6 - Requiem - Na'Valis: Mother of Blades
Na'Valis loved this city. She loved it, and she hated it. She loved its people, the heart of I'Lamora. She hated the games those in power had begun playing to hold on to their power. Once, there was a selflessness in their leaders, a willingness to step aside when they could no longer be of service. Once, she was content to be merely an observer, a warrior no one looked at twice.
That was before she saw the heart of the city begin to darken.
It was a slow process, hardly noticeable at first, yet undeniable. It crept up in small measures. Taxes, while always important for maintaining the city, had seen a steady rise under the pretense of the increasing cost of expansion and upkeep; yet the central grounds of the Citadel, where the leaders spent most of their time, saw disproportionate growth. The buildings that had always been pristine, as was much of the city, were increasingly detailed with artistry and extravagances, while other areas lagged in progress. The leaders claimed that artisans simply wished to give back to their home, and there was likely some truth to the matter, but that didn't explain why some artists had unexpected windfalls soon after their donations.
The existence of societal strata was an unavoidable social construct in any concentrated populace like I'Lamora. There was always an inherent distinction between those who found success and those still on their journey, and that was always admired, even cultivated here. The promise of a better future served to motivate the people, and those at the top had learned from a culture of paying it forward, so that those most in need found the means to progress.
This had begun to change in recent years in minute ways. Sure, there was still a trickle of prosperity from the upper levels of society, but it had become a brook compared to the rainfall of the past. It was a fountain pooling at the top, the overflow that could no longer be contained falling to lower levels. It always recycled to the source, though, when the lowest echelons of society bought the necessities they needed to live, cementing them in a state of subsistence. Most people were too trusting of their neighbors and unable to see the bigger picture to connect the way the myriad changes led to one conclusion. The dark heart of the city was taking control.
Na'Valis loved this city. She loved it, and she hated what it was becoming. She would not stand idle while its people suffered. The seeds of corruption would not reach the harvest if she had any say in the matter. It was a year of challenge, the people had known so for months, and she had a plan.
"Did you hear? Another member of the council was caught moving money they couldn't explain," a man said to his friend.
"Again? That's the third time in as many months."
"Rumor is, he got spooked by the stories and was trying to stash it away somewhere it couldn't be connected to him," replied the man.
A third voice chimed in, "They say it's the work of the Shadow. They say he walks in the dark, pulling secrets into the light."
"How did we put so much trust in these people?" The second man asked with a dark look on his face.
"I don't know who're the bigger fools, them or us. They've been robbing us blind, and we let them, but they thought no one would ever catch wise?"
"People will do anything when they think they won't get caught."
"Well, nobody is turning a blind eye to those bastards in the Citadel anymore." The second man spat on the stone street, letting anyone who cared to know his opinion on the matter.
Conversations like this spread through the city, igniting the minds of its citizens thoroughly as a wildfire of imagination. The people were waking up, becoming aware of the misdeeds of their trusted council. All it took was a well-placed whisper, and news of the corruption poisoning I'Lamora spilled from every brothel, tavern, or other den of iniquity.
The agents of the Shadow went nearly as unseen as their master, for nobody looked twice at an off-duty guardsman enjoying some well-earned downtime. They fought the illness spreading through the city with its own philosophy, proving that small ripples can cause disproportionately large waves. The most important battles aren't won on a field of war, but in the minds of simple men.
In a sequestered room within the inner walls of the Citadel, two men stared daggers at each other from across the table. The hushed nature of their discussion was telling of the sensitive subject matter.
"Why are your people doing this, Kha'Anach? This time, you go too far! You can't think you'll get away with this. We've never broken any laws." Kha'Illis fumed at his fellow Councilor.
"It's hard to break laws you've kept from existing. If you're so certain this is the work of my people, where is your proof? If you had any, Kha'Illis, we wouldn't be having this pleasant discussion here; you'd have dragged me before the council in accusation." A smile belied the anger clear in his gaze. "I'm just glad somebody has found a way to expose even a fraction of what your people have been getting up to under everyone's noses. Really, old friend, you should know that I wouldn't be nearly so forgiving if I'd been the one to find proof of your actions. You'd be clapped in irons before the sun crested the horizon."
"Bah," Kha'Illis spat, "Say what you will, I know you're not innocent in all of this, Anach." The man dropped the honorific for his colleague, ending all pretenses of civility. "This plays too well into your hands. You and your traditionalists are too short-sighted to see that the people need us. We're doing them a service by securing our power. Who else knows how to keep this whole machine moving?"
"You call us traditionalists, Illis," Kha'Anach replied, returning the insult in kind, "But that shows your short-sightedness. It is more than mere tradition, keeping to the old ways and providing everyone a chance to improve their station. By solidifying your own power, you undermine the foundations of our people. Our greatest achievements have come from simple men rising above their means through force of will and the benevolence of their brothers and sisters. This city was built on the backs of people struggling together for a better tomorrow."
Kha'Illis snorted in derision. "The great will always rise. You're proof enough of that, friend. You should never have made it out of that mucking pit we grew up in. If it weren't for me and my benevolence, you'd still be unable to scrape two coins together, let alone have risen to the position of Councilor."
"It is a good thing I'm a traditionalist, then. What better way to prove my point than using power gained from another to stand in the way of tyranny? You're still mistaken, though. My people have nothing to do with this, as much fun as it is to see you squirm. I only wish this Shadow had proven your personal involvement already and cut the head from the beast."
A growl sounded at that remark as Illis made to storm out. "You'll get what's coming to you, mark my words." He slammed the door behind him.
Anach sat until the man's footsteps no longer echoed down the stone hallway. "As will you, my old friend," he said with sadness marring his expression, "As will you."
"Captain, the men have done as you asked," platoon commander Ni'Jerren said, reporting to his commanding officer. "Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"
Na'Valis shook her head. "Ni'Jerren, you know I'm not one to hold you to such formalities. Speak freely."
Ni'Jerren glanced around surreptitiously, making sure no prying ears were near before saying in an even tone. "I'm just trying to understand why you had so many men from different commands participate in this operation. Surely my command could have handled this assignment with discretion enough. Does involving so many not risk exposing your involvement?"
"Commander," Na'Valis began, "Tell me. If someone were to take note of who was whispering in the ears of the people and begin to see a pattern, a pattern leading back to one command, would that not also be incriminating? One man can sow doubt in the face of such accusations, but many speaking with a common voice all but proves a conspiracy. I have entrusted no one with information but those who will die for a better future for us all. Don't worry, Ni'Jerren, I trust each man with the task at hand." Pausing, as if in consideration, the Captain added, "Besides, the truth must come out for this to have any meaning. The Shadow cannot stay in obscurity, remaining a myth whispered of in the dark, if we are to punish those responsible for tainting our beloved I'Lamora."
"What do you mean, Captain? Surely you wouldn't throw yourself away so rashly!"
"Jerren, you have been a loyal supporter for as long as I've held command. There is no one I trust more to look out for our people than you, and one day that will fall to you. Trust me when I tell you, all will be revealed in due time."
"As you command, Captain," the platoon commander replied, snapping a polished salute.
Laying a hand on the man's shoulder, Na'Valis finished, "No, Jerren, as I ask. Your choice to do right by others means more than following any command, even if it serves justice. A good man does what he believes is right for no greater reason than because it is right."
The candlelight of Kha'Anach's room left shadows dancing on the walls, telling a tale of dark things creeping in the night. The Councilor chose not to add more light, seeing it as a reminder that darkness always lies just beyond where the light falls. Too much light, and the shadows flee where they cannot be seen. He knew that only with constant vigilance and balance could one keep an eye on that which might bring the house of cards tumbling down. He knew there must be easy hiding places, lest secrets become too difficult to uncover.
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Accustomed as he was to the atmosphere of his quarters, an unease gripped his heart as he shuffled his papers that evening. He couldn't help but feel that some shadows were darker, deeper than they should be. The more his eyes scanned the room, the harder his blood coursed through his veins.
Without warning or preamble, a voice came from an arm's reach away. "It takes a good heart to hold true to your values when given a level of power over others most people never imagine."
His eyes locked onto the voice's source, but even knowing where it came from, it was hard to see more than a Shadow. "It's you," he said clumsily in his fear.
"Aye, it is. I've been watching you, Councilor. Your compatriots do you a disservice. They dishonor the entire station of Councilor. Instead of shepherding their charges, they endlessly struggle against the inevitable fate of losing their power." A dark edge entered the voice. "Power like that isn't meant for men; it is the province of gods, and they've shown that our fates mean little to them. We are less than pawns in their games, but still those fools seek to act like they have any real sway over fate." The voice softened. "You do your people proud, though. You hold true to the values upon which this city was founded."
Appreciation sparked in Kha'Anach's eyes, but he asked, "Why have you come to me, Shadow? Surely, you didn't come to have this scintillating chat. If you've been keeping an eye on me, you already know that our goals align."
"That is exactly why I'm here, sir." Silence filled the air in his darkened quarters as he waited for the Shadow to continue. "The time is fast approaching when I must step into the light. A Challenge must be made to threaten the power our enemies are consolidating. It isn't enough to bring their actions to light, for the people will forget in time. Hunger has a way of overriding sense. No, these lost souls must remember the fear that led our people to create this beautiful city."
"How can I help? Try as I might, I can't quite see my part in all this."
"The people will need a leader, a guide to hold them together and shepherd them in my absence. Fear without true power behind it is a bluff at best. I must leave to gather such power, and you must keep our people safe from themselves." The Shadow sighed, a sound like whispers in the dark, "As safe as you can, anyway."
"I will do anything for our people," the Councilor replied, but the darkness gave no answer. It had already returned to its flickering, uneasy state.
Na'Valis couldn't shake the nerves as she stood within the parade grounds of the Citadel, waiting her turn to claim the rite of Challenge. More than two dozen people had already stepped up. She only hoped that they held the right reasons in their hearts. Even if most were doomed to die in this rite, some undoubtedly held opposing loyalties to her own. No one would interrupt the sacred ceremony, regardless of her words, but she'd begun to second guess the wisdom of her plan.
Even if the ceremony was all but guaranteed to go off without a hitch, she couldn't guarantee her enemies within the ranks of the Challengers wouldn't work together and find her after the tower claimed them all. She couldn't guarantee the safety of anyone she left behind. She could only have faith: faith that enough true brothers and sisters would join her in this mission.
Finally, her turn to step up came. She steeled her resolve and set her will. If not for herself, she knew she had to be strong for the future of her people. The corruption she saw spreading through the city each day couldn't be allowed to continue unchecked. She took that step and spoke her piece.
"Brothers and sisters, I claim the rite of Challenge, but I do not do this for glory. I do this for all of you who lack the power to claim it yourself. As I always have as a Captain of the guard, I fight for the helpless. Power is a tool that must be used to protect others and shape our future. Never have I sought power over another for the sake of power itself, only that I might better protect you all. If the Tower should claim me and I should not return, remember my sacrifice. I would give myself a thousand times for my love of our people and restore our honor." Cheers and applause spread in uproar through the gathered citizens, and she continued. "I leave my enemies with a warning. My work as the Shadow was only a taste of what is to come should I claim the power of the Tower for my own. Tread carefully and treat our brothers and sisters well. Should you not heed my words, my retribution will be absolute. Any lost souls who stand with you will be culled like the rot that you are. To all those who hold true to our ways, band together in the face of whatever adversity awaits you. Do not leave your kin to the snakes who wear our faces."
At the mention of the Shadow, a hush fell over the crowd. From all over, she felt adoration and hatred directed at her in equal parts. Saying a silent prayer to whatever gods might be watching, she hoped she was saving more people than she doomed through her actions. Setting her face into a grim smile, she bore the stares of the multitudes until the Tower responded to their Challenge with a showering of light.
Any expectations Na'Valis had held the day of her Challenge were shattered in the face of her time in the Tower. It was both greater and stranger than anything she could have anticipated, and she returned reforged from the journey. Her growth was undeniable, but more important were the bonds she had forged in its crucible.
She had always possessed an awareness that people would be unsettled by if they truly understood it, but the Tower had helped her push the boundaries of that ability. She now held a prescience, seeing the world around her for its cascade of cause and effect.
Around her in a show of light that dazzled no one, for there was no one around to see, three other figures materialized simultaneously.
"Not quite how you described it, eh, Val?"
Her senses, her most precious gift, had already expanded to encompass the city of I'Lamora. She could see it all, and her heart wept. The beauty of her home had been ravaged and, based on the lack of external damage to the walls, had been torn apart from within. Tears drew wet paths down her cheeks briefly before the rain washed them away.
A deep voice rumbled from her left, announcing the presence of Ullm. "Shut it, Grayle. Your senses are nearly as honed as Val's, yet you still find yourself lacking the most important senses."
A comforting hand rested on her shoulder, taking away some of the ache in a way only Elanor could manage. She felt a commiseration through that contact, an understanding born through shared experience, and knew that her pain was shared. Elanor, while not from her day of Challenge, had also come from I'Lamora, unlike their comrades in arms.
"What? I'm just sayin', they really talked up how beautiful it was." He finished with a mumbled, "Shame on me for being excited to see the place."
"It's okay, Gray," Val said. "I wish you could have seen it, too."
Movement heading towards the city's center, movement she'd forced herself to ignore as she took in the destruction, marked the end of the time for observation. Grayle was already getting ready himself.
"Well, looks like we've got incoming, folks."
Na'Valis set her jaw and entered the haven of cold calculation she'd learned from her time in the Tower. She felt a rage that had built up in quiet moments over the years begin to simmer uncontrollably. Even knowing they likely wouldn't have listened, she lamented what she knew she must do. They stood against her, and they had been warned. The time to fulfill her Oath of Retribution had come, and woe befell any who crossed her. She felt no joy in the coming days, only the crushing weight of lost life.
Months passed in a blur as the four traveled across the lands. They gathered whatever allies they could find, protecting anyone and everyone who wasn't lost to depravity. Na'Valis couldn't fathom how greatly she'd underestimated the corruption she'd seen taking root in her people. She'd expected a fight to root out the snakes from I'Lamora, but having to kill everyone left in the city had never crossed her mind.
Truthfully, there weren't many people still in the city, and those who remained were clearly soldiers, after a fashion. They were utterly barbaric, with none of the civility of the people she had left. Their shouts and jeers, screeches and growls filled the city as the horde rushed her group. Their armor was lacking, their weapons primitive. The barbarians broke upon them like waves on a cliff face, scattering like so much sea spray. They stood no chance against four returned Challengers.
Elanor used her gifts to get some information. The group had long learned the importance of getting a lay of the land when in unfamiliar territory, and this was certainly not home any longer. Decades had passed since Na'Valis had left, and it had been far longer for Elanor.
By the time they had found what survivors they could, they had also compiled a more complete picture of what had befallen her people. Ni'Jerren and Kha'Anach had consolidated their power, sheltering as many people as possible. Those loyal to the Shadow and what she stood for flocked to their side, some for protection and some to offer aid. For a time, there was a tentative peace in the city, but the corruption was too great. Spies planted in their number worked to undermine their efforts, ultimately leading to the capture and public execution of Kha'Anach for 'crimes against the righteous Kha of the council.'
Na'Jerrin, forsaking his newly earned Captainship, fled the city with what loyalists he could trust and their families. The fight to leave had torn the city asunder, largely contributing to the state Na'Valis and her friends found I'Lamora. Both factions abandoned the wreckage, Kha'Illis opting to leave a detachment in the city for early warning in case the Shadow ever returned. How vastly he overestimated their ability to get a message out.
The Kha, still alive through sheer malice, dismantled his faction until he was the only one left in power. Each political opponent found themselves struck down by his duplicity, made an example of by their very people. Jerrin never gave up hope that Na'Valis would return. He instituted a practice of leaving patrols near the city. Finding these patrols with Val's gifts was trivial, and they led them to what command Jerrin had left in his passing.
With the help of Jerrin's people, the four gathered the rest of the fractured people and became a rallying flag for the people, a symbol of hope. For everyone else, they became a very different symbol.
So much death followed wherever they met opposition that even the land itself refused to let life take root for generations to come. At this time, whispers of a new name could be heard across the land.
Everyone knew the day must come when their heroes would return to the Tower, but the people lamented its coming, nonetheless. Na'Valis had become honored Mother to the people. She was a mother who led with love and spoke often of her philosophies. She served as a lesson for what would happen if the people lost their way again.
The people never fully recovered after their Fracturing, and no one could bear to return to I'Lamora for any length of time. The pain of its loss was too great and too close, yet all the fractured tribes gathered to bid farewell to Na'Valis and her companions.
In the brief time she spent among her people, she gathered disciples from Jerrin's people. She and her companions trained them, imparting what knowledge they could of their gifts in the time they had. In their absence, the disciples would pass down their message as a reminder of the darkness, as a reminder of the necessity of the heroes' actions.
The disciples stood solemnly, that day, watching their masters return in Challenge, something no one knew was possible. Without pomp, they disappeared in a flash of light and, when the light cleared, the people rejoiced, seeing the Mother still standing before them. In her hands, she held an artifact high for all to see. To the people, it seemed to sing with the song of the Mother.
"While my companions could not stay, for their fate lies beyond our borders, I could not bear to leave you. I return bearing gifts for the protection of our people, and though I shall miss my friends, our students shall hold the line, protecting the people without care for the lines that we draw. They shall protect these sacred lands of our fallen city and the lands of all the fractured tribes. None shall Empower themselves, but be the watchers who bear witness against all threats, from without and within. Under our care shall the people flourish and move towards becoming one people again, until a day may come that, in our darkest hour, a champion must be Chosen, that my Legacy might be fulfilled."
"Hear the words of our honored Mother, she who was Na'Valis and is become An'Ilith, the Shadow of Retribution. Hear her words and remember our duty to one another, that a Fracturing of the people never comes again, for fear of our Mother's return."