The southern embankment of Wilflaes is one of the capital's most scenic spots, particularly during sunset. That Sunday, many people strolled along its tranquil lanes, segregated from the bustling traffic. I was simply meandering through this throng, lost in my thoughts, barely noticing the surrounding splendor.
An hour earlier, I had been politely but firmly dismissed from the cardinal's office by the Makers. Apparently, my incessant questions and clarifications had been deemed distracting. I could have disregarded their opinion and stayed, but it struck me as immature, and I chose not to interfere. Besides, they were formulating a strategy to introduce my proposition to the heads of states, and it was not in my best interest to hinder them at such a crucial juncture.
To accommodate the new plan, Oliver de Sancy had even decided to shorten his sermon from an hour and a half to fifty minutes, leaving the remaining time for Zanh Kiem's speech. Their discussion on the sermon and speech texts, which occasionally delved into metaphorical allegories, inevitably piqued my curiosity. The two high-ranking clerics had tolerated me for about forty minutes before they shared a look, exchanged nods, and collectively asked me to take a leave until the next day. They reasoned that it would be beneficial for me to contemplate my own speech for tomorrow, which they insisted they should not preview. They didn't elaborate on their peculiar stance.
And so, I found myself strolling along the embankment. Why here specifically? I couldn't say. After exiting the Cathedral of St. Sigismund, I first swapped Metatron for casual attire. Then... Then, I felt adrift, unsure of where to go or what to do. I hadn't planned a detailed speech for the kings, just a few phrases, sentences - that was the extent of it. This sense of uncertainty had led me here.
I could have chosen from a myriad of other destinations: my home, for instance, or the university, yet I was drawn to this crowded embankment on a weekend evening. Perhaps I sought to lose myself in the crowd, to blend in. To feel like an insignificant piece in the vast human mosaic. I don't know... I had arrived here without giving it much thought. For so long, I had been putting off the Treaty issue, and tomorrow everything would come to a head. Tomorrow, the world would either change, subtly for its inhabitants, but change nonetheless, or it would face monumental upheavals.
Nevertheless, all turmoil paled in comparison to the looming end of the world. Even if I succeeded in altering and rewriting the Treaty, nothing might change for ordinary people in time, as the world might perish prematurely. Unlike the legate, I wasn't confident that I could avert the impending apocalypse.
With this rather grim thought in mind, I had spotted an empty table at an outdoor cafe, sat down, and ordered an ice cream. While waiting for my order, my left palm began to itch. The scar left by the young witch occasionally throbbed, making its presence known. Additionally, this scar had remained with me in the Break. Fortunately, the sleeves of my Projection's robes were long enough that I could easily conceal my hands. However, Claire was incredibly observant, and if she were to notice a scar on Maestro's palm identical to Izao's wound, she might start making unsettling connections and assumptions.
Damn it! Why was I thinking about this now? Did it even matter?
It was a shame I couldn't visit Christian. Seeing him as Maestro would break the raigs' rules, since he wasn't an open Break Knight. Such a visit would have been, to put it mildly, inappropriate. And as Izao, I wouldn't be granted access to the medical wing of the Abode of Knowledge. My only solace was that Zanh Kiem wouldn't lie to me about something like this. I was confident that Christian would recover eventually.
My first spoonful of ice cream made it clear that ordering it was a mistake; due to my anxiety, I could barely taste it. In hindsight, it was probably pointless to come here at all. I should've gone home and tried to get some sleep. I knew it was unlikely that I'd be able to fall asleep easily, but it was worth a shot. With that thought in mind, I pushed the ice cream aside, left the money on the table, and stood up. As I did, I nearly collided with a pair of girls who were so engrossed in their conversation that they would've run me over without noticing. Furthermore, I was familiar with one of them, and if you removed her makeup and changed her hairstyle, the other girl would have looked like her twin.
"I'm not blind-eyed!" Claire retorted through gritted teeth.
"Oh, you know very well that you are!" Her sister didn't bother hiding her mischievous grin.
Somehow they failed to notice me, even though they passed less than half a meter away; they must have been completely engrossed in their conversation. I could have either greeted them or quietly slipped away, but instead, I chose to trail after the girls, hoping to overhear their discussion.
"If that new cafe doesn't live up to your hype..." Claire warned, a threatening tone in her voice. "I'm going to bite you! I'm serious - I'll really bite you! You know how much I hate crowded places!"
"Relax - we're practically there, just fifty more meters," her sister dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "I can't speak for the entire cafe, but I guarantee you they make the best eclairs in the city!"
"Eclairs..." Claire murmured dreamily, tilting her head back. "Uru-ru-ru!"
Suddenly, she halted mid-stride and quickly glanced around. I just managed to sidestep and conceal myself behind the trunk of a palm tree.
"Why are you twitching like that?" Thora asked her, looking bewildered.
"I felt like someone was watching us."
"Just because you're blind-eyed doesn't mean you need to start seeing spies, conspiracies, and all sorts everywhere just to prove me wrong!" Thora laughed at her redhead sister's expense.
"I'm not blind-eyed!" Kael stubbornly reiterated.
Unfortunately, I couldn't hear anything more as the sisters moved further away from me, disappearing into the crowd. It would have been foolish to follow them; these two were sharp enough to notice if they were being eavesdropped on. Mentally wishing the twins a delicious treat, I turned and headed in the opposite direction.
This bizarre encounter significantly lightened my mood. For some reason, after overhearing the girls' exchange, my worries about tomorrow dissolved. I resolved to do everything within my power to execute my plan; if that's not enough, so be it.
I wandered around the city for the remainder of the evening and well into the night. Just before dawn, I returned home and collapsed onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep almost instantly. I was dreaming something so pleasant that it took Zanh Kiem nearly a minute to rouse me with his phone call.
"We're meeting with the kings in four hours, and you're still sleeping?" The Maker wasn't outraged, but rather chuckled at my yawn.
"Couldn't you have called ten minutes later?" I grumbled, genuinely upset.
"What?!" The sensum was confused.
"I was having such a lovely dream, and you interrupted it!"
"Well… Your calmness even in this situation is too much, even for me!" The Maker scoffed over the phone. "How long until you can be at the cathedral?"
"If I just need to put on Metatron, then fifteen minutes should do. But if I have time to grab breakfast..."
"Is half an hour enough for you?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll be waiting for you."
Exactly thirty minutes later, I emerged from the Break into the cardinal's study. The three of us spent almost two hours discussing the specifics and what kind of responses we could expect from various rulers. More accurately, it wasn't so much a discussion as it was two Makers schooling me on the characteristics, perspectives, and habits of the monarchs. After a while, Oliver de Sancy excused himself, as his sermon was set to start sooner. During the remaining time we had for preparation, Zanh Kiem went over the list of kings again, spotlighting the most notable aspects of each of their personalities. Following that, my friend moved to the window and, adjusting his ceremonial attire, inquired:
"Have you finalized your speech?"
"Almost," I responded with a shrug. "There's one problem: how do we make sure the kings don't just bolt? What if I show up in front of them, and they don't even entertain the idea of hearing me out, but just quietly disperse? I'm clueless about what to do in such a scenario. Should I herd them back with kicks from the Break, or what? But that's simply unattainable..."
"No need to fret over that," the Maker sat across from me. "The complex relationships of the ancient clans will ensure they stay put and listen."
"How so?" I was puzzled.
"Watch," the sensum gestured, revealing his wrists as if about to perform a magic trick. "Louis the Nineteenth will definitely stay put. Your appearance violates the rules, and the host is accountable for enforcing those rules. Hence, the French king will stay to irritate the Gluathons. Lair won't be able to leave either, as his departure, when the king of France remains, would be a loss of face and an admission that your presence is his personal blunder as the organizer. If these two stay, Medici will surely not go anywhere either. Can you imagine a representative of their clan leaving a place where they can benefit from the chaos? That's unlikely. Otto the Fourth, the ruler of Austria, won't leave Medici unsupervised. And if the Habsburgs stay, no one else will leave since the remaining kings are either their allies or sworn enemies. So, they'll listen to you, but whether they'll agree with you is another question."
"They won't have a choice." With a slightly malicious grin, I responded to my friend, rising from my chair. "Isn't it about time for you to depart?"
"You're right. It is time."
Less than two hours after our discussion, I observed from the Break the final act of the spectacle orchestrated by Oliver de Sancy and Zanh Kiem. A performance intended to set the stage for my presentation to the leaders of the planet's twenty most powerful nations.
"And just like nine centuries ago..." Zanh Kiem paused, casting a heavy gaze upon the rulers, frozen like stone idols. "Just like when True Blood entered the world, with the rise of a new power, the Break Knights, we need a new Treaty."
The leaders of the twenty foremost states were neither fools nor dullards. Having heard Oliver de Sancy's sermon and the subsequent half-hour speech from the abbot of the Abode of Knowledge, each of them had already deduced how Zanh Kiem would conclude his monologue. Hence, my friend's words did not detonate like a bombshell. The silence that ensued was fleeting.
"We need..." Otto the Fourth, Emperor of Austria, leaned back in his comfortable chair, grinning. "We... who are we referring to, exactly?" He gestured to the rest of the leaders. "We don't particularly need it."
"It's repugnant to admit," the French king concurred, grimacing as though he'd been forced to consume an entire lemon. "But for once, I agree with the Habsburg!"
"But!" Lair Gluathon immediately raised his voice; he could not let the Frenchman's words go unchallenged. "Even if we desired to change something, the Treaty's enactment requires the presence of all parties." The Heir to the throne of Novilter flashed a mock, theatrically melancholic smile. "I only see one side present here. Ours."
"As far as we understand, Sire Lair is correct." Without rising from his seat, the gray-haired van of the Celestial Empire interjected. "Neither you, the abbot of the Knowledge Abode, nor your colleague, the cardinal of Novilter, can speak on behalf of all people or the Break Knights."
Next, the king of Brazil stood, snorting in annoyance before speaking loudly.
"Do you genuinely believe that we need this handout in the form of the current Treaty? We don't rule because of some agreement struck centuries ago! We rule because we are the best! Or, to put it another way, by right of the strongest. And that is the most sacred of all rights!"
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Many monarchs endorsed his words with enthusiastic applause.
"Dear Zanh Kiem." Gluathon spoke again. "The fact that you are the curator of BKDW does not grant you the right to speak on behalf of all the Break Knights. Moreover, BKDW comprises only a tiny fraction of the Knights worldwide, and you yourself are not a Knight."
"On behalf of all people..." Duke Hector Medici of Milan and Naples began, his voice quiet yet heard by all, "only one person, as far as my memory serves, could speak. An engaging book was recently written about him, unfortunately..." He clicked his tongue, "this man has been dead for the same nine centuries that the Treaty has existed. And none of us observed a general plebiscite among the planet's population to choose a new leader of the people."
A few chuckles echoed around the hall.
"We understand..." Otto the Fourth rose from his seat, his tone calm and somewhat soothing, "You are Makers, blessed with great power. But sometimes, this power blinds you, distorting your perception of reality. We, gathered here, respect you immensely as representatives of the Service; therefore, we're ready to overlook what just happened and forget it."
"I'm afraid you misunderstood my words," Zanh Kiem shook his head, "Neither the cardinal of Novilter or I are contracting parties."
"Dealing with the Gifted can be challenging sometimes." The Emperor of Austria sighed heavily while spreading his arms, "However, everyone here knows this all too well from their own experience."
"Fine." Medici nodded to him before continuing, addressing the two Makers, "We understand your grievances; the Treaty and the hierarchy it established are flawed. You know, I even agree with you." He flashed a smile that screamed of a shameless and blatant lie, "If it were up to me, I'd vote for a new, fairer Treaty." His insincerity was palpable, causing a ripple of knowing smiles among many of the rulers, "But my will is inconsequential to this World, as you, abbot, recently mentioned in your speech!"
"Yes, yes, we too support all good things and oppose all bad!" King Leopold the Seventh of Brazil picked up the thread, "Very much against it!" His plump sides shook with suppressed laughter, "But! Since a new Treaty requires three parties, and in reality, there's only one, my wish for justice, alas, will remain unfulfilled." He dramatically wiped away a faux tear with a pristine handkerchief, "We're incredibly sorry. And a unilateral breach of the Treaty, as you've enlightened us, would trigger a global slaughter, which my Majesty could never allow. No way. At all!"
"We wouldn't even mind if the Servants of all faiths were to organize the election of their universal leader by all people." Medici's smile was more like a predatory grin. "If such a plebiscite is even possible, of course. The question remains, however, how the Break Knights, with their secrecy and reluctance to reveal their identities, will be able to select their king. But..." The Duke glanced at Zanh Kiem with a smirk. "You, abbot, wouldn't have raised this question without having an answer, I assume."
The tension that had filled the hall following the speeches of the two Makers dissipated with these words. It was replaced by an atmosphere of mild annoyance, reminiscent of being forced to watch a disappointing circus act or a failed jester's trick.
"So, I, the cardinal of Novilter, under the auspices of the First Angel..." The previously silent Oliver de Sancy stepped forward. "I can trust that everyone here is open to discussing the establishment of the New Treaty."
The emperor of Austria rose from his seat once again. This time, there was no trace of a smile on his face. He was extremely serious and clearly taken aback by the cardinal's mention of the First Angel.
"We have no objections. As soon as we are presented with LEGITIMATE representatives from the other two parties," he said, his words heavy with the unspoken implication of "which is fundamentally impossible!"
"I agree," the representative from the Celestial Empire and Lair Gluathon both stated, rising to their feet.
This sentiment was echoed more and more, until finally Hector Medici, not wanting to be the odd one out, reluctantly agreed, "I concur."
It's no surprise that this clan is renowned for their uncanny sense of danger. Medici was the only one who sensed a trap but chose to ignore his instincts and stand with the rest.
"We are all very busy people," Zanh Kiem said with a wide smile. "So let's not delay what can be done today!"
With that, my friend took a step aside.
"Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!"
Regrettably, the vibrant and strong-willed Lair Gluathon was not an exception. In this world, the ruling clans hadn't degenerated; each person at this meeting deservedly held a prominent position in their country. All their smiles, grins, feigned happiness, and relaxation vanished the moment I materialized. A second passed and standing before me were not pampered lords confident in their infallibility, but twenty top predators ready to pounce at any moment. Or rather, twenty minus one. Lair Gluathon, in contrast, seemed to relax. A knowing smile crossed his face, as if he had suddenly seen the full picture. He was the only one who calmly sat back down and didn't remain standing.
"Greetings to the worthy," I said, adhering to the ancient ritual.
"Maestro..." Hector Medici sighed, as if suffering a toothache, instead of offering a return greeting.
Naturally, none of the rulers, save for Lair, had seen me in person before. However, my image and globally renowned armor, after my "battle" with the Maker, were undoubtedly recognizable to them.
"Do we understand correctly?" The Emperor of Austria stepped back and drawled, directing his question towards the Makers. "Break Knight Maestro, so unexpectedly presenting himself before us, represents the side that calls itself raigs?"
Three unfamiliar female voices answered the emperor, instead of Oliver de Sancy or Zanh Kiem:
"Break Knight Maestro has the right to speak for most of the Break Knights."
These voices were distinct, yet they spoke in unison. I turned around to see three young women standing behind my left shoulder. Their attire was plain, as if hastily put together. Travel clothes, casual dresses, and an airline ticket from Jakarta conspicuously protruding from one of their purses. The only commonality among them - they were all pregnant.
"The World confirms the given right of the Break Knight Maestro. We, the unborn Voices of the World, are saying this!"
How did these young women get here? How did they bypass all the guards? How did I not notice them before? And not just myself, but everyone else, including the Makers?!
Wait.
What just happened? Who was I thinking about?
The same perplexity was etched on the faces of everyone else. The king of France was the first to regain his composure.
"Fine! We recognize Maestro's right to speak for the Break Knights. But there is one... minor detail. We don't see the King of Men before us!"
"Allow me to introduce," Zanh Kiem stepped forward and, gesturing towards me, declared, "Break Knight Maestro, the reincarnation of Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar, el Cid. Esteemed rulers, before you stands the Last King of Men, reborn!"
There had been numerous objections on the tip of the tongues of the world's most powerful rulers, but yet again the three female voices behind me interjected.
"We confirm. The one who calls himself Maestro was Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar in one of his past lives. We, the unborn Voices of the World, recognize the King of Men in him."
I didn't know why, but I was certain of these three young women's right to be anywhere. Absolutely certain. And everything they said was true. And anyone who would dare to contradict their voices... They would first need to find another planet because these three spoke on behalf of the World itself, or rather, not themselves, but the World spoke through their unborn children. Through those who, once born, would be known as the Creators.
A second passed, and I, along with everyone else in the room it seemed, disregarded the women standing next to me. More accurately, "disregard" might not be the right word; we remembered them, but their presence felt natural, unobtrusive, and somewhat peripheral. As if they should be overlooked. But everything they said was taken by everyone as a ruling from the highest court.
"Well..." Otto the Fourth began, shaking his head and stepping back. "You've certainly surprised us. We've witnessed Gifted individuals lose touch with reality, submerged in their visions. We assumed this was the case..."
"Going by the smirk on your face, Cardinal," Medici interjected as soon as the Emperor of Austria fell silent. "You were banking on us believing you were 'lost.'" The Duke of Milan and Naples started clapping his hands for emphasis. "Congratulations, you played your part admirably. You've even managed to coax us into discussing the New Treaty!" Hector Medici gave a thumbs up. "However! We didn't promise to sign this New Treaty. Our agreement was solely for discussion, nothing more!" The Duke settled into his chair and gestured invitingly with his hand. "Convince me and everyone else here of the necessity. After all, by your own admission, to enact a new Treaty, consent from all parties is required!" His smile was sly, snake-like. "I'm all ears!"
"Yes, yes! Convince us!" Leopold the Seventh chimed in, his smile seemingly genuine. It appeared he was even pleased with this turn of events. If I remembered Zanh Kiem's instructions correctly, Leopold was one of those who were wearied by everything and delighted with any event that disrupted his usual routine. Following Medici, Otto, and Leopold, the rest of the rulers took their seats. Zanh Kiem and Oliver de Sancy had played their parts; now it was my turn.
I stepped forward.
"Rights. Treaties. Written Laws," I began, selecting the right intonation; after my initial word, even the slightest noise in the hall died down. "All of these are nothing more than a smokescreen. Dust." My voice rang out, sharp and clear as a bare steel blade. "Because there is only one true Law, one unalterable Right."
With that said, I entered the Break, shifted four meters forward in Sliding, and emerged back into reality. In an instant, I was no longer at the podium but hovering over the chair where the king of Brazil sat.
"Isn't that so?" I questioned him.
I chose him because he himself had declared this right, personally, mere minutes ago. Leopold the Seventh might have given the outward impression of a spoilt, overweight man, but anyone who mistook him for a weakling or a fool was gravely mistaken. Even now, he didn't flinch from me; there was no fear. His fangs elongated, his gaze sharpened, and he uttered one word:
"Yes."
I took a demonstrative step back and addressed all the rulers at once, "And who owns this Right now?"
Silence was my only answer. They knew what I was talking about but couldn't voice it. To do so would contradict their very nature, their upbringing, their blood.
"What is Power?"
Once again, my question hung in the air unanswered. Medici hadn't meant 'persuasions' in this sense when he'd spoken his words. But I didn't care about his expectations.
"Alright... What is True Power?"
For a moment, it seemed Otto the Fourth was ready to answer, yet he remained quiet.
"Silence. Well, I will answer myself." Another blink, and I continued to speak, appearing behind their backs. "The power to destroy a thing is the absolute control over it[1]. This is True Power."
Several rulers twitched in their seats at these words but stayed put, making no attempt to escape. They weren't fools; each of them understood perfectly well that they couldn't escape from a raig. Not a single one of them!
"And no, I'm not saying I'm going to kill you all here and now. Kill and go unpunished." Another shift through the Break, and I was back near the podium. "I can, but I won't."
"Because it won't solve anything, Sire." Without rising, Lair Gluathon answered me calmly.
His statement was so unexpected that all the other rulers shifted their gaze from me to the Heir of Novilter. What surprised them was not his speech but his final word. By recognizing me as an equal in front of everyone present, the future duke calmly withstood their gazes. And this calmness changed a lot.
Turning back to me, the rulers now viewed me differently, not as a dangerous psychopath, but as an equal, as a king who currently happened to be stronger than them. And they were more than familiar with this position.
"It won't solve anything," I agreed with Lair. "But I can also easily destroy the world you know. How will I do it?" A snap of my fingers had rung out like thunder. "Just as easily." I explained, "As a full representative of one of the parties to the First Treaty, I can cancel this Treaty! Break it here and now! And what will happen next... The abbot of the Abode of Knowledge recently described it to you in vivid detail. And I hope none of you thought that the esteemed Maker was exaggerating."
My response was a profound silence. They all understood that Zanh Kiem's speech somewhat understated the repercussions of a looming total civil war.
I paused, but before I could continue, Lair Gluathon rose from his seat. I nodded, inviting him to speak.
"And what is your view on the New Treaty, sir?"
Only two words left my lips:
"Equal rights."
For almost a minute, the entire hall was plunged into silence; it seemed the rulers were waiting for me to elaborate, but there was no more to add - I had said what I needed to.
"Pardon me..." Hector Medici was the first to break the silence. "Equal rights and... What else?"
"Nothing," my voice sounded slightly weary.
"But equality is an illusion!" Medici threw up his hands in a typically Italian gesture. "An ordinary person can never be equal to someone who has awakened True Blood! Even among ordinary people, there isn't equality! Some people have perfect pitch, and some don't. The first can join a philharmonic society and play the violin, but the second can't! No matter how hard they try!"
"That's a shallow perspective," I responded curtly and proceeded to explain. "It's petty to confuse words. Equality and equal rights are different concepts, meaning different things. If we go by your example, then according to the principle of equal rights, the second person, the one who is tone-deaf, can still apply to join a philharmonic society. They have the right to do so! The fact that they won't be accepted into it, due to their lack of musical hearing - that's a separate issue and has nothing to do with equal rights."
I concluded my speech, now standing behind the Duke of Milan and Naples. This display of raig abilities made Medici sink back into his chair. And he did so silently.
"Under the First Treaty, ordinary people are inherently subordinate," I raised my voice again. "I demand the establishment of a New Treaty. A treaty in which, from birth, all people of our World will have equal rights. It doesn't matter what a person becomes in the future: a baker, a teacher, a miner, a sensum, or a shapeshifter, awakening True Blood. Or even... a Break Knight! It doesn't matter. Everyone should have the same rights from the start. As for the equality of abilities mentioned by the Duke of Milan and Naples, I acknowledge the impossibility of such. All people are different. We all have different strengths and weaknesses. And you can't put an equals sign between any two people, even twins! And in its own way, that's a beautiful thing."
Without using the Break, I approached the king of Brazil.
"You recently claimed that you are in power because you are the best."
"And we stand by our words!" King Leopold the Seventh retorted stubbornly.
"It must be convenient to govern and consider yourself superior to those who, according to the First Treaty, are obliged to be subservient to you. It's quite handy, isn't it..."
"No!" The king snapped back. "We don't rule because of some Treaty! We rule because we are superior!"
"Really? Then prove it!" I couldn't conceal my grin. "Sign a New Treaty! And if your clan maintains power under equal rights, then you are indeed the best and rule because of it!"
"I have no doubt in my clan!" Rising to his feet, Leopold the Seventh towered over me, a looming figure.
Despite his obese body, standing at two meters tall and weighing one and a half hundred kilograms, he dwarfed me, Izao, who was relatively short. The contrast between his fury and my tranquility was even more striking.
"Words, words, words..." I repeated thrice. "Even a thousand words cannot compare to a single piece of evidence."
Break. Sliding. Reality.
Once again, I stood at the podium and glanced at the large wall clock.
"You have until nine in the evening to decide."
"Half an hour?!" Exclaimed Hector Medici, taken aback.
"That's more than enough!" Having said that, I exited the room.
The Makers followed suit.
[1] AN: Maestro's words are a direct quote from F. Herbert's "Dune."