IllustratorsLeak
Joroboros
Joroboros

patreon


[YF] Chapter 248: Forgotten

For a crowd of about a hundred ursu, without a single enhanced amongst them, the hateful glares of half a dozen of the strongest people on the continent is beyond overwhelming. My elders don’t even need to unleash their presence to send these ursu into a shivering mess. Considering how high the crowd stand over us, it would make for an amusing sight… if not for how problematic this entire situation is.

I can understand that some ursu may hate me — if they’ve learnt that I was the cause of Morne’s destruction, then there’s no hiding from it — but I can’t have my elders murder the citizens of New Vetus while we’re trying to forge good relations.

Before I can move for my elders — or my elders can incinerate the ursu before us — a thump ripples through my legs.

“Kneel.” The powerful voice washes over the city, silencing all.

Each ursu’s legs collapse beneath them. Without thought to their actions besides instinctual terror, they find themselves pressed to the earth, barely able to hold themselves up with arms and knees.

Across the square, Tore himself appears from the continae. His eyes cold. Even a hundred metres away, he looms over all.

“Despite my warnings, you persist.” Each word is slow to leave his mouth, but hits like a powerful blow. Emphasised by the thump of each step. He arrives deceptively quickly, glaring down on all the ursu unable to meet his gaze. “I have overlooked your insults too long.”

He flicks his hand. A small movement, more of a twitch of his bulky fingers, yet it is enough to create a breeze. In moments, an army of ursu swordsmen arrive. Without being told, they grasp the cowering citizens and drag them away.

Tore turns to my elders and inclines his head. “This is my error. I hoped for understanding, and left them be. I apologise.” The giant ursu turns to me, bowing again. “This shouldn’t have been revealed.”

“You knew?” I ask, before I can stop myself. As guilty as I felt over the burning of Morne, the last thing I wanted was for people to learn of it. It may be selfish, but I didn’t want Tore to think of me differently.

“We make mistakes.” He nods simply.

Behind the giant, I find Gerben rushing out from the continae. A dozen follow behind, appearing reluctant to chase down their angered Tsar.

“But-“ I stammer, feeling that his forgiveness comes too easily. “There were so many lives lost.”

“Yes.” His voice is quiet, but as heavy as ever. “But I have no right to fault you.” Tore’s gaze shifts to Leal, who still stands before me — albeit no longer defensive — and his eyes soften in… familiarity? Recollection? They only linger a moment before he shifts his attention back to my elders.

I try not to look at them myself. Their gazes burn into my back. I told them long ago of the disaster of Morne — what with how important such an event might be on all áed’s future — but I’d hoped any actual problems regarding it would stay in the past. Whatever popularity I’d gained with the ursu by helping Tore is likely lost, now that such details are known by all.

“We shall treat you,” Tore says to my elders. “An apology, and a farewell.” The giant then leads them towards the continae.

He speaks more than I remember. I guess that after so long being forced into a role of leadership, a certain amount of communication is required. It’s good to see that he’s grown. I remember how difficult it had been to get a single word out of him years ago.

As my elders allow the five metre ursu to lure them with the sweet promise of alcohol, Gerben finally reaches me and Leal. Immediately he crushes her in a hug and lifts her off the ground. She squeaks, before crushing her father back. He makes the same squeak.

“Solvei, what have you been feeding my daughter?” he accuses. Despite his attempts, he can’t hide his smile; happy to see his daughter again.

“Not… that much?” I can’t deny I’ve used the inheritance ritual a few times for her on our trip, but I doubt she’s grown much from that. It would have been everything I gave her back in the wasteland that gave her the boost to her strength.

“Dad. We did this last time.”

“Yes, well I forgot to blame your friend for taking my daughter that couldn’t brush off my hugs so easily,” Gerben says. “I’m making up for lost time.”

Leal, as if only now realising she’s still being gripped tight, squirms out his arms. The former soldier is disappointed, but lets her go without fuss.

Gerben is happy, and shows no sign of hurt or hate. Calysta, his wife, died in Morne. He’s already told me he considers it a mistake, but watching the ursu lingering in the streets with accusing eyes, the pang of guilt returns.

“Sorry,” I say, unsure whether I’m directing it to Gerben or the ursu that stayed out of the protest, and therefor avoided arrest.

“Solvei, do not be sorry.” Gerben’s voice is rougher and more direct than I expected, and it forces me to lock eyes with him. “This is our failure. We have been trying to keep a lid on this for a while, but it slipped through.”

“Wait, there were more that knew? Did Tore know?” The words slip out of my mouth without really thinking.

“Of course,” he says amused, but unable to commit a smile with the topic. “There were plenty of witnesses from the city, and after the war, your face wasn’t exactly unknown.”

I twist to Leal, unable to respond. My friend glares at any ursu that so much as glance our way. It’s touching. Especially with how she used to shrink any time another ursu would look her way.

I’m not sure what to think. Until now, I’d wanted to keep it hidden so I wouldn’t be hated by these people. Not having to hide that does make me feel a bit freer. But I find that even as I stand under the accusing gazes of the ursu… I don’t care.

It is only the opinion of those I consider close that I care for. Tore, Gerben and Leal have forgiven me, and that is all I need. I do still feel bad, because my actions have hurt those I care for, but all the common citizens of New Vetus? I could care less.

Maybe I’m still holding a grudge from the treatment I received back in the Henosis war.

“There was an investigation done after the fact. Not only had all fire safety equipment been shipped off to the front line with those who could operate it, but building standards hadn’t been met for a decade before the war. Even a candle left unchecked would have resulted in the same,” Gerben says. “But try telling that to these fools.”

Gerben turns to join his daughter in glaring down the ursu yet to flee. It’s surprising to hear such an explanation. Is it true? Or is Gerben simply trying to give me a way out of my guilt?

“And even if that weren’t the case, what you have done for Tore alone should be enough redemption,” he continues. “It is surprising how quickly they’ve become blinded by the benefit of a near perfect leader. Not three years ago, they would have been executed on the spot for speaking out. And they’ve already been given warnings.”

❖❖❖

Soon, we are all gathered within the continae. An ursu serves both drinks and those strange — delicious — metal discs to the áed, while Tore, Gerben and Leal only drink. Considering its not time for their bratchina, I’m not surprised they’re fasting.

Gerben’s eyes widen when he sees his Leal take a drink for herself, and tries to snatch it away from her. Leal, as if expecting such a reaction, leans away and holds it out of his reach. The ursu looks like he wants to argue, when his eyes flicker to me. I return his gaze quizzically, then drink from my own mug of clear liquid. It pours down my throat and burns through my flames in moments, leaving me with an empty cup.

For some reason, Gerben looks defeated. He slumps.

Leal, beside him, sips slowly at her drink with the slightest of smirks gracing her lips. I raise an eye her way, but that seems to only make her smile wider.

“Well,” Śuri raises his voice over the long stone table. “I think we’re all interested in hearing what you’ve discovered in the Warring Isles.” He glances between me and Leal, inviting either of us to start.

We dive into explaining what we found. The vast ocean of pyramids on stilts holding inscriptions that combine both áed and eastern methods. The Anatla trapped in the centre of it all, with strange hyle beams blocking passage. And the Titan guarding the place.

After our recounting of what we found at the site of the Anatla — unfortunately receiving no better ideas than what Leal and I already considered — our conversation steers to the rest of our journey.

“The Henosis are veering into Heqet territory,” I say to the group, but mostly to Tore. “That bomb they used that day… they no longer require áed to function. I don’t know if they were there simply to test the weapons out, or if they were trying to push through. Maybe its too soon to say, but it’s possible they could be pushing for an invasion from the south.”

“Troubling,” Tore grumbles. “But unlikely; they prepare for war with the north.”

They are? I mean, haven’t they been preparing to battle the pact nations even during the mermineae war? There was enough uncertainty around to believe so. Why does he sound so sure.

“The Empire has already marched on Kizthak,” Gerben reveals. “No major conflicts have ignited yet, nor have either side declared war. But it is only a matter of time.”

Kizthak. That’s the nation to the east of Meja. The one with the largest border against Henosis. It’s not surprising they’re the ones to be invaded first, but if the eastern Empire has already taken land, then why has the pact nations not declared war?

My confusion must be obvious, as Tore leans back on his stone throne, leaving it to groan under his weight. “You will see.”

❖❖❖

“You’re not coming?” I ask, surprised.

Cyrus shakes his head with clear disappointment. “Someone needs to coordinate with the ursu on the joint construction projects. With the danger of war to the north, it is better for all the grand elders to remain. They will do a better job protecting you than I.” He pauses for a moment, and I try to interject, but he just holds up a hand. “I wish you wouldn’t go, but I do understand.”

Before I can figure out how to say goodbye to them, again, Elder Enya grabs me, and wraps me in her flames. “We will be either here or Fisross whenever you want to find us. Well, Cyrus will. I might have to fly back and forth a bit, but I’ll always be back quick.”

I don’t hate her proximity, but I do find it strange how much she’s changed since I was a child. Back when the tribe was around, she remained a steadfast figure amongst the elders. Even mum looked up to her. She loved everyone back then, but she’d been more withheld from being so expressive. Now? She never holds back.

“We will miss you,” she says, sending one last burst of heat through me.

“I will too,” I say, and step on the train.

We head for Meja. We head for the nations on the brink of war.

❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖

Next Chapter

Comments

"Uh, Tore, why hasn't a war happened yet?" "They tried but there was a blizzard and then a really big snake so everyone's too confused to fight"

Summer Coff

Knowing Tore's personality, he likely sees Morne as another casualty of his indolence in breaking his curse. I don't think anyone could really refute that except Solvei, but she herself was such a victim in that situation that he wouldn't listen to it from her. This is what makes Morne a tragedy, not a mere disaster.

Summer Coff


More Creators