The Fey Conquest, # 18— "A New Contingency"

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]

Maka re-convened with Japheth and Naori after they already returned from Looking Glass Monastery, and they commiserated about what Maka had learned from Leonyde, the Sovereign Esper. Naori had been generally unsurprised by what Leonyde had related, and to Maka’s surprise, Japheth was also unsurprised.

“You know how I feel about children, Maka. I appreciate them, love to make them laugh.”

“That’s right, you do,” said Naori.

“So you’re in agreement with Leonyde’s judgment?” said Maka.

“Are you?” said Japheth.

“I— I loved being a scribe and reading the histories, and studying the espers. Everyone praised me. I knew the dark espers were malignant, but I suppose I never considered— those children that were offered…”

“... Were just as human as me and you,” he finished.

There was some quiet, then:

“But the Net Region!” exclaimed Maka.

“The Nets had their own cabals,” said Japheth, “The Esper of the Crab Village was fed humans. Who knows if they were guilty?”

Maka shuddered.

Then said, “The Crab Esper was like that, was he!?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a friendly animal,” said Japheth.

Naori said, “The land of Iceglass is blighted by covens everywhere but Sovereign Valley. The Order of the Spear believed their duties to be relegated to rooting out stray Will’o Darks.”

“Not much of a job, really,” said Maka.

“If you actually read the proper text,” said Naori, “it says they’re responsible for everything West of Iceglass Fountain!”

“That’s impossible,” said Japheth.

“Even I know that,” said Maka, “How could they shoulder such a task?”

Naori said, “It was never supposed to be this epidemic. As the years went on, it became more and more impossible to root out the dark ones. And then people just accepted it, even reveled in it.”

“But why are we responsible?” asked Maka.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” said Naori, “If you were alive at the time this started, you would have had your nose in the books that suited your fancy, while the rest of the world kept turning.”

“Yeowch, Naori,” said Maka.

Meanwhile, Looking Glass Monastery would be a morass of pontification, indecision, and squabbling if not for Doctor Karval.

Doctor Emeriss Karval, a doctor of military history and a devotee of Gwinik, an Esper of Wisdom, gave Maka some disquieting news.

“The Badger’s behavior has changed in the Net region,” Said Doctor Karval.

“Can that really be a bad thing?” said Japheth.

“Normally, yes. But it’s out of his character. Whatever he’s planning, it can’t be good.”

“Well, what is it?” said Maka.

Surely anything would be better than sacking every town, slaying the espers, enslaving the survivors, and wanton cruelty to those who resisted.

“He has forestalled in the Village of the Bread Esper. If we’re not mistaken, he is well aware of all manner of refugees along with their espers making their way to Stonehall.”

“The Bread Village?” said Maka, “What could interest him there? He seems to like his meat on the rare side.”

“He’s been breaking in his conscripts. Few of them are happy to join the Tyrant, but unfortunately, our people don’t have the backs to resist someone like Weez.”

“Understandable,” said Japheth, “But why is he ignoring the refugees? Surely baked goods have little to do with it.”

“The Village of the Bread Esper, unsurprisingly, is the breadbasket of the entire region,” said Karval, “The conscripts are being disciplined with merciless efficiency. Weez is able to carefully measure their will to resist with how much bread they will receive.”

“But still, though,” said Maka, “Surely espers are of greater interest.”

Dr. Karval said, “My estimation is he’s solidifying his control over his troops and their readiness for battle, while living off the abundance of the Bread Village. He has as much time as he needs.”

“Is Stonehall secure?” said Japheth.

“It’s very defensible,” said Karval, “No one has ever penetrated the outer wall, much less the bastion it protects.”

That soothed Maka, for the nonce.

“What of Leonyde?” said the doctor, “You survived your encounter with him. That says much as it is.”

“—Well…” said Maka, anxious, “...He and Aestheyas are of the same mind.”

Even though Doctor Karval’s gaze hardly seemed to change, something about it made her feel that she had dishonored her father.

“You must tell me everything.”

When Maka at length had related everything to Doctor Karval, he commended her honesty, and set about prosecuting a different contingency. He would accompany her in a regal procession of followers, serving the needs of Maka and her attendants. Naori would join her entourage, along with Skerrit, Japheth, Warren, two of her chosen Lancers, a brigade of Fey Militia, and a slew of other clergy, mages, artisans, doctors, scribes, and anyone who could assist her in preparation for what she must do. Karval arranged for a preparation of gifts as a peace offering for the invader, along with the trappings that feasibly could be used to erect a wedding celebration. There would be ample provisions to what Karval judged would be enough to furnish a wedding feast.

“Fenix will never agree to this,” said Maka.

“Fenix is more of a peacock, and he was not Chosen. You were,” said Karval.

“There are none braver,” said Skerrit, who apparently trusted in Fenix’s magnificent attire.

“Leonyde and Aestheyas both testified we would lose the war,” said Japheth, “and there’s plenty of evidence of us losing.”

“Once the Weasel assails Stonehall, he will be cast down,” said Skerrit.

“Stonehall is impregnable,” said Warren expertly.

And yet the Net Region proper was being laid waste, Maka didn’t say.

Another Lancer from the Order of the Spear, Grigwen, was tasked with leading, drilling, and marshaling the Fey Militia attending Maka’s entourage. But it was intended to be for security, not as an opposing force to the conqueror. He was loud and authoritative enough to impress the militia, and his armor and other finery impressed them all the more. From what she could tell, Grigwen knew how to do his job well enough that the Fey grew confident, strengthened, and familiar with their weaponry, but she couldn’t help but notice their movements were exaggerated, stiff, unnatural, with none of the grace she saw in her scrying of Swain’s war-band. It was like they were acting out a ceremony.

Perhaps it was best after all that their people made peace with Swain, the lesser of four evils that had invaded Iceglass.