Orenda sipped the coffee in an attempt to prolong it as she marched toward the huge room she had included in her new plans for the castle after it had been destroyed the first time. Klin had said that she had no need for sleep now, not with the soul of a god burning brightly in the place her heart once was, but she did not believe him. She still grew weary, grew hungry, grew thirsty- felt all the things he had told her she would no longer feel.
Mary Sue was somehow not as tired as she was; Orenda believed that she had inherited vices from her father that allowed her to gain energy from a white powder, but it was none of her business and so she said nothing to the human woman marching beside her. Two more Brigaddons, Mary Sue’s siblings, Sonny and Bunni, had been left to continue the efforts with the collapsed tower, because Orenda needed Mary Sue with her to address the nobility. Mary Sue was, effectively, her second-in-command, the one who knew all the things one needed to know to productively run an empire, who had helped her write new laws and new codes for them. Klin followed behind and slightly to the left of them, officially in his capacity as a bodyguard, but more realistically because Orenda would never let him out of her sight if she could help it. He knew this and seemed more than willing to play by the rules, though she had not come close to trusting him.
He was scratching at his arms so forcefully that had he not been wearing layers of clothing, he would have surely torn the skin and brought blood to the surface. Orenda had not noticed when he started doing this, but she hated it.
“It’s one of ‘em in there what keeps sending these assassins,” Mary Sue said as the trio stopped before a large wooden door, “You know that, right?”
“Might be more than one,” Klin mumbled.
“This was far worse than any of the others,” Orenda said, “This one… brought down the house. The entire wing. People are dead. We have to do something. I have to do something.”
“Let’s just get through this,” Mary Sue said, “Don’t let ‘em see that they shook you.”
“I’m not shaken,” Orenda said, hoping the insult she felt carried in her voice, “I’m angry!”
“You know what it is?” Klin asked in his quiet, unassuming voice, “It’s… it’s the way it all went down. Xandra had this thing goin where everybody thought she was immortal; thought she couldn’t be killed. So folks quit tryin. But you come in, outta that storm, and killed her deader’n hell, and then you went out in front’a everybody and was all like, ‘I killed her deader’n hell, come an’ look at the corpse’. An’ when ya do somethin like that, it reminds everybody that anythin’ what lives can be killed- they just gotta figure out how to do it. You don’t want that thought in people’s heads. What you oughta do- if you care what I think- is make it clear that you ain’t out here to hurt nobody else. You gotta make ‘em like ya.”
“I don’t particularly care if the nobility likes me,” Orenda said, “I can’t imagine I ever will. The entire nobility will eventually be phased out.”
“Yeah, they don’t… don’t cotton to that…” Klin murmured, “That made ‘em real mad…”
“Lots’a stuff got ‘em real mad,” Mary Sue said, though she did not seem to be saying it in agreement, “We gonna have some growin pains. Let’s just get through this.”
Klin stepped forward and pulled the door open.
“Announcing,” a human servant on the other side of the door proclaimed, “Her imperial majesty; Empress Orenda Nochdifache Firefist!”
The large room was completely filled with benches, built in a gradual upward slope. These were sectioned in twane by a decorative green rope, dividing the upper portion, the nobility, from the lower portion, the guild system representing, in theory, the more common people. Orenda was not shocked to see how elven the people behind those benches were, was not surprised to see that their demographics had narrowed further to be primarily earth elves. She was the only fire elf in the room, and she walked with her head held high, a head above the earth elves, to take her seat in front of them, her seat behind the most impressive, largest desk, the seat at the head of the proceedings, the seat of a queen.
An earth elven woman, the royal songwriter and scribe named Sarya had already been seated there, in front of a seemingly endless supply of ink and parchment, and her smile widened when she saw Orenda.
After Orenda had taken her seat, Mary Sue stood to her right and Klin took his place to the left, still slightly behind them.
Orenda had had to remind him to change clothes. Only an hour before the meeting he had still been digging through the rubble in his bloodstained nightshirt. Orenda constantly had to remind him to be mindful of his public appearance, but she was in constant amazement at how little the Urilians noticed, how little they paid attention to the world around them.
She looked out over the sea of faces which were so similar it was off putting. Most of the nobility were related, she reminded herself- related to Xandra. They all shared the same hair texture and color, the same lean, angular face, and wore the same deep green color so that they could have been dolls made on an assembly line. The sheer sameness of them unnerved her.
But Tolith had been related to Xandra, and he had eventually understood the world to be what it was. This is the world; there is no other.
“Welcome, distinguished guests,” Orenda said, “from all corners of our fine kingdom, to the first meeting of parliament in this, year one of the Reign of Nochdifache Firefist. I understand that we all find ourselves in a time of great change. Such is life. We must adjust to this new world as it comes, and for my introduction, I would like to remind you that the future is happening around us- and if you are not part of that future, feel free to get out of the way. The door is open.”
Klin fisted one hand over his heart and the other in the small of his back, closed his eyes, and resisted the urge to shake his head.
“My first order of duty is to name my successor,” Orenda continued, “something that seems to be a rather pressing issue. I understand that there are some people who are… rather unhappy with the new leadership. As I have no heirs, barring any that I may have in the future, my throne shall go to my dear friend and Knight of Order, Mary Sue Brigaddon in the event of my untimely death.”
“Howdy!” Mary Sue said, and Orenda noticed that many of the scribes behind many of the desks stopped their frantic scribbling to stare in incomprehension, as many of their employers had done.
However, one man, sitting behind a desk with a plaque that proclaimed him to be the duke of the Agricultural District, took to his feet, clapped, and proclaimed, “Hell yeah! Hometown pride!”
“Sit down, Lorry!” A woman next to him, apparently the duchess of the Seaweed District hissed.
“Fuck you!” the duke proclaimed.
“Write that down!” Mary Sue insisted to Sarya, who giggled in agreement.
“Lorsan, sit down!” Another man demanded, from across the room, who had a similar plate decreeing that he was the Duke of the Sage Lake district, “If your daddy was still alive-”
“If my daddy’d survived that attack Ida took him out myself,” Lorsan shouted, “Y’all just mad on accounta ya lost! The queen is dead! Long live the queen! ‘Ey, your majesty can I do new business, too?”
“The crown recognizes the Duke of the Agricultural District,” Orenda proclaimed in what she felt was a rather queenly manner.
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“I wanna name my successor, too!” the duke said, “I also ain’t got no youngun’s-”
“Not for lack a’ tryin,” A woman from the guild section interrupted.
“Yeah, not for lack a’ tryin,” the duke continued, “But it don’t look like it’s in the cards no time soon. So I’m namin’ my scribe an’ dear friend, James OfAgalon!”
He reached behind him and offered a hand to a human man, who took it and stood, though his face was so stoic and expressed so little emotion Orenda felt an overwhelming urge to speak to him. There was something in his face that told her he had a story she needed to know.
“Excellent,” she said, “Welcome, Mr. OfAgalon. Do you wish to keep that name? I’m told many humans are changing them.”
“I don’t care,” James said with as little emotion as he held on his face.
“Very well,” Orenda said.
“Objection!” the duke of the Sage Lake District shouted, “Have we all lost our minds? You can’t name successors that are gonna die before their progenerators. That ain’t… that don’t make a lick ‘a sense!”
“Objection to the objection!” Lorsan shouted back, “You didn’t do the readin and therefore nothin you say matters- on account’a I damn well can under these new laws. And it ain’t gonna matter much longer noways. Your Majesty- are we gonna discuss these whole big ass packets we all got? ‘Cause I reckon more than half a parlament ain’t read em!”
“I have a series of notes I would like to bring up,” the duke of the Sage Lake Province argued, “Your Majesty, if we make the adjustments these documents call for, it will have dire consequences for the people of the Sage Lake Province. We’ve taken a poll and my citizens are overwhelmingly opposed to the vast majority of these new laws. You can’t uproot an entire legal system overnight-”
“Oh?” Orenda asked, “Is that the case? I can’t imagine it is. I’m an immortal ruler with the powers of a god. I rule by divine right. I was under the impression I could do whatever I like. Let me check. Mary Sue, darling- do I have the power to rewrite the code of law and expect that it will be followed by my citizens?”
“Even under the old laws of the Uril family you could do that,” Mary Sue said, “I mean, folks could challenge it- Right by Combat, Divine Right, Birthright; all that, but you could absolutely do it.”
“Well, love,” Orenda said, “I’ve checked and it seems I can uproot the entire legal system and have it replaced, overnight. If you’d like to challenge me, you are, of course, free to do so- I’ll allow it under the old system you loved so much. If you wish to hurry to your grave, don’t let me stop you- you will bleed when you die like your dear cousin Xandra.”
Klin placed a hand on Orenda’s shoulder, and for a moment she was confused when he did not immediately pull away in pain; she tended to run as hot as a cookstove when her emotions ran high. But almost as quickly as she had the thought, the confusion was resolved as she remembered the strange, floating voices of a certain pair of weapons.
No harm may come to our vessels.
He squeezed and she turned to look at him.
“Can… can I have a drink?” he begged, “I… Your Majesty please they… they hate us…”
“Yo, hey, can we start saying ‘burn’ when somebody just absolutely verbally destroys somebody like that?” Lorsan asked, “Because of the fire queen? I’m doing it. I’m making it a thing that we do.”
“Lorsan, sit down!” The duke of the Sage Lake district commanded, “I mean it! We got ourselves some real issues to talk about! Quit carrying on like-”
“Your parents was here, wouldn’t they?” Lorsan said, “That first night? The night the castle collapsed? That’s the only reason you’re here, ain’t it? So technically, the Knights a’ Order give you this job.”
“Sit down!” He shouted, “Sit your ass down, Lorry, I swear to the good god Thesis above! You’re pushin!”
“You talkin about ‘I’m gonna outlive my successor ‘cause I choose a human’- bitch, I might not make it outta this room! Look around! Everybody hates me! And some a y’all get… I was gonna say ‘stabby’ but ain’t nobody in this room with the spine to come at me yourself! All y’all a bunch a’ spineless worms. Ain’t none a y’all gonna stab nobody.”
“I would like some order!” Orenda said, raising her voice, but not in a scream. She simply spoke loudly- had always spoken rather loudly after a childhood on an assembly line around large noisy machines- and it often sufficed to simply raise her voice without irritating her throat, “I will not allow the room to be taken by madness and personal insults.”
“They brought up my dead daddy first!” Lorsan argued, “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander!”
“I would like to address any actual concerns,” Orenda said, “Not on a personal scale because unlike Xandra I am not your relative, and I am certainly not your mother. I am not here to settle personal disputes-”
“Permission to speak your majesty?” A man rose from the back of the room and Orenda had to admit she was impressed by his girth. He was, perhaps, the only member of the earth elven nobility she had ever thought to look as well fed as she knew they all were. The plate in front of him proclaimed that he was the duke of the Northern Mountain Province- Orenda was positive she had heard the dangerous, rocky cliffside called colloquially: The Mountains of Death.
“The crown recognizes the duke of the Mountains of Death-” Orenda said, then her eyes widened and she corrected herself, “I mean- I am so sorry- the Northern Mountains Province.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, that is part of your job,” The duke of the Northern Mountains Province said as if he was explaining something to a child, “to settle disputes among the nobility, just like we settle disputes among our citizens-”
“Yeah, both your citizens always seem real pissed off,” Lorsan giggled.
“Not anymore,” Orenda explained, “I’m sure that was in the paperwork we sent you. We’re establishing a formal court system to be made up of judges. From a pool of learned citizens the people shall select a handful to act as judges who shall collect a salary for this service from the local government of the district.”
“Your majesty, permission to speak,” the duchess of the Seaweed district asked, and the constant repetition grated on Orenda’s nerves.
“I am declaring a new rule by… royal decree,” Orenda announced, “No one else ask for permission to speak in this meeting. I would rather have the caucoughany than have to hear that phrase again.”
“Alright, Your Majesty- on the subject of the new economic system-”
“It’s a capital idea,” Orenda said, “So we’re calling it ‘capitalism’. Mary Sue came up with that one. It’s going to completely replace feudalism. It’s practically what we had in the Fire Continent anyway, except it shan’t be allowed to run rampant here. When I was a child, I told myself, based on the advice of a very dear friend, that when I became queen, there would be no workhouses.”
“It’s gonna destroy us,” the duchess said, turned to the human behind her and handed him a stack of papers, “Take them to the Empress.” she turned her attention back to Orenda and continued, “Your majesty, we done gone and lost our underlying workforce and ain’t got no replacement. Abolition shoulda been a gradual process. We’re hemorrhaging money; we can’t afford to pay the crown the taxes that’s been imposed upon us for every good and service. We simply can’t. We ain’t got it. You’re trying to squeeze blood from a stone.”
“Getting blood from a stone is how I got this job,” Orenda mused as she took the folder with a, “Thank you,” but as she read over it she began to see that the duchess may be telling the truth. Her poorly named district depended almost entirely on fishing to stay afloat with a small boost in income from tourism around the times of the various festivals- prior to the human emancipation, the vast majority of that work had been done using slave labor.
“I would like to hear more on this from the merchant’s guild,” Orenda said, “Mrs Agalon, have you seen these numbers?”
“Yes, your majesty, of course,” a woman from the lower section said, “And, I gotta admit that they don’t look that good. Here, you wanna see ‘em?” She picked up another cluster of documents and approached the desk to hand them to Orenda, who opened them and began to read.
“This is… rather bleak,” Orenda said, “But I do have a question about all this. What is the relevance? Are you asking me to put a price on life? Because I shan’t. But what I shall do is put a price on labor- it was outlined in my report I sent to you all. The late Xaxac Brigaddon was helpful enough to do all the calculations before his untimely death. This should not be a problem- not to this scale. If you can’t afford to pay your employees a living wage, you can’t afford to be in business.”
“Yo, that motherfucker!” Lorsan pointed to the duke of the Sage Lake District, “Is already tryin to skirt these laws. He’s been payin his slaves- sorry, his ‘employees’, the wages outlined in them new laws but then chargin ‘em ridiculous rents to live on his land, still in the slave quarters!”
“No I haven’t!” The duke argued, “That’s a ridiculous accusation!”
“Bitch, I’m fuckin the head of the merchant’s guild! I know all your shady shit!” Lorsan declared.
“He is and he does,” Mrs Agalon agreed.
Klin’s hand tightened on Orenda’s shoulder, and she was sure he could feel the heat radiating off of her, even if it didn’t cause him pain.
“Honestly,” she snarled at him, “Do you think I wouldn’t rather be drunk myself?”
“I can’t… I don’t… do… they’re gettin on my last nerve…” Klin whispered and added, though likely not to Orenda, but as if it was a soothing chant, “Stay down, stay down, stay down…”
“Fine!” Orenda snapped, “We’ll take a short recess for refreshments, and to allow me to look over these figures, then we’ll reconvene!”