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127. Opening
🕑 Added 2025-12-03 22:43:01 +0000 UTCEveryone’s eyes turned to the speaker. He was an older African man dressed in a mix of modern, elegant, and traditional clothing tailored specifically for him. He stood straight, looking at the Pope, who once again was next to his speaking podium. The Pope swept his gaze over the gathered people and, when no one else stood, struck his crosier on the floor.
“I give the voice to Dakarai of the Vodún.”
The moment the bell rang, Dakarai approached the speaking podium in the middle of the floor.
“My dear compatriots,” the man spoke with an African accent. His voice was strong and loud, devoid of any clues as to his age. “For the past hundreds of years, we have stayed silent and hidden, afraid of what might happen if we let ourselves be known to the common man.”
I smiled lightly at the lack of mentioning why we were afraid.
“And my people have suffered greatly, much like many gathered here. Our hidden valleys and sanctuaries cannot hold all the spirit animals of our lands. They were born to run wild and free, not to be prisoners of their own people. We lost more of our gods’ gifts than we remembered, and each voice given to Mawu carries the shame of failure to preserve her blessings. But we endured. We stayed hidden as warlords tore our lands. We stayed hidden as poachers arrived from across the seas and took the heads of our spirit animals to hang on their walls—a cheap trophy, a celebration of their ability to squeeze the trigger from inside a car. We did what we could without showing ourselves to the world. And still… the last of the white rhinos are facing extinction. But no longer. We do not see a point in upholding the chains that held us in the shadows. We can no longer stand by the cruelty of the weak.”
He paused, looking over the gathered mages, many of whom were nodding to his words.
“There is none here so powerful as to hide a storm from being seen. We see no point in preserving the old status quo. As such…. the Vodúnisants would like to propose a motion for lifting the Lex Secreti Arcanorum and allowing for the use of magic against mortal men!” The man finished, letting his words hang in the air as a murmur passed over the gathered people.
When he sat down, the murmur grew into a loud, uniform buzz as everyone began discussing the sudden opening.
“How did you get the Vodúnisants to get involved in politics?” I asked the cat.
“Same way as I got you. Knowing what they want,” the cat answered proudly.
“So what now? Do we vote?” asked Ophelia.
“No. Now there will be a discussion. Although I have a strange feeling this will evolve into a talk about a completely different law…” I said, looking at the proud cat. “Do we support the proposal or do we wait?”
“Wait.”
The Pope hit his staff once, then twice after another minute, and finally three times, ending the discussions. Dakarai got up once again after all the voices died down.
“Are there any who want to respond?” asked the Pope.
Many people from all the factions stood up, and the Pope looked to the previous speaker.
“I would like to give my voice to the Hamon Clan,” he said, and the Pope nodded in conformation.
All the people sat back down, some of them with frowns, and the only standing person left was an older woman from the noble faction, sitting in the Riswalt family area. I looked to Q’Shar with raised eyebrows, but he still looked sure of himself.
She approached the podium before speaking. “I thank the Vodún representation for the voice. And I say I do agree with their words. It is not a burden that only they carry upon their backs. The elves, dwarves, mycanoids, vampires, and many more. All the demihumans and outsiders live in the shadows, kept there by chains of our own forging. How many of them died unfulfilled, how many of them suffered thanks to mortal men and our sacrifice to protect their world?” She let the question hang in the air.
It was a ballsy move, considering that ending on a question allowed others to take the floor after a few seconds. But silence was the official sign that everyone wanted her to continue. to which the woman smiled slightly.
“But we can’t just lift the law without first figuring out what to do once the outside world knows us. We can’t just scoff at the consequences of a change this great. That’s why we would like to postpone the vote until a full resolution of the subject is in place.” She sat back down.
“Watch this,” the cat whispered. “She opened for the Riswalts, and they will use Duke Rochechouart as their mouthpiece.”
A few people stood up, but soon I noticed they looked rather strange, their gazes directed at us. I turned around and saw that the entire third chamber was still sitting down. But what was most bizarre was that the people sitting to the sides who were unaffiliated were also not getting up.
“Impressive,” I said.
“Well, thank you.”
“You now control the unaffiliated factions?” asked Ophelia.
“Only managed to get them not to react. The law states that the previous speaker can give their voice to a specific person, provided the Pope agrees. But to prevent factions from turning it into an inside monologue or the Pope showing favoritism, if three speeches in a row don’t feature three different factions, then the voice must be given to one of the remaining groups until three factions have spoken. And then the speeches are counted once again. It can still be cheated with unaffiliated people, but now it means that after they are finished with their proposal, the direct rebuttal will be ours, with no buffer to suck up to them.”
“And it’s their proposal, they can't let it just hang with no further discussion,” Opehlia said and nodded, understanding the political maneuvers.
I was impressed. Getting the chamber to act as one was already tough, but the unaffiliated were another story altogether. After a few awkward seconds, when they were clearly waiting for someone else to get up, finally, the voice was given to none other than Duke Rochechouart.
The man was in his mid-forties. He had a heavy, muscular build, with a long mane of golden hair and light facial hair, including a thin mustache and a small triangle under his lip. His facial features were noble and handsome, with wide, intense eyes to match. He was well known for his high charisma despite using a lance to fight, and it made itself known the moment he opened his mouth. His voice was loud, deep, and reverberating, feeling like honey.
“Dear lords and ladies, humans, demihumans, and outsiders. I come here before you to make a proposition—a proposition that will make life better for each and every one of us here. A proposition to change the world as we see fit and as it should be.” He let his words hang in the air before continuing. “I propose to you a question—a simple question with the most convoluted of answers—what do we need? What is it that our world desperately covets? Many of you will give many different answers. ‘A space for their spirit animals,’ say the men of Vodún. A power to recover the lost arts of their families,’ may say the nobles; ‘ altars and idols to their gods,’ say the men of faith. But I disagree. I disagree with all those answers!” The man shouted.
His voice was passionate and hypnotic. Even I liked the speech.
“For all of those are already given. They are—even if not served on a silver platter—the way to them is wide open, and we just have to walk it. And that path is paved with the power of mana. What we truly need is the space and freedom to achieve our goals. We need our path to be uninterrupted. And when I talk about interruptions, we all know what I mean: the mortal world.”
He once again let his voice hang for a few seconds.
“And the ugly truth of the matter is: we don’t know how to deal with it. We haven’t for a long time. Our wisdom is filled with ways to hide, avoid, and misdirect, but now we are like creatures of darkness, with daylight shining on us. Conofsed, scared, and directionless. So, how to resolve this—where do we find the wisdom?”
“Here it comes,” Q’Shar whispered, squinting his eyes.
“I say we look to our ancestors. I say we use their teachings and methods and, once adjusted for our new world, implement them. I say we put our grasp on the throat of the mortal world. And once we do, we will soon find out that it didn’t change that much. As our forefathers once whispered in the ears of kings and pulled the strings of royal courts, so we too will whisper into the ears of CEOs and pull the strings of boards of directors. The mortal world has always been ruled by greed and incompetence, and that has not changed! No, it shall be even easier—greed has transformed from sin into a virtue, celebrated and cultivated. We will blind the incompetent men and women ruling and pull their strings as we once did—offer cures, divinations, and power, or rather… its shadows on the wall cast by our own hands.”
His words were passionate, and many in the crowd began nodding firmly. His image, coupled with the firm, sure voice, made it seem like what he spoke of was easy, already within sour reach.
“Of course, we can’t stay in the shadows—no—but once fear settles, once magic interferes with electronics on a wide scale and demons and ghosts crawl out, they will look for their saviors, and all we need is to use that moment.”
He paused for a second, preparing for his final statement.
The cat looked at me, slightly nodding in confirmation. This was the moment. If he were confident, he would finish with a question before making the proposition, and I should be able to give an immediate rebuttal without needing the Pope’s permission.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the world looks to the weak and greedy, as it always has. So I ask you—what changed? The mortals are helpless in the face of the supernatural. I ask you—what has changed? And once the unexplainable returns, once gods answer prayers and magic bends reality, the mortals will look to the same place they have for past millennia—they will sit in churches asking for salvation! The world might look different from the way it used to, but the human heart… when you look upon it, I ask you… what. Has. changed?” He finished, each word quieter and calmer, like a sea welcoming a clear morning after a night of storms.
The voice seemed to reverberate in the air as people slowly emerged from a trance. He did finish on a question, his smile widening with each split second the silence continued, until, shortly, the first claps began to sound in the noble faction. A bit too soon. It wasn’t a bad idea to drown out the rebuttal with applause. A speech finished with an unanswered question, with the following proposal presented as the sought-after answer—textbook move.
But good luck with that—he might have all the charisma, but he wasn’t the only one with the ability to affect others.
I stood up, taking in air, and released my second tongue, no longer pressing it against the floor of my mouth—letting it add an irritating edge to my voice, like a strange echo scraping against the ear.
The moment I spoke the first syllable, the clapping stopped as people flinched, giving me a slight pause.
“Capability for mass destruction!” I shouted into the silence.
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A bit of trivia: the de Rochechouart family is the second oldest surviving French noble house, after the royal family. They were founded in 980AD. by Aimery 1st de Rochechouart
