That statement was absolutely crushing. After all, they were racial purists, trying to cling to what they believed was the One True Way of the Elvar, finding a way out of the miserable path that Amourae had sent their whole species spiraling down. That the Ruk would not recognize them meant that this path was not that of their ancestors.
“There are many, many obstacles to your people reclaiming your mantle in the Light, not the least of which is the fact that so many of you are Falling from it, and seem to be quite satisfied with doing so.” I flicked up that spread of Greying again, let them all look at themselves, and the slow dark seeping into their souls.
“You need exposure to the Light. There are only two places in the Galaxy you can get it, at this point.” I made a gesture at King Rargyle. “The Ruk have a large number of Sapphire among them, far more than they did in the ancient days... but they still aspire to the Silver. It is merely... difficult, in a world as dangerous as the one they dwell in.”
King Rargle lifted his gauntlet, opened it, and closed it under those thousands of watching eyes.
The halberd that materialized was twice his height, made of pure psionic energy, and such solid silver it looked real. A whole lot of Elvar could only hiss looking upon it.
This was a King of the Ruk... just like in the ancient tales. Nobility wasn’t just a byword of the Kings Under the Mountains, it was THE Word.
“The other source is the Corunsuns and I.” I waved my golden mindclaw. “I can say without equivocation that we are the single largest organization of souls following the Light and aware of it in the galaxy.”
There was some derisive disbelief, that faded away with my toothed smile. My ears were ornamental, not sizable, and I wasn’t an Elvar. Eight canines wasn’t like them, either.
“You seem to have forgotten that being Good doesn’t mean being nice. Tough love is most definitely a thing. The biggest thing those who follow the Light have is more tolerance for idiots. But when it’s time to move... well, the Good don’t do it off the cuff or automatically, like some of you lot that have already shuffled yourself down the road. We think things through, we regret... and then we give it our all.
“When fighting is the last thing you want to do... it means there’s nothing else to do but fight. No more diplomacy, negotiation, taking it, enduring it, eating it, hoping for it. No, there’s only the fight.
“Everything you have now came from the fact you were a race that stood in the Light. And now... you are finding it very, very hard to stay there, because you are not the people you once were.”
Whether they liked it or not, I was drawing them in. I had the Ranks, the Skills, and the Feats. I totally could dominate the vast majority of them right off the bat.
“In light of the ancient and grand history of the Elvar, I am willing to take something of a risk for myself and my people.” I turned slowly to regard them all, my eyes flicking over every single one of them... and they could feel it. I literally had memorized all their faces.
“I believe that the results of that study and the corroboration with the Ruk’s histories is true. If you seek a path back to the Light, I am willing to help those Elvar who want that way to find it.”
The furor that arose was still subdued. Regardless of their disbelief, it was still an offer of goodwill. Naturally enough, the naysayers went looking for all sorts of ulterior motives and suspicious things I could do.
“If you are wondering about psychic corruption... take a chill pill,” I said witheringly. “For a hundred thousand years you worked alongside all kinds of alien races without Greying. If anything, it only kept you stronger in The Light. It is when you withdrew from that contact... that your people began to decline.”
That brutal truth hit them in the teeth, and I ignored the flurry of responses as I continued.
“As for power and influence in the affairs of the Elvar, turning you into some servant race...” I just held up my golden claw. “Go shit yourselves. I have no such motivations. Save those for the asshole in your mirrors who isn’t Gold.
“And what do I get out of this?” I went on, unperturbed at their agitation. “I get the Elvar of old. The great race of Light renowned across the galaxy for their ability to bring hope and inspiration to uncounted races.
“I want that race of Elvar back!” I snarled at them. “The whole galaxy wants them back! The Ruk want them back! The Warp... does NOT want them back! And your Fallen kin no doubt think the idea is the most impossible daydream imaginable.
“But the Elvar were the race that made dreams come true. It is time that some other races helped you make yours come true in return.”
They had the strangest expressions at this mixture of insult and goodwill. Unfortunately, I was tugging at their heartstrings. They did want that ancient glory, that ancient power, and I was shoving their face in facts they did not want to acknowledge.
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“My offer is out there. I am not asking your entire race, I am asking individuals. If you wish to embrace this hope, it costs you nothing but time and belief that goodwill is possible now as it once was in the past. If this attempt fails... then all that it has cost you is the knowledge that the road you are on may well not be able to change, although I doubt that will be anything but cold comfort for the disbelieving who find themselves right.
“I offer no guarantees that this is correct, or even possible. I offer only belief, and hope. If you do not care to take me up on this, it literally costs me nothing to not do anything. If you do... I believe that matters will play out to my satisfaction, and so have no problems with the minor amounts of time this will take me to put into effect. The results, as they say, will pay for themselves.”
I let that draw out, and waited for the next question, from an Oracle who was starting to blush and seething with rather ill will. “You are human, Contessa Rantha! What says your Emperor to this deal you are proposing?” he sneered. “Is not such cooperation forbidden by the decree of your sovereign seated on his sepulchral throne?”
“The Emperor bleeds Ruby and Sapphire, much like the road you are on,” I replied imperturbably, and he flushed even redder. “He is a psionic lich, not a human. Your deal is with the Duke Corunsun and myself, not the Emperor. If you want to go negotiate some sort of deal with His Imperial Majesty, you are welcome to do so.
“As for whether I am breaking Imperial Law by dealing with you... that has always been a right and privilege of those empowered with a Writ of Nobility, of which I have several, and of which the Duke Corunsun’s dates from before the Emperor arose on Tellus. As long as there is no treachery to the Empire or its people, I am fine doing what I am doing.
“All I am giving you is some of my time. All I am taking is some of yours. If you want to start calculating who will benefit more and who is taking advantage of whom... well, it is plain you’re not walking in the Light at that point, so what I am talking about is not for you anyways.”
I stared him down without effort, and he wasn’t too happy about it. He sat, and now it was the Reader who rose again.
“Some of our sources believe that you are the source of the... vivus that has been sweeping the galaxy?”
I nodded. “I was indeed the one who discovered it on Janus III, and disseminated it from there throughout the Khagan Sector, then arranged matters for it to spread beyond that.”
His timeless eyes regarded me thoughtfully. I had indeed given away that knowledge without asking for compensation, although any fool could tell how valuable it was.
“A word of advice. Don’t try pushing the limits of it regarding the corruption of magic. Vivus will indeed momentarily cleanse mana in the area of effect, but the Warp can bring to bear far more mana than vivus can purge at once, and if you are at the center of effect, you’re not going to be yourself when you walk out of it.
“If you want the true magic to return, then you have to bring down the Warp gods and cleanse the Warp. At that time the Rules of Magic can be taken in hand by greater powers and returned to some semblance of what they once were.
“If you want to try something stupid like launching vivic strikes on the Abyss, you are just asking for Warp Events on the same scale as the Rift, but concentrated on you.”
I inclined my head at the silent King Rargyle. “If you want to dismiss my words as those of a fool who cannot possibly comprehend the affinity of the Elvar for magic and their thirst for some quick fix for the situation they are in using the powers of their ancestors... the Ruk have had exposure to vivus, psionics, and the power of Faith for over a decade now, and know better than to try to bring back the old ways with force. Perhaps they will share their research data with you... as might we, but that is a matter for another time.
“Elvar overestimating themselves is what led to the Apotheosis. If you think you can outdo jRaztl in this matter, well, it’s going to be the final dawn of the Elvar.”
“You dare say that Name here!” a fiery-armored Warrior leapt to his feet, looking for something to be outraged about.
“I’m a Null, Archon. The peacock can’t hear me say His Name any more than the Emperor can hear a call for help from me. Gods and demons can’t hear a Null.” I flicked my eyes over them. “I also exist in the Now, which is why you can’t timesight me, couldn’t tell I was coming, and can’t predict a damn thing about me.
“So if you are wondering why you feel so nervous looking at me, and are picking up on the unease of your Oracles, it’s because they do not threaten me, and they can’t see a bloody thing about the road I’m opening up for you. Unseen roads are always the most dreaded, are they not?”
“You believe that I fear you? A human?” he sneered in contempt. “Do you know how many humans have fallen at my hands?”
I smiled slightly. “That is not the important question here,” I answered, taking no offense. He couldn’t actually challenge me, especially with the Ruk watching. “The important question is... how many Elvar have fallen at my hands?” I smiled widely, as he tensed. “Can you guess the answer, Archon? I’m sure your Oracles can commune with the dead to find out. It is a simple task.”
He glared at me, and the answer he was half-certain was coming. “The hands of your people are stained with the blood of the Elvar!”
“That is not a number,” I corrected him idly, dismissively. “The number you are searching for is zero, Archon. A difficult number, to be sure. The Elvar share it with the Ruk, actually.”
He glanced at King Rargyle standing there, at me. “That does not excuse the sins of your people!” he called out.
“Is the child of a species who created one of the Warp Gods going to start talking about sins of his species?” I rebutted instantly, and now my gaze really intensified, as he almost choked. “Because if we are, that means you are responsible for every single death caused by a servant of Amourae, ever. Including all of the drow, and all of your own dead.
“Come, Archon. Let us tally up the sins of our peoples, and see whose is the greater, shall we?” He began to bristle, and I abruptly relaxed and dismissed him. “Or, we can back off like people of the Light should and find common ground, instead of an excuse to fight. I’m sure the Warp Gods would be happy for the latter, but I have better things to do with my time.”
A Lishiree Oracle rose, glanced at him, and the Firebird Archon retreated stiffly to his seat, wanting to salve his pride, and I just ignored him.
“There is indeed great conflict between our peoples, Contessa Rantha,” the Oracle began.
“The Elvar have no conflicts with me and mine,” I promptly interjected, stopping that line of thought cold.