grievinglands
patreon
Book 5: Chapter 14 - The End of the Game (RAW)
🕑 Added 2024-12-23 23:29:53 +0000 UTCThe Water Crystal Garden of the Rabahalim of Al-Lazar is a profound work of art that beckons the mind toward deeper contemplation. Thirteen Zajasite crystals are arranged so that, from any vantage point, one crystal always remains hidden. This subtle configuration serves as a reminder of our flawed perception and the enduring truth that something vital is always just out of sight.
Of course, all that I saw was a collection of rocks haphazardly arranged on a bed of raked pebbles.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
“Too long have we averted our eyes from the gods, hoping they would not turn their gaze upon us. But now their attention is fixed on us—make no mistake. We stand at a Confluence of fate, where critical decisions must be made for the future of our city! By my right as the head of one of the founding Holder houses of Al-Lazar, I invoke Arbitration and name my Tamkar, Gilgamesh, to speak on our behalf. Who will stand against us?” the young girl declared, her voice resolute.
A man with a neatly waxed black beard, gently stroking a small white snake, spoke up. “The Lahal are neutral in this matter.”
“You would remain neutral on such an important issue, Riza?” the old man Kesken cried out, his composure fraying before the Council.
“We only care that our harvest remains undisturbed. Peace with the Mer will spare our coffers,” Riza of the Lahal replied. “The Lahal have no interest in the riches of the City of the Old Ones.”
“The Rabahalim also choose neutrality,” added the councilor with the shrill voice, nodding toward Aelayah.
It seemed he had been part of Aelayah’s theater all along—another one of her hidden supporters.
All eyes in the chamber turned to Kanaia, the only Council member who might stand a chance against me. She shrugged and leapt down, landing as lightly as a cat.
“I will represent the will of the Council,” she declared, her confidence unwavering. “Unless anyone here wishes to take my place?”
Silence followed.
“I see the gods at work,” Aelayah said, breaking the stillness.
“Oh, you do, do you?” Kanaia crossed her arms. “There are more ways to win than there are leaves in the forest, Aelayah. I’m curious—where has this sudden wellspring of faith come from?” She rubbed her chin, her gaze fixed on Aelayah. “Was it your brush with death, or perhaps someone in your ‘Great House’ has finally heard the song of Mana and confused it for the voice of the gods?”
“When miracles happen, what else can we call them but miracles?” Aelayah retorted. “We’re entering a new age. Now, name your terms of engagement!”
Kanaia shrugged. “I’ve told you before, Aelayah, there are countless ways to secure victory. I care little for politics or the city’s daily affairs; they only slow my progress. But you—you drink it all down as if it were your mother’s milk.” She motioned to the other Council members, a faint smirk on her lips.
“We cannot afford further weakness,” Kanaia continued, her tone growing sharper. “Rumors say the Empire and Aranthia are plotting against us, and we must face that threat with a united front. Better you than these… men,” she sneered. “I know when I’m beaten, and I’m not too proud to admit it.”
“What is this, Kanaia? What are you plotting?” demanded the man who had been smoking a waterpipe, his feathered turban now askew.
“Order!” Kesken barked, trying to restore calm. He had nearly lost control of the assembly.
“That is precisely it,” Kanaia replied with a light shrug. “They only address me by my title when it suits them. I’ve been too long distracted from my true calling—my greatest joy. You may have the Alim’s full support, but I have conditions.”
“Let us hear them,” Aelayah said, her voice bright with anticipation.
Kanaia narrowed her eyes. “He must leave the city—your precious new foreign Tamkar.”
“Don’t listen to her,” I roared. “She’s only trying to sow doubt in your mind.”
“Order!” Kesken repeated, though his command fell on deaf ears.
Kanaia cast me a mocking glance. “This is rich, coming from someone who lost to me. Aelayah, recall how he ran from me under the pretense of ‘saving you.’ You were well-guarded anyway; that was merely the Council’s test to gauge your mettle. Had we truly wanted you dead, we would have done it.”
“Lying harlot!” I shouted.
“Harlot?” Kanaia echoed, shaking her head. “Is that the best insult your limited vocabulary can muster? Anyone hurling insults like that has nothing of substance to say.”
She played idly with her hair, an unmistakable provocation if ever there was one.
“Think about it, Aelayah. Perhaps he could defeat me—but I wasn’t fighting at full strength. Even if he did manage it, you would never gain the Alim’s support. The other Houses would challenge your rule, unless we stand together. Just think about it: true authority, not just a feeble shadow of it.”
“Perhaps there’s truth in what you say,” Aelayah replied, “but I want to see you beaten first. We have rules and forms to observe. Since you offer no answer, you’ll fight with whatever weapons and equipment you have on hand. Gilgamesh—begin!”
“With pleasure,” I snarled, baring my teeth.
My hammer rose, tracing a wide arc through the air as I channeled every bit of my murderous intent into an Improved Rush Strike. Kanaia moved swiftly, flipping back and evading the blow.
“You were always the fiery one, Aelayah. All right, I yield,” Kanaia said at last, her tone sharp with reluctant resignation.
“Then by the laws of Arbitration, I have won, and my demands stand as law...” To my own surprise, it seemed far too easy.
“You conniving vixens—this was your plan from the start!” Kesken shouted, face reddening. He sprang to his feet and thrust an accusing finger in the air.
The other Council members worriedly looked at him. It felt as if the room was reaching a boiling point.
“This is most irregular,” someone muttered, though I couldn’t tell who.
For some reason, it deflated the heightened tension within the room.
Aelayah, the head of the Salahaem Holder House, smiled, supremely confident in her victory. “Lord Kesken, we have reached Consensus through valor. If you further sully these hallowed halls with such accusations, I’ll see you branded a traitor, your assets seized, and you exiled into the desert to live your days among the barbarian tribes. I am the Sultana of Al-Lazar now. Aelayah the First.”
The Council Guards bristled, ready to draw their weapons at a moment’s notice, although it would have done them little good.
“As for you, Kanaia,” Aelayah continued, “don’t think me foolish enough to discard one of the daggers I hold at your throat. Defy me, and I will have my Tamkar…” She left the threat in the air.
“Very well, Lady Aelayah, dear,” Kanaia replied. “I’ll abide—for now.” She bowed, then shot me a venomous glare. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss matters further.”
No doubt that vixen was already plotting her next move.
*****
Again, the Salahaem estate—known as the Place of the Dancing Water, or Mahdi Al-Maraquis—was in an uproar as word of the Council’s forced decision spread among the servants and staff. Although I stood above such rumors, my trust in Aelayah wavered slightly, disturbed by how eagerly she had embraced Kanaia’s obvious ploy. Still, she had not actually fallen for it; yet I could not shake the feeling that it had been a near thing.
I closed my eyes, letting Elenora work scented oils into my shoulders. Her gentle ministrations soothed me as I lay face-down, recounting my version of recent events.
“The memories of those in power are short,” she said softly. “Their grace is fleeting. May I offer you some advice?”
“Go on,” I replied. “Another perspective can only help.” Her hands were almost magical, kneading away tension along my back. They drifted lower, stirring a flicker of lust within me.
“She will do whatever benefits her and her House,” Elenora continued. “You deserve to be rewarded; demand it now, before she forgets. I sense that Lady Aelayah will set you aside the moment it suits her. True, you are a dagger at the throats of both the Council and the Alim, but you’re also a dagger at hers. If she accepts the Alim’s... proposal, she’ll negotiate the best possible terms—anything from more favorable Dust trade rights to a marriage alliance. The Alim has unmarried brothers, after all.”
She paused, and her voice grew contemplative. “You spoke of a dagger at the Alim’s throat. If they gave Aelayah a different, more appealing ‘dagger’ in a gesture of submission, that might sway her decision…”
A chill ran through me. Elenora had a point. My earlier pleasure at her massage soured to unease. I turned, growling as I pulled the golden-haired woman closer, staring into her emerald eyes in search of lies or ulterior motives.
“But why would Aelayah do that?” I asked in a low voice, her warmth pressing against me.
“Because, Gil, darling, you’re difficult to control,” she purred. “So young, so spirited…”
I caught her scent—rosewood and vanilla—and her hand wandered lower, teasingly close to my groin.
“Make your demands now, Gilgamesh, while that wallflower still remembers you. Ask for a price she’s willing to pay…”
“And what about your price, Elenora?” I asked, yanking her into a tight embrace. She resisted briefly, displaying surprising strength.
“It’s a price I doubt you can afford,” she teased with a coy smile. “Now, tell me: what is it you truly want?”
“I already have it in my hands,” I said, grabbing her rear, prompting a shrill, playful protest.
After a moment of licentious fumbling, I paused. “What I want is Distilled Dust.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Distilled Dust? Why would you need that? You couldn’t possibly consume it—it’d kill even you!”
“I’ve been told it’s needed to forge a path toward immortality,” I admitted. “Though the one person who could have crafted such a potion has died…”
“Magister Vincenzio?” she asked, eyes downcast.
All thought of pleasure vanished as we considered his fate.
“Yes,” I said flatly.
Elenora’s look grew somber rather than playful. “He was a good man. Tell me, how did he—”
“He died well,” I lied. The man had died like a dog that needed to be put down.
She pressed against me, our mood now wholly subdued. “If I left the Salahaem’s service—and this city—would you take me with you?” I asked softly.
Stupid, I thought to myself. I already knew the answer before she answered me. Wisdom had taught me that much at least.
“Do you want a comforting lie, or the honest truth, young Gilgamesh?” she murmured, resting her cheek on my shoulder.
“I’m sick of lies, no matter how pretty. The truth unvarnished,” I said, my brow furrowed.
“This is my home, Gil. You’re asking me to give my entire trust to a man who thrives on violence. Besides, I’m not alone. There is Theophania—can you really be a father to her? I appreciate all you’ve done, but I know you don’t love me. I simply can’t…”
“I’m sorry I asked,” I growled. “Then I’ll just enjoy what I can, while I can. We had best make this last!”
She smiled, her hands drifting over me again, eyes glinting with renewed mischief. “That almost sounds like a challenge.”
And for the moment, all concerns about the future drowned beneath the heated rush of our entanglement.
