Chapter 9 – Church and State
Leos walked down the crowded streets of Imperial city under a thick green cloak which was dripping with the rain that seemed to never end in this miserable country. Behind him trailed two other cloaked figures, weaving through the masses of people. Leos stopped for a moment, finding shelter under a set of wide eaves, pulling out a map of the city and looking it over.
"Aerin, what road are we on again?"
"Trolley." His twin answered, his point accented by the distant bell of the pulley-car.
Leos found the road and traced their route with his finger.
"Great, we're about a ten minute walk from the inn we're staying at."
They'd chosen to stay at the inn directly across the street from the courthouse. It was where they quartered defendant's families, jury members, and the press during high profile cases. In the case of his father, it would probably go unnoticed. They'd spent much of the day scrounging for information from the general populous and most seemed to be unaware. They'd discovered the court date from a conversation between two peace officers in a local pub. It would be held in two days.
As they walked on in silence he could see the hanging sign now, its bright red letters calling out "The Big House."
"Clever name." Rachel said, as she fell into step beside him. Leos looked at her and nodded before pushing the glass and wooden door aside as they stepped into a well lit interior. To the left there was a check-in counter, which was barred in. A thin young man in a button-up shirt sat behind it, scrawling on a piece of loose paper. His brown hair was somewhat greasy and flopped into his eyes in a rough bowl cut. When he saw them enter he stuffed the paper under the desk somewhere, pulling up a large, leather bound book.
"Room for three?" he asked, pushing the hair out his eyes, already beginning to fill in some of the necessary information.
"Yes please." Aerin answered, pulling a sack of gold out from under his cloak.
"That'll be two hundred." The boy said, eyeing the bag, "But first I'm going to need a name."
"Rachel Robert." The girl said, stepping forward and pulling the hood of the cloak off her head.
"Alright, I've got you in a two bed room on the second floor, 207" the boy said pulling a key out from a drawer under the desk in exchange for two large hundred piece coins.
Rachel smiled at him, mouthed the words "thank you" and headed for the stairs. Leos and Aerin trailed after her, their packs bouncing on their backs as they headed up to the second floor.
"I wonder if there's room service..." Aerin wondered audibly as they reached the hallway and started watching for their number. "Or those little candies on the pillows..."
Rachel stopped in front their room, waiting for Aerin who had to key.
"Or at least a nice view." He finished, stepping into the darkened room. "Where's the lamp in here?"
"Electric lighting, Bro." Leos said, pressing a large button on the wall that sent the lights flickering to life, illuminating the room.
The two beds were lofted on top of each other on a large metal frame that was pressed up against the right wall. The walls themselves were painted like cinderblocks. Rachel walked to the far wall and pulled back the curtains that covered the windows, revealing two inch metal bars partially blocking their view of the court house.
"Cute," was all she had to say, letting her pack fall to the ground.
Jaycera walked into the dimly lit hallway, one of the electric bulbs flickering ominously. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, turning to the guard who was closing the large metal door behind her.
"Which cell is he in?"
"Follow me... stay quiet. The last thing some of these men need to see is a woman."
The guard led the way through the jungle of metal bars and concrete. She glanced into the cells of the other inmates as they slept fitfully on the raised outcroppings that lined their cells. Finally they reached the end of the hall where the solitary confinement rooms were located. The guard stopped at the second to last cell, inserting the key and turning it with a click, the door squeaking on its metal hinges.
Ryne was lying in the middle of the floor, sleeping on his side, cradling his head in a crooked arm. He was wearing a simple white undershirt and cotton pants, also sporting a week's worth of a white beard. Jaycera stood there looking at him for a moment, her memory flashing to the first time she'd laid eyes on this man. He had been lying stranded on a deserted island which had later become their home. And aside from the beard, he didn't look much older.
She knelt at his side, fighting back tears. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, hearing the sharp intake of breath as he gasped into consciousness, then pushed his shoulder to the cold floor below, pinning him to the ground before planting an urgent, hungry kiss on his lips. When she broke it and pulled away she saw his vibrant green eyes staring back at her, telling her more than he'd ever say.
"Hello to you too," He said finally, grinning slyly, "Is this how you greet all criminals?"
The guard, who was still in the doorframe, laughed heartily. "Do you want me to leave you two alone?"
Ryne craned his neck to look up at him, "Yeah, thanks Friel, that'd be great."
"I'll just leave the door open; I trust you can guard yourselves."
"Thanks again."
Friel nodded and walked off, his heavy footsteps echoing through the hall. Jaycera sat upright and looked at the open door, then back to her husband.
"Pretty lax with the security around here, eh?"
"No," Ryne laughed, pushing himself into a sitting position, "I just have an understanding with some of the guards around here. Being a great guy and having some sort of fame has some perks I guess."
He didn't say anymore, just looked at his wife as if he hadn't seen her in years. Her long, dark, curly ponytail was pleated into a braid that hung down to her waist, except for the bangs that lined her face. She looked much the same as when he'd met her, except for the lines of worry which were beginning to etch themselves into her brow, around her lips, and around her eyes, accenting their stunning blue depths. He reached out a hand and traced those lines with his fingertip.
"Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?"
She reached up and took his hand in her own, holding it tightly, interlocking her fingers with his.
"I wouldn't care what you told me, as long as I got to hear your voice..."
He smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her neck before loosening enough to press his forehead against hers.
"How are we planning on getting me out of here?"
Selina hesitated in front of the door where Markos was being held. It had taken her days to work up the courage to come here at all. Beside her stood two guards in traditional Yafutoman armor, but instead of the long bladed staffs the guards usually carried, they held two rather large guns. She looked at them for a moment, then lifted her arm to knock, only to have the door slip out of reach as it opened, showing a stoic looking Melosian. Selina was startled, but only for a moment, regaining her composure quickly.
"Can I come in?" She asked, avoiding the dark blue hue of his eyes.
"Are you sure you want to?" he said slowly, "After all, you'd be leaving yourself open to my mind."
As he finished the sentence he projected an image into her mind so forcefully she gasped and stumbled backward. The picture of was herself, clothed in black with a large sword held high above her head, her eyes shining red with flame as she stood with her heel on the planet of Arcadia.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image, but unable to do so. It was now burned into her mind. Markos turned on his heel and walked further into the guest home where he was being held. Selina rubbed her eyes and followed him inside.
"What was that?" she asked finally as she trailed him to the kitchen.
Markos poured himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly before answering, "That is your future, Selina."
The young Silvite blinked hard a couple times before leaning against the wall and staring blankly for a moment, still haunted by the image. Finally her eyes focused on the man before her, noticing that his eyes were upon her as well, staring intently. She almost felt violated.
"This is the same vision that The Seer had, thousands of years ago."
"So it's true..." she whispered softly to herself, sliding down the wall slowly and pulling her knees up to her chest. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
Markos sighed and sat down on the floor next to her, folding his arms across his raised knees.
"I can tell you why your father never told you."
She looked over at him, a confused and slightly accusing look on her face, "How do you know what my father was thinking?"
"He was there, when we were fleeing Nasrad. My mind brushed his when he summoned the power of the moons to defeat those shadow warriors." Selina's eyes widened for a moment, but she stayed silent, waiting. "He never told you because he wanted you to write your own destiny, not conform to a path already laid out for you."
Selina finally found it in herself to look into his dark blue eyes, finding comfort there and appreciating it. She smiled and leaned her small frame against his, resting her head on his shoulder. He did nothing, neither acknowledging, nor denying this gesture.
"These people think you're evil." She said finally.
"I know."
"Are they right?"
Markos inhaled deeply, pushing the air back out through pursed lips. He'd been expecting this question, but he still hadn't figured out how to answer it.
"By what standard should we measure evil?" he said finally. "Who set the social norms that define good and evil? It is society as a whole that decides. My people have been abandoned by that global society, which is why to some we may appear to be evil... when in fact we follow a different set of social and moral codes and values."
"What do you mean?"
"For example, here in Yafutoma, honor is of highest social value. In Valua, power and intelligence are important traits. And among the sailors, loyalty and trust are paramount."
"What values do your people hold then?"
"Passion, above all else," he said without hesitation, "When we want something, we pursue it with passion and tenacity, until we are beaten or it is ours. This full, unbridled passion is frowned up in the rest of the global society, which is why we were, and are, thought to be evil."
Selina looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
"You've never struck me as the 'passionate' type, Markos."
"A fact I'm very proud of." He said slowly, "Uncontrolled passion is a dangerous thing. If left to its own devices it would control and consume a person until they are lost to all but itself."
"So, is there any reason why we should bust you out of here?" Jaycera asked, running her fingers through her husband's hair. His head lay in her lap comfortably as she played with his scalp, "Leos is itching to do a repeat of your father's little stunt."
"You did tell him that this was over forty years ago, right?"
"I tried, but he never seems to listen."
"Yeah, they never seem to listen, do they?" Ryne rested his hands on his stomach, twiddling his thumbs, "We got a son who wants to break in an out of prisons and a daughter who's supposed to take over the world."
A distant creaking door interrupted the short silence between them. Someone had entered one of the outer doors that led to the cells, two sets of footfalls resounding through the brick, mortar, and steel walls.
"At least Aerin's turning out all right."
Ryne chortled, the laugh coming more out of his nose than his mouth. He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and index finger, as if that action would massage his eyes into clarity.
"No, there should be no reason to bust me out of here." He said slowly, as if he weren't totally sure of this statement, "Wallin said he'd be able to pull some political strings. But after Rafe... I don't know what to expect from Valuans anymore."
"Well, I'll tell you one thing you can expect," came a new voice, strong and reassuring, "We always finish what we start."
Jaycera looked up at Wallin, smiling widely as Ryne lifted his head out of her lap and went up into a cross legged sitting position. His face was painted with a grin that was almost too natural, half forgetting the last sentence that came out of his mouth. No wonder the man was such a good politician.
"I'm sorry, was I interrupting anything?" He asked looking over Jay with a goofy smile, then back to Ryne.
"Nothing you can't get in on." Ry said, patting the concrete floor beside him, inviting him to sit, "I'd get you a chair but my skills as a host are lacking of late."
"It's ok, I'd rather stand anyway." He said, running his hands down the sides of his brown jacket and pants, "The little lady just pressed them for me an hour ago."
"Sly Daragain!" Jaycera exclaimed loudly, her eyes shimmering with delight, "Who made an honest man out of you?"
Their old friend laughed, the small bit of paunch he'd accumulated over the years wagging over his tightly stretched belt.
"Well, I don't know about honest, I AM a lawyer you know..." his voice trailed off mysteriously, "YOUR lawyer I might add. How much am I going to have to stretch the law?"
The tone of the conversation seamlessly shifted from humor to business, in a way that only Wallin could have managed. His charisma had gotten him somewhere in the rising power of the Republic of Valua. He was widely regarded to be one of the top lawyers in the nation, losing only three cases out of a hundred in the past years. His smooth speech, clever tongue, and infernal wit kept the jury on his side, while his keen intelligence shifted the facts to favor his side. It was well known that a few of his clients had been undeniably guilty. Of course, thanks to the ideal known as double jeopardy, they were allowed to stay in the graces of the justice system.
"I doubt you're going to have to do much." Ryne answered, "Unless your professional opinion forbids it, I'd like to get diplomatic immunity."
Wallin clicked his tongue thoughtfully, checking over the facts as he knew them in his head.
"Shouldn't be too hard." He said finally, "The records show that you did not, in fact, fire any weaponry upon arrival into Valuan airspace. And the fact that you've been so well behaved during your stay here should speak well." Wallin chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before continuing, "As a matter of fact, I can't find any reason why they should have arrested you in the first place. You've shown no record of past enmity toward Valua, you've never harmed a Valuan citizen, you've never-"
"-but I have, Sly." Ryne interrupted, "In Nasrad, I killed two of your shadow warriors..."
Wallin stopped cold, his brow bunching over hazel eyes, his mouth pinching together tightly. "Ryne, Valua doesn't officially employ shadow warriors anymore. The whole training program was abandoned. Assassination was voted upon by the Senate as 'inhumane'."
Ryne mouth gaped open slightly, his eyes turning from Wallin and glazing over into unfocused thought. He started to chew absentmindedly on his own tongue, leaning backwards onto his hands.
"But Rafe..."
"You saw Rafe?" Wallin asked, a little too excitedly. Ryne looked back at him with a frown.
"Yeah, he was the one leading the group that tried to kill my daughter--"
"—someone tried to KILL Selina?" Wallin interjected, the shock evident by his slacking jaw. Ryne cocked his head slightly, biting his bottom lip softly.
"Yeah, that's the reason I came to Valua." He said slowly, then continued when he saw further explanation was warranted, "Selina was attacked by a small group of shadow warriors in Nasrad more than a week ago. I killed two of them in the city, and tracked down the others, finding Rafe to be their squad leader. I assumed that Valua was behind the attack so I came to find some answers, only to be arrested."
Wallin stood for a moment, a blank stare on his face as if he'd retreated into himself. Then he shook his head and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall. He rubbed his smooth cheek before looking back to Ryne and Jay.
"Why would the Navy arrest you though? Shadow Warriors haven't been used for years, and aren't a part of the Valuan militaristic forces. Those had to be mercenaries you dealt with, who shouldn't have had any contact whatsoever with Valua."
"What about the Nasultan? What if he recognized the Shadow Warriors and sent word of their death by my hands?"
"He still doesn't trust Valua. In fact, most of the people who saw you kill them probably thought you did it to defend their city. He'd probably support your attacking Imperial City."
"What happened to Rafe?" Jaycera asked, taking in the information flooding her and beginning to form some ideas of her own, "You seemed surprised to hear that he'd been seen. Why?"
"I haven't seen Rafe in nearly fourteen years," Wallin sighed, "Neither has any one else. The last I'd heard was that after we'd returned the last Silvite War he'd become extremely active in Church of the Moons. He'd become a priest or something..."
"That's it." Jaycera said, "It's the church. The church is trying to kill my baby."
Ryne was silent, the truth slowly beginning to dawn on him. Wallin however, who never considered himself much of a religious man, was thoroughly confused by this notion.
"Why would the church want to kill Selina? I thought they were all about 'peace', 'love', 'harmony' and all that other mushy crap."
Ryne sat up straight, looking Wallin in the eyes gravely.
"Have you ever heard of the Prophecy of the Seer?"
Enyan and Stalde sat in a small bar in Esperenza, eating the best kabal skewers either had ever tasted, though neither was dwelling on this fact. They'd been waiting in this town for too long. Stalde was getting impatient. Enyan was just bored. Despite the people's attempts at advertising a new "prosperous" Esperenza, the town was still pretty much a dump. Stalde noticed that there seemed to be more people, but other than that it was still the rusty, semi-industrial town he'd frequented during his younger days as a mercenary.
Enyan went to push his glassed back up onto his nose, only to notice that he'd rubbed some of the spicy sauce from the skewer onto his lenses. He frowned and took them off, rubbing them on a napkin. Then, still not satisfied, he finished the job with his own shirt then perched them back on his nose.
Stalde was looking out the window, watching a couple of dark skinned kids kick a ball around with a pale boy and his pet huskra. The innocence of the moment dulled the frustration that was beginning to form a knot in his neck. He'd wanted to try to catch the girl by running through the safe route in the Black Rift, but apparently the rift had been acting more violently lately. The safe route was no longer safe, and had in fact devoured three trade ships already. And so they were stuck here
He was wrestling with the idea of telling his younger companion everything. He didn't really know why he'd requested the young man's presence for this murderous mission. He certainly wasn't equipped to lend a hand in dealing out the death that the job required. He was probably squeamish just at the sight of blood.
Why then, was he here? What was he trying to accomplish by bringing along this religious scholar?
Perhaps to satisfy his own conscience. Before the Shadow Warriors, he hadn't seen death since... well, he didn't particularly want to dwell on that. But the thought of killing a young woman was beginning to unsettle his stomach. Perhaps he thought that Enyan could give him some sort of divine justification.
The image of image of the Seer's prophecy kept circling back into his brain, along with something Enyan said weeks ago about the way she held her sword and uncertainty. He'd forgotten up until that point. Maybe this was what was haunting him. The thought that maybe this wasn't her destiny after all. It didn't make sense for a destiny to be uncertain.
"We're leaving Enyan."
The younger man wiped his mouth on his sleeve, leaving a maroon smear down its length.
"Where are we going?"
"Back to Imperial City." He answered, leaving his half eaten plate of kabal skewers lying on the china plate and walking out the double door, hearing the religion professor clamor after him.
"Why?" Enyan asked as he caught up, kicking dust into the air.
"Because we need to study," He said walking briskly toward the dock. "I need some assurance. And I need to catch you up on a couple things too..."
In the height of the Melosian society there was no word for "war". Their closest equivalent was the word "vengeance", which was one of the main pillars of their culture. Every injustice was pursued until it had been repaid. The problem was it was hardly ever repaid equally, creating the need for revenge on the receiver's behalf. The cycle of vengeance consumed them whole, devoting all of their passion to devising ways to pay back those who wronged them. They became the most innovative weapon designers of their time.
When they found out that their Sun God had wronged them, they sought vengeance in the only way they knew how. They decided to punish it by killing off those who were in its favor.
However, not even this grand pursuit could distract them for long against their own personal vendettas. It was then that one man realized that in order to achieve this Grand Vengeance his people would have to be united...