I had not seen this level of absolute destruction since Sarlazai. Tisaanah and I set to work immediately, trying to dig survivors from the rubble of
the fallen Towers. A few Wielders had been able to summon their own spheres of protection in the seconds before the collapse, like Tisaanah had for us.
Most were not so lucky.
Many of the surrounding houses simply ceased to exist, now reduced to scorch marks on the cobblestones that outlined the former footprint of someone’s home. Tisaanah took charge immediately, putting spectators to work with a firm, steady leadership and comforting words, a balance that she managed to strike as if it was second nature. I, meanwhile, rallied the military to help with search and rescue.
Sammerin was one of the first to run to the Towers. When he saw us, he just collapsed onto the block of broken brick, his head sagging, like his relief had left him deflated.
“Staying in the city was an excellent call.” The joke fell flat. My voice was wan and strained.
He nodded, speechless, and we stood there together for a few stolen seconds before he rose, picked up his healer’s bag, and got to work. He and Willa set up a makeshift hospital in the wreckage. So, so many people needed help.
Iya arrived shortly after the explosion, summoned by the commotion. His decision to relinquish his apartment to us, it turned out, had saved his life. When he saw what had become of the Towers, he covered his mouth and was still as a statue for a long, long time. “How?” he said.
Tisaanah and I explained what we saw. It still seemed strange to recount it. That face, like the living dead. That note.
How could Nura have done this? I was no longer under any illusions about the goodness of her heart, but I had truly believed that in her own, strange way, she loved Ara.
Now, I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore. I didn’t see how this could possibly be love, even to a mind as twisted as hers.
Iya’s Valtain-pale face still managed to grow even more wan. “Then we have very little time. The other members of the Council…” He cleared his throat. “The surviving members of the Council should reach the Capital by nightfall.”
The thought paralyzed me. I didn’t even know if I wanted to go ahead with this now. It seemed ridiculous to think about something as arbitrary as a title under these circumstances.
I said as much to Tisaanah after Iya left.
“It is more important than ever now,” she replied. “Your people have never been more in need of someone to believe in.”
“The mere idea of that someone being me makes me a little ill.”
“It may seem unkind to say this, Max, but the way it makes you feel is perhaps the least important thing right now.”
A petulant part of me wanted to argue with her. But she gave me a deadpan stare that cut off my unspoken retort with, I escaped slavery, killed my master, forced a foreign country to take me seriously, traded away my autonomy, led a revolution, overthrew an empire, and then followed you back to your stupid broken country to support you only for you to whine about how you don’t “feel” like you can do this?
So I swallowed my protests and instead said, “Don’t give me that look.” “What look?”
“That look.”
The corner of her mouth quirked. “Do you want to know a secret?” “What?”
“I wish the world held itself to the standards that you do.”
 |
THE COUNCIL HAD WEAKENED over the years. It was now just a handful of aging Wielders. They called me into the Palace in the obvious absence of the Towers. I hadn’t been here since it had been inhabited by Zeryth—since, in fact, we killed him there. It seemed odd to conduct yet another assassination here.
This half of the city hadn’t been damaged by the explosion at the Towers, but it was still chaotic. The streets swarmed with displaced people escaping the wreckage, hastily raised healing stations, soldiers milling about certain that something important needed doing but unsure exactly what it was. The interior of the Palace was, by contrast, eerily quiet.
We gathered in the throne room, just beyond the balcony that looked out over the city. When I looked at the five robed figures before me, each donning their crimson sash, it seemed almost laughable that this handful of people would decide the fate of an entire country—and that such a fate might rest on me. I was covered in blood and dirt. When I was a stupid, idealistic teenager dreaming of being handed this title, I thought I would do it in spotless regalia, not in bloody rags. This, somehow, seemed so much more fitting.
I sat in a chair before the five of them. Tisaanah watched from the doorway, staying out of the way. Selfishly, I was glad to have her in the room, even as a silent observer. I didn’t expect to be so nervous.
“Let us begin,” Iya said. He turned to the four other councilors. “We gather, councilors, in a state of emergency. The unexpected absence of Nura Qan, Arch Commandant of the Orders and Queen of Ara, as already cause for deep concern. But I think we can all agree the situation has now become… much more dire.”
A murmur of agreement across the Council.
“We have learned of darker news,” he went on. “Nura has lodged an attack on her own people. She is responsible for the destruction of the Towers.”
The councilors gasped. “What?”
“Surely you can’t be implying—”
“I don’t imply anything. It is fact. It seems that she did not take kindly to Maxantarius’s return to Ara. The Lightning Dust that destroyed the Towers was sent by her.”
The councilors gaped, speechless.
I didn’t blame them. It was a lot to process.
Iya, still, remained shockingly calm. “In light of this, I hope we all can agree that Nura Qan cannot remain Arch Commandant. Only one viable candidate from the sixteenth cycle of candidates remains.”
He nodded to me, and four sets of eyes turned to me as I rose.
“And so, I have summoned us together today to call upon Maxantarius Farlione. Councilors, how do you rule?”
The first councilor stood. His name was Waine, and he looked like he had aged a decade since he granted this title to Nura mere months ago. “Under these dire circumstances, I accept this nomination. I bestow the title of Arch Commandant to you, Maxantarius Farlione.”
I wasn’t expecting those words to hit me as hard as they did.
The second councilor rose and repeated her approval. And then the third.
At last, the fourth stood—a woman by the name of Helena. Of the five remaining councilors, Helena was the one I was the most concerned about. She had been one of the councilors who nominated Nura for her original candidacy a decade ago. She was a pragmatist, who ruled according to the law interpreted as strictly as possible.
“Do we have evidence of Nura’s involvement in the attack?” she asked. “That is a serious accusation.”
Iya glanced at me, and I shook my head. “Unfortunately not, Councilor.
It was destroyed in the explosion.”
Nura’s little love note would have been the first thing to go up in the burst of Lightning Dust.
Helena looked pained. “I worry, Iya, about taking rash action before we understand our situation.”
Iya chose his words carefully. “Nura has already been willing to bend the laws of the Orders. She has been dabbling in magics that have been known to strip one’s sanity. Surely we all saw what happened to Zeryth Aldris. What’s more, if she had been captured by the Fey, she likely suffered torture at their hands. I’ve never known that to make someone more moderate. Have you?”
“If we are looking for moderate, then why should we hand the title to a convicted war criminal?”
Waine scoffed, and Helena added, pointedly, “Regardless of what we
personally may think of the legitimacy of the conviction, it stands,
nonetheless.”
“Most Arans view what happened in Sarlazai as a victory, not—”
“They shouldn’t,” I cut in. “Sarlazai never should have been allowed to happen. If you want to disqualify me on that basis, I won’t object. Perhaps I would do the same thing in your position.”
“You are familiar with the circumstances behind that, Helena,” Iya said, quietly. “The responsibility of Sarlazai doesn’t lie with him. We bear as much of it as he does. More, even.”
“We do,” Helena admitted. “In wartime, things seem more desperate. We become more willing to take… extreme measures, when presented to us.” Her eyes slipped to me, apologetic and pitying. “Reshaye was an extreme measure, Maxantarius. We should not have allowed it.”
“I understand the weight of what you’re entrusting me with,” I said. “Not just for the Orders, but for Ara. As long as I hold that power, I will make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. I can’t promise that I will be a perfect ruler. But I can promise that I will do everything that I can to lead us out of this mess with our country and our souls intact.”
I was almost surprised to hear such strong words come out of my mouth. And yet, as I said it, I fully meant it.
What was the point of having this power if I didn’t use it to improve this world?
It is a privilege to do nothing, Tisaanah had once told me.
Helena let out a long breath. “I had such hopes for her,” she muttered, as if to herself. Then she turned to me. “I bestow the title of Arch Commandant to you, Maxantarius Farlione. Wear it well.”
