Queen of Sorrow

by Lord Syntax

In stories, the hero always arrives just in time to rescue the captured damsel. But in reality, the world does not work that way. When no hero comes to save Lucia's life, Elincia embarks on a path of sorrow, pain, and perchance evil. // Radiant Dawn AU

38. The New Order

Chapter 38: The New Order

Elincia awaited the laguz envoys in her throne room, protected by a dozen members of her palace guard as well as Bertram, who was standing on the right side of the throne. She usually preferred to keep the number of guards as small as possible, but the failed assassination attempt in the streets of Melior had made her more sensitive toward threats to her own safety. By all rights, Geoffrey should have been first among his queen's protectors, but he was not with her anymore.

Elincia could not afford to be distracted during the coming 'negotiations', but she was not fool enough to believe that she could just stop thinking about Geoffrey and his untimely end. Rather than attempting the impossible, she decided to always keep him at the back of her mind, to imagine that he was watching over her from a better place like a guardian angel from a fairy tale. It was a childish way of thinking, but it was much, much better than the idea that Geoffrey was gone forever from this and any other world, his existence erased without a trace.

Right next to the throne, to Elincia's left, Silok was sitting at a small writing desk. Today would be his first day as the queen's secretary. Under different circumstances, he probably would have been extremely nervous, but the news of Geoffrey's death had affected him deeply. Upon learning that the man who had freed him from the clutches of his Daein tormentors had been murdered, he had erupted into tears, but he had insisted on taking up his new position as Elincia's aide even when she had told him that he needed not push himself. "You cannot afford to take a break at a time like this, no matter how much you may need it," Silok had told her, "and so neither can I." Now that he was sitting next to Elincia two hours later, his eyes were still red from crying, but his expression was one of unobtrusive resolve, promising that he would do his work quickly, properly and without calling attention to himself.

On the right side of the throne, within an arm's reach of the duly-suspicious Bertram, stood Naesala and Micaiah, their presence requested by Elincia for the sake of demonstrating that she commanded not one, but three entire nations. Both of them were unhappy to be put on display in such a manner, but Elincia had made it perfectly clear that she would not take 'no' for an answer.

On the left side of the throne, next to Silok's desk, stood Kieran, temporary commander of the Royal Knights, and Mordecai, representing the small group of Gallians who had willingly come to Crimea's aid. The tall tiger laguz had been reluctant to accept Elincia's invitation, be it out of shame that he had not sided with his home country or because he disapproved of the queen's methods, but in the end, he had agreed on the condition that Elincia would not harm the envoys under any circumstances. Since she was holding the enemy's entire armies hostage, Elincia saw no need for atrocities anymore, and had agreed to his condition.

So it was, with her slaves and allies on her side, that the Queen of Crimea received the first envoys: Ulki and Janaff, the 'eyes and ears' of the deceased Tibarn, who had jointly assumed command of the forces of Phoenicis. The two hawk laguz, stopping at the white line that had been drawn on the carpet again, carried themselves with the same pride as all members of their tribe did, as if the future of their soldiers, and therefore, their nation, was not entirely in the hands of Elincia. She resolved to let them keep their pride as long as they were cooperative.

"Welcome," Elincia said politely. She was still wearing her armor – it seemed to her that recently, she was wearing nothing else – but she tried not to appear overly martial, even though she was ready to drop all pretenses and resort to threats when it became necessary. "I called you here to discuss what shape relations between our countries should take in the future."

"Discuss? Don't make me laugh." Janaff spat on the carpet, his arms crossed before his chest. "You want us to take our place among your other slaves."

"The people of Phoenicis have long since considered slavery a fate worse than death," Ulki said, much calmer than his comrade, but every bit as contemptuous. "If you threaten us with destruction, you will find out just how deep-seated that conviction is among the hawk tribe."

"I have no doubt that this is true, assuming Tibarn was at all representative of your people," Elincia said dryly. "Stop defiling our king's name by speaking it," Janaff growled. "You weren't even brave enough to face him in person!"

"I faced Ike in person, who in turn proved to have been more powerful than Tibarn," Elincia said haughtily, though part of her wondered why she cared what Janaff thought of her courage. "But even so, courage and power don't count as much among beorc as among the laguz," she added. "We're called 'Children of Wisdom', after all."

"Wisdom?" Janaff laughed. "I call it deceit! That trick you pulled with Lerahn's Medallion was the lowest of the low. Not even Ashnard would have done that!"

"I like to think that he wouldn't have been resourceful enough to come up with the idea," Elincia said with a thin smile. Being compared to the mad king of Daein had lost its sting. "I have no intention to enslave Phoenicis," she continued matter-of-factly, "only to ensure her allegiance."

"That's just mincing words," Janaff accused her, but Elincia shook her head. "No, it's different." She looked at Silok and pointed at the document tube lying on his desk. "Please read the terms of the treaty to us."

"Yes, Your Highness," Silok replied. He removed three documents from the tube, putting them on his desk and proceeding to read out the writing on the first sheet, his voice surprisingly loud and free of stuttering. "With the signing of this document by her rightful ruler, the nation of Phoenicis shall forever become friend and ally to the nation of Crimea. The forces of Phoenicis must never go to war against Crimea or aid her enemies, and they must heed her call to arms whenever she is in need of the hawk tribe's military strength."

"It's just like I said," Janaff exclaimed. "It's nothing but slavery. Our soldiers would be less than mercenaries for you, because at least mercenaries get paid!"

"That much is true," Elincia admitted, "but you're focusing too much on what is written in the treaty. Please think about what is not written there."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"A pity." Elincia looked at Ulki, who had always seemed the more thoughtful of the two hawks – perhaps because he had a natural penchant to carefully listening to the words of others. "What about you?"

"I agree with Janaff that this treaty would make the soldiers of our tribe little more than slaves to you," Ulki replied. "And seeing as we are both soldiers, that is highly unsettling. However..."

"However?" Janaff stared at Ulki in open outrage. "Don't get started with 'however'! We agreed beforehand that we would never let our nation be enslaved by Crimea."

"Allow me to spell it out to you before you rip into your friend," Elincia said. "According to the terms of this treaty, Crimea will have no say about Phoenicis' domestic affairs. Your choice of kings, your laws and commerce, how you live and work... all these things will be yours to determine, as they always have been." Janaff looked at Elincia with open distrust, but at least he did not interrupt her. "I have neither the desire nor the inclination to tell the hawk tribe how to conduct their own affairs. My duty is toward Crimea, to safeguard her territory and protect her people." She turned her gaze to Ulki, then back to Janaff, then to Ulki again. "You both got to know me at least a little during the Mad King's War. Are my words that hard to believe?"

"They would certainly be easier to believe if you agreed to let our soldiers return home," Ulki said.

"Not that your little encirclement could keep us from leaving whenever we wanted to," Janaff added and spread his wings in demonstration. "But you'd probably take that as an excuse to massacre our allies who are stuck on the ground."

"I wouldn't be so sure of your ability to escape my grasp at will," Elincia said. "There are archers among the troops surrounding you, and you would pay a heavy price for your freedom."

"And here we are," Janaff jeered. "Death threats. Took you longer than expected."

"Indeed," Ulki agreed. "Your attitude does little to engender trust in us. Perhaps you just don't realize anymore how you sound to others..."

"I realize it just fine," Elincia said earnestly. "I simply don't care."

"So might makes right, is that it?" Janaff asked, his face rife with scorn. "Is that the lesson you took away from the Mad King's War?"

"Right counts for little in a war. I certainly don't remember Ashnard recognizing my claim to the throne of Crimea and giving up," Elincia said testily. "He was overcome by brute force, and nothing else. Therefore, I think you should rephrase your words." She spent a few seconds in contemplation before continuing. "I think 'no right without might' would be more accurate."

"Bah. You're mincing words again," Janaff said gruffly, but Ulki did not seem to agree with him. "If Phoenicis were to sign this treaty," he said, "would you let our soldiers leave immediately?"

"Immediately," Elincia replied without hesitation.

"You're not seriously thinking about signing this?" Janaff asked incredulously. "Don't you remember what Ike told us about the blood pacts? Once they're signed, they're incredibly hard to break, if at all. Maybe you're fine with signing this 'treaty', but I'm not!"

"That should not be a problem," Ulki said. "After all, a nation can only have one king."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Janaff scowled deeply at his friend. "Do you want to fight me to find out who is the stronger?"

"I like to think that we're evenly matched," Ulki replied. "So how about we let this decide?" He produced a small golden coin from a pocket. "It's an Imperial ducat... a memento from my first raid on a Begnion vessel, many years ago." He was too far away from Elincia to say for sure, but it seemed that there was a smile on his angular features. "You know the beorc game of heads or tails, don't you?"

Ulki is a gambler? I had no idea...

"You can't be serious," Janaff said incredulously. "That's no way to decide the fate of a kingdom!"

"Strange times call for strange measures," Ulki mused.

"Measure yourself," Janaff snarled in open disgust. "I'm out of here." He kept shaking his head all the way to the door of the throne room. "All hail King Ulki!" he shouted as he slipped through the door and slammed it shut behind him.

"He will see reason in time," Ulki said to Elincia, although the frown of his face looked like a sign of uncertainty. "And even if he doesn't... losing a friend is a small price to pay to preserve one's kingdom."

"Were you really going to let this coin decide?" Elincia asked doubtfully.

"No," Ulki said and shook his head. "I merely wanted Janaff to make a choice... which he did." He put the coin back into his pocket and glanced at the door through which his friend had left. "His courage and strength are equal to mine, but he aspires to a more... carefree life."

"Rest assured, the last thing a ruler can be in this world is carefree," Elincia said. "Now, Ulki... no, Hawk King..." She motioned him to approach Silok's desk. "Please sign the pact with your blood."

"I will," Ulki said with a joyless expression on his face, walked over to Silok and accepted a quill from his hands. "We will be your allies," he said to Elincia, "but neither my people nor I will hold any love for you."

"Don't worry," Elincia said bitterly, recalling Geoffrey's cruel, sudden fate that had only served to further blunt her already numb emotions. "I have no need of this foolishness called love."

"Is that so," Ulki mused and without asking cut his palm on a silver axe hanging on Kieran's belt. Its owner stared in shock at the sight of his prize weapon being blemished, but Ulki paid him no heed and dipped the quill into the blood flowing from his wound. Silok presented him the treaty, written on one of the enchanted sheets of paper Volke had brought with him from Sienne, and after a last moment of hesitation, Ulki signed it. "Now it is your turn, Queen of Crimea," he said coldly, his posture and voice revealing that he was prepared for betrayal.

Why is everybody so distrustful of me? Elincia wondered, and almost burst out in laughter at her own stupid question. I certainly wouldn't trust me if I were in his shoes, so I have no right to complain.

"Send word to our forces immediately," Elincia told one of her guards. "The soldiers of Phoenicis may depart at their leisure. Oh, and send in the envoys from Gallia on your way out."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"As for you, Hawk King," Elincia addressed Ulki. "While I'm sure you would prefer to convince yourself that your men are free to go home, I would like you to stay here for a little while longer." Ulki frowned when he heard her request, but did not protest. "Why don't you stand next to Naesala?"

Ulki grimaced at the thought of standing next to the hated Raven King (which prompted Elincia to wonder whether he despised him even more than her), but joined him obediently and without a word.

"Welcome to the fold, my fellow slave," Naesala greeted him with spurious cheerfulness. "Ah, I meant to say fellow king. Slip of the tongue." Ulki did not acknowledge his words or even his presence, but he continued nonetheless. "That's quite selfish of you, selling out your country for the sake of your personal gain. But I guess the silent types are also the ambitious ones."

"Shut your beak, Naesala," Elincia growled. "You're best seen, not heard."

"If it pleases my mistress," the Raven King replied in the chilling blend of sarcasm and hatred that he always used with Elincia. Not for the first time, she wondered whether she should replace him, but that was not a decision she would make today.

"Finally!" a deep, roaring voice suddenly sounded from the throne room's antechamber, and moments later, both wings of the door were thrown open. Marching through came Skrimir, the young King of Gallia, whom Elincia had seen lying on the ground bleeding only a few hours ago. He was accompanied by Giffca, the man who had been his uncle's shadow, and now appeared to be his successor. Elincia wondered whether he blamed her for the death of his master – there was no doubt that Skrimir did – but this was not the time to ask, and she was afraid of the answer anyway.

"Cross that line at your own peril," Elincia warned Skrimir, who was stomping toward her with no intention of stopping. She heard the sound of Bertram unsheathing his sword, but Giffca averted calamity by putting his hand on his young master's shoulders, holding him back. Skrimir glared at his shadow and shook off his hand, but did not cross the white line.

"You're a monster," he accused her instead. "Using dark magic to turn friend against friend. This is unforgivable!"

"I do not recall asking for your forgiveness," Elincia said coolly. Of course Skrimir's accusation was entirely true, so she did not bother trying to defend herself. "We are not here to talk about the past," she said, "but about the future."

"What future?" Skrimir roared. "Kill me and be done with it! That's why you called me here – so you could execute me in front of your minions." He glared at Ulki and Naesala, passed over Micaiah and the other beorc, and cast an especially hateful glance at Mordecai. "You even have a traitor from Gallia among your numbers."

"Mordecai is no traitor," Mordecai said, but Elincia shook her head. This was not the time for debates about honor and loyalty between the two laguz. "Listen to me," she said instead to Skrimir, "and try to calm–"

"Come on, do it!" Skrimir yelled and tore open his robe, revealing his chest. "Come and stab me in the heart! I'll tear your throat out before you draw a single drop of blood!"

"Your Majesty," Giffca began, but Skrimir raised a hand to make him shut up. Elincia could see the frustration on the black lion's face and sympathized with him.

"Are you to afraid to get your hands dirty?" Skrimir shouted. "Then why not send one of your many minions? Or use your mind-warping trinket on me for sports, to see how many of them I can tear apart before I fall!"

"Your Majesty, you must listen to me," Giffca tried again. "It is your duty as the King of Gallia to–"

"You don't get it!" Skrimir blurted out at him. "We are all dead! All Gallians caught in her net are dead! That witch is just having a hard time settling on the killing order!"

"She invited you here to negotiate," Giffca pleaded. "At least listen to what she has to say."

"Why should I listen to her mockery?" Skrimir snarled. "It's pointless."

"Queen Elincia," Giffca addressed her directly. "Please understand that Skrimir is still angry about what happened... about what was done to Ike. I ask you to postpone the negotiations until tomorrow."

"No," Elincia said firmly. "This must be settled today. I cannot allow this little temper tantrum of his to delay my schedule." Of course it was not a question of scheduling as much as it was one of authority – she had no intention of submitting to Skrimir's moods, especially not in front of her allies.

"I see," Giffca said and turned toward Skrimir. "Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said and slapped the King of Gallia across the face. Dead silence settled over the throne room, except for a muted chuckle that sounded like Naesala, while Skrimir stared at Giffca who did not avoid his gaze. Elincia could only see the back of his red-maned head, and wondered what expression the young king was wearing right now.

"This will have consequences," Skrimir finally said to Giffca before turning around. "I've calmed down a bit," he said to Elincia, his face marginally less red than before. "What do you want?"

A marked improvement, Elincia thought and made Skrimir the same offer she had made Ulki and Janaff, emphasizing that Gallia would retain full freedom over her internal affairs. She had Silok read the terms of the blood pacts for him – the wording was identical to the one with Phoenicis – and awaited his reply. When it came, Skrimir sounded like a completely different person, speaking slowly and choosing his words with care.

"When I was a young child, my uncle made me learn the beorc language. In the beginning, I had much trouble with it, but in the end, I learned to speak it well. Some of the words were particularly hard to understand... words that don't exist in nature. Words for things that can't be touched, like 'kingdom' and 'fealty' and 'law'... words that are called 'abstract'. Those were the words I struggled with."

Where in the world is he going with this? And why is he so eloquent all of a sudden? There was only one reasonable answer to that question: Skrimir had always been able to speak well – as the future ruler of a nation that tried to deepen its ties with the beorc, that was to be expected, and King Caineghis would not have allowed his nephew to neglect his education. His loud, savage and angry demeanor was simply his personal choice – how he wanted to be, not how he was supposed to be. Perhaps we will find some common ground after all, Elincia thought, but like so many times before, her hopes were quickly shattered.

"Among those abstract words, there was one that I've never understood for many years," Skrimir continued. "Its meaning eluded me, and after a while, I suspected that the word had no meaning at all. But eventually, I was proven wrong." He made a dramatic pause and looked at Elincia with accusing eyes. "The word was 'evil'."

Why am I not surprised?

"There are many words to describe a beorc or a laguz of whose actions you don't approve," Skrimir said. "Prideful. Ignorant. Greedy. Reckless. Vengeful. Power-hungry. Murderous. For each of these words, I have met people who could be described by them." He gave a short laugh. "Several of them have been used to describe me."

I can see why.

"Three years ago, when Ranulf returned from the war against King Ashnard, I asked him everything about it – because I had wanted to be there and prove my strength! He told me many stories, about the war and the fighting. About Ike and Ashnard and even about you, Queen of Crimea. But there was one story that stood out the most: The story about the Feral Ones." Skrimir closed his eyes in recollection even as he continued to talk. "He told me of laguz who had been twisted completely, driven insane by torture and poison. Laguz who had forgotten who they were, and were being used by Daein to fight their former friends. I didn't believe him at first, not until Giffca and others confirmed his story." Skrimir opened his eyes again, and Elincia saw deep-seated contempt in them. "That's how I learned about evil," he said. "There are many reasons to destroy a man's body... honor, anger, vengeance, war. But destroying a man's mind and soul, turning them against the ones he loved... that is true evil." He glared at Elincia with cold fury. "And that is what you have done. You destroyed Ike's mind. You made him kill his friends and family. That cannot be forgiven."

"Are you finished yet?" Elincia snarled. She knew exactly what she had done – she did not need to have it recounted by somebody else! But isn't this what I've always asked for? That people should judge me?

"I accept your verdict," she said to Skrimir. "I am evil, guilty as charged. Let everybody in this room take note of it." She chuckled when she saw Silok make an actual note of it on paper. "What now?"

"There's one more thing about evil," Skrimir replied. "Something that everybody I talked to agreed on." He raised his head high and somehow managed to look down on Elincia even though she was sitting in an elevated position. "Evil must be opposed."

"I take that to mean that you have no intention of signing the blood pact," Elincia said dryly.

"Correct. I know that you will threaten me now, as you have threatened them." Skrimir looked at the people on the left side of the throne – Micaiah, Naesala and Ulki – and there was more pity in his eyes than contempt. "Rather than opposing evil, they submitted to it, because they were unwilling to pay the price, because they thought that preserving lives is more important than making a stand."

So the roaring savage turns out to be an idealist. Who would have thought it?

"Ike made a stand," Elincia pointed out in an attempt to make Skrimir reconsider his stance, "and look what good it did to him."

"I do not fear death," the Lion King said contemptuously. "And while I do fear the madness that destroyed Ike, I do not fear it enough to submit to you." He folded his arms across his chest and gave Elincia a defiant stare. "Even in the face of certain doom, evil must be opposed."

"But you will doom your people along with you," Elincia said coldly. "And their deaths will be utterly pointless."

"You didn't listen to me at all, did you? Or if you listened, you clearly didn't understand anything" Skrimir shook his head and laughed. "Beorc language is useless, after all."

"I listened to you very carefully," Elincia said, "and perhaps longer than I should have."

"Then why don't you see that our deaths won't be pointless?" Skrimir asked. "Don't you understand? I acknowledge that you have the power and the will to kill me and every one of our soldiers within your borders. You may even send out your slave armies to burn down the forests of Gallia and hunt the last of the beast tribe until the ends of the earth. But just like Ranulf's tale about the Feral Ones taught me, the story of Queen Elincia and the destruction of Gallia will teach people for generations to come about the nature of evil, and that they must oppose it no matter the cost."

Elincia wanted to say something – anything – to prevent the horrible scenario Skrimir had painted from coming true, but the sheer determination in his words made her realize that it would be a futile effort. This new King of Gallia was much deeper than he had first appeared, and Elincia feared that she was out of her league. No worldy threat she could come up with would deter him from his course, and it seemed that she would have to kill him and give the throne of Gallia to somebody with less extreme views.

I'm sorry, Mordecai, she thought. I promised that I wouldn't hurt any of the envoys, but I would rather lose your respect than be forced to burn down all of Gallia.

"Your Majesty." Giffca broke his long silence before Elincia could give Bertram the order to kill Skrimir. "No, my king. What you said just now was truly inspiring, and it made me feel ashamed for hitting you. I am certain that with the strength of your convictions and the clarity of your purpose, you will become an even greater king than your uncle was. And if it was just the two of us, I would gladly follow you into the jaws of death." Without warning, Giffca dropped to one knee. "But it is precisely because you are the king that I must beg you to reconsider. No matter how strongly you believe in your cause, you cannot throw away the lives of all your people. I implore you to sign this document."

"I forgive you for raising you hand against me," Skrimir told Giffca, his back to the throne, and once again, Elincia would have liked to see the expression on his face. "But with regards to the blood pact, my mind is made up. I will die rather than submitting to evil, and I will make that decision for every man, woman and child in Gallia."

"Good gracious," Naesala whispered to himself. "Idealists will be the death of us all."

"No, King Skrimir," Giffca said as he rose again, "you must not do this. Of all the things in the world, sacrificing the people of Gallia for your ideals is the one thing you mustn't do. Not because I say so – I am not that presumptuous – but because you swore to your uncle in his dying moments that you would always do what is best for Gallia."

"Yes... I remember that oath," Skrimir said in a strangely melancholic tone. "But for the sake of opposing evil, I will break it."

"I see," Giffca said hoarsely and made a step back. "If that is your decision, then I must accept it." He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "I also swore an oath that day," he continued. "I swore that I would protect you as I protected King Caineghis." He raised his fists before his chest in a gesture that was very familiar to Elincia – to anyone who had spent some time with the laguz. "I, too, will break my oath now," Giffca said and transformed.

"You...!" Skrimir jumped backwards to dodge Giffca's attack and assumed laguz form in mid-leap. Before the eyes of Elincia and her retainers, the black and the red lion tore into each other with the famed savagery of the children of strength. Her guards looked to her for guidance, and she signalled not to intervene unless her own safety was threatened.

And there I thought I'd seen it all, Elincia reflected, morbidly fascinated by the sight of the two massive laguz fighting to the death. Their roars were loud enough to make her ears ring, and whenever one of them landed on the floor after leaping into the air, the entire throne room seemed to tremble.

When it was all over, Elincia estimated that the fight could not have lasted longer than two minutes. Giffca transformed back into human form, having snapped Skrimir's neck between his powerful jaws, and caught his breath even as he knelt down next to the king he had just killed. He was bleeding from several wounds, but none of them fatal, and refused Elincia's offer to have a healer treat them. "I deserve much worse than these wounds for my betrayal," he said, his voice fraught with shame and regret. "But this was the only thing I could do... and I believe his uncle would have wanted me to do it." A single tear ran down Giffca's cheek as he rose to his feet. "Now Gallia will have a future again."

"So you will sign the blood pact," Elincia said. She felt horrible for getting right back to business in the face of Giffca's despair, but she was afraid that he might change his mind later.

"I would, but I cannot," Giffca replied. "No matter his strength, a former shadow can never become king. That is ancient Gallian law." He laughed bitterly. "No doubt drawn up to prevent assassinations. Our tribe would never accept a regicide as their king."

"I understand that," Elincia said. "Then who do you think will succeed Skrimir? Another member of Caineghis' family?"

"There is no one else," Giffca replied. "The lion tribe has been dwindling in numbers for some time now." He hesitated before glancing at Mordecai, who had witnessed the murder of his king without a word, but whose sorrowful expression could not be misread. "But perhaps the lions have ruled over the beast tribe long enough."

"You don't mean..." Elincia, too, looked at Mordecai, who only now became aware that he had become the subject of a conversation. "Him?"

"He is almost as strong as myself, his good nature is beyond doubting, and his mind is sharper than his speech suggests," Giffca said. "He is the perfect candidate."

"Mordecai, did you hear that?" Elincia asked the tiger laguz. "Do... do you think you could...?"

"I heard everything," Mordecai replied, devoid of any unseemly excitement at his sudden career prospects. "But I am not so sure. I left Gallia behind to help Elincia..."

"Yet you didn't once raise your hand against another member of our tribe," Giffca retorted, "which is more than can be said about me." He sighed deeply and wiped a tear from his face. "Your decades of service to King Caineghis cannot be dismissed easily. And in the light of recent... power shifts in Tellius, your decision to aid Queen Elincia might be seen in a more favorable light."

"The last weeks were full of bloodshed and death," Mordecai said sorrowfully. "I am a warrior, but I do not enjoy war. I want a peace that lasts for many, many years." He glanced at Elincia, and his gaze was not without reproach. "Ike was my friend," he said. "He did not die a good death."

"But you knew that already, and you still agreed to stay here," Elincia said almost triumphantly. "If you want peace, then my way is the only way, even if it is cruel. You fought enough during your life to understand that, don't you?"

"I am not sure," Mordecai said. "About many things. But if Master Giffca and Queen Elincia both think the same..." He looked at the sheets of paper on Silok's desk. "I will become king," he said. "I will sign this blood pact, so that Gallia can have peace."

"Then my betrayal will not have been in vain," Giffca said, bent down before Skrimir's body and somehow managed to heave the former king's corpse and put it on his shoulders. "I must present proof of my sin to the elders of Gallia," he said wearily. "I will also tell them about their new king. In the face of political realities, they will have no choice but to accept him." He turned around and walked toward the door, carrying the corpse of his master on his shoulders. "In the unlikely event that they spare my life, I will spend the rest of my days in the deep forests, trying to atone for my sin. Farewell."

With slow, seemingly painful steps, Giffca made his way out of the throne room, and as Elincia watched him leave she felt both gratitude and pity for him. He seemed resolved to carry Skrimir's body all the way to Gallia, and the weight of his guilt would weigh even heavier on him than that of the corpse on his back.

I can't take his guilt away from him, Elincia thought sourly. I already bear enough of my own.

With a callousness born from the losses the had suffered, as well as the ones she had inflicted on others, Elincia quickly returned to her agenda. She asked Mordecai to sign the blood pact, and the new King of Gallia obeyed before returning to his spot next to Kieran. Another guard was sent to the fields outside Melior, conveying the queen's orders that the trapped soldiers of Gallia, too, were allowed to return home.

"That takes care of the laguz nations," Elincia said to Silok as her young secretary placed the two signed blood pacts inside the document tube. She had taken two large steps on her way to a lasting peace, and though she had just been sitting on her throne the whole time, she was already fighting mental exhaustion. "Except for Goldoa, obviously."

"What about the wolf tribe from beyond the Daein desert?" Silok asked. "You said that their queen had joined the laguz alliance."

"On our way to the city, Geoffrey told me that she was among the few who managed to escape before our encircling action was complete," Elincia replied. If I had known what would happen once we reached Melior, I would have talked about other things with him, she thought wearily. More important things. "She fled in wolf form, carrying a male heron on her back – that must have been Prince Reyson's brother."

"Is that all?" Silok asked. "Wasn't she pursued?"

"Geoffrey sent a few cavaliers after her, but she was faster than them. And besides, she's a laguz royal. Capturing her alive would probably have been very difficult." In truth, Elincia was not too worried about the wolf queen and her far-away nation and had no problem with her escape. If she knew what was best for her, she would hide in her undiscovered country and stay out of Elincia's way.

"Besides, we only had three sheets of enchanted paper," she said, "and I would rather use the last one on the Empire than waste it on a nation that nobody even knew existed until a few months ago."

"I already prepared the final treaty," Silok said eagerly and pointed at the last document lying on his desk, "with the same terms as the other ones."

"Which leaves us with the difficulty of procuring the signature," Elincia sighed. "The blood pacts are only binding if they are signed by a nation's sitting ruler. Which in case of Begnion used to be the apostle, but she's dead. We will have to find out what's going on in Sienne and tell whoever is currently on top of the power struggle that we'll execute every soldier in the Central Army if they don't sign the pact. And if that threat isn't enough, we'll have to invade the Empire with the combined force of our five nations and make them sign it."

"That will not be necessary."

Elincia gasped in shock when a white-robed, black-haired man suddenly appeared in the throne room, standing perfectly still just behind the thick white line.

Warp powder! But how did he know...?

"Greetings, Queen Elincia," Prime Minister Sephiran said, his demeanor as calm and friendly as if he had been invited, rather than appearing in the room without warning. "It's been three years, hasn't it?"

"Why do you show yourself now, of all times?" Elincia asked, quickly regaining her composure. Her allies in the throne room were even more surprised at Sephiran's sudden entrance, since most of them did not know about the warp powder, but they could wait until later for an explanation and were quickly silenced. "You must have been watching us somehow!" she accused Sephiran. It was the only way he could have appeared perfectly on cue as he had done, and the Prime Minister did not deny it.

"The paper you used to create your blood pacts was enchanted by Imperial magic researchers," Sephiran said. "Tracking their whereabouts and using them as spying devices did not pose much of a challenge to them." His smile was almost apologetic. "I heard everything you said from the moment the documents were removed from this tube, and I thought that now was a good time for me to warp in."

"The powder doesn't weaken you?" Elincia asked suspiciously, remembering very well how its aftereffects had made her faint only a few hours ago. Sephiran was thin and not physically strong – why was he so much better off than her?

"Practice makes perfect," Sephiran smiled. "It hasn't affected me in a long time."

"So you've used it before..." Elincia thought of General Zelgius' mysterious disappearance from his cell. Had that been Sephiran's doing? Had he instructed Zelgius to frame her for Caineghis' murder? She could not ask him that directly and expect an answer, of course, so she phrased her question in more general terms.

"Tell me, Sephiran: Are you here as friend or as enemy?"

"I am here in the interest of peace," the Imperial Prime Minister said, his voice dripping with sincerity. But Elincia knew that he was a masterful politician, and that lying without flinching surely came natural to him. "I've heard a different story," she said casually. "That general... Levail was his name... he told me that you sent the Central Army to fight me."

Sephiran hesitated for only a split second, then smiled and shook his head. "I've never met the man before. He must have wanted revenge for what happened at Flaguerre."

"What happend at Flaguerre." – A very diplomatic way to put it, not even mentioning that I was responsible. Just as I would have expected of Sephiran.

"I thought so," Elincia said with more conviction than was probably warranted. "You're not a warmonger, after all." Sephiran's face was unreadable, and she had no idea whether she could believe him, but that would not matter if she got what she wanted from him. "Tell me about the state of affairs in Sienne," she said. "I have been told that you were fighting a revolt against the Senate. Was that also a lie?"

"Oh no, I was struggling quite vigorously," Sephiran replied with just the right amount of pride. "Thanks to the Holy Knights and parts of the city garrison, I was eventually able to make the Senate submit and restore the apostle to her position of authority."

"You mean Apostle Sanaki is all right?" Elincia raised an eyebrow at this revelation. "One of my... sources told me that she is dead." And that a fake apostle had already been chosen to replace her.

"I have no idea where your source got that idea," Sephiran said. "There is an apostle sitting on the throne in Sienne, and her name is Sanaki. That is the truth." His strange, evasive wording only confirmed that the Sanaki in question was not the one Elincia had met three years ago. She had to be the girl mentioned in Volke's report, but Elincia could understand why Sephiran could not admit her true identity in front of her guards and retainers. And besides, if the real Sanaki was dead, then her replacement was, for all intents and purposes, the Empress of the Begnion Empire.

"Then I hereby formally invite the apostle to visit Melior and sign this blood pact as the current sovereign of the Empire," Elincia said. "I understand that neither she nor you were responsible for the Senate's war against Crimea... but it still happened under your watch. By failing to prevent it, you became complicit. As a seasoned politician, I'm sure you understand my reasoning." And if you don't... without the Central Army, the Empire will be unable to defend against a full-scale invasion. But I doubt you'll let it come this far...

"I understand perfectly," Sephiran said. "The apostle will sign the treaty as soon as possible."

"You have my gratitude," Elincia said, even though Sephiran's unprotesting willingness to sign away parts of Begnion's sovereignty seemed more than a little bit strange to her. "I will make preparations for her visit, then."

"That won't be necessary." Sephiran turned toward Silok's desk and smiled. Elincia's secretary returned the smile politely, but the Prime Minister was not looking at him, but at the as-of-yet unsigned blood pact lying before him. "Your holiness," he said, "please hold the staff that I gave you in both hands and imagine yourself right next to me, inside the room that you're seeing in the chalice." It took Elincia a few second to realize who he was talking to. "You mean the apostle's been listening, too?" she asked.

"Quite right," Sephiran said without looking at her and spoke again to his unseen mistress. "Don't worry if it doesn't work at first, just try it again. It may also help if you close your eyes."

But in spite of Sephiran's encouragements, the apostle failed to appear, and after a minute had come and gone, he excused himself, withdrew a small crystal bottle filled with warp powder, and vanished from the throne room. Once again, Elincia wondered why he was so suspiciously forthcoming – his reputation was that of a good, but also strong-willed man who served the people of the Empire with utmost devotion. Of course he had little choice in the matter, seeing as he had heard Elincia's threat to invade Begnion, but even so, he should at least have protested, and tried to appeal to her conscience or something of the sort.

Perhaps he's just a good enough judge of character to know that pleading with me won't work, and he wants to save himself the effort. But he stands to lose nothing by merely asking, so... does he actually want this treaty to be signed?

Elincia's contemplations were cut short when Sephiran returned on the same spot as earlier, looking no worse the wear for having used warp powder three times in the span of five minutes. Using it twice would knock out most people, and thrice might even kill them, she thought, and wondered just how often Sephiran was using the powder. Or was he using an improved type of powder that came without side effects? It was impossible to tell.

"I am afraid that the apostle is easily frightened," Sephiran said apologetically, "and the presence of so many unfamiliar soldiers intimidates her. Watching the fight between the two Gallians just now didn't help with that, either." His words served as yet another confirmation to Elincia that the apostle in question was not the real Sanaki, because she had been the very opposite of 'easily frightened'.

"I realize that this is a bold request," Sephiran said, "but could you send all these people outside? Otherwise, I'm afraid I won't be able to convince the apostle to join us."

"Preposterous!" Kieran exclaimed. "Her majesty already suffered one fiendish attempt on her life today, and she will not permit another–"

"Thank you, Kieran, but I can speak for myself," Elincia rebuked the temporary commander of the Royal Knights – she was still debating whether she should make his appointment permanent or replace him with Bertram. Not only did she not wish to be reminded of Geoffrey's death, there had also been no need for Sephiran to know about the assassination attempt. Holding back information was one of the first rules of successful negotiations – but then again, she could not expect the boisterous Kieran to be aware of that.

"That assassin was mad with grief and had nothing to lose," Elincia explained to Sephiran. "Surely, she had absolutely nothing in common with you, Prime Minister." In response, Sephiran only smiled mysteriously.

"Very well," Elincia said loudly. "Since I want the treaty signed today, I will grant the apostle's request. Everybody, please wait in the antechamber. Silok, Bertram, you will receive further orders before you leave."

Quickly and without further objections, Kieran, Micaiah, the three laguz kings and the queen's personal guard left the throne room; some of them with apprehension, other with relief. The only one who said anything was Naesala, who stopped next to Sephiran on his way outside.

"All the gold of Kilvas is yours if you choke her while you're alone," he said, making no effort to keep his voice low. "How about it?" But the Prime Minister summarily ignored the Raven King, who shrugged and left the throne room behind Micaiah. And although his offer had been deadly serious, Elincia had no reason to fear for her safety, and not only because Sephiran was supposedly incorruptible.

"Silok," she addressed her secretary, "I entrust you with the safety, and, if necessary, the activation of the blood pacts. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the young man replied and picked up the document tube containing the pacts with Phoenicis and Gallia. "I will not hesitate to do what you would do in a crisis." It was a bold announcement, considering its potentially murderous implications, but Elincia trusted Silok not to make a promise he could not keep – he was literally incapable of empty boasting. "I'll leave the treaty intended for Begnion here, so the apostle can sign it," he said and left the room while Elincia turned to face Bertram.

"If I don't emerge alive from this room after one hour, I want you to take command of our combined forces and wipe the Empire off the face of the continent." Of course Sephiran heard her words, but he did not betray the slightest sign of anxiety. "Yesss, mistress," Bertram said, and with a threatening glare at Sephiran, he was gone, leaving him alone with Elincia.

"You seem to think that your threats protect you better than any soldier ever could," Sephiran said once the door had been shut behind him, his tone conversational.

"In this dawning age of warp powder, an assassin can enter any building in the world without warning. The effectivity of armed sentinels has already been greatly reduced," Elincia replied. Unless the man before her was not at all who he appeared to be, she was perfectly safe in his presence, for he would not risk the annihilation of his country even if he was secretly hostile toward her.

"That is true," Sephiran replied. "As a matter of fact, a mysterious incident involving warp powder took place in Sienne recently, involving the late Vice-Minister Lekain."

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Elincia said without blinking.

"Of course you wouldn't." Sephiran nodded almost imperceptibly. "But let me tell you anyway that whoever removed the blight named Lekain from this world has my personal gratitude."

Because Lekain killed his Sanaki, Elincia thought. Could that be the reason for the Prime Minister's readiness to collaborate with her? Gratitude for punishing the murderer of his empress? It was the best explanation she could come up with so far, but it still did not sit quite right with her.

"My Empress," Sephiran said in the direction of the enchanted sheet of paper, which somehow served as the apostle's window on the the throne room, "would you honor us with your presence now?" This time, his request was answered, and amidst a circular pattern of light, a girl appeared right next to Sephiran. Perhaps twelve years of age, she had black hair and wore stately red robes, and held a large staff in her hand which Elincia recognized as the same one Lekain had used. It doesn't seem to have any of the side effects of the powder, she thought. A pity Volke didn't steal it, too.

"Well done, Sanaki... I mean, apostle," Sephiran said with a bright smile. The girl, who was still confused by her instant journey halfway across the continent, seized his hand and tried to hide behind him. "Now, now, it's impolite to hide from one's host," he said and gently prodded her back into Elincia's view.

"She told the man in black that he should destroy the Empire," the girl said, and her voice was the most telling difference from the real Sanaki, for it was hushed and insecure. "I don't like her."

"We will not give her any reasons to go through with her threat," Sephiran said gently. "And maybe you will come to like her... at a later time."

"Hello, Empress Sanaki," Elincia said. "I know your new role must be difficult for you" – there was no need to keep up pretensions while they were alone – "but please bear with me for a short time. I promise you that I won't do anything to scare you." I already had one young girl executed today, she thought sourly. That should fulfill the quota for the evil queen.

"This is Queen Elincia of Crimea," Sephiran said in a gentle tone when the apostle looked up to him for guidance. "Say hello."

"Hello." It was not the most heartfelt greeting, but if sufficed. Elincia nodded at Sephiran, signalling him that he should do most of the talking, since the apostle was clearly more comfortable around him. He nodded back and led his charge to Silok's abandoned desk, and pointed at the blood pact which patiently awaited its signature.

"The queen is asking you to sign this treaty," Sephiran explained. "You learned how you write your name, didn't you?"

"Yes," the apostle said proudly. "I can do that."

He's surprisingly friendly to her, Elincia thought as she watched the two, even though she's not the real Sanaki, and though he must be reminded of the original every time he looks at her.

"Good," Sephiran said. "But I'm afraid you can't use ink." He produced a needle and a thimble from his pocket, and his expression became one of regret. "We must draw some of your blood," he said and raise the needle before Sanaki's face. "I promise it will hurt only a little."

"I won't cry," the apostle said solemnly, which made Elincia smirk. Of course not. It's only a little prick! But then she realized that she had no idea under what sort of circumstances this girl had grown up to become so meek, and that she was in no position to judge her.

Just as she had promised, Sanaki did not make a sound when Sephiran pricked her finger, and when enough blood had dripped into the thimble, she proceeded to sign the pact without objections. She probably had only a faint grasp of what she was doing, but with her signature, she laid the final stone in the foundation of what might one day be called Elincia's peace.

"You have my thanks, Empress Sanaki," Elincia said and extended her hand toward the girl. Unsure, the apostle looked at Sephiran, who nodded in encouragement, and finally grasped Elincia's hand, smearing a tiny bit of blood on her palm. "This is all I needed from you," she said. "You may leave now." Her own words sounded cold and exploitative even to herself.

"Thank you," Sanaki said and picked up the rewarp staff from the floor. "Are we going home?" she asked Sephiran.

"If you don't mind going ahead, I would stay a couple of minutes longer," he replied. "You know how to get back, right?"

"Yes," Sanaki replied, and for the first time since Elincia had laid eyes on her, she smiled. "This is a fun toy," she said, closed her eyes, and disappeared.

"A fun toy indeed," Elincia said. "You'll have to make me one of those."

"It's one of a kind, but I'll see what I can do," Sephiran replied. "I'm afraid I can't let you have the prototype, because that would displease the apostle."

Why do I get the feeling that she'll grow up to be as wilfull as her predecessor? Elincia asked herself and suppressed a grin. "Getting used to her new role will be hard for her," she said instead. "And being known as the apostle who surrendered the Empire to a foreign nation can't help any. Will she be all right?"

"As long as she commands the support of Prime Minister Sephiran, she will be." Sephiran sighed and shook his head. "The poor girl was thrust into this position without her consent... and even though she is not my Sanaki, I shall stand by her side as if she were her. This I have vowed."

"She is truly blessed to have a friend and servant like you," Elincia said. "That you would accept her so unconditionally after suffering the loss of the real Sanaki..."

"I did not always accept her," Sephiran whispered.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Elincia asked, and the Prime Minister only now seemed to realize that he had spoken out loud. But rather than pretending that he had not said anything, he decided to explain his remark.

"When I first met this false Sanaki, I did not see a future for her... nor the rest of the world," Sephiran said, his tone poignant to the point of melancholy. "Do you know what changed my mind?" Elincia shook her head, for she could not claim to know what was going on in Sephiran's head. "Observing you through the enchanted paper," he said to her surprise.

"I'm not sure I understand," Elincia said. "Did I do something remarkable?" Don't tell me he's smitten with me...

"Before watching you today, I believed the reports that you had gone insane," Sephiran explained, "and dismissed you as one of the many power-mad rulers this continent has seen throughout the centuries. But when I watched you forge a new order that would unite all the nations of Tellius under your banner, I understood that I had been wrong about you. I understood your grand design for the future." There seemed to be hints of admiration in his voice, but Elincia thought she also heard something else. Something like relief.

"You're the first to have such a positive outlook on my tyranny," she said dryly.

"Do not sell yourself so cheaply, Queen Elincia." Sephiran gazed at her intently, a look of deep-seated sadness in his clear blue eyes. "I had given up all hope. I was ready to abandon this world and all who dwell upon it, and hasten along their overdue destruction." The sadness in his eyes diminished, and a glint of hope appeared. "But you, young beorc female, have restored my faith that this war-ridden continent may not be beyond salvation."

"Beorc...?" Elincia found herself openly staring at Sephiran, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanor as well as his choice of words. Only a laguz would call a human 'beorc', but the man before her was evidently no laguz... or was he? "Who are you?" she asked, though she had no idea what kind of answer she expected.

"Someone who tried for many centuries to make people seek peace, and gave up on them in the end," Sephiran replied earnestly. "But you have shown me a new way. Perhaps harmony can only be achieved through an iron fist in a velvet glove. Enforcing peace at the threat of death seems contradictory, but it may well prove effective. Certainly more effective than my futile efforts that yielded nothing but disappointment and bitterness." He lowered his head slightly before Elincia; more than a nod, but less than a bow. "I will be watching."

"I must ask you one more time," Elincia said, more than a little confused by Sephiran's mysterious little speech. "Who are you?"

"Perhaps, one day, a friend," was his reply. "Now if you'll excuse me," he added while producing his bottle of warp powder, "I must hurry to the apostle's side." Before Elincia could think of something to say that would stop him, Sephiran sprinkled a small amount of the yellow powder on his palm and vanished from the throne room.

"Now what was that all about?" Elincia asked, half-expecting a disembodied voice to answer her. But no answer came, and since Sephiran had been nothing if not cooperative, she decided that she could postpone solving the riddle of his identity until a later time. She walked to the desk next to her throne, picked up the final blood pact and carefully curled it up. Then she sat down on her throne, the parchment roll in hand, and enjoyed a short period of rest until she would call her retainers and allies back into the room.

I once thought of war as an evil ghost, she reminisced. A ghost that feeds on blood and pain and death, growing stronger the harder you try to fight it. The imagery had used to fill her with dread, but not anymore, for she now knew how to fight that ghost. The trick was to deny it its nourishment, to starve it into submission by not permitting any more violence – and with the blood pacts giving her complete control over all the armies of Tellius, Elincia would be able to do just that.

And yet she could not feel the joy and satifscation that she should have felt, for this day that might once be celebrated as the beginning of peace was also the day Geoffrey had left her forever.

It all began with Lucia's death, Elincia reflected, and now it ends with that of her brother. Perhaps there was some deeper meaning to this irony of fate, but if there was, she was unable to appreciate it.

And my work isn't even finished yet, she suddenly realized. There was still someone in this world who was not bound to her will. Someone who might not approve of her sudden hegemony. Someone powerful enough to resist her and perhaps even destroy all that she had accomplished.

"No use sitting here trembling in my boots," Elincia said to herself and rose from her throne. She would pay that certain someone a visit and hopefully come to an arrangement. And if she failed...

"We'll see about that," she whispered, determined not to let anyone or anything threaten the stability of her new order. "We'll see about that."