Mint flavored opposition
Disclaimer: The Black Magicians Trilogy belongs to Trudi Caravan
"Decadent." Said Lord Thuerin. "Put simply, decadent means you have detErated, you are weaker, you are of less value and you are no longer you."
The assembled Guild magicians looked at him. This meeting was a repeat of several others, each where Thuerin made increasingly obvious attempts to stop slum dwellers from joining the Guild.
"You are probably now some guy called Alex, despite the possible femininity of that name. And there's more! This Alex, who you now are, probably has frightfully bad hygiene!" cried Thuerin, ignoring the more puzzled looks he was receiving, or more accurately, misinterpreting them as shocked gasps.
Akkarin half frowned. It appeared Takan had infiltrated the man's kitchen and made him surrender to the herby goodness of choc mint biscuits.
"And yet the High Lord." Thuerin paused, looking at Akkarin. "The High Lord deems that including them will somehow strengthen us, as if quantity is somehow more important than hygiene, not having possibly feminine names and um…oh yes. Quality."
Akkarin full frowned. This man spoke in italics. Clearly this was worse than he thought. This man was obsessed with his cause. He stood and absolute silence fell. "Oh yes? Well your mom!" he said, momentarily forgetting the situation. "I mean…well… look, you have a point. But the problem is, we are understaffed. There aren't enough magicians to serve the allied lands, not one a scale which includes the wealthy and the scum. We need more, and us such we will be pulling back temporarily to increase the amount of teachers available."
"The only other thing we need then is more students. And the slums provide an excellent source of students with equal and at times greater magical potential than the houses. So basically…either we use slum dwellers or the houses breed faster."
"OH YEAH! ORGY!" yelled one magician gleefully, ribbing off his robes.
"Thuerin…I believe that man might have stolen some of your cookies." said Akkarin, regretting that he couldn't rip his robes off too. What use were the sit ups he so vigorously did then?
Thuerin pulled the man back to his seat with a gentle hand. The meeting room was silent. " My lord…your point was logically made. But it begs one question…"
"Which is?" asked Akkarin.
"You bastard!" yelled the orgy obsessed cookie stealer. "He limited the discussion to one question and you stole it! Give it back!"
" Seno…even if he gives it back, it won't be the same question I wanted to ask him. So I suggest he keeps that question."
"But-" began Seno, right before Thuerin creamed him with a big stick, which magicians often hold while posing for book covers.
Thuerin gazed into Akkarin's eyes with such intensity, that he remembered the previous night with Sonea, despite it having no real relevance to the current situation.
THE PREVIOUS NIGHT WITH SONEA
"Sonea…we've been courting for several years now…and I think we're ready to take it to the next level." Said Akkarin, with a seductive and alluring half sneer.
"You mean you'll stop screaming and running away like a tiny girl when I come near?" asked Sonea, perking up.
" NO!...I mean no, I'm just not that loose…maybe I'll stop when we're married. Although I understand Gerrel's face still runs away screaming sometimes…" he looked down at his quill. "Just how many birds have to die just for me to be able to write?" he pondered.
"I think seven my lord." Said Takan, from under the table.
"And another thing, I know he hides really well, but can Takan please just stay away for at least one of our dates?" asked Sonea.
" Actually…Takan has been staying away. It's just my table leg broke so he's currently just sitting there, being a table leg." retorted Akkarin, not letting her grasp the tight reins of their musty relationship.
" It's a lonely life." Said Takan. "But, from the support of my fellow table legs, I think we can keep the table up."
"Why do I still see four table legs?" asked Sonea, quizzically.
"It had five." Said Akkarin.
BACK TO THE COURT ROOM
Yes, love is a fickle mistress. Sure, you might have a steady girl friend who you like quite a bit and then after 6 months of dating the ungrateful bitch starts accusing you of liking other girls just cause you talk to this cute girl who likes anime and magic the gathering and who you mention is quite pretty and then the girlfriend claims "she loves you so much" and "you love her more than me" 60 times EVERY GODDAMN day, and no, you telling her you love her MUST simply mean you're going to leave her for the other girl, and constants accusations and attacks are THE BEST way to ensure your boyfriend stays with you and doesn't go for the other girl. Yeah, I sure am going to love spending time with you more than her if you keep yelling, bitching and abusing me YOU HEAR THAT YOU CRAZY BITCH?!?!?! WELL I'M FREE NOW AND I'M NEVER PUTTING UP WITH YOUR CRAP AGAIN EVER!!!!!!!!
Anyway, Akkarin was glad his relationship with Sonea wasn't like that. He summoned up his great inner hotness, and met Thuerin's stare head on.
"The question is…" said Thuerin. " How will you maintain our fine standards of hygiene if you let people from the filthy slums in? HuH? YOU CAN'T HOSE THEM ALL!Muhahahahahaahahahahaha!"
"So…if we clean or…um…hose the entire area known as the slums…you will accept the slum dweller students?" asked Akkarin, hoping whoever was taking notes would right this with capital letters, with little faces drawn in to indicate emotion.
"Well….of course." said Thuerin. "But…it must be done in six…no….ten days!"
"You're on!" yelled Takan. And for no apparent reason, a flashback of how Regin, Takan and Akkarin became friends formed in the minds of the countlress millions.
HOW AKKARIN/TAKAN/REGIN BECAME FRIENDS
"Why." Said Regin , sitting half passed out in a dirty alley. It wasn't even a question. Questions have answers. Not even the proverbial "fuck knows" shone any light on his… call it a predicament. Call it angst. Call it everything you loved and prided yourself on becoming disgusting and repulsive to you.
He stared into the bottle. "Why. Why the world. Why my world." He drank. "My friggin punishment was symbolic. I was a sheep. A sheep who led other sheep…doesn't seem right….nothing does anymore…"
And he despaired. Despaired for that more people meant more stupidity. Despaired for desires, and the way they were placed above all else. Despaired for his self imposed powerlessness. Despaired, that Akkarin appeared to be pouring fertilizer on his boots.
"Don't worry glum sir." Said Akkarin jovially. "We'll soon stop the slums from becoming a desert, you see if we don't."
"….a desert?" asked Regin.
"Yes. It's a vicious circle I'm afraid. Lots of people living together…so much overgrazing…no one filling the donga's…. I suspect in two days there would STILL be no rain." Said Akkarin, blasting an inconvenient house out of the way and planting a tree.
"But…it rained last week." Said Regin.
"Yes…it almost killed all my cactuses." Said Akkarin. "Poor things can't handle much rain you know. "
"Why do you have cactuses?" asked Regin, hollowly.
"Oh? Me and Takan know it's gonna be a dessert anyhow, so we burned down all those useless crops the locals seem to have and planted cactuses." His eyes glistened. "I still remember their screams of joy."
"So…where's that servant of yours?" asked Regin, standing one leggedly.
"He's trying to build a giant fan." Said Akkarin. "Come, we must give him our aid."
" A gaint fan?" he paused, to think it over. "How will it work? Wind power?"
"No." said Akkarin. "Wind is impractical and…lets face it, ugly. So we harnessed a thousand ducks to the fan." They approached the fan. There was a sizeable crowd of people around it. Takan appeared to be arguing with several guards and some angry people.
" Look." Said Takan. "I know you think this fan was build out of what was your roof, but I have proof that it wasn't!" He pointed at the wood. "See? T-A-K-A-N. My name is clearly carved on it."
"It is my bloody roof!" yelled the man. "You and your friend ripped it off, yelling "Ah ah nyohhh we stole your roof!"
Takan paused. "Yes, but in the deeper, metaphorical way, you are crazy. Officer, arrest this man!"
The guard, who appeared bored now took out a truncheon. "Sorry. Sir, I have to ask you to come with me."
"We are sorry for wasting precious … um guard time." Said Akkarin, walking into the scene. "But we committed these heinous crime to stop the slums from becoming a desert."
"Hey aren't you the guy who burned all our crops and planted cactuses?" asked a random slum woman.
Through all this, Regin sat back and wondered. Was this how good people acted? Was this how anyone who does not think "how now brown cow" is the epitome of wit acted?
"I think…I've finally found a place I can belong." He said, slowly, as though not believing the words.
"Okay fine." Akkarin was saying. "If you let us go, I will take my shirt off."
"Sir, that would constitute an act of public indecency." Said the guard warningly.
"Ha, more like an act of supreme charity, like brandy and truffels to the dying people of this dreaded hollow, am I right?" asked Takan.
"Okay, we're going to go get you two into four of my cells." Said the guard, grabbing both of them.
"Four cells?" asked Akkarin.
"Yes, apparently the punishment can't be cruel but I'll see that it's damn unusual." Said the guard, nodding. "And you, depressed looking boy who probably just had an awesome epiphany, you can come with. You have the look of a chicken rustler."
AT THE GUARD CELLS:
Akkarin , Takan and Regin were led into the guard house by the irate guard, who looked quite fetching in his armor, The streets, were somewhat less filthy than they were before the Inchani invasion, but the most notable difference was the state of the slum houses and the occasional medical outpost. A lot more work was looming though. And hoses would be needed. Lots of them.
"In here." said the man, not ungently shoving them into a room which contained a cowled man.
"So…you think you have the right to steal innocent people's roofs do you?" asked the cowled guard threateningly. "It's people like you who caused roof do be the exception to the plural rule for words that end with f, and as a result, millions of innocent non-English people keep writing it as "rooves". They were just learning the rules of English grammar your scum! But no! You have to come and mess it up for everyone!"
"Um…who caused Chiefs and cliffs then?" asked Akkarin.
"My lord…it appears you have started a trend! Oh great, more work!" said the cowled man angrily. "Why did you do it? Was it for the money? The power? The women?"
"The women definitely." said Takan. "And for revenge."
The guard walked back in, slamming the door behind him. "Sir!" he saluted. "I brought the…soup spoon you ordered."
The temperature in the room dropped noticeably.
"I also brought… a common house hold cat."
The temperature dropped, if possible, even further.
"Further more…I purchased…new gloves."
The temperature disobeyed the laws of physics, and allowed cold to become an actual force instead of merely the absence of warmth and made the room, even colder and less physically possible.
The scene was literally, frozen.
"Good…" said Akkarin, breathing heavily. That bit of magic took more out of him than he expected. "We must plan our escape…"
"We can't master…you forgot to freeze the cat." said Takan.
"I don't think the cat counts as a witness…" suggested Regin sullenly.
"He's right Takan." said Akkarin. "It's basically our word against his."
"Yeah, but maybe he's an informant." whispered Takan back. "Aren't their testimonies automatically considered true?"
"Um…we're talking about the cat right?" asked Regin, fearing that they have intellectually sped past him.
"Good point Regin!" said Takan. "As Regin pointed out, you said "his" word. How do we know the cat is a he?"
"I just guessed!" said Akkarin. "He appeared manish!"
"She could just have big bones!" countered Takan.
"The gender of the cat which can't speak is irrelevant-" began Regin, when he was tragically cut off by the emotionally raised voice of Akkarin.
"Look! If it's a she why isn't she drinking tea? Huh? Huh?" asked Akkarin.
"I make tea for you sometimes!" yelled Takan,
"I enjoy variation! It's a stinking cat! It doesn't know the meaning of variation! It probably enjoys the milkyness more than the actual leaves!" screeched Akkarin.
"Oh…you're bringing odors into this?" demanded Takan. "I clean your-
There was the rather odd sound of a massive icicle falling and hitting the ground. It splintered, causing some of the shards to fall near the cat. There was an extremely high pitched mewing sound.
Akkarin checked where the icicle hit. "Well…if it wasn't a girl it is now." He said blearily.
"Yes…but escape is futile." said Takan. "For all we know they locked the door or something."
"Yes, yes." agreed Akkarin. "Our only option is to prove our innocence."
"Plausible." agreed Regin. "So far we've only been accused of tampering with grammar."
Takan and Akkarin shared grins. "So all we have to do is pretend to be avid grammar lovers…and then they won't suspect anything…" mused Akkarin.
"And we all knows what really loves grammar!" chirped Takan happily.
"Librarians? Teachers? Facists? Ninja's?" asked Regin, who was perhaps immersing himself too deeply into the thing.
"No! Armadillos!" said Akkarin and Takan together.
There are several experiences three people can't share without winding up liking each other. Pretending to be grammar loving armadillos to get out of jail was one of them.