Let It Rise on the Wind

(12:1:6)

Twenty-five voices conflicted beneath the grand, arched ceiling of the Ripple.

Twenty-five faces scowling, shouting, or intensely silent debated under the light streaming through the sky pane onto their flowing tunics and intricately-patterned robes. Watched over by towering columns rising to meet the immovable stone clothed in twining green ropes, they sat within their ringed tiers dipping towards the pit of the five leaders within its inner circle—the Hand guiding their society. They spoke and reasoned and verbally crashed into each other in a storm of chaotic energy, agreeing and arguing, auras flickering and flaring.

That light played between them in lightning arcs almost as fascinating as the inherent uselessness of their furore.

“Yes, but what does it mean?”

Standing at the edge, among the other peacefully silent figures outside the rings, he reflected that such questioning was pointless. The flare of input from the Scale had been unequivocal. They would end in twelve iterations of the Hunter’s Paxt cycle of the moons. If they had asked any Divination, there would have been no need for this endless circle of debate.

Of course, he was on the outside, watching with the rest of his brethren as these humans pushed so much air from their lungs. He wasn’t invited to speak in the ring of the councillors’ debate, only watch.

Winds reflected that this, too, was pointless. Especially since Beam was the only one assigned to record any of this for the benefit of a public audience.

“The meaning is clear. The consequences of that meaning are what we must turn our attention to.”

It was routine that those of the inner circle would argue over one another, Jondice and Firalk especially using the opportunity to debate the authenticity of anything related to the Temple and the Light Scale within it. It was predictable that his own master and the others should provide supplementary points adding to either side as they saw fit, aiming precise strikes. And it was inevitable that as reasoning turned circular and their points trod over themselves until they were more bludgeoning than reason, that the Hand should step in.

Kuryllan’s voice cut off the beginning of Firalk’s answer, the debate pausing as he continued. “Our people are afraid. A cloud hangs over Firemount that we can’t shake, and the message will spread throughout the Light’s rippling, across the weavings, and into every corner of soulspace within the civilised world. We must calm their fears and provide a solution.”

“Can we provide a solution?”

Winds’ attention flicked up to the highest tier below as one of the councillors of the Lower Dominions spoke, his aura barely visible at this distance, but with a hint of uneasiness, like wisps of shadowy steam rising off the edges. Seih Hestas. Twenty. Currently the youngest Domini, having joined the council as of two years ago. “Inexperienced”, Hafest, his master, often dismissed the younger man who looked after the Dominion beneath his own.

“Of course we can,” Hafest interjected smoothly. “The only solution we can give is to wait.”

“To wait? For what?” The other man said sharply. “For the world to crumble?”

“For a solution to present itself, of course. What can we do now, but flail at shadows? Your honours,” his master turned to the Hand, “our people are frightened because they are confused and have no target for their fear. I suggest we reassure them that there is no threat to our lands that we can perceive, and that occasionally, as Jondice says, the Scale’s tenders misinterpret the Light’s pulses. Until we have made thoroughly sure of this prophecy, we should continue on as usual. Perhaps, if we remain pious, we may receive another pulse clarifying what we should do.”

Winds could see that he’d caught most of the others with that line of reasoning, though the other, younger Domini remained unconvinced, his face and posture stiff but silent as others in the Ripple agreed.

|They took so long to reach such an obvious solution,| Stones remarked, beside him.

|Hafest Aeris has earned their respect by putting it forward, first.|

Vines hummed faintly, on his other side. |He reasons logically, but applies a wide net, as many humans aiming for approval do.|

|Seih Hestas did the opposite,| Winds noted.

|Brave but foolish. His actions will not win him applause.|

He hummed. |The debate itself had many interesting points.|

|Circular,| Stones rumbled.

|But they argue so fervently against absolutes in order to reassure themselves,| he commented. |Do you really believe it’s possible for tenders infused with so much Light to be so wrong?|

|They have little faith in that which is not themselves.|

He watched the Hand take Hafest’s suggestion and confer inaudibly among themselves before formulating a response to their panicking population’s cry for reassurance and sending it through soulspace. |Humanity is a fascinating contradiction.|

|They’re a contradiction. I would be careful with any fascination,| Stones warned, giving him a sidelong glance from under his perfectly curled, metallic blue hair, his head never moving.

“Due to the calling of this emergency session, today’s regular meeting will be moved to tomorrow,” Elka, a member of the Hand, announced as they concluded, her clear voice ringing through the room. “If there is no further discourse to be added, we will call this meeting adjourned.”

|Of course. I am only interested to see how this plays out.| Winds watched as physical notes were packed up and handed to his fellow Divinations, a hubbub of low voices rising. His own master didn’t have any to hand over.

Winds fell silently into position beside and behind him, subtly directing a message to Beam. |How are they reacting to the broadcast?|

|Data is still coming in. They seem to be uneasy, but calmer, overall. Most left for the majority of the meeting due to boredom and other obligations.|

|Hf. Humans.|

“That boy, challenging me,” Hafest snorted, returning his attention to the rest of the room as they strode through the towering exit into the stone-lit corridor beyond. “He should be more grateful I’m letting him join that waterworks project of his to Semini District’s system.”

And yet, that challenge had created a good opening for him. It was strange, how humans could react.

The man hummed as they passed beneath the pillars twisting to join above them. “What’s your assessment on these developments?”

The gold of his irises flickered as he dutifully pulled forth the points he’d already compiled. “There is a low chance of error on the part of the tenders. It’s most likely that any reassurances on the part of the council will have a surface-level impact only, and any local or international events will cause anxiety to spike again.”

“In that case it would be best to drag out the confirmation,” Hafest commented. “A shame, that people can be so superstitious. I’d label it a blatant attempt to shove more religious responsibility on us, myself.... Ah, Delryhn! Just the woman I wanted to see.”

Winds dutifully took up position at a respectful but close enough distance that he could step in to defend his master if need be, letting his gaze roam through the tall arched corridor, the Light stones inset in each column ridge illuminating the mosaic-patterned floor and flowing tapestries. None of the people coming or going held any hint of ill intent.

|Winds.| Another Divination padded silently towards him, hands hidden in her flowing sleeves, her deep red eyes flickering a greeting in her impassive face.

|Feather.| He smiled slightly, his eyes glowing in return.

|Quite the development for the humans.|

|It is,| he agreed, listening with half an ear to the two councillors’ conversation as it moved on to matters of business instead of speculation revolving around some of the more hysterical citizens’ notions that this meant the return of Darkness and the end of the world. |Their reaction to it is... quite interesting.|

“...done a fine job of the arrangements for Dragon’s Crown. I’m impressed.”

|Interesting if you have an interest in humans and their foolish ramblings,| she dismissed.

|But if they fall, we will, too,| he pointed out.

“Yes, well, I do try. It is quite the occasion, after all. We haven’t had a celestial event like this in decades.”

|Then we will fall. It is only humans who struggle to escape the inevitable.|

He hummed. |Their entire existence is a contradiction. The miracle of existence is, in itself, a contradiction—to be given life, only to die one way or another. Why wouldn’t they struggle to hold onto it?|

|You listen to too many of their talks.| She pulsed her disapproval. |I wouldn’t get involved, if I were you. There is little point in listening to their pompous, self-absorbed rhetoric.|

|And yet....| He mused, the short conversation beginning to wind down, Hafest’s sense already projecting that he was going to move on in a minute or two.

|Put your hand in a fire, and you will be burned.|

|I only wish to monitor their response.| He waited patiently. |It’s the duty I’ll be assigned, anyway.|

She gave a silent huff of an almost-sigh, catching his attention with the surprisingly human gesture. This topic bothered her more than he’d thought. |Be careful with your curiosity. Humans tend not to appreciate it.|

|...I will.| He searched her expressionless face and perfectly muted aura briefly, hesitating just a moment as Hafest moved away. And finally turned to follow with one last reassurance.

|Don’t worry.|