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129. The vote
🕑 Added 2025-12-08 22:43:02 +0000 UTCWe arrived at the gathering early in the morning and took our seats. Apparently, according to the cat, the previous show of strength helped secure some of the more uncertain groups, and if nothing changed, we would win by seven points.
That wasn’t a landslide victory, but with 300 votes to be distributed among hundreds of groups, it was a relatively sure win, with five the maximum number of votes any one party could hold.
We went on to the gathering hall and all took our seats. After everyone was in place, the Pope asked if anyone would like to speak before voting.
We all looked around, but no one got up to give another speech.
I frowned at that.
I expected the noble or Church forces to make a last-ditch effort by either promising untold things or trying to threaten people into their side, but they stayed seated. They should be able to count the votes just as well as Q’Shar. They had brokers of their own, so why the lack of reaction? I would have assumed they'd given up, but I’ve seen people let go of their goals, and it didn’t look like this. No, they looked sure of themselves—a bit too much for my liking.
“Something’s wrong,” the cat whispered, gazing at their section.
“I expected some desperate attempt at least. Your network got nothing?”
“Everything was silent throughout the night.”
The cat’s frown deepened, his eyes glued to the noble section, which pretended we didn’t exist. After a short opening speech, the Pope finally proposed the vote to begin. It was public, with him calling out people or groups by name and having them give their votes. As the two propositions could not coexist, it was made official that the win of one of them would block the other.
But then something we didn’t predict happened.
The first to be called was the Aquientie family—a long-standing ally of ours, representing a part of the Third Chamber, with a history of curse magic on par with that of the Egyptian death priests.
Their representative got up and, not looking in our direction, gave their vote for the Church’s proposition. This caused a murmur to spread over the hall. They represented other smaller curse-using clans, with a total of five votes.
“Sooomething’s fucked up,” Myhur spoke from behind me.
“We should still be up by two,” Q’Shar whispered.
“Mhm,” I said, but I knew the same thing Q’Shar knew. If they could calculate just as well, then it meant something had happened that, in their eyes, guaranteed the church a win. The family of the girl I cursed didn’t approach us, but got the message—in the end, instead of voting for us, they simply withheld their voice.
“Strange strategy, but I predicted that,” the cat said, only light disappointment in his voice.
Only around the end of the proceedings did the real hit come. Aside from the Aquientie clan, the rest went according to our predictions—and the remaining part should have been basically set in stone.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth. It was the turn of the Dark Elves who held two votes. Their man stood up and, in a weak voice, named the Church’s proposition. I saw surprise in many of the other demihuman clans, some clearly angry.
Q’Shar went pale. “They are up by two,” he said, each word said in a painful tone.
I looked at the cat, noticing I had never seen him this scared, his eyes wide and breath quickened. I saw that the older woman holding him also looked worried as she began massaging his back. He looked like he was having a panic attack.
But that didn’t change the fact that now we would be losing the vote.
Many people looked around, throwing hateful gazes toward the two traitor groups. Some within those families were also looking to their leaders with the same mixture of surprise and hatred, angry at being made traitors. They would probably soon lose much of their voting power as the groups come apart, but because their case wasn't presented during the days of justice, that wouldn’t affect the current proposition.
“What now?” Luna whispered from behind me, her voice slightly shaky.
“We will have to adjust our plans—and by a wide margin,” William said, leaning in our direction. “Some of them have to be completely redrawn or thrown out.”
“Can’t we crack ‘em skulls?” Darius asked.
“As much as I would like that, no,” I said with deep sadness in my voice. “But it’s not over yet.”
“It looks like it is—the remaining votes are churches and their close organisations,” William said.
“We… we lost,” Q’Shar whispered. “The rest will go to the Church’s proposal… We lost.”
“Couldn’t I challenge someone or give a speech?” Ophelia said, unsure. “The priest said new factions would look up to me—maybe next time we can change that?”
“No!” Q’Shar answered before we could say anything. “A loss is a loss. We are not turning this one around. Don’t you understand?” He looked at us, eyes wide, breath quickened. “There is no turning back or lifting the law. The Church faction won,” he snapped at us.
Even I was surprised by the state he was in. I knew he had plans on plans and schemes within schemes, but this type of reaction was unusual. I had never seen him actually panicked.
“Theeee cycle flows like a river—it is foolish to fight its tide. No use—”
“We aren’t fighting a tide. It just covered us, and the water is pouring into our lungs! I don’t know how we’re supposed to—”
“The Brazil cat faction alongside the Church will withhold its vote,” I heard a feline voice I recognized. Looking to the side, I saw Eman, the broker from Brazil, nod at me lightly.
A stir went over the gathering at the unexpected turn of events. The Brazilian Church was large enough to cast one vote by itself, and they had another one from their sizeable broker network.
“Surprise!” I shouted at Q’Shar, proud of my political accomplishments.
“W-What?” the cat stammered.
“I thought that might happen,” I said.
There was another murmur in the hall.
“The outcome is—” The Pope shouted before I could explain to the cat and hit his crosier hard into the floor. “Two hundred and forty-two total votes were gathered, with fifty withholding their votes and eight votes dismissed due to lack of representation and legal punishments. And the outcome is one hundred and twenty-one votes for the exorcists’ motion and one hundred and twenty-one for the Church’s motion. It’s a tie.”
The Pope’s voice echoed through the room. This time around, everyone was surprised. All the factions looked around, confused, not sure what to do with that information. The High Judge actually had to go to a hefty tome, flip through it, then go to the Pope and whisper something in his ear so the man would know what to do.
“As such! The vote is postponed till tomorrow. Each party has time to reconsider its proposition and introduce any changes before midnight. If any changes are made, you will have one day to discuss the propositions once again, and then we will repeat the vote. If no change happens, it will be on the Pope’s authority to choose the winning side.”
And another hit with the crosier to the floor announced a sudden end to today’s proceedings.
There was silence as we returned to our room. I started to worry as I looked at Q’Shar. His gaze was unfocused in the arms of the old cat lady. She looked like she was carrying a stiff cat toy rather than a living animal.
“Leave us. I’ll call you when we are done,” I said to the rest of the group.
I saw that William was about to argue, but something in my eyes must have persuaded him otherwise, as he finally nodded and turned around, taking the rest with him. The cat lady also went, leaving us in the cat’s luxurious room.
“Are you—” I started, but Q’Shar cut me off.
“Why didn’t you tell me Brazil might withhold its vote?” snapped the cat.
“I wasn’t sure of it. I left them with a clue about the miracle bringers and helped with their priest. Eman must have figured out that it was the miracle bringers who had infiltrated. So, his leaving a gate open to switch sides wasn’t out of the question. But for him to make a move this big, they must have found something nasty within the church.”
“Yes. But you could have said something. You could have warned me, or—or, I don’t know, but for fuck’s sake, give me a clue!”
“I only remembered when I saw Nathan by accident and I thought we were winning by a large margin—didn’t think my hunch would matter.”
“Yes! But—” The cat was almost screaming now.
I raised my hand to stop him.
“What is it about?”
“It’s about us almost losing, Sam. We got saved by a fluke—we survived by the skin of our teeth. You don’t give a fuck, clearly, but let me tell you, a lot was staked on this—almost all our plans on the exorcists. We needed that win, and we only have a fighting chance because of a fucking stroke of luck!”
“I do give a fuck, Q’Shar.”
“You don’t show it.”
“I have a trusted cat on the job.”
“Yeah, well, your trusted cat fucked it up, didn’t he? So you don’t even have that.”
I looked at him with a frown. For a second, I considered extending myself into his mind to see what was going on, but I stopped myself. It would leave a bad taste in my mouth, so that meant all that was left was conversation. Sighing to myself, I looked at the animal.
“What is it really about?”
“We almost lost—are you fuckin’—”
“I might be bad with emotions, but I’ve known you long enough to know you’re lying. You look like you almost died, not like you lost a political struggle. Even without exorcists, we would still be in a good position. We would adjust and hold control within the church one way or another. And if I know that, that means you do too.” He lowered his head slightly, as if caught in a lie. “So my question is—why the panic? What happened?”
He looked at the ground. Everything from his tail to his whiskers slowly fell. His eyes were strange—sad, but also embarrassed in a way. I let the silence hang in the air before his voice finally broke it.
“I failed, Sam. I was given responsibility and power in your name, and I fucked it up. I didn’t see a betrayal of two large powers within our own faction. You might not care that much, but this was our play. This was our way to grasp the new world and not adjust to others. And we failed. If the vote doesn’t change, the pope will give it to the church anyway.”
“Is that all—you didn’t want to disappoint me? Do I look disappointed?”
“It’s not about you. My father served your father—he was handpicked. He clawed his way from the bottom and gained enough recognition to be handed your father’s vast net of power. Can you imagine the glory of that for an alley cat? Even if it was a shadow of what once was, still—for a stray to be recognised like that?”
“I imagine it would be a burden.”
“Yes, a burden my father carried with pride, and to the last days of his life, it never broke his back. He wouldn’t let it. Even if his father was a pathetic coward, he rose above it. But I? When that vote fell—when they looked at us and smiled—I… I wanted to run, to curl up under some fucking trash can like we did back then and just be far away from all this. It was a split second, but it was there... All my hatred for my grandfather, and deep inside I’m like him…”
“If you were like him, you would still be behind that trash can,” I said slowly.
“Right. Or… I’m not there just because my father put me in a decorated room. You never checked me. You never controlled my actions or even made sure I wasn’t betraying you. You trusted me, and I broke it. I failed. Your father trusted my father, and he never failed him. And like him, you trusted me, and when it really mattered, when we were about to grasp the new power, I stumbled. I’m sorry, Sam,” he said, not looking into my eyes.
I stood there for a few seconds, taken aback.
“Is that what you think? That my father picked yours due to his great talent? And that you got the job by association?” The silence was all the answer I needed, to which I almost burst out laughing. “When your father worked with mine, do you think there was any need for a good broker? The world was static—no change, no new power to grasp. My father had all the contacts he needed from the get-go. Didn’t it ever occur to you that the talent my father saw and wanted was… you?”
Q’Shar flinched, surprised by my words.
Comments
Jonny Mad
Cats are really pivotal in this world. Tyftc
Jericho Rising
Blunt is a language of elegance and taste.
yohan gu
I’m really stunned his charisma is so low. Sam has godlike social skills.
