Lord Sambrian was a very busy man. His office was one of the most respected in all of Zanarkand, and one of the most consulted in Spira. And now that his unruly protege had been made ruler, his life was twice as stressful. What had Yevon been thinking? It was a thought that passed through his mind at least twice a day. Usually accompanied by gritted teeth and a headache.
Now, Sambrian found himself in the unenviable position of tutoring the most powerful man in Zanarkand. Or at least, trying to. Now that his duties were to his people, Yevon had little time to spare. And yet, Sambrian thought somewhat frantically, he must complete his training! Yevon had passed the initial tests to become a full-fledged summoner, and had somehow managed to overpower the ruler of Zanarkand in the Challenge! In the stunned aftermath, no one quite knew what to think- a novice summoner, defeating the High Summoner of Zanarkand? Impossible.
But that was precisely what Yevon had done. Twice, after the council demanded proof. And according to the founding laws of Zanarkand, only the most powerful Summoner could rule the city. Which left the council no choice but to accept a virtually untried Summoner as the sole ruler of Zanarkand.
Powerful, without a doubt! Trained in all the myriad diplomatic nuances and histories? No. And that was where Lord Sambrian came in. It was his job, foisted upon him by the rest of the council, to get the young ruler 'up to speed' so to speak. And that was a challenge that Sambrian struggled with, daily.
Sambrian found himself in the corridor leading to the royal wing of the palace. Up ahead he could see the guards standing one on each side of the entrance. Unassuming men, both of them. One moderate-sized, with pale eyes and sandy hair, the other tall and youthful looking. Sambrian knew the both of them were mage-trained warriors. Not many had the courage to challenge them.
"I require an audience with his Lordship." Sambrian told them, calmly.
"I will see if his Lordship is available, Lord Sambrian." said the taller of the two, bowing slightly.
As his companion closed the heavy, ornate door behind him, the smaller one crossed his arms and appeared to relax his stance. However, Sambrian was no fool. The young warrior had just shifted his weight and put his blades within easy reach, should Sambrian be feeling suicidal and decide to attack.
Lord Sambrian tucked his hands into the sleeves of his heavy robes and waited. He entered a light meditative trance, as all Summoners are trained to do in their earliest lessons. Self control and self awareness were one of the cornerstones of their doctrines.
Presently the guard returned. "This way, my lord." he said, gesturing to the corridor behind him. Sambrian inclined his head briefly at the two and entered the royal quarters.
Lord Yevon and Lady Mira were standing together near one of the tall windows on the south side of the room. The heavy curtains had been thrown open and sunlight flooded the sitting room. Legolas, as was his nature, was sprawled on the couch nearby.
"Am I not even allowed time to properly greet my Lady wife, Lord Sambrian?" smiled Yevon, as Sambrian entered the room.
Sambrian crossed the room, pushed one of Legolas' legs out of the way and sat down next to him. He raised one bushy eyebrow and peered over his glasses at Mira, noting her mussed hair and slightly swollen lips. "It was given to me to understand that your Lady wife was to refrain from all 'stressful activities'" Sambrian said, blandly.
Legolas broke into a muffled coughing fit at Yevon's sour expression and Mira's pink cheeks.
"You wished to see me?" Yevon said, finally.
"Yes. The Bicentennial celebration is fast approaching, and I believe we need to go over plans for the ceremonies." Sambrian said, reaching into his robes for his datapad.
"Ah! Yes, I'm so glad you brought that up, Lord Sambrian!" Yevon said, enthusiastically. "This trip, learning from the Al Bhed, it's given me an idea." Yevon crossed the room to stand in front of Sambrian. "I believe it's time to reopen relations with Bevelle."
Silence fell. Legolas studied the paralyzed expression on Sambrian's face with some alarm.
Slowly Sambrian brought his hands away from his robes and laid them carefully on his lap. "And what in the world makes you think this is an acceptable idea?" Sambrian said somewhat stiffly.
Ignoring Sambrian's forbidding look, Yevon began to pace, warming to his idea. "Two hundred years ago, we left Bevelle, and never looked back. We've prospered, and grown, and I think the final step would be to come to a peaceful accord with our ancient enemy." Yevon smiled, and looked back at his audience. All of them had varying degrees of dismay on their faces.
"Oh, come on!" Yevon said, exasperated. "It's been a couple hundred years! I bet they don't even remember why we were at war!"
"We do." Sambrian said, flatly.
"There is a saying about Bevelle," Sambrian continued, quietly. "That which they cannot understand, they destroy." He paused, considering the best way to say what he needed to tell his ruler. "Do you recall the history of the founding of Zanarkand?" he asked Yevon, setting down his datapad and folding his hands in front of himself.
Puzzled at Sambrian's vehemence, Yevon nodded. "Of course. Every child knows the tale of the Journey of the Founders."
Sambrian gestured for him to continue. Yevon looked at his mentor, frowning. "At the end of the great war, the people left the city of Bevelle, and followed Lord Zane into the wilderness. Many died along the way, but so great was the need, that they continued the journey. At long last, they came to a great mountain, and met it's guardians, the mighty Ronso tribe. They took pity on the poor travelers and gave them shelter. They agreed that the people could settle on the far side of the mountain, as long as they should honor Mount Gagazet and never harm it's people."
Sambrian shook his head wearily. " A child's tale, sanitized for their innocence." He rubbed a hand over his lined face. "Our people were slaves at best. Slaughtered to near extinction because of Bevelle's beliefs." he chuckled humorlessly.
Yevon looked blankly at Sambrian. "I thought the reasons for the war were lost to history. Where are you getting this from?"
"Only the young believe two hundred years is an eternity." Sambrian said, lips twisting wryly. "The reasons for our 'rebellion' have not been forgotten by the elders." he sighed, deeply. "The knowledge is preserved deep in the archives, by the Scholars guild."
Mira looked up, sharply. "What? I have never been told of any such files!" she said. "Important knowledge such as this should be made public record, if what you say is true!"
Sambrian smiled sadly. "The founders hoped to raise their children as they were meant to be raised, neither wallowing in self-pity, nor basking in false pride. So they refused to speak of what had happened, choosing to let it fade into obscurity. Hoping to forget. Yet those in the Scholar's guild could not bear to let history fade completely. They made a record and buried it deep in the archives, so that should the need arise, it would be there."
Yevon shook his head. "Why do you know?"
"I am part of the Council. In order to protect the people of Zanarkand, we must know our sad history." Sambrian said, simply.
Yevon leaned forward, angrily. "And I am the ruler of those selfsame people! How is it that I have not been told?"
"There were those that thought that your youth would lead you to a rash decision, should you be told. Although I believe the fear was that you would declare war, not offer the hand of friendship..."Sambrian chuckled dryly.
Yevon put his hands on his hips. "Tell me. Now."
Sambrian raised an eyebrow at Yevon's tone. "As you wish. Don't blame me for the nightmares it leaves you with."
He settled himself and cleared his throat softly. "They called them 'The tainted ones'- the children born with the magegift. It was believed that such a child was not fully human. A clear sign of their parent's disloyalty to 'The One'. Thus was their child born part fiend." began Sambrian, steepling his fingers in front of him.
"What? Part fiend? Are you insane?" shouted Legolas, angrily.
Sambrian glared at Legolas. "I do not excuse it, Legolas. I merely tell how it was." He took a steadying breath and continued.
"Most children born thus, were...'purified'...by drowning them in the presence of a priest. It was felt that the human half of the soul was freed at death and went on to the Farplane. It was even considered a kindness by some."
"You are speaking of murdering children," Mira said, horrified.
Sambrian nodded. "Yes. Although some escaped, obviously. Their parents teaching them to deny their gifts in order to survive." he shook his head, sadly.
"Summoners...now summoners were bred. Like dogs, I imagine." Sambrian continued, stiffly. "They needed us to send the dead they had created in order to protect themselves from the resulting fiends. Every household had it's own pet Summoner. Mere servants, of course, denied an education, and kept isolated from others of their kind, including their parents."
"Lord Zane (although he was not called 'Lord' anything at that time) was born into a household of a minor lord, and given the task of watching over his firstborn son. The two grew to be as brothers, and life in that household was fairly good. Until Zane found the younger boy lighting candles with flames he could call to his fingertips." Sambrian said, waving his own fingers in emphasis.
"Zane was horrified, knowing what would happen, should anyone discover this. He desperately ordered Del to never do such a thing again. As you know, denying such a gift is nearly impossible. The boys discovered that when angry, he would sometimes forget, and instinctively call flames to his hands. Desperately, Zane asked some of the other servants to tell him about the 'tainted ones'. Amusing herself by trying to frighten Zane, one old woman told him of a group of 'tainted ones' that met secretly to practice their 'Dark Arts' in the woods outside of Bevelle, during the dark of the moon. Gathering his courage the following week, Zane took Del into the woods, looking for the help he needed." Sambrian looked at Mira, who had leaned forward, entranced by the tale.
"The Mages found the boys lost, and wandering helplessly. Suddenly surrounded by strangers who he had been taught to from birth to fear, Zane thrust Del behind him and challenged those he feared would slay them both where they stood. The Mages, however, were equally terrified that the boys would bring down the wrath of the priests of Bevelle. They stared at each other for a bit, and finally Zane asked them for aid. Once the problem was out in the open the frightened Mages gladly agreed to train Del in the ways to control his gift. In return, Zane swore to never reveal the Mages existence."
Sambrian paused for a moment. "Unfortunately, destiny had other plans for the two boys."
