into a pocket, he tossed a coin purse to the driver. “Thanks for sticking with me the whole way. We made phenomenal time from Makarett.”
The Tagne Elf caught the purse and made it disappear. “Thank you for your generous patronage, monseigneur.” He bowed his head, then flicked the reins and the carriage began moving off.
Ajax turned back towards the gatehouse and waved to the guards. While not a common sight here, he was well known and they opened the gate and waved him through. He had a bit of a walk to reach the main house, but the air had that pleasant chill of early spring and Ajax relished the exercise after nearly a week of travel.
He reached the house and gave his bags to the butler, an elderly Dragonborn, his bronze scales greying at the edges. When Ajax asked about the purpose of his visit, he was directed to follow the path behind the house heading out to the vineyards. He did so, and that’s where he found Farsan, sitting in the grass in front of three stones, too uniform in size, shape, and spacing to have been there naturally. There were no words or symbols carved into their sides, but Ajax knew what they represented. Ajax approached, not trying to be stealthy but not saying a word, and sat down beside his friend, simply showing that he was there for him.
Farsan had noticed Ajax, but made no effort to acknowledge him for a time. “I will rule in Makarett, one day.” He finally said. “But only because three of the people I cared about most in this world are gone. I would have rather had them.”
When Ajax had last been out to this exact spot, not quite a year ago, there had been only two stones. One for Dutin, the other for Angoha. “I am sorry that Rozenal was taken from you, Farsan. My understanding is that they caught the perpetrators?” Ajax asked.
Farsan was staring into the middle distance and Ajax was not sure that he had heard. “Father and I would have torn them apart with our bare hands.” Farsan nearly spat. “Grandfather had them interrogated, thoroughly, before having them executed. They are tracking down other Schism cultists with the information. My first official act as Speaker is going to be introducing legislation outlawing the Schism of Lam.” He said, fire in his voice.
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Ajax winced. “I understand where you’re coming from, but is religious persecution really what they would have wanted?” Ajax asked, tilting his head to the stones.
“They didn’t even leave us a piece of her to bury.” Farsan screamed. “We had nothing to bury for any of them.” He waved at the stones. “That thaumaturgical bomb they cooked up left nothing, just a smoking crater where Roz and the Speaker’s podium used to be. How can they continue existing, living in our country, when she doesn’t get to?”
Farsan was worked into a frenzy, and Ajax knew he had to calm his friend down. “Every single person who was involved, even tangentially, with that tragedy should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. The Schism should be broken, unable to commit another act of terrorism, but outlawing the movement itself will just lead it underground where it can fester. You will inadvertently make the situation worse if you go down that path.” Ajax said. “Believe me. I know.”
The anger faded from Farsan’s features, like a balloon deflating, until he slumped back down onto the grass, despondent. “I was never meant to be in this position. My destiny was to make wine, not rule. I’m not ready for this.” Farsan admitted.
“Your destiny is your own. There is no prophecy or being, mortal or otherwise, that can take it from you. You can either take your destiny by the horns, or be swept along at the whim of others. Now is the time to choose, Farsan.”
He looked long and hard at Ajax. They had only known each other for two and a half years, but somehow he had become his closest friend. The man who had befriended a young nobleman farmer, who had been instrumental in the refugee effort in the war, who had been the best man at his wedding last year. In just that short amount of time, Ajax had become the person who knew him best of anyone on Gomarche. If he couldn’t trust this man, who could he trust at all?
“Ok Ajax. We’ll do it your way. And Dutin’s way, and Angoha’s, and Rozenal’s. I will live up to their legacy. And if I ever stray, you have my permission to smack me around, even when I’m king, because I trust you, more than anyone else, to set me straight.” Farsan said. “Just don’t tell Milnet I said that last bit. She might get jealous.”