Trissiny was the last to arrive at breakfast—dressed casually without her armor, yawning, and with her regulation braid emitting a few uncontrolled blonde wisps.
“You look like hell, Shiny Boots,” Ruda stated.
“And good morning to you too, my dear friend and comrade Zaruda. I trust you slept well?”
“I slept at all, which is clearly not true of everybody here.”
“I got a solid four hours,” Trissiny said, interrupted by another yawn. “I just need a—oh, bless you, Yancey.”
“General,” the Butler said diffidently, sliding around her chair as smoothly as a martial artist, now that he had set a cup of strong black tea in front of her. He had only just arrived in the room seconds ago.
“Triss, I feel a nag coming on,” Toby warned.
“You see what you’ve done?” Raolo said reproachfully. “You’re making him nag. At breakfast!”
“Oh, climb down out of my hair, all of you,” she grumbled. “I will catch a nap when I can, later.”
“If you don’t get your rest, you can’t be at your best,” Toby said severely.
“It’s not like I went out dancing! We’re at war, I was working on strategy. As I hope all of you were as well.”
“Yes, but we managed to get at least six hours in,” Gabriel said. “C’mon, Triss, you gotta learn to sleep faster.”
“…what does that even mean?”
“Young lady, I expect you to take a nap at the earliest opportunity,” Toby instructed. “I will not hesitate to make a disappointed face at you.”
“You wouldn’t! Not the face!”
“Full puppy eyes, you see if I don’t.”
“Shaeine, make him stop!” Trissiny pleaded.
“Alas, there are forces in this world with which I cannot contend,” Shaeine intoned. “I dare not risk being grazed by the face, even indirectly.”
“Last time we had to go to a week of sunrise services to feel normal again,” Teal said gravely, “and that was just from a glancing hit. We’re not even Omnist!”
“Miss Juniper, this arrived for you,” Yancey said softly, presenting a cream-colored envelope sealed with old-fashioned wax.
“Oh! Um, thank you.” Nonplussed, the dryad accepted the letter and pushed aside her plate, flipping it open.
“I am sure Trissiny needn’t be lectured on the importance of sleep,” Ravana said smoothly from her customary position at the head of the table. “Soldiers of all people know how crucial it is to rest when they can, and work when they must. As she was not with us for last night’s strategy session, this gathering is the first opportunity for her to be brought up to speed.”
“Exactly,” Trissiny said with more emphasis, seemingly somewhat invigorated by her first few sips of tea. “See, Ravana gets me. I want you all to think about that, my so-called friends.”
“I am so glad I can serve as the designated villain in any situation,” Ravana said with a pleasant smile.
“Yeah,” Ruda snorted, “that’s a real mean thing everybody does at your expense which has nothing at all to do with the archetypal villain shit you’re constantly doing on purpose.”
“All right, all right,” Gabriel said soothingly, “picking on our hostess is always fun and all, but she’s got a point. Sooner we bring Trissiny up to speed, the sooner she can go back to bed until it’s time for her press conference or Justinian pulls some fresh carnage out of his hat.”
“Does the Archpope wear a hat?” Fross chimed. “Yes, yes, I recognize the colloquialism, it just prompted me to wonder.”
“There is a hat,” said Toby, “a sort of crown with a turban attached, but it’s…well, it’s the most amazingly pompous looking thing. Only about half of the Archpopes have actually worn it. Justinian never has, he likes to present himself as down-to-earth.”
“A real man of the people, when he’s not unleashing zombie dragons on them,” Teal muttered.
“You see what I mean,” Scorn said pointedly to Ravana.
“Indeed, the banter,” the Duchess murmured. “There’s a streak of Vesker in all of them. Ahem! As I was saying, we do have actual business to discuss.”
“Yes, marching orders for our press reveals,” said Trissiny. “What’d we decide?”
“Natchua is going to take point in leveling accusations of Justinian’s culpability in everything that’s happened to Veilgrad,” said Toby, his tone now all business. “Not that she’ll be exclusively on that—the whole Belosiphon thing is at the bottom of a lot of what we can lay at his feet, and needs to be spelled out first. But Natchua’s a big deal in Veilgrad now, bizarre as that twist of fate is; her word carries a lot of weight there and it’ll look very natural and logical for her to be mad about that in particular.”
“Yeah, she’s in good with the reporters out there, too,” Gabriel added, with the slightly quizzical frown he often wore when discussing Natchua. “And from what I hear, she’s got a knack for working a crowd. I’m reasonably confident that by the time she gets done, Veilgrad and most of that entire province will be firmly our territory. Both in terms of the public siding with us, and the two Duchesses out there viciously rooting out any agents or assets Justinian still has in the region.”
“I wish I could be so confident about Tiraan Province,” Ravana murmured. “I am popular here, and my network of influence has served me well, but Justinian has been working the same angles since before I took power. His own base of power is in Tiraas itself; Madouris and its surroundings will be a fight. One I do not expect or intend to lose, but one I also do not expect to be easy.”
“So, we need you to take point, Triss,” Gabriel said seriously. “Establishing that Justinian has the skull of Belosiphon is the necessary background for explaining where those necro-drakes come from. The three of us saw his forces seize it in person, but you also have those recruits in your Golden Legion who provided the firsthand accounts of his maneuvers at that time.”
“I’m up first, then,” she said grimly, tossing back the rest of her tea. “Well, good. Always better when you can get the worst part of the day over with first.”
“Public speaking not getting any easier?” Teal asked sympathetically. “Hang in there, Triss, you’d be amazed what you can learn to like with enough practice.”
“I will provide you the necessary cosmetics to conceal those circles around your eyes,” said Ravana with a sly smile, “as well as the proper instruction in their use. By a great stroke of fortune your complexion is close to identical to mine; my own personal supply should suffice.”
“Makeup?” Trissiny recoiled physically, her lip curling up in revulsion. “Ravana, I realize I haven’t spelled this out in so many words, but I’m not like Laressa; Avei didn’t call me ironically. I actually am an Avenist.”
“And this is war,” Ravana retorted. “A war of words and perception. You cannot appear before a crowd of reporters and spectators looking so haggard; we must all project strength. The options are makeup, or the necessary fae magic or alchemy to actually suppress fatigue and all its symptoms. I have practitioners on my payroll who can provide both, but such measures will interfere with your body’s ability to actually rest, and thus should only be used in an emergency. Are your aesthetic sensibilities an emergency, Trissiny?”
The Hand of Avei slumped down in her chair in a most un-military posture, scowling. “Ugh. The things I do for my goddess.”
“Face paint bothers you more than all the killing?” Scorn inquired. “Religions here are so fascinating.”
Toby cleared his throat, shooting an annoyed sidelong glance at Raolo, who was trying (but not very hard) to suppress a laughing fit. “Anyway. The other big matter that we need to pin on Justinian is Ninkabi. That one is less certain… Even with the additional perspective from Trissiny’s recruits and the Thieves’ Guild, the evidence that he was behind the hellgates remains circumstantial. It is overwhelming and compelling as circumstantial evidence can get, but…still.”
“Hence the order of attack,” Teal added, nodding. “Trissiny has to present the testimony of Khadizroth as the key acquisition which busts the whole case wide open, so to speak. Once that’s established, we’ll continue to build the story based on it. What we’re doing is crafting a narrative; things have to be set up before they can be paid off. That’s why I recommend taking today to get the Belosiphon matter out there, make it the subject of discussion.”
“Indeed,” Ravana agreed. “And once it is firmly ensconced in the public’s minds, we proceed to extruding our additional accusations out from it. First Veilgrad, and then Ninkabi, as the events proceeded themselves.”
“Is that really all we’ve got on him?” Ruda demanded, scowling. “Just off the fuckin’ top of my head, what about the Rust? They didn’t just come outta nowhere.”
“We talked about that,” Toby said, not looking much happier. “It’s…it’s really tenuous, Ruda. For what it’s worth, I think that’s super suspicious—we know Justinian has been into Infinite Order facilities and that suggests he may have had something to do with opening Fabrication Plant One and all that followed… But that’s still only suggestive and seems at least as likely to have been coincidence. Nothing the Rust were doing was related to anything happening anywhere else until the Fourth Legion spooked them into attacking preemptively. It was a Punaji internal matter that unfolded very predictably according to the politics of Puna Dara. The only outside actors we can confirm were Principia’s squad and that spooky lady with the curse who we’re all sure was Imperial even if she never actually admitted it.”
“In the course of normal politics,” Ravana said seriously, “laying the blame for all sorts of unrelated tragedies upon one’s foes is a time-honored tactic, but I feel it would be a mistake to employ that gambit against Justinian. He is an adept manipulator of rumor and public opinion; if we engage him as equals on that front, I do not believe we will win. The backing of confirmed facts is our secret weapon, and one we ought not lightly abandon.”
“So we don’t have anything else, then?” Trissiny asked, frowning as hard as Ruda. “No indication he was behind… I don’t know, Sarasio? That rogue Hand’s raid on the University? Lor’naris?”
“No, no, and probably not,” Gabriel replied.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Probably?”
“I reached out to Bishop Darling via messenger,” Ravana explained. “We are not acquainted in person, but he is an ally and I am on good terms with the Madouris chapter of the Guild; he was refreshingly forthcoming concerning our shared interests. Indeed, there are unresolved questions surrounding the Lor’naris affair, but nothing that is more than merely suggestive. Someone attempted to escalate tensions into violence by distributing firearms to the citizens of that district at the height of the trouble—an attempt which was thwarted, as I’m sure you recall, by the citizens themselves, by collecting said firearms and turning them over to the police, along with the most detailed descriptions they could furnish of the troublemakers in question. It is suggestive that no one since seems to have found any leads on said troublemakers—not the Guild or the Empire, which is…telling. Unfortunately, that gives us nothing from which to spin a story. The Church would have resources to do such a thing, but…why would they? It doesn’t seem to contribute to Justinian’s aims, apart from what Mr. Darling described as a general pattern he has of trying to cause maximum disturbance.”
“Khadizroth and Vannae talked about that, too,” Trissiny mused, sipping her second cup of tea. “Justinian’s habit of only killing off his own agents, while trying to keep as many of his opponents alive and active as possible. If I hadn’t heard that same account from multiple observers I wouldn’t believe it. It’s crazy. That is the opposite of what anyone running any kind of campaign should do.”
“Yeah, don’t need to be the paladin of the war goddess to see that,” Ruda agreed. “It’s basic common sense.”
“And a reminder we fundamentally have no idea what the hell Justinian is trying to accomplish with all this,” Gabriel added.
“It comes down to what kind of god he wants to be, right?” Juniper said suddenly.
Silence fell over the room as everyone turned to stare at her.
“Sorry, maybe that’s getting a little ahead,” the dryad continued apologetically. “I know we haven’t talked about it in so many words, but… He’s almost certainly going for godhood, right? He’s been messing with the Elder God machines that make gods and schools of magic, he’s wrangled some kind of control over the Pantheon…it all points to godhood. Right?”
“Interesting,” Ravana mused, “and…logical. Go on?”
“Right, so, remember what Elilial said at her surrender? Not that she’s exactly trustworthy, but Vesk was right there and didn’t contradict her. Gods have aspects; the way to destroy a god is to separate them from their aspect. Or, well, it’s the first step anyway, there’s no way it’s that simple. So if Justinian’s goal is his own, you know, bespoke apotheosis, and he’s been mucking around with the Elder God machinery enough to have an idea how it works, he’d definitely want to have a custom aspect. Something he’s the god of. What if he’s just trying to become the god of conflict? That would explain wanting to have everybody fighting him.”
The silence continued, marked by pensive expressions as the rest of them digested this.
“I don’t believe so,” Shaeine said finally. “Not that your insight is wrong, Juniper—in fact, I think you have hit upon the core of it. It was that aspect in particular I meant. Someone like Justinian, a maker of intricate plans, would choose an aspect on the basis of its power and security, rather than his own personality.”
“How do you mean?” Gabriel asked. “You kind of have to know what the man’s been up to for ‘conflict’ to be the word that comes to mind. He sort of radiates peace and calm in person.”
“It is as Juniper said,” Shaeine answered, “a god’s aspect and the vulnerability thereof is the key to said god’s undoing. It seems to me that there are two factors that determine a deity’s safety from such attacks. One is that the aspect itself is simply not subject to attack. For example, take the nature gods: Naiya, Naphthene, Ouvis. How would you even begin to turn their concepts against them, or induce them to act contrary to their aspects? The other, of course, is multiplicity. For further example, Izara could be made vulnerable to attack if she were made to act cruelly…or Themynra were she induced to act rashly. But to attempt the same against Avei, one would have to coerce or manipulate her into being simultaneously unjust, misogynistic, and pacifist. A circumstantially impossible task.”
“I see what you mean, love,” Teal said, nodding slowly. “Conflict… No, that’s way too easy. Too vulnerable. People are prone to conflict, but also to reconciliation, peace, and cooperation. It all depends on the individuals and the circumstances. A god with conflict as his aspect…”
“I think you’re all forgetting that there literally was one of those,” Trissiny pointed out. “Sorash was god of conquest and bloodshed, and that lasted until he got on Tellwyrn’s bad side. I think Juniper’s right about apotheosis being related to Justinian’s fundamental goal, but Shaeine is also right.” She leaned back in her chair and frowned through the steam rising from her teacup. “Hm. Ambition? Subterfuge? I can’t think of any aspect that would come from keeping everybody primed to fight him that doesn’t leave him with the same vulnerability.”
“A timely reminder that, whatever insight we gain, we are still missing too much fundamental information to truly understand our opponent’s aim,” Ravana said.
“I don’t…know,” Toby said, absently squeezing Raolo’s hand on the table. “Remember Vesk’s whole quest? The entire point of it was that… He said Justinian could very easily be the protagonist of this tale, if it was looked at from his perspective. Vesk wanted to to make us…counter-protagonists, so to speak, so he wouldn’t be locked into supporting Justinian by his own aspect. I don’t think the man is trying to do something fundamentally selfish. Whatever his goal, he’s doing what he earnestly believes is right. Something that makes all the horrible things he’s done…if not justified, then at least necessary.”
“Okay, sure, but that’s everybody,” Ruda said impatiently. “Everyone thinks they’re the protagonist of their own story.”
“Not in the Vesker sense,” Teal said, shaking her head. “Everyone thinks they’re justified in whatever they’re doing, on some level. But whatever most people are up to lacks… Let’s call it narrative weight. There’s a significance, a moral or at least philosophical importance that would be necessary for Vesk to think his own actions could be constrained by it.”
“We need more intel,” Trissiny said.
Yancey glided back into the room with his usual preternatural timing. While none of them had even noticed the Butler’s earlier departure, he entered at the perfect lull in the conversation to make himself apparent without being disruptive, proceeding directly to his mistress’s side with a folded piece of paper in hand.
“Your pardon, my Lady. A message has just arrived for you, from Archpope Justinian.”
This time, the silence was sudden and harsh, everyone turning to Ravana with eyes either wide or narrowed to slits as she accepted and unfolded the page.
“The messenger, a Holy Legionary, insisted upon delivering it to your Ladyship in person,” Yancey continued, straightening to his full height and folding his arms behind his back. “I expressed, with appropriate emphasis but all due consideration for the sanctity of a messenger’s person and the dignity of House Madouri, that the Universal Church insists upon nothing in this household. Eventually he relented, and departed.”
“Perfectly handled, Yancey, as always,” Ravana said, lowering the letter. “Well. His Holiness is hosting a gathering of, it seems, all the most powerful nobles who are able to travel to the Grand Cathedral by this afternoon. The big names from Tiraas, Madouris, and Anteraas, in essence.”
“This should go without saying, but you all know me and saying stuff,” Gabriel said. “This is a trap.”
“Well, yes,” Ravana agreed. “Clearly. The Archpope has never shown the slightest interest in the favor of the nobility—indeed, few of his predecessors have, and none since Sipasian’s antics helped launch the Enchanter Wars. I believe I am not flattering myself unduly when I suggest that my recent actions pertaining to Justinian have commanded a measure of his attention. He does not wish to be seen to acknowledge me directly, that would only lend public credence to my accusations, but very much desires to…feel me out, as it were. My noble peers will make an excellent smokescreen.”
“Hey, y’know what’d be the perfect petty revenge?” Ruda suggested brightly. “Don’t show up. Leave him stuck entertaining a bunch of hoity-toities for a few hours with nothing to show for it.”
“Now, now, Zaruda,” Ravana chided with a sly smile, “if one is to indulge in revenge, it ought never be merely petty. Don’t the Eserites have a doctrine about that, Trissiny?”
“The Eserite doctrine about taking revenge is in the vast majority of cases do not,” Trissiny shot back.
“Lemme just be racially appropriate and play demon’s advocate,” Gabriel interjected, raising a hand. “Can we afford not to take the opportunity? The three of us have had one in-person meeting with Justinian—”
“I don’t recall that having been a smashing success,” Toby said pointedly.
“Sure, not if you define ‘success’ as accomplishing anything we were trying to. But we did gain a lot of valuable insight from it. And we don’t know nearly enough about the man or what the hell he is actually trying to do. We were just discussing that.”
“I am of a mind with Gabriel on this subject,” Ravana said placidly.
“Of course you are,” Iris said in disgust. Throughout the meal, Ravana’s University roommates had been sitting in wide-eyed silence, following the discussion without interjecting, but it seemed this was a bridge too far. “Ravana, you have got to stop Ravanaing everything! The man is going to kill you!”
“Yes, that must be taken into account,” Ravana said thoughtfully.
“Well, at least she’s taking her obvious incipient murder into account,” Ruda snorted.
“To be clear,” Ravana said, “I do not believe that is what he will do. My own involvement in this affair is quite new, and it would be much more in Justinian’s character to carefully investigate a new factor than to lash out against it in blind fury. The presence of other nobility is…an assurance of safety, if an oblique one. If the Archpope attacked an aristocrat in any way, the rest of the Houses—all of them—will instantly turn on him. He will not risk that.”
“Who wants to tell her?” Trissiny demanded of the room at large. “If I do it, it’s gonna come out rude.”
“As we were just discussing,” Toby said far more gently, “turning everyone against himself seems to be a cornerstone of Justinian’s entire plan. Ravana, this is an opportunity for him to accomplish that while decisively putting a stop to your meddling in his business. Please don’t hand him a double victory!”
“Also,” Fross added, “if you get murdered, we’ll miss you.”
“Some of us will miss her,” Ruda corrected.
“Oh, don’t be a prig,” Gabriel scoffed. “We’d all miss her. Let’s face it, Ravana isn’t any more weird or difficult than anyone else at this table. We do like her, annoying habits and all.”
“I could very nearly take offense at that,” Maureen muttered into her teacup. Szith shot her a sidelong look of silent sympathy.
“You’re going to make me blush,” Ravana said serenely.
“Forgive me, Toby, but I must disagree.” Shaeine’s voice was smooth and even as always, serving to dampen the rising agitation around the table. “While it is a noted tendency of Justinian to deliberately keep his established antagonists active and in play, he has not indiscriminately antagonized the world at large. Indeed, much of his subterfuge—including notably this gambit with Angelus Knights and necro-drakes—has been aimed at creating mystery and confusion, to prevent universal opposition to him from rising up. Whatever his power, it is unlikely he can withstand a united attack from every or even most of the powerful factions arrayed throughout the Empire.”
“Precisely,” Ravana said, lifting her teacup toward Shaeine in acknowledgment. “What it comes down to is this: the risk should be taken if it can be managed. Obviously I will bring Yancey and the customary honor guard to the event. I am uncertain, however, that a Butler and two soldiers will suffice for my protection should our assessment prove incorrect and the Archpope attempt physical harm.”
“Just the Butler, practically speaking,” Ruda pointed out. “I know how noble parties go, to my eternal fuckin’ annoyance. You can’t just take your bodyguards with you to circulate amongst your peers.”
“And I was not invited to bring a plus one,” Ravana continued, “but it would be surprising if one were turned away, should I do so regardless. In fact, that will serve as a perfect litmus test: if the Church refuses to allow me the company of another protector, I will take that as a sign the risk is too great and immediately leave.”
“Okay, but that leaves the question of who else is going to risk whatever surprises he might spring,” Teal said. “I know a lot of us are pretty heavy-hitters, but… The way the trio described him manhandling three paladins? I’m not sure Vadrieny could do that.”
“Can I come?”
Everyone turned to stare at Juniper again. She shrugged, lifting her own recently-opened letter.
“I got an invitation too, from Glory, so… I’ll be going to Tiraas anyway. That’s perfect, Ravana, you can come with me after the Chruch thing; I bet you and Glory would hit it off.”
“Goddess preserve me, they really would,” Trissiny muttered.
“It’s like the old joke,” Juniper continued. “Where does a dryad sleep?” She smiled around the table at the various confounded expressions aimed at her. “Everyone there will either want to take me to bed or be afraid of what I might do if provoked. Or both. I’ll just smile real big, jiggle my boobs a bit and mention how odd it is that humans taste so much like pig. Nobody will try to stop me from doing whatever I want. And not even Justinian wants to risk my mother having a temper tantrum in the middle of Tiraas.”
“June, you don’t have Naiya’s protection!” Toby exclaimed.
“Sure, I know that,” she shrugged. “He doesn’t.”
“I do believe,” Ravana said slowly, “that is…perfect. Indeed, Juniper, I shall be absolutely delighted to have your company—as will all my peers, I am certain. I’m afraid I must decline your very kind offer in return, however; I fear I shall not be able to join you in visiting Ms. Sharvineh. I never dared hope that Justinian would place me under his authority, before an audience of my fellow nobility. I know precisely how to capitalize on this. With the assurance of Juniper’s protection, it becomes an opportunity I simply cannot afford to miss.”
Gabriel sighed heavily and slumped down in his chair. “I knew it. You’re gonna Ravana this, aren’t you.”
The Duchess smiled a vulpine smile and demurely sipped her tea. “I am going to Ravana this harder than I ever have yet.”