Chapter Two Hundred Two: 'The Lion's insight...'

Asad Najir was tired. His return to Sair had been rather turbulent, to say the least. At times, it felt like he was constantly being interrogated. The other Sandlords were constantly questioning him, wanting to know his intentions.

They had not been pleased to learn of what had transpired in the Undercrust and now seemed to think that he would soon bring more trouble down upon their heads.

He supposed he could understand their concerns. He was responsible almost entirely for the current predicament that the Sandlords found themselves in with the Vanguard.

Having met with Iceheart personally now, it seemed clear to Asad that the Vanguard was suspicious of him but lacked the justification to take any kind of action. The other Sandlords had covered for him during his absence, thankfully. An impromptu family retreat. Much needed after the harrowing attack on his childhood home of Dunehall.

Not to mention, Abbas Saqqaf had delivered Ivan's head to them on a silver platter. The Vanguard could hardly complain about that.

That particular development had overshadowed almost all others, it seemed. The Lord Saqqaf's fame had skyrocketed, along with that of the Sandlords as a whole.

With the Rainlords "missing," the Sandlords had been forced to intervene in western Sair to prevent anarchy from taking over.

At least, that was what the Sandlords had been telling themselves. And while it was hard to argue with that justification, Asad couldn't help being quite uncomfortable about it.

He did not think it would go as smoothly as many of his brethren seemed to.

The Rainlords' subjects were not your average civilians. They were a hard, resilient people, as proud of their heritage and their history as perhaps the Rainlords themselves. And the loyalty that those subjects had for the Rainlords--Asad did not think that would be forgotten any time soon.

Not to mention that, from a historical standpoint, this event was not exactly unprecedented. The Rainlords had been driven from their land once before by the Mohssian Empire. They had been brought to the brink of extinction.

Yet it was the Rainlords who had persisted into the modern day, not the Empire. And of course, having just spent considerable time among them, Asad knew perfectly well how much the Rainlords wished to return to Sair and reclaim their territory.

There was no telling when they might be able to accomplish that, however. Having raised an organized resistance against the Vanguard was no minor issue. According to the Sandlords' intel, the Rainlord Rebellion--as it was now being called--had sent shock waves through the Vanguardian ranks.

Which was no surprise. The Rainlords were renowned for their honor and virtuous ideals. It would be difficult for even the Vanguardian propaganda officers to paint them as wholly in the wrong.

Perhaps that was why the Vanguard, in spite of all the inquiries being conducted, still seemed quite eager to work even more closely with the Sandlords than ever before. While their reputation was faltering, the Sandlords' was swelling.

Asad sat down in his favorite chair and closed his eyes. It was finally the end of the day. All his meetings were either done or postponed, and he very much looked forward to getting a good night's sleep.

But a few things were still bothering him, and he wanted to take some time to sit here and think.

Not to meditate. He should probably do a bit of that, too, before going to sleep, but no, this was a ritual that he learned from his father. It was an opportunity to stop and take stock of things. To reevaluate them.

With so much going on around him, it was easy to become overwhelmed. To let things slip by, unnoticed.

He tried to focus his mind. To concentrate on what was bothering him.

There were actually more than a few things, he soon realized.

There was his family. Specifically, his wife, Samira. She was being... rather difficult to please, again.

When they had first gotten married, she was always so happy. And her happiness was his happiness. In retrospect, it was perhaps naive to think that time would last the rest of their lives. Especially since they were both servants.

But still. The extent to which she had changed troubled him.

She was fearful of so many things, these days. That always seemed to be at the heart of whatever foul mood she might be in. Today, for instance, she had accused him--and not for the first time--of adultery.

She hadn't come right out and said so, of course. That wasn't her way. She had instead asked, "Who are you trying so hard to look good for?"

He had smiled at first, thinking it to be a surprisingly sweet compliment. But the look on her face quickly killed that notion. And when he had tried to have a conversation about it with her and explain, again, that he would never be unfaithful, she had refused to say anything more.

It was difficult not to hate her, sometimes.

Asad supposed he should start scheduling appointments for marriage counseling again. He was reluctant to resort to it, but looking back, it had helped before. And the reapers were only so helpful to that end. Samira didn't seem to trust them to tell her the truth, either. And being members of the family, it was probably difficult for her to see them as genuinely "objective."

He truly had to wonder why she believed he might ever be unfaithful to her, though. Historically, yes, Sandlords had often taken multiple wives and mistresses, but Asad had only ever had eyes for her. How could she not know that?

He decided not to dwell on it further. He'd already resolved to return to counseling. It was time to move onto the next matter that had been bothering him.

And that was Abbas Saqqaf, the Lord of the Golden Fort, and the new de facto leader of the Sandlords.

Abbas had been the most powerful of them for some years already, but it was never more apparent than now. Having captured the Salesman of Death single-handedly, the man's reputation was at an all-time high.

Which put him in a particularly precarious position, for several reasons--the first of which being the fact that Abbas Saqqaf was not a member of the Vanguard.

And boy, did they want him to be.

The other Sandlords who were part of the Vanguard were pressuring the Lord Saqqaf constantly. Asad, who was not a member either, hoped that the man would remain firm in his conviction to not join.

The second reason that Abbas' newfound fame was so dangerous was because of the potential for abuse of political clout. Asad didn't see eye-to-eye with him on several subjects, but he still trusted his judgment for the most part.

The same could not be said for all of his fellow Sandlords, however. Asad was quite worried that certain other Hahls would see Abbas' ascent as a threat to them in the long-term.

Because perhaps it was.

Asad wanted to keep a close eye on his brethren in the days to come. Hopefully, none of them would do anything stupid and jeopardize their union. The lessons of the War of the Three Sands should still be fresh in the mind of many reapers, so Asad wanted to be optimistic, but it was also good to remain vigilant with these types of things. He had never personally experienced disunity with his kin on such a level as to provoke violence, and he hoped he never would.

The next matter on his mind was Abolish.

They had been quite thoroughly and brutally routed from Sair--and in large part, without the Vanguard's help. All of the Sandlords had been concerned about the Vanguard capturing Abolishers who were present at Dunehall--or in other words, Abolishers who might be able to tell the Vanguard that the Rainlords had been there.

And so the Lords of the Drylands had given no quarter in hunting the bastards down. Asad had even caught wind of a few Abolish prisoners who DID get captured by the Vanguard, only to end up dead anyway under "questionable circumstances."

Asad had little doubt that one or more of the other Hahls was behind it, and thankfully, the Vanguard hadn't been able to prove anything so far.

And this, combined with the Vanguard's simultaneous eagerness to win favor with the Sandlords? It made for a very strange state of affairs, to be sure.

And then, of course, there were the Rainlords back in Atreya. What manner of trouble might be brewing there, Asad had to wonder.

On the one hand, the Rainlords had not been in the best of spirits when he last saw them--as anyone would be, after having been repeatedly battered, trampled, robbed, and humiliated. Even their unity might still be in question, he felt, considering the trouble that had transpired with House Blackburn.

But on the other hand, they were also now under the protection of the young Lord of Warrenhold.

When he had first met him, if Asad was being brutally honest, he hadn't thought much of the boy. A mere child, tagging along because of a tangentially-related reaper.

But now?

Now Asad found himself wondering if Hector might just be the most formidable of all his allies.

He knew how young the boy really was, but perhaps that didn't matter as much as he had previously thought. Hector's list of accomplishments spoke for itself. At Marshrock. At Dunehall. At Babbadelo. And apparently also at Himmekel and Capaporo, too. Even now, he still wasn’t sure he believed half of what he had been told about those last two.

The accomplishment that was occupying Asad’s thoughts the most, however, was the one that occurred at Babbadelo. Others who recounted the young lord's exploits might not even mention it, but to Asad's mind, the invention of that orbital materialization technique was no minor thing.

That technique had been bothering him ever since Hector first explained it to him and Zeff, but he had never been quite sure why. There was just something about it. Something subtle, yet still somehow fundamental, perhaps.

With everything else going on lately and all his other concerns weighing on him, Asad hadn’t been able to give that technique the amount of analytical consideration that he wanted--the amount that it probably deserved. He’d discussed it a bit with Zeff, but the man had probably been even more distracted than he was.

But here and now, as he held his hand out in front of his face and practiced the technique for himself, watching a pair of quartz cubes float around his open palm, Asad finally had the opportunity to really stop and dwell on it for a while.

And after a time, to his own surprise, he began to gain an inkling of what his problem with it might be.

So it was extra unfortunate that Qorvass phased through the wall and interrupted his train of thought. ‘Hey, Haqq wants to talk to you,’ the reaper said in Valgan.

Asad’s tattooed face scrunched up a little as he tried to hold on to his thoughts. “About what?” he asked, not wanting to complain.

The reaper hovered there for a moment, looking at him. ‘Ah… you were doing your thing again, weren’t you?’

“My thing?”

'Your “not meditation” thing. Whatever you want to call it.’

“I believe it is called ‘thinking.’ Perhaps you should try it sometime.”

'Ouch. Someone’s grouchy.’

He took a breath, knowing Qorvass hadn’t deserved that comment. “I apologize. I didn’t mean that…”

'Yes, I should hope not. Would you rather be left alone, right now? I don’t mind leaving. Or telling Haqq to go plow himself. In fact, I would enjoy that.’

Asad rubbed his neck and breathed a faint laugh. “No, that is alright. I enjoy your company, Qorvass.”

'Oh. And now you’re being nice? I’m getting some mixed signals here.’

Asad moved on to rubbing his forehead. “Well, maybe the signals in my head are mixed to begin with.”

'Hmm.’ The reaper floated closer. The flaming wings of Qorvass’ scorpionfly form beat rapidly and constantly but still without making any noise, even as he moved. ‘What were you thinking about, then? Maybe talking it through with me will help.’

He gave the reaper a look, considering. He supposed it couldn’t hurt. “Do you remember that orbital materialization technique that Hector Goffe came up with in Babbadelo?”

'Um. Yes. THAT’S what you were thinking about?’

He decided to ignore that question. “Did you think anything was strange about it?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

'Ah. Sure. I thought it was strange that such a young servant could come up with something like that.’

“Anything else?”

The reaper hesitated. ‘Are we turning this into a game? I would prefer you just tell me what you are getting at. Is there something YOU found particularly strange about it?’

Asad decided to oblige. “I think it might be impossible.”

'What?’ said Qorvass. ‘What do you mean? How could it be impossible? You watched him do it. We both did.’

“Yes,” said Asad, holding up a hand to perform the technique. “And I can do it myself. As can Zeff.”

The reaper gave an insectoid shrug. ‘So it’s not impossible, then.’

Asad shook his head. “What I mean is, given our current understanding of materialization, this technique might be considered impossible. Or in other words, it should be impossible, but it isn’t.”

Qorvass’ eyes bugged out slightly more than they did normally. ‘You’re saying… you think our understanding of materialization is flawed?’

He nodded. “Perhaps.”

The reaper seemed a bit dumbstruck. ‘…That would be a really big deal, Asad.’

“I know.”

'What do you think might be flawed about it?’

“That is what I was trying to work out.”

'Okay… so talk me through it, then. What part of the technique seems impossible to you?’

“Well… I’m still trying to work that out, too.”

'Ugh. Come on. You can’t just tell me something like that and not go into anything specific.’

Asad frowned and made the pair of cubes hovering around his hand go faster. “This part seems sensible enough to me. The orbiting. These moving objects are merely extensions of the ‘perpetually falling cube’ trick that is simple enough for even rookie materializers to perform. That trick keeps the cube still, whereas this allows them to move by designating a point around which to orbit. It is, hypothetically, a complex cognitive process, requiring constant creation and annihilation around the edges of the object, but in practice, it is relatively easy to perform.

“I suspect this ease comes from the simplicity of imagining the object moving along a set distance away from the designated orbiting point. If I were to alter the distance of orbit like so--" He pushed the cubes farther away from him and tried to make their paths bumpy and irregular. “--it becomes significantly more difficult for me.” He squinted a little while maintaining his concentration, watching the cubes tremble along their new, erratic orbits.

'Okay,’ said Qorvass. ‘So if the orbiting makes sense to you, then…?’

“It’s the technique’s ability to create explosive impact forces that I find baffling.”

'Hmm,’ the reaper hummed. ‘And why is that? My understanding is that it merely functions as a way to achieve exceptionally high velocity states at a lower skill threshold. Like a means of overcoming a mental block, perhaps, by conceptualizing the problem in a different manner.’

“Yes… and also no. That may be what the technique is accomplishing, but it shouldn’t be. At least, theoretically. Because the actual orbiting part that I just described… doesn’t use ‘velocity’ states. It only uses ‘position’ states.”

Qorvass just looked at him, perhaps waiting for elaboration.

Asad held the orbiting cubes up again. “Technically, these objects aren’t actually ‘moving’ at all. They just look like they are. And I suppose you might argue that there’s no difference. If they are going from point A to point B, then that is all that matters.” Asad exhaled a long breath. “But it’s not all that matters, at least on a technical level.”

'I’m still not sure I follow your logic here…’

“It’s more like… looking through a three-dimensional window into an alternate universe.”

The reaper’s head tilted at that. ‘Excuse me?’

“These cubes that you see are not moving--not in the same way that a thrown ball moves or a planet orbiting the Sun moves. Rather, they’re more like an image in a window. In some sense, it is the window that is moving, not the object on the other side. And we just can’t tell by simply looking at it, because we ARE the window. This physical reality is the window.”

'I’m not sure that’s any easier to understand, Asad.’

He sighed another time. “I told you I was still struggling to figure this out, didn’t I?”

'You did. But alternate realities? Really?’

“I’m not saying that it IS an alternate reality. I’m saying that it may be easier to conceptualize it as such, for the purpose of understanding that these orbiting cubes are not actually moving.”

'Hmm.’

Asad rubbed his chin with his free hand. “This is probably even more difficult to explain to a non-materialization user.”

'Mm. Okay. Well, let’s just say you’ve convinced me of that part, then. They aren’t moving. Why is that so incompatible with the idea that the end result is some kind super-enhanced velocity state?’

“Because that would mean that materialization’s own rules hardly even matter--that it’s all ultimately just a trick of the mind.”

'Well. Is it not?’

Asad’s expression soured. “No. These sorts of tricks should only work to a certain extent. This is far beyond that, I feel.”

'Hence why you think our understanding of materialization might be flawed.’

“Yes… there is something fundamentally off with this.”

'Hmm.’

“It would almost make more sense if only Hector could utilize this technique,” said Asad.

'How do you mean?’

“If neither Zeff nor I could perform it, then perhaps this could all just be chalked up to the young lord’s encounter with Rasalased. A gift from the Dry God.”

'Agh, don’t even bring that up, please.’

Asad couldn’t help smiling a little. “Are you still upset that they were able to meet him before us?”

'Intensely, yes. That entire scenario was just absurd.’

“At least we have confirmation that Rasalased is still there after all this time.” His eyes went to the travel bag by his bed. Hector Goffe and Emiliana Elroy were currently in possession of two of the Shards of the Dry God, and the remaining two were in that bag there.

Asad and Qorvass had never made a big issue out of it in front of anyone else, but it had not been a trivial decision to allow Hector to keep one of the Shards. With Emiliana, the poor girl had been whisked away by the Monster of the East, so she had obviously never been given an opportunity to return her Shard--and likely wouldn’t for a very long time. And given Hector’s--and ONLY Hector’s--ability to converse with her through them, it would have been quite cruel to insist Hector return his.

The circumstances were extenuating, to be sure, but that didn’t change the fact that those Shards were arguably more precious than any other artifact that the Sandlords as a whole possessed. And the power that lay dormant within them was no meager thing. One day, they could become very real weapons again. And that could prove to be either a great blessing or a great problem.

'I didn’t require confirmation that he was still there,’ said Qorvass bitterly. ‘I remember perfectly well.’

Asad didn’t doubt him. Qorvass was one of the oldest reapers among the Sandlords. Asad knew that Qorvass felt especially attached to the Shards. “Even so, a lot can change in seven hundred years.”

'Hmph.’

“Anyway, we are getting off-topic,” said Asad.

'Are we? It seems similarly possible that even if Rasalased didn’t grant Hector this new ability, he could have still granted him the knowledge needed to discover it.’

The thought had occurred to Asad as well. “Maybe, but it makes little difference at this point.”

'I disagree. If Rasalased granted him this knowledge, then who knows what else might be in that young man’s head, now?’

“All the more reason to remain on good terms with him,” said Asad.

'I wasn’t trying to suggest otherwise. Rather, I recommend bringing him into the fold, if at all possible.’

Asad knew exactly what the reaper meant, as he had been considering it as well. “I’m not so sure that it IS possible, but yes, I agree in sentiment, at least.”

'Are you concerned that our Rainlord friends will not approve?’

“Oh, I’m certain they won’t.”

'They are no doubt trying to find a suitable bride for him at this very moment. But even if Hector were to agree--and I’m not sure he will--I don’t imagine that Garovel will just sit idly by and watch his servant be married off to just anyone. He seemed a shrewd one to me.’

“I thought you liked Garovel,” said Asad.

'Oh, I do. We haven’t known each other long, but I already consider him a good friend. But that doesn’t mean he will do as we wish, even if we ask nicely.’

"Heh. What a shame.”

'But whether Rasalased granted him this knowledge or he really did come up with it on his own, it doesn’t change the fact that this technique SHOULD still follow the rules of materialization.’

“Hence why I said it makes little difference. I’m not sure that even Hector himself fully understands his technique.”

'You think he invented it without realizing the full depth of its complexity?’

Asad deliberated silently for a moment. That notion seemed particularly absurd, somehow. While it was perfectly possible for someone to discover something accidentally or invent some kind of machine without understanding its full functionality, Asad had a hard time believing that such a thing was possible when it came to materialization. So much of materialization depended on the wielder’s understanding of the thing being materialized. Even someone of very high skill level would struggle to create something simple if they didn’t understand how it was shaped, what physical features it had, or how it was supposed to work.

It seemed very unlikely that Hector could have invented something unintentionally, and yet…

“…What if it’s not so much ‘the orbital technique’ that Hector invented, as it is something else?”

'And what in the world does that mean?’

“The latter part of the technique,” said Asad, thinking back, “after the orbital acceleration, Hector said it requires the user to ‘lose control’ of it in order to launch. I hadn’t thought much of that before, because I was able to do it so easily, but… that is incredibly unlike most materialization techniques. Or ALL of them, really. Losing control? On purpose? Materialization is always about tightly concentrating and fully comprehending everything you are doing. Always being in control. Because when you are not, your work goes completely awry."

'Are you saying that merely allowing yourself to lose control is somehow the catalyst for the technique’s explosive power?’ said Qorvass.

When the reaper put it like that, it sounded stupid. “I don’t know if it’s the only reason, but it might play a role.”

'Right. And what role would that be, exactly?’

Asad was getting a little irritated. “If I knew that, I would’ve told you by now!”

'Well, believe it or not, I may have an alternate theory.’

“Oh? I’m inclined to not believe it.”

'I may not be a materialization wizard like you, but I do have a few thousand years of observing servants under my belt.’

“Go on, then. Dazzle me with your insight.”

'Okay, now you’re putting too much pressure on me. This theory might be complete hogwash, by the way. I’m just putting it out there, alright?’

“Just tell me.”

'Alright, well, uh… what if I said that your suspected flaw in our understanding of materialization went beyond just materialization?’

Asad raised an eyebrow at that.

'Listen. Throughout history, I have occasionally heard of anomalous occurrences like this. Surprising displays of ability that were previously thought impossible. Many of those occurrences have since been explained, and the understanding of each corresponding servant ability-type has increased as a result.

'However, a few of those occurrences remain mysterious even to this day. This could be an instance of that. Which would make it a flaw in our thinking that is not necessarily specific to materialization, but perhaps instead to all ability types.’

Asad stared past the reaper as he tried to wrap his head around that concept.

'I know it’s not much of a theory, really, but I wanted you to broaden the scope of your thinking, at least.’

Asad gave a slow nod. “Well, you’ve accomplished that.”