Chapter 23: A Guide of Sorts

He had hoped being indoors - even if it was the Rostra - would have helped but no. The exhaustion that had been nipping at his heels since he'd returned from Thavnair now dragged at him, making his temper a lot shorter than it needed to be. It wasn't like Thavnair had been terribly draining - certainly not physically - and it wasn't like they had done anything more arduous than mild spelunking since he had returned to Sharlayan so he wasn't fairly certain where the exhaustion was coming from. Maybe it was going from the heat of Thavnair to the chill of Sharlayan to getting soaked in the Labyrinthos in its artificial rain messing with him. Or maybe he just needed a good nap. A nap sounded nice.

And water, of which he was out of and had been for a while now. There was a raw feeling in his throat, just where nose and throat met in the back, that had yet to go away and it was not helping his mood. He rubbed high on his throat as if that would soothe the pain inside.

He was not looking forward to standing there while the Forum dragged out the proceedings. The thought alone seemed all too gleeful to tempt a headache. It certainly did nothing for the prospect of being on his feet for an unknown length of time.

"You have tarnished the good name of the Students. Galuf would be ashamed."

Some random Councilor close enough to be both heard and spotted apparently saw fit to speak out in the uproar after Fourchenault's words, accusing Krile specifically if the words were anything to go by. The sag in Krile's posture meant the words had hit, though how effective they would be were left to Krile to decide. Still, though, he reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. She smiled up at him before turning to the Councilor, stating plainly, "Galuf Baldesion was never one to forsake his fellow man. Even if this nation closed every door and retreated from the world, he would have found a way to help the Scions─help every soul of this star─fight back against the coming doom."

Y'shtola took the floor after Krile's statement and Echo'a took the chance to lean close to Alisaie, though his movement drew Alphinaud and Krile's attention as well. Blessedly, Y'shtola didn't break her words and G'raha was giving her his full attention. "I'm going to sit down now."

"What?" Alisaie asked; Alphinaud spoke nearly at the same time, "Is everything alright?"

"You can't sit down," Krile said, sounding almost panicked in her urging. "Where would you sit?"

"I'm fine; just tired of being on my feet," he responded to the twins before focusing on Krile. "And the floor works well enough. Besides: if they pay more attention to me than you five," a smirk pulled across his face, one that was sharper than he normally would have let it be, "then let them."

As G'raha took the floor, sharing his own findings from the restricted section, Echo'a sat down. He crossed his legs and tucked a hand under the forward shin, using it to keep his back straight. He gained a raised eyebrow - and possibly the start of a smirk - from Y'shtola. He wondered what look G'raha would send him once he noticed.

"...Rather, society was to be gradually reshaped to ensure the preservation of knowledge. The most conspicuous and telling change was-"

"Can we please have Mister Velundaleht standing instead of lounging on the floor like a child," one of the Councilors finally bit out, cutting G'raha off.

He blinked a few times as he opened his eyes, readapting to the lighting as his brain took a second to process what had just happened. It had been a while since anyone had called him by his surname - let alone with such derision - that he had almost mistaken it for someone else's name.

He looked to the left to where the voice had come from and found it surprisingly easy to pick out the outspoken Councilor; it did help that a number of the man's peers were looking right at the Councilor in varying degrees of shock and displeasure. He met the Councilor's gaze evenly and said, "I will remain seated if it's all the same, thank you."

The Councilor slammed a palm to the tabletop, nearly rising from his chair in his outrage. "You will stand with the rest of your accomplices and show some respect to the Forum!"

The calm compassion bled from his expression and he did nothing to correct the flat contempt that replaced it. "Respect goes both ways and I have yet to see anything in Sharlayan worthy of my respect that doesn't already have it." The Councilor sputtered to reply but he kept talking, drowning the man out. "The only reason I am on your lands still is currently standing before you. The people you should be concerned about respecting the Forum are standing before you. They are here dealing with your bureaucracy because they still have hope that Sharlayan - their home, in a variety of capacities - will see right to help the world not burn at the hands of fanatics." Silence met his words. That was fine by him. "It is their hope that answers - your oh so coveted knowledge - can be found here to help protect if not save the world - which includes Sharlayan, if you have forgotten - or at the very least an explanation as to why the refusal for aid from the Forum had been so unanimous." He returned his gaze forward and had to set his gaze beyond those standing around him. If he paid them any mind in that moment, the last of his words would fail. Gods, if his throat hadn't already been killing him, it would now. "I am an outsider; something that many of you turn your nose up at upon the mere mention of, as if that fact alone taints my very existence. I couldn't care less of your opinion of me and am quite ready to wash my hands of your nation simply to spite you, even as my soul weeps for those innocent and ignorant of your actions that would suffer from such a choice." His gaze slid back to the Councilor. "Unfortunately, I know all too well the futility of offering aid to those that don't want it and I am quite done trying; but they are not. Men and women raised and nurtured by Sharlayan stand before you seeking answers as they had been told they should. And I refuse to abandon them in their endeavors, no matter the lost cause I may think it is. So yes, I will stay seated, because I should not be the focus of your attention. I refuse to block them from view when it is their voices that need to be heard, not mine."

Some mutterings scattered the room but none spoke out. G'raha cleared his throat and started speaking again and Echo'a let his eyes slide close as he listened.

A new voice cut through the growing turmoil of some point - he was starting to lose track of the conversation - and he found himself seeking out the voice, not sure if it was to help or hinder them.

Alisaie leaned over and muttered in his ear, "Scholarch Montichaigne. He's the head of the Studium, and an old friend of our grandfather's."

So to help, then. And helped it did. Shortly thereafter, a verdict was finally put forth and voted on, though he couldn't tell if it was actually a good thing. He'd have to ask once they were all done with this.

"I count fifty-two for, and forty-seven against. The proposal is passed," the Speaker announced, though how he managed to count was beyond him. There had to be a better way to vote. "Students, Scions, you have heard the Forum's judgment. Pray abide by it or face the consequences."

And with that, they were dismissed.

"That was quite the speech you gave," Y'shtola spoke once they were outside.

He squinted against the glare of the sun, shielding his eyes to meet her gaze. He shrugged. "It seemed to work in the end. Damned fool voted in our favor."

"Still, that was quite the risk to take," G'raha said, the gleam in his eyes countering the concern that was heaviest in his voice. Or maybe he was mistaking the awe for concern. Did he care? "Though I would say your voice matters just as much as ours here."

He shrugged. "Not to them it doesn't, and that's ok. As long as you all are listened to in my stead. It's not like you won't say what I want to say anyway."

Krile asked, tentative and oddly nervous, "Would you really abandon Sharlayan just to spite the Forum?"