“It is deeply ironic for a nation that is said to have been founded on the principle of consensus that it repeatedly proves chronically incapable of agreeing on anything.”
– Extract from ‘The Ruin of Empire, or, a Call to Reform of the Highest Assembly’, by Princess Eliza of Salamans
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“Y’should stop worrying, Taylor,” the redhead fussed from beside me.
“I’m not.”
I looked down from the twinkling lights shining down from above, towards the table before us. Plain tablecloth, weights, simple wooden chairs all arranged on manicured grass. Esme, Roland, Yvette, Blaise, and Michel were spread out around the feast.
“You’ve got that look of yours.”
“Look of mine?”
“One that says something’s wrong.”
Clank. Clank. Clank.
Conversation paused as parts of Cordelia’s parade marched along the thoroughfare beyond the walls of the modest estate. I could only just make out the tips of their helmets from the top step of the veranda.
“Nothing’s wrong. Just thinking.”
“‘Bout what?”
“All of this,” I gestured towards the others, “is the calm before the storm.”
“S’not like it isn’t nice.”
“Yeah.”
I joined the others at the table. After a brief prayer, the meal was served and all of us started to dig in.
“This place. You outdid yourself, Song.”
“Y’know, it surprised me how many church properties have unused estates on them. Figured this would do for you.” She gestured with a chicken wing towards the building behind me.
“Eat with proper decorum, you layabout,” Esme sniffed.
“I’m told you’ve prepared to present your case before the Highest Assembly?” Roland inquired from next to Esme.
“I have.”
“Have you considered what you might do should they fail to pass?”
“Then I’ll do the best I can within the limits of the law.”
“How much do you believe yourself to be capable of without official support from the First Prince?”
“A lot.”
I paused and pointed towards a teapot beside Roland. He proffered it to me. I accepted it with a small thanks, then poured myself a cup.
“Cordelia can’t stop Taylor from putting out a call for heroes or from trying to help them. She’d prob’ly be laughed out of the Highest Assembly if she tried. Even if something like that passed, she has no way to enforce it. S’pose it would mean Taylor might need to give up on her idea of paladins for now, though.”
“I’ll do the best I can to help people without them if that’s the case, but I expect that failing to pass that petition will come back to haunt Cordelia later.”
“There are many fantassins who now find themselves without a ship to sail. First Prince Cordelia Hasenbach has proven herself to be a capable leader and will contain the problem using them.”
“H-have you c-consi-sidered how you want to t-train these paladins, chosen?” Blaise inquired from beside me.
“The proposal is in my office and has been heavily reviewed by my advisors. They have annotated it with several recommendations on how to improve the idea’s feasibility. Frankly, I’m more concerned about getting it past first.”
“Are you going to join me at Constance’s Scar, Roland? I think there’s a lot for both of us to learn there. Ma told me that she’s found a place for me there. Isn’t it exciting? A chance to study the Fae.”
“I intend to-” I tuned Roland and Yvette’s discussion out and turned my attention back towards Songbird.
“I’ve done what I can. Brother Simon assures me he did his best.”
“Appointing him liaison between yourself and Cordelia was smart. M’sure the people he sent to bring your proposals to the other princes did their best.”
“I assure you that sometime within the next decade that man will set fire to our port and I will be tasked with putting out the flames,” Esme muttered darkly.
Conversation halted as the sky lit up. Bright lights and illusory banners crafted from the Light fluttered above. They were crude and lacked the finesse that I would have used to achieve the same effect, but they still elicited a smile.
“Y’know, your idea could use some work but… I think it’s good.”
“Yeah. It’s a simple use of the Light. Almost every priest knows how to make basic illusions. Figured it would help with the mood during the celebrations. They just… don’t for some reason.” I smiled at her.
“Still think you should’ve stayed for longer at the big celebration.”
“People were paying more attention to me than to Cordelia,” I shook my head. “Better for me to disappear early. It’s not good for me to undercut her authority.”
“You’ve said as much twice before, but I still think it’ll help strengthen your argument later.”
“Also figured this out,” I changed the topic.
I took a moment and channelled the Light through me, then sent a silent blessing towards Songbird. The effect was complex, drawing upon what I’d learned so far from the Angel’s miracle in the cathedral, combined with a delayed timer based off of healing. It asked, “what if this person’s dreams were pleasant?”
“What?”
“You’ll see later tonight.”
“D’you mean you figured out how to give me amorous dreams?” Songbird grinned.
“I figured out how to bless people’s dreams,” I corrected. “Without the miracle in the church to innovate on, I would still be busy with figuring it out. Hopefully I can teach it to other priests, but… it’s complicated, and I doubt I’ll manage to.”
“It would be wiser if you held secrets like that close to your chest,” Esme criticized.
“Every trick I’m able to share makes the world just a slightly better place. Once I figure out how to turn it into a persistent aura, then nobody within range of me will have nightmares any more.”
“Y’know, I think you shouldn’t’ve put the crown on Cordelia’s head.”
“Delegating that task to another would’ve ensured a Liturgical war sometime within the next decade,” Esme argued.
“Nah,” Songbird sniffed. “The First Prince and Taylor are both hard-headed but reasonable people. They’d talk it out. Problem is the story it tells. If Taylor’d let someone else put the crown on her head, then it tells a story where Cordelia is beneath her. Also would’ve sent the message she doesn’t have your direct approval.”
“Which would make for a terrible diplomatic precedent,” Esme retorted.
I was certain that Songbird was just riling Esme up at this point. She hadn’t mentioned doing something like that before the coronation, so it struck me as nothing more than an attempt to cause trouble bringing it up now.
I listened to the ongoing festivities with one ear as the cold failed to penetrate the warmth of our small group. It was a small party — far more subdued than the grand feasts that were held elsewhere — secluded from the celebrations at large. It still brought a smile to my face.
A brief moment of respite before the oncoming storm.
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The door creaked shut behind me as I entered an understated chamber that smelled faintly of wood smoke. With walls of whitewashed limestone, charred ancient oak rafters and twenty-four thrones spaced out evenly around the room, the Chamber of Assembly surprised me in how humble it was.
Cordelia sat wearing a conservative blue dress on a block of grey granite that projected an inch higher than all the other seats. A circlet of white and gold adorned her brow, and her golden locks cascaded over her shoulders.
Behind her — to one side — was another seat covered in a silk banner displaying a crowned bronze mountain peak on deep blue. Other seats sat empty. The throne of Aequitan and Iserre, for one. Lange and Brus had youths ensconced within them.
Don’t do anything, Taylor. They’re dreams, not reality.
“The assembly recognizes the Chosen, Taylor Hebert,” a white-haired man announced in a thick, Lycaonese accent.
The Master of Orders.
I’d been made to wait outside the Chamber of Assembly while other proposals were considered first. According to Songbird, the Highest Assembly had been considering a proposal put forward by Cordelia requiring for all loans taken by princes in excess of a certain sum to be publicly declared. Both the quantity of money taken on loan and who the loan was taken from. It was an attempt to try to prevent a repeat of the civil war. It remained to be seen how effective it would be.
“By ancient oath, let every word I speak ring true,” I declared.
There is so much ceremony to remember. I hope this speech pays off. I put in the time to include additional theatre just to appeal to their sensibilities.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
At least Cordelia hadn’t tried to prevent me from addressing them at all. While Chosen advisors of Princes could address the Highest Assembly, regular heroes could not. The House of Light was also permitted to petition the Highest Assembly, however, there was nothing requiring them to allow me to step inside these halls. It was possible that she could have tried to deny me the right to speak on a legal technicality. I wasn’t sure if such a trick would work, but it was the kind of tactic I expected from her if she was planning to fight dirty.
“You were heard by these hallowed grounds,” the Master of Orders replied. “Let no lie mar your tongue, no heresy your soul, and may the Heavens grant you righteous purpose in this exchange of words.”
Every other figure — be they princes or their sworn delegates — droned out the sentences with a familiarity which reminded me of children inside a classroom.
Stand tall. No flinching or hesitation.
“Princes and Princesses of the realm of Procer,” I began. “I stand before you today to speak of the future. For is it not the future which now concerns us, after twenty years of bloodshed? So it is with a heavy heart that I warn you of what is yet to come,” I paused for effect, allowing my gaze to move from one prince to another. “Chaos. That is what the future has in store for us all.”
Who will oppose me?
The Lycaonese would all vote with Cordelia. Brus would definitely vote against me. The handsome lad seated on the throne scowled up a thunderstorm in my direction. The other leaders I wasn’t so sure of. Not because I didn’t have some idea, but because Esme had warned me that the First Prince could potentially force the vote her way regardless.
Brother Simon had been more optimistic.
He’d taken the time to correspond with the others. Everyone here already knew what I was proposing. This was just a formal resolution of something that had been debated in the shadows. The southern principalities — I’d been informed — were all likely to throw their weight behind my first two proposals. It was the last two which were the problem.
“Do not mistake this for the dire prophesizing of a woman otherwise bereft of wits. Already the first seeds of discord will have blossomed within each of your borders. New heroes and villains both. With seemingly no rhyme and reason, they have materialized from the wind and sown further chaos to lands that teeter on the brink of ruin. A time of trouble lies ahead of us. Does anyone dare to claim otherwise?”
There was a murmur of agreement in response to that. A particularly odious man seated on the chair for Cantal drowned everyone out while proclaiming his approval. I didn’t know who he was. Something about him — beyond just his sleazy dreams — made my skin crawl.
“And so I come before you to offer you hope of salvation. Four requests — four formal petitions to be presented to the Highest Assembly — in an attempt to stave off the oncoming storm. But before I regale you further, I would make a request that both the votes at the end of each petition and the preceding addresses for all petitions be entered into the formal public record.”
My voice echoed throughout an otherwise silent chamber. I doubted that anyone had expected this request. The hope was that if my proposals failed then the people of Procer would be aware of who voted against the proposals and what the proposals were. Then when trouble did eventually come…
Well, it would be much harder to deny me a second time.
“As per law, such a request can only be granted by the First Prince of Procer,” the Master of Orders said. “I now put the question to Her Most Serene Highness, First Prince of Procer, Princess of Salia.”
Cordelia inclined her head.
“I grant the request.”
Good.
Brother Simon had both suggested the idea and reassured me that she would not refuse the request. Denying something like this so early into her reign would be an indication that she was not as secure in her power as she presented herself.
“And so we come at last to the heart of the matter. How should we combat the chaos to come? My answer is deceptive in its simplicity. Once, long ago, she who called herself Triumphant walked these lands, and it was only through uniting that she was laid low. The answer to today’s problems remains the same as it was back in the days long past. We should unite. Work together to push back the darkness.”
I paused and looked them all over.
“The first petition is for the Highest Assembly to formally recognize me as the legitimate leader of the Proceran House of Light. Let all members of the clergy who contest this proposal forfeit the right to their lands to the principality they fall within. For to stand divided in the times to come is to fall alone. We cannot afford for petty conflicts or confusion in the many years to come.”
The eyes of many of the princes seemed to light up with greed at the latter part of this proposal. It didn’t surprise me. The opportunity to seize lands from the House of Light was one that all the princes would pounce on.
“The assembly recognizes the Princess of Aisne,” the Master of Orders announced.
Princess Clotilde inclined her head before speaking. “I second the motion.”
“The assembly recognizes the Princess of Brus,” the Master of Orders announced.
“What makes one such as you, who made sport of honour in the swamps of Brus fitting to serve as the leader of the House of Light?”
Honourable battle, the kind from a children’s story.
How best to approach this? Talk about myself or challenge his argument. I think the latter is safer.
“I could extol my own virtues. Tell you that the House of Light is a religious institution first. That every member claims to put the will of the Gods before everything else. I could ask you who better to lead the House of Light than a hero. Those arguments and many more would have all made for fine rebuttals.”
I paused.
“Instead, I will answer your question with one of my own. When I confronted the Prince of Brus in the depths of the swamp, I warned him of what would come to pass should he fail to heed my words. I begged him to turn aside, to seek another solution to end the conflict. The man was deaf to my pleas. Where is the honour in sacrificing the life of thousands for the sake of his own vanity?”
There was a murmur of approval from Princess Mathilda.
“There is both honour and glory to be won fighting a battle in service to one’s lord,” Prince Frederick retorted.
“Then is there honour in shielding a son who is a rapist from reprisal when the child attempted to lay his hands upon me? Is there honour in insisting on spending the lives of his men when the outcome is already known? The Prince of Brus could have insisted on a duel to settle the matter if he wished to die at the end of a blade. He could have negotiated a treaty with Cordelia Hasenbach. Instead, he chose to sacrifice his own people. There is no honour in how he acted. No virtue in the choices that he made. Only ambition to a fault.”
Prince Frederick Goethal looked apoplectic. I suspected that he was about to raise another argument. I forestalled his chance to speak.
“You wished to know what makes me the right candidate to lead the Proceran House of Light? There are many reasons. I have no interest in accruing power save for the sake of helping others. I do not wish to rule, nor do I have any taste for war. There is no chance of me threatening another Liturgical war because one would be anathema to my own interests. You need not fear that I will politic in the shadows or drive a knife into your backs. Furthermore, there is an additional consideration. There are many stories which I am unable to take an active Role in, some which involve positions of leadership in organizations such as this one. You prevent the development of those Names by formalizing my position.”
Another representative was announced, and more criticisms were raised. My legs became tired as the dissection of my arguments continued, but eventually it drew to an end.
“The Prince of Rhenia moves for vote over the motion,” Cordelia stated.
One by one, the various princes and princesses — or their delegates — voted on the motion.
I swallowed back my nervousness. These were without a doubt the most important people in the Principate. I didn’t like them. I suspected that if I caught them at the wrong moment, I’d execute them without a second thought. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do their jobs for them should that come to pass.
The motion succeeded, but it was only the first. It wasn’t surprising that it succeeded. It was both the least contentious and the one they stood the most to gain from. While it would have been nice to believe that I succeeded on the merits of my argument, I suspected that human greed was the primary motivation.
“There came a time in days long past when men and women sworn to the Gods took up weapons and fought for the right to rule. Many laws were passed in those troubled times. Restrictions governing the production of arms and armour. We cannot know for certain what troubles the future may hold, but we can draw some inferences. The Evil to the north lies dormant, not dead, and one day it will wake up. The civil war within the principate was fuelled by the Tyrant in the Tower, and soon a reprisal is due. ”
The smarmy man in the seat for Cantal let out a loud bellow of approval, then began to clap. Nobody else joined in. I averted my eyes from him and returned my attention to Cordelia.
“Would you rather be woken in the dead of the night with a blade on your throat and death breathing down your spine, or face those evils forewarned and forearmed? With weapons imbued with the Light of the Gods and armour that shields against sorcery. The second proposal the House of Light petitions to the Highest Assembly for is rescinding existing bans placed on the right to manufacture arms and armour. Let us play our part in the battle against Evil when they march towards the Principate once more.”
The process of criticism began once again.
“The assembly recognizes the Prince of Rhenia,” the Master of Orders announced.
“The restriction on the manufacture, stockpiling, and sale of arms and armour does not prevent the House of Light from performing these tasks in service of another. Smiths may hire priests to perform the duties you propose, provided that the finished goods do not end up in the possession of the church. If there was any market for the wares you seek to manufacture, then the opportunity for profits would have been seized years ago.”
“The argument that priests could have undertaken the same duties in the assistance of artisans outside the umbrella of our organization fails to take into consideration the scale of production. The manufacture of imbued equipment is more costly than it would be, should the process be performed at scale.” I replied.
“The assembly recognizes-”
The arguments continued back and forth. Eventually the vote was called. The motion failed to pass. It wasn’t encouraging. If they weren’t willing to consider doing this much, then I doubted they would consider the next two proposals.
“I have already spoken of the troubles that come, of the chaos that waits around the corner. Now I would speak to you of the steps we can take to mitigate them. Since time immemorial, heroes and villains have waged a war of reprisal against each other. We answer to no laws save those of the heavens, and thousands have suffered as a consequence of this. I offer to remedy this. To form a council of Named heroes in the Principate that regulate the behaviour of heroes and villains alike.”
It was the quietest the chamber had been since the start.
“But like all boons, there is a cost. Should you wish for heroes to obey the dictates of the law, then the laws need to encompass all. There are procedures to remove a prince or even the First Prince through the Highest Assembly. Those procedures rarely — if ever — see use. Poisoning kin to avoid the sting of justice is the avoidance of justice, not the meting out of it. Each of you received a written proposal detailing a series of laws I wish to pass, detailing conditions whereby a hero may judge and execute those who hold the current office.”
“The assembly recognizes the Prince of Cantal,” the Master of Orders spoke.
“The advice of those Chosen by the Heavens is always such a delight,” the man smiled. “While I wouldn’t hesitate to pass such an enlightened motion, I suspect the wisdom of why may be lost on everyone else.”
This man is such an ass.
“I’m simply acknowledging the world as it already is, then doing my best to change it for the better. The Chosen and the Damned already live by a different set of rules. The White Knight who called down an Angel of Contrition because the First Prince of the time intended to bargain with the Dead King at the start of the Seventh Crusade was never held to account. Laurence de Montfort once slew the Salutary Alchemist and the Prince of Valencis and walked free. The Fey Enchantress murdered two Princes of Procer before she was laid low. In some cases the fates of the princes were earned, in others they were not. If you wish for the opportunity to hold the Chosen and the Damned to account, then the law needs to hold in both directions.”
“The assembly recognizes the Prince of Rhenia.”
“Salienta’s Graces have declared all men to stand equal before the law since the founding of the Principate of Procer. Passing your proposal would not only make a mockery of the story of our nation, but it would in effect be passing the reins of power from the hands of the princes to the House of Light. Justice applies to both the high and the low, should those in the seat of power be found guilty.”
“Do they?” I asked quietly. “Do they stand equal before the law? If a man is assaulted on the streets and his assailants are caught, then whether the perpetrator is tried is dependent on their standing. Those in power aren’t found guilty. They just quietly disappear when it's inconvenient. The system doesn’t even work. Not completely. If it did, then you wouldn’t have the civil war.”
“The assembly recognizes the Princess of Valencis.”
“You would rather the laws of the nation change, then those who would break them are held to account for it?”
“Why shouldn’t those with a Name follow different rules? You already have different rules for princes, for priests and for wizards. Wizards can’t heal according to the law. Nobles face different punishments than peasants. Priests have a large series of rights and responsibilities that nobody else has. Why should the Chosen be any different? Our circumstances diverge wildly from anyone else’s. It’s folly to try to treat us the same.”
“The assembly recognizes the Prince of Rhenia.”
“The law often fails the people that it serves completely and utterly. That is not an argument to cast it aside, but rather to amend its many faults. You would dismiss both our laws and our traditions to enact a system of rule where the power to decide life and death rests in your hands alone. You would make of yourself a tyrant. A monarch in all but name in a nation that prides itself on rule through consensus.”
“I already have that power. If the Saint of Swords was to ride thr-”
The door to the Chamber of Assembly shattered, then everything went to hell.