Reborn From the Cosmos

Arc 8-21

“Shall we start with a recap?” Geneva says, neither Kierra’s attention or her food preparation giving her the slightest pause. My thoughts briefly drift to the thought of the amazing dinner waiting for us, but I quickly shove it aside. This is part of the problem, isn’t it? Why I’m not making progress. Not wanting to risk my most likely immortal life by opening my mind to Geneva is fine, unquestionably smart, but that means I have to put in more effort. A colossal amount of effort. Becoming a dedicated magical scholar from one day to the next is asking the impossible, but the least I can manage is giving my complete focus to a relevant conversation.

“Proceeding the Violet March—"

“Wait,” I interject, wincing the moment I do. Asking questions just slows an explanation down. Really, interrupting someone before they even manage a full sentence is just disrespectful. But since she already paused… “Violet March. Is that something you came up with or…”

“It’s what the Traditionalists, the hunters in charge of the Authority, are calling the battle.”

“Ah. Alright, go on.”

“As I was saying, before the battle, someone had already targeted one of the caches where part of the Authority was located. Who remains a mystery, though the Traditionalists have ideas. The guilds had problems before you arrived with an agenda from the north, those that disagreed with letting a stash of legendary weapons and equipment gather dust because a bunch of skeletons said they weren’t to be touched. The point is that the Traditionalists were eager to relocate the other caches of the Authority but were incredibly suspicious of being watched, something that has impeded my efforts significantly.

“They were unable to find those caches before the battle. Amazingly, their suspicion didn’t lapse. I hoped they would immediately secure the Authority, but it would seem all the arrogant ones died or were humbled into silence. After regrouping, they became even more paranoid and careful. They have a camp to the southwest, fairly large, well-defended. I don’t know much more than that. They have not one, but five watchtowers, four at every corner of the camp and one at the center to watch the other towers. All of them are manned by at least one person with an artifact that mutes their thoughts, making it infeasible to read their minds for more than scant moments. It is also impossible to approach, as every hunter has been ordered to kill anything that approaches. Those not in the know, which includes the vast majority, think it’s a matter of securing food, but I’m reasonably sure that the powers in charge are taking measures against shapeshifters.”

“Are you saying you don’t know much?”

“Merely painting a picture so you understand how valuable what I do know is and how hard I had to work for it. Hard enough to deserve a treat maybe?” Her smile is playful as she takes a small pause, shimmying out of Kierra’s arms to put the tray containing her dough balls in the oven. Then she nonchalantly walks back into Kierra’s arms, making the elf giggle.

“They made reading their thoughts too costly but are careless with their body language. It was trivial to discern the regular, bored, hungry, and confused hunters whose minds are preoccupied with thoughts about how they’re going to support themselves in the future and rebuild their homes from the stiff and anxious Traditionalists who were repeating strange mantras in their minds to keep their thoughts from wandering. Quite effective, if you do not have their artifacts or a spell to dampen your thoughts. Of course, you will inevitably slip. Few creatures have complete dominion over their minds.”

“Like you, you mean?”

She only grins in response. “The Traditionalists sent their people into the city to check the location of the caches.” Then she should know where they’re all located. “And this is where their caution shines. These scouts weren’t told a single thing about the caches. They were only directed to survey a certain area and report back. Some of them were even decoys.”

“How do you know?” They wouldn’t be told they were decoys.

“While they weren’t aware if they were the decoys, they did know that there were too many areas being scouted. There were twenty-two, by the way. They covered the whole of the city destroyed in your rampage. Very thorough.”

“I believe we have done these guilds a favor,” Kierra hums, her first comment since Geneva began her update. “We have purged their weak.”

“Please, don’t,” I grumble. What I did was not a favor.

“I apologize, my love. But it is a fact that if these cautious minds had prevailed before, things would have happened very differently.”

“I haven’t been able to piece together much about their history, but from the grumblings of the ignorant hunters in the camp, I understand that the Traditionalists were a known faction within the guilds but, prior to the battle, they didn’t have much authority,” Geneva mused. “I imagine that they had to pay a price for being the wardens of the Authority. A vow to keep them from shucking their duty and using its power for their own ends. Perhaps they gave up their ability to make decisions for the guilds as a whole in return for managing the Authority. Such an exchange would weed out those who only wanted the duty for selfish reasons.”

“They would also want only the best for such a duty,” Kierra continued. “The strongest and the smartest would be drafted and then stripped of their ability to influence the lesser members of their groups.”

“A setup destined for failure,” Geneva said with a sad shake of her head. “I’m sure the uninitiated members developed a resentment against the Traditionalists, both for the implied belief that they are better than their counterparts and for keeping the Authority from them. Even if their smart, cautious minds suggested a better option, I can imagine the regular members ignoring it out of spite.”

“Hence the Swords and the Shields,” I add, referencing the two factions the guilds were divided into before the battle, those that wanted to oppose us and those that wanted to pay off the north. “Oh, this makes so much sense. The Swords wanted to oppose us because they knew about the Authority. They were sure they could win. No, winning might not have anything to do with it.” 

My thoughts race as I thought about every history lesson about the schemes of nobles in the past and every dastardly thing I’ve heard whispered by Father and Uncle Jackal in the dead of night when they thought a younger me was already in bed. “They might not have cared if they won or lost, so long as the Traditionalists were forced into giving up control of the Authority. A war would make them hand over the weapons needed to win it, right?”

Geneva opens her mouth, but I hold up a hand, wanting to follow my thoughts to their conclusions. “But it didn’t work because people don’t give up their power that easily. These Traditionalists, their power comes from keeping the Authority secret. They give it up, they’re just regular hunters. I’m sure there’s some benefit to being a part of the exclusive group. Money or spells, something. So, they’d do anything in their power to keep the status quo, even going along with the insane traditions of the north.

“However, they’re the minority and they can’t just strong arm the Swords if their tradition is non-interference. They can’t just break that vow because their traditions are what gives them all their power, yeah? That’s why Slade came to us. I always thought it was weird that he wanted us to assault the other faction. It’s because the Shields, or the Traditionalists, couldn’t take action themselves. That’s also why there was no retaliation from Slade and that first cache being attacked. They can’t retaliate.

“But all that’s changed now, hasn’t it? After their losses, the Swords have lost all credibility and so the Traditionalists are in charge. Huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Geneva’s smile is slow and smug. “That exact scenario is very high on my own list of theoretical explanations. Very good.”

A rare pride, for an accomplishment rather than an advantage, swells in my chest. “Eh, well. Can’t go wrong if you assume everyone is a selfish bastard.”