Chapter 11
There is Always Some Madness in Love...
But there is Also Always Some Reason in Madness(1)
Things got busy again, fast. Soon there wasn't enough time to think about right, wrong or indifferent, just getting things done. Edward preferred it that way. He hated to admit it to himself, but he never did enjoy being a leader. When he had been in part of the Force for some reason the idea always drew him, the idea of taking command and leading them to victory. Sigmund was an inspiring man and, perhaps, Ed thought, that was one reason he'd thought it would be such an admirable position. Instead, when he finally got what he wanted, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Leading, or ruling in his case, was far more demanding than he'd ever thought it might be. Not that he'd thought it would ever be easy, just that he didn't realise just how good he was at taking orders. In fact, he enjoyed taking orders, it gave him a sense of purpose. Tell him to escort someone safely to a town, kill some dangerous beast, keep someone safe, go and retrieve some rare artefact, save the bloody world but please god don't ask him about governing any more.
Edward hated ruling Burgusstadt. He hadn't realised just how much he hated it until now, until he had once again been given some sort of purpose. The idea of sitting in his office signing papers, or listening to the people of his city lining up to complain, to request, to ask anything more of him made him feel sick to his stomach. Always asking, never giving, that's all this job was. Looking after someone he cared about was something Edward could relate to, something he could empathise with. Following a goal, working towards an achievement, that was something he could visualise. Ruling? For how long? To what end? It was a mission with no goal. Edward preferred to have goals.
"Your Majesty, the Headmaster of The Academy requests an audience," Edward heard the Page enter but didn't turn to face him.
"Send him to the audience chamber," Edward said as he continued to drag the sharp pencil along the parchment before him, "I will see him when I am ready."
"Y-yes," the Page stammered, sounding nervous, adding almost as an afterthought, "your majesty."
Edward looked up distractedly as the door closed. He'd been getting that reaction a lot lately, that fearful, confused reaction; it was starting to bother him a little. Not enough, but he still noticed it. Edward shook his head and sighed, pushing the thought to the back of his mind. It was all coming together, slowly but surely. Before all of this he'd been so worried that his mind was simply falling apart but now...now everything seemed clearer, more focused. Brighter.
He set the pencil down and surveyed his work. It seemed a little rough around the edges but he was sure that the Headmaster and Kiriya could help him straighten it out. Any modifications it would need could be added by himself after its completion which shouldn't take any longer than two days. He would have the carpenters and joiners begin work on the more rudimentary parts of its design straight away. Everything would be ready in time for the eclipse.
"Ah, greetings your majesty," the Headmaster managed to hide his thinly veiled anger at being kept waiting for thirty minutes admirably considering, well, how thinly veiled it was.
"I have some plans to discuss with you," Edward said bluntly, walking by the Headmaster with barely a nod before seating himself on the throne like chair in the audience chamber.
Before the changes Edward had always conducted his meetings in a far less formal setting, usually in one of the smaller conference chambers or even the smaller sitting rooms. The large and imposing audience chamber had always felt too cold and detached to him, forcing the visiting dignitaries to stand while they gave their propositions to him while he sat and looked down on them. Now, watching the Headmaster try not to look insulted and worried that he had done something to insult the King and lose favour with him, Edward wondered why he never enjoyed this before.
"Your Majesty, if you please, I was hoping to discuss the plans for the dispensation of data recorded during the..." the Headmaster started, rather arrogantly Edward thought.
"Please, Headmaster, all in good time," Edward smiled, raising his hand to silence the older man, "I need you to look over something for me first."
"Look over..? What is it?" the Headmaster took a moment to recover from Edward's interruption, floundering in the silence.
"Here," Edward reached into his thick, black robes and pulled out the roll of parchment, holding it out to the Headmaster, "I would like both yourself and Kiriya to look over these designs and have them back to me by tonight."
He enjoyed the Headmaster's look of indignation mixed with sheer awe and confusion. He blinked at the page and looked back to Edward warily.
"My Lord," he started cautiously, "there is really no need for such expense, we and the other scientists attending the event are bringing our own equipment which is more than apt to deal wi..."
"I realise that," Edward said placatingly, offset by his rather patronising smile, "but I don't wish to lose any opportunity to record important data by using out of date equipment, not when we can use something solely designed for this purpose."
"But...but who created these designs, my Lord?" the Headmaster asked, "I've never seen anything like them before, this machine is..."
"That isn't important, all that I need you to do is to outline just what modifications need to be made to have it function to the specifications detailed on these design blueprints," Edward said, smile never shifting, eyes hardening, "understand?"
"Y-yes," the Headmaster nodded, swallowing, as the look of indignation fled from his eyes, replaced by something more like worry, "your Majesty."
Again, there was that fear again. Edward frowned, making the Headmaster back away from him slightly. That only annoyed Edward further. He stood, gave his farewell to the Headmaster and told him he would see both himself and Kiriya back in this chamber later that night. Then he left, swallowing down the sour taste in his mouth.
'Something is wrong'
"Shut up," he growled out, shaking his head.
Everything was just fine. There was nothing wrong. The translation from the book had told him everything he needed to know and now...now he was following his instructions, which was what he preferred.
'Who's instructions?'
"Stop asking questions," he muttered back under his breath, glad when he reached the safety of his office; he hated having these conversations in the open, it made him feel vulnerable.
'Where's Capell?'
"I told you to shut up!" Edward said roughly, "There isn't time for questions, there isn't time for Capell, we have our instructions and we'll follow them. Understand?"
Blessed silence followed. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and leaning against the window next to his desk, basking in the warmth of the sun that shone through. The voice irritated him; it had started not long before the book had given him his instructions, before everything became clearer. Except the voice confused him, always questioning everything, and he had no idea where it was coming from. At first it had scared the hell out of him, he thought he'd finally lost all semblance of sanity. He wanted to ask for help, but was worried that would be a bad decision, that people wouldn't believe him, that he wouldn't get a chance to finish his plans and that was the most important thing right now. So he'd lived with the voice ever since and now he'd become used to it, even if it did irritate the hell out of him and constantly question his actions.
Edward looked up at the empty wall behind his desk, feeling an absent stab of guilt which he quickly suppressed. He remembered how he'd first worried, irrationally yet still believably, that the voice he was hearing was Sigmund's. It said things he would say and the more Edward looked at the portrait in his office, the more he became paranoid, convinced the voice was his dead friend, questioning him persistently. He began to doubt the logic of blindly following these orders, he began to feel nauseous at the prospect of understanding exactly what was going on and how he had come to be in this situation. So he had made a choice there and then, taken the portrait down and hidden it in a cupboard so that its accusing eyes couldn't follow him around the room any more. Of course Vic had asked questions, looked very concerned, but Edward knew how to sweet talk his way around Vic and it worked ninety eight percent of the time. The other two percent involved a little inventive diversion which always ended up in Edward's favour. It hadn't stopped the voice however, which had disappointed him a little. It sounded so much more rational than he did, which worried him on some visceral level, and sometimes its questions were hard not to think about.
Like when it asked about Capell.
"Why does love have to be so complicated?" Edward asked the empty room, not expecting any answer, "Why can't it just be simple like everything else has become?"
'Nothing is simple'
"Leave me alone," Edward said, feeling a little hopeless as he slid down into his chair and put his head into his hands, "just...leave me alone."
Whose instructions? Edward thought as the voice echoed through his mind. He knew who, he knew and yet somehow he couldn't bring himself to be worried by it as he thought he should be. His position here in Burgusstadt gave him this position and, as far as he could tell, he should feel honoured, not threatened. This world was lacking the order that a new god would bring and, as its emissary, he was in the position to bring about that order. That was what he wanted now, wasn't it? He shouldn't question anything, he was loyal, he was getting what he wanted, it made no sense.
So why did he? Sometimes, when he managed to think about it on a deeper level, it seemed so very wrong and he couldn't figure out why. Sometimes he felt as if he was refusing to think about it. Capell didn't help. Sometimes he felt as if the mere mention of the other man's name was a catalyst for the confusing and disturbing thoughts he had. So he tried to avoid contact with his name at all costs, which wasn't too difficult when he was doing a good job of avoiding most people at all costs unless strictly necessary. The others worried, he could see that. He did and didn't worry, he did and didn't care.
Time seemed to stream out forever in front of him and yet somehow he was allayed by a strict sense of urgency. There were limits, yet there were none, there were threats and yet he was free. Slowly he was coming to terms with this odd dichotomy, while at the same time he rebelled against it. That was all he could think his inner voice was, a rebellion against his own complacency and acceptance.
Everything would come together soon, he thought with resentful pride.
He looked into the sun and squinted his eyes against the glare.
Across the sand, the haze filled desert of prophecy, the beginning of the dire and the end of life, a man was beginning to realise something he thought must not be real. It both saddened and made him elated all at once and, secure in his decision, he set out to fulfil what he realised had been what he wanted all along.
AN: Sorry if this seems like a bit of a jump from the last chapter, I'm not sure if I've handled the transition very well for Edward, please let me know what you think! Thanks so much for all the reviews/favourites, you guys are great
(1) Friedrich Nietzsche
