The following day, I made my way to the publishing house and signed a contract that was already prepared, despite it being a Sunday. Afterward, I stepped outside and gave the sun a cheerful smile. An entire day had passed since my discussion with the chief editor, and I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I was going to be published, and so soon at that!
I'm going to be published!
Damn! It's fantastic, but why am I so jittery?
After lingering briefly on the steps, I noticed a familiar name: a chain of cafes renowned for their exceptional ice cream. Deciding to indulge, I purchased a massive cone, but chose to enjoy it outside, settling on a bench shaded by an elm tree.
The Mirage Comics publishing house was located in the old city, teeming with tourists around lunchtime. Despite Wilflaes not having a history spanning thousands of years, the capital of Novilter is a beautiful city with a unique style. Old French and colonial motifs, modern architectural marvels, and classical designs all seamlessly interwoven.
Therefore, I barely noticed a middle-aged man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and linen trousers similar to mine, who took a seat on the same bench. Likely a tourist seeking to rest, he didn't interrupt my enjoyment of the delicious creamy ice cream. That's why his words took me by surprise:
"You've made a significant decision, Sire."
I instantly recognized that voice. I did, and a chill ran down my spine, one that the ice cream in my hand would be envious of.
"I apologize for the intrusion," continued the legate of the Holy See in a hushed tone. "But I couldn't help but intercept you – you've made a pivotal decision."
"Have I?"
"You need not play word games with me, Sire. I will always be by your side, Sire. Always and at all times."
He, however, would also dictate what "my side" required. Nevertheless, I didn't dare voice this and simply remained silent.
"There are two questions," continued Abel de Diaz, undeterred by my silence. "Decisions which would drastically alter you, Sire."
People strolled past us, but it was as if our bench was invisible to everyone. Most likely, the Dark adept had cloaked us under an invisible attention-diverting dome.
"The first one – have you figured out where to look for the Door?"
How does he know about the Door? But then again, he is the oldest inquisitor, and there probably isn't a secret in the world that is beyond his reach.
"No, if that were the case, you'd be on the phone with young Zanh Kiem right about now. Am I correct, Sire?"
I quietly savored my ice cream, pretending it was incredibly sweet, but in reality, I couldn't taste it at all.
"So it's not the Door," the legate continued to muse aloud. "That leaves only one possibility, Sire. You've made a decision about the Treaty. Am I right? Yes. And no, I won't try to convince you to change your mind or debate this decision."
"But... There's always a 'but.'"
"No buts, Sire. I'm merely inquiring as to whether you're interested in knowing more about the historical context of the First Treaty. If you say 'no,' I will leave immediately."
The question was too important to overlook.
"Speak," I hoped my voice came across as steady.
"Few people are aware of the Treaty, and even fewer question it. For instance, why were there numerous shapeshifters in power on one side, and only you on the other?"
"On the other?" He didn't say "on the side of the humans"!
"Good question, Sire." His smile was unexpectedly gentle and quite human. "You'll comprehend the answer a bit later. But for now, one and many, why?"
One might argue: "Because El Cid remained the Last King of Men," and there were no others left. But something told me this was too simplistic an explanation and therefore not accurate.
"One and many, Sire," Abel de Diaz echoed.
I glanced at him and, for some reason, recalled my conversation with the Heir. I seized this resemblance and, guided by instinct, I responded:
"Only equals negotiate. The weak capitulate."
"Correct, Sire. The forces supporting your previous incarnation were not inferior to the power of the newly emerged shapeshifters. And... they could have even triumphed. Can you deduce what these forces were, Sire?"
"I gathered as much from the context," I nodded in response to his question. "But did the Dark Ones ever wield such power? Was there a turning point when Gifted individuals like yourself began losing to the Light, even without considering the war with the shapeshifters?"
"War?" Abel de Diaz laughed heartily. "It's the Light Ones who need to fight the shapeshifters, Sire. For people like me, these nobles are merely fodder, hearty and satisfying fodder."
I stared at him and believed every word he said.
"For instance, to defeat me in a hypothetical fair fight, the Heir of Novilter would have to sacrifice his entire guard and half his vassals."
"You are unique," I interjected. "It's not fair to compare others to you."
"And here we arrive at you, Sire. Or rather, your incarnation," the legate corrected himself. "You weren't a sensum then, but you possessed a unique talent. So rare that it appears only once in a millennium."
"Talent?"
"A Gifted person that you accepted into your inner circle immediately elevated their power level. A Feeler would become a Contemplator. A Contemplator would become a Seer. A Seer would become a Maker. Instantly, and they would maintain it as long as you kept your trust in this Gifted One."
"Maker – Creator?!" I continued the sequence.
"No, if that were the case, you and I would be living in an entirely different world, Sire. The level of Maker was the maximum your Talent could achieve," the Dark Adept corrected me and continued. "At the time of the First Treaty's signing, the forces under your command had already recaptured all of Aragon and Castile. Your coalition, a union of ordinary people and the Dark Gifted, had gone on the offensive."
"That is..."
"You got it right. You were winning, Sire!"
"Then why the Treaty?"
"To be honest, no one knows, and I was hoping to hear from you, Sire."
Naturally, I didn't know the answer and was on the verge of admitting it. But... It's difficult to explain, but I suddenly understood - I knew. This knowledge didn't come from an external source, and it certainly wasn't suggested by my Spark. It was different. This knowledge was always within me, buried deep in my soul, a place usually beyond our grasp. Perhaps those who are so adamant that I was once Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar in a past life aren't entirely wrong?
"Dark Age," I murmured.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
"What?" The legate leaned forward.
"Eternal Dark Age," I clarified.
El Cid's side could really have won. Dark adepts, their power is genetic; it's a sort of mutation of sensums. Due to the nature of their power and altered energy structure, the Dark Ones are incredibly self-centered. Selfishness is the essence of their being. The most they can do is rally around their clan. However, if the clan leader's power is questionable, the Dark Ones will rip them apart. They'll do it themselves - they're essentially vampires.
Not the fictional vampires who are dead and sleep in coffins, but real ones, who feed not on blood but on the energy of living people. They are as predatory as shapeshifters, if not more so. For shapeshifters, humans are a labor resource, but for Dark Ones, humans are essentially food.
When comparing the fighting abilities of Light and Dark sensums, they're more or less equal. At least, in theory. In practice, most Light Gifted are principled pacifists: they wouldn't harm a person, even if they were being attacked. Not all, of course, but there's a significant number of them. Despite their strengths and capabilities, the Dark Ones rarely impacted anything on a global scale due to their innate individualism. They might seize control locally, but this had little effect on the grand scheme of things.
Abel de Diaz hit the nail on the head: the power of shapeshifters is tied to the immense amount of animal energy they possess, making them an attractive food source for the Dark Ones. However, worldwide, the Dark Ones went underground or were defeated because, unlike them, shapeshifters were able to band together. As a result, despite heavy casualties, the shapeshifters crushed the Dark adepts, often with the help of various faiths' clerics.
More specifically, the exception was the Iberian Peninsula! Just prior to the Coming of True Blood, two families intermarried there: de Vivar and de Diaz. According to the marriage contract, the representative of the de Vivar family, who was already well-known as El Cid, the people's protector, became the head of the new family. Back then, this title signified a defender of Christians against the Arabs.
El Cid wasn't a sensum, but his innate Talent was indeed unique. He could enhance the abilities of sensums by a whole level! The Dark family de Diaz was quick to appreciate the benefits. Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar became a rallying point in the resistance against the New Power. Under his banner, ordinary people, noble families untouched by the Coming of True Blood, and even shapeshifters personally loyal to El Cid gathered. Moreover, Dark Adepts from across Europe were drawn to him. Regardless of their self-centered nature, the allure of becoming significantly stronger was so compelling that they willingly pledged their loyalty to the Last King of Men. This was especially true when the alternatives were physical annihilation or perpetual concealment.
First, Aragon was liberated from shapeshifter rule. Then Castile was cleansed. Surprisingly, halfway through completely freeing Spain, El Cid retreated to a monastery for nearly a year. Yet, his absence didn't hinder his army from conquering the entire Iberian Peninsula and preparing an offensive against France.
However...
Upon his return, the King carried out the First Treaty. The de Diaz clan, loyal to him, joined forces with the Holy See and rid the victorious army of Dark adepts from other families. Subsequently, power over Spain was handed to the shapeshifters who had served El Cid.
It was an unforeseen turn of events, seemingly without any prior indications.
What's it like to be on the verge of victory, only to suddenly alter everything? To essentially sign a surrender when you're winning? Absurd? Not quite. In the monastery, El Cid had a clear vision, or rather made a calculation, of the ramifications of his victory. He then compared this outcome with the changes brought about by the shapeshifters.
He compared and chose.
He chose his own defeat.
He chose to subject ordinary people to the True Blood.
He chose a Treaty.
Because the alternative was far worse. Even horrific.
The victory of the alliance led by El Cid wouldn't just represent the defeat of the shapeshifters, but also the downfall of ordinary people. After the defeat of True Blood, who would be at the top of the "food chain"? Exactly - the Dark Adepts. For the first time, they had unified, experienced what real power felt like, beyond just ruling a small town. They would never relinquish this power to ordinary people after the victory. Nothing would revert back to normal; things wouldn't be the same. The world had changed.
The choice was straightforward: who would be the victor at the end of the all-out war - shapeshifters or the Dark Ones? And El Cid made his decision. He opted for a future with shapeshifters because this future held potential for growth. The "future shrouded in Darkness" meant no future.
An endless medieval period.
An eternal Dark Age.
No large nations, only small entities, each led by an almost immortal energy vampire. No science, no culture; they were unnecessary for the livestock upon which they fed. A relentless hunt for the Light Ones and their destruction. A nightmare? No, it's a reality. Sitting beside me is a Dark One, over two hundred years old, and that's nowhere near the limit. It's not a fairy tale; it's a terrifying reality that would have come to pass if El Cid had triumphed.
Sadly, ordinary people could never have won that war. Not a chance. Faced with two evils, he - I - chose the one that offered a way out of the darkness. Now, as I sit on a bench in a city of millions, looking up at a passenger plane soaring high in the sky, I can see that his - my - decision was the right one.
This understanding, this memory, surfaced in my mind suddenly, fully, and comprehensively. It consumed me, enveloped me, saturated my every sensation, and then receded like the tide, leaving behind only a sense of emptiness and realization.
I watched the plane until it vanished behind a tall building, then slowly turned my gaze to the legate. It seems there's still a vestige of El Cid within me as the planet's most powerful Dark Adept couldn't bear my stare - his shoulders sagged, and he lowered his head.
"Sire..." His lips barely formed the word.
"Eternal Darkness over the world was an alternative to the First Treaty. The choice was between being ruled by those with power like yours or submitting to shapeshifters. Having already encountered the Dark adepts here, Eshin's allies, I see that the choice was the correct one."
"I understand," Abel straightened his shoulders. "Believe me, Sire, I am not pleased with, as you say, those with power like mine. But I assure you, the de Diaz line is different from the rest of the Dark Ones in many ways. Our word is unbreakable, and our loyalty has never been questioned in almost a millennium. This is the code that keeps us human and prevents us from becoming monsters."
"I don't doubt it!"
"Sire."
"Yes?" He hadn't left. He was still sitting on the bench, which meant he needed something more, so I nudged the legate with this single word.
"The Treaty..." He seemed to struggle with the word. "It's not as simple as it seems, Sire."
"Go on." I had a strong feeling that he was about to tell me something I wouldn't like at all, but I couldn't just cover my ears. Not now.
"As the legend says: 'The Treaty was signed, and the World accepted it.'"
"Yes, that's right."
"But what does 'The World accepted' mean, Sire?"
"After the Coming of True Blood, the world was in turmoil," I recalled the tales of Zanh Kiem. "Subtle energies were disrupted, threatening the planet with a global catastrophe. This was due to the Cataclysm, which introduced a new Power. A Power that clashed with the pre-existing ones. The Treaty pacified the world by establishing new laws."
"The laws that placed common people in a subordinate position to the shapeshifters, Sire," Abel de Diaz interjected, seemingly unnecessary.
"Right! But the alternative would have been far worse," I retorted firmly.
"That's not the point, Sire," the Legate of the Holy See countered, shaking his head.
"Go on."
"Everyone seems to overlook one detail. Some intentionally, some out of habit, others deem this detail insignificant, and some, like the Light Ones, simply can't comprehend it due to the nature of their Power." I couldn't grasp the last part, but I didn't interrupt and continued to listen. "Specifically, what does it mean that the world has accepted the laws that put ordinary people under the command of shapeshifters? How was it implemented? Did a phantom appear before every person on the planet with a contract to sign?"
"No." I had never pondered this question, and now I found myself without an answer.
"How and by whom were these new rules enforced?"
"The Creators?" It was the only possibility that occurred to me.
"At that time, they couldn't unite their forces, and even when they did, such a feat was beyond their capabilities, Sire."
Perhaps he was expecting me to suggest another option, but I remained silent, prompting the Dark One to continue.
"The phrase 'The World has accepted the Treaty' should be taken literally, Sire. The World accepted the new game rules and transformed accordingly. Our World is alive, not in the way we understand life, but it is alive and capable of change." As a bearer of the awakened Spark, I had always sensed something similar, subtle yet persistent.
"Thank you for the clarification." His words were intriguing, but I sensed he was building towards something, and that slightly unnerved me.
"After the Treaty, the World's rules altered, and the new rules subjugated ordinary people to the shapeshifters. Sire... Sire... I see you've realized... I apologize, Sire. But someone had to reveal the truth to you. Common people are oblivious to the Treaty. Shapeshifters hardly ever consider it. The Light Ones see no problem. They fail to notice because their Power is granted by the World, and what the World deems right, they also perceive as right, even natural. Not because they're evil or indifferent, but because 'what is natural is not ugly.'"
"Did I understand correctly? Is the subjugation of people to shapeshifters embedded in the world at the level of Law?" I struggled to catch my breath.
"It's not as definitive as that, subtle energies are still 'subtle,' but generally, yes, Sire. Of course, there are exceptions - there always are. Nine out of ten antelopes, as soon as a lion's fangs close around them, immediately cease to struggle, accepting their fate. But one out of ten fights until the very end, sometimes even managing to escape."
"I understand the analogy." I managed to reply.
"I will respect whatever decision you make regarding the Second Treaty, Sire." The legate rose from his seat and bowed. "But before you make any decisions, you must be fully informed, so I took the liberty of disturbing you. Please forgive my intrusion, Sire."
"You did the right thing, legate."
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the emotional weight, and when I opened them again, Abel de Diaz was gone. The remainder of my ice cream ended up in the trash can.
My heart was heavy.
I felt bad.
Terrible.