The Fey Conquest # 19— "Needless Strife"

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]

It would be a number of days before Fenix would return from mustering militia northeast of Sovereign Valley, west of the Grain Region, which was west of Iceglass Fountain, which was west still of the Winter Region, which was under Morris the Boar’s reign of terror. This province was called the Mystic Region, where some of the most powerful espers dwelt, but also the most dreadful. Reportedly, Fenix had readied both gifts and livestock as sacrifices, and intended to entreaty anyone in the Mystic Region who would defend Iceglass against the invaders, which included dark espers.

He had done this outside either Maka or Doctor Karval’s behest. Maka, with Naori as her mentor, cringed at the notion they should employ dark espers, and Karval, though without ostensible emotion, was quite adamantly against it. Fenix, however, was convinced that he was Maka’s protector and advocate, and believed it was left to him to take initiative and orchestrate an epic confrontation with the invaders.

“Fenix may spell the ruin of our people, if we’re to account for the words of both Leonyde and Aestheyas,” said Emeriss Karval.

“Their words come from on high,” said Naori, “and our guilt is far from hidden.”

This made most of the entourage uncomfortable, as Naori was only concerned with being an oracle, while the rest of their number were more than a little invested in their own native soil.

“With that in mind,” said Doctor Karval, “Fenix is being reckless. Dark espers are often formidable, but enlisting their aid appears to be more of what has hemmed us in in the first place.”

Skerrit said, “Can you really believe the full strength of Iceglass is somehow less than a fraction of her power?”

“What does that mean?” said Japheth.

“The full power of Iceglass lies in utilizing every asset we have available,” said Skerrit, leaving the rest unsaid.

It turned out Maka’s disillusionment of Doctor Skerrit was far from complete. She had once been impressed by his propensity to think critically and examine the truth whenever it was possible to do so. Now, she was beginning to see what he enjoyed was argument, in and of itself, and much of it was kindled by jealousy that his student, Maka, was now far more invested in Doctor Emeriss than Wylos Skerrit. Though Karval did not get easily drawn in, Japheth, Grigwen, Warren, various delegates and even Naori certainly did. Warren appeared to be convinced, as Skerrit was, that “winning” conversations was an invaluable skill, even if it meant antagonizing people. Japheth preferred gracious harmony, but was also convinced people like Warren and Skerrit could be persuaded to see the error of their ways, and hence would get drawn into these fruitless debates. Grigwen venerated Skerrit for his steadfast faith in the ways of the Fey Realm, and Naori could only suffer so much spoken folly.

Skerrit enjoyed some kind of perverse glee for being the center of a debate, and at his age this attribute was impossible to dislodge. Moreover, he would often fail to maintain his own opinion, but would fault Karval for not considering every option, and even then seemed to find fault in choosing any option at all. Maka had a continual sensation, especially concerning Warren and Skerrit, that she was being skinned alive, as though her time and her consideration were simply a fact of life, and she could jump into Skerrit’s stomach, and after a while, he’d simply look for another expressive face to experiment with.

Japheth said, “But in the ancient poetry of our people, an enemy of your enemy is not your friend.”

Doctor Skerrit, for the purposes of seeming to be an objective outsider to his own nation, said, “The ancient stories,” he gestured dramatically, “volumes have been written since then. A mountain of literature.”

Naori said without hiding her anger, “Volumes of rubbish. Most of it analyzes an analysis of something that never should have had an impact to begin with!”

There was astonishment among the entourage.

“Are you suggesting we go back to the days when our women were forbidden from the sacred duties of the males?” said Warren.

Japheth said, “We’re the ones who are losing a war to an army of harbitten men.”

“We appear to be losing,” said Skerrit, as if the rest was unsaid.

“Yes. Because we are,” said Naori.

Skerrit guffawed laughter, “Well, you miss the point. The whole point is, appearances are deceiving.”

“Our women have won intellectual battles,” said Japheth, and Warren, Skerrit, and a few of their attendants balked, “—B-but the invaders know how to actually fight.”

“The quill is mightier than the sword,” said Skerrit.

“Yes,” said Doctor Karval, “and we have used it against ourselves. If not for the quill, our people would have not lost their sense.”

Skerrit was simultaneously angry and had to relieve himself, so great was his outrage. He sputtered, “I am a master of the writings of our people, and have made many contributions. You’re trying to take us back to the dark ages, when—”

“—No one’s going to the dark ages!” said Japheth, “If they were dark—”

“— ‘if they were dark’!?” mocked Warren

.At this, the company descended into quarreling, most of it shouting at Japheth and Japheth trying to be heard. He was attempting to make the case that feeding children to the dark espers was clearly no brighter than an age when women were forbidden roles of prestige. At this he was mocked and derided, much of Maka’s procession believing the liberation of women to entail some heavenly mandate.

Later, Maka conferred in private with Doctor Karval.

“Good Doctor,” said Maka, “Does our procession even believe in what we’re doing?”

Emeriss cleared his throat. “We drew them together in haste, I’m afraid. It would have been an arduous process to ensure everyone believed we needed to make peace with the one called Swain.”

“So we all believe we’re going to win in an actual battle?”

“Not we. Them. You are not to appease them. You are our Chosen.”

“But those idiots—” hissed Maka.

“I am not one to overturn the words of Leonyde,” said Karval, “but the hearts of our people are elsewhere.”

“Well what do they think this wedding is for?”

“They think it’s a gambit. Some don’t believe it should happen at all.”

“How many?”

“I am only a professor. I am not Aestheyas. But if the elders and the clergy remain obstinate, they have a way of persuading our people to believe in lies.”

“Then why are they part of this procession!?” she hissed again.

“Well. Keep your friends close,” said Doctor Karval.

And Maka understood the rest.