The Currents Stir and Swell

“Well that didn’t go anywhere.”

Brei’s voice greeted him as he pulled up out of soulspace after her, away from the ghostly ring watching through the senses of the Divination who had recorded the public session.

And it hadn’t. Not really.

As he gazed out over the wrought iron balcony of the little cafe and the valley stretched below, watching the people wandering along the street, a wagon trundling along the delivery thoroughfare, he couldn’t help but think that it all looked so... normal. It was like nothing had changed. And nothing should have changed, really—errands still needed to be run, houses and businesses maintained. Life didn’t stop even with a distant shadow hanging over their heads.

“Tambo seems to be poking the nest for you, though,” Brei continued from the other side of the table.

“Tambo’s a Lower Domini, and a wild element. He aims to gather public opinion, not the support of the other councillors, or the Hand.” Tapping idly at the side of his cup, he couldn’t help his attention from wandering, half-images of jagged stone and unseeing eyes flickering in the dark spaces between buildings.

“Firalk also seems to agree with you. Maybe he can push them into doing something.”

“He agrees that I have a point, but he’s not willing to throw in with anything solid.” He watched a bird swoop into the shadows under the eaves of a house down below, disappearing from view. “Firalk is a doer, but he’s also high in the council and unwilling to risk his position. He’ll agree with me, but he’ll also let it lie when everyone moves on instead of pushing the point.”

“Yes, well, you nearly got thrown out because of your speech,” she said, a sharp tinge of amusement in the edge of her voice. “And I have to say, that was pretty fiery, for you. It was a good, riling speech.”

He closed his eyes. “Probably too fiery. They’ll talk about it now, but by two weeks’ time it’ll be swept back under the bushes.”

“I guess it also wasn’t really all you, was it?” When he opened his eyes again, she was leaning on her hands, looking at him with an odd expression he couldn’t quite read.

“Not all, but most of it,” he hedged, wondering where exactly she was heading with that. “I wasn’t possessed. Mildly influenced, maybe.”

“Mm.” She dropped her eyes, playing with her cup, and he watched it spun under her finger. “Still. Though, maybe you didn’t have to tell everyone to leave.”

Ah. He watched the sculpted ceramic glint in the sun, a silent breath escaping his lips. “I didn’t intend for anyone to take that up the way they are.”

The reaction to his spur-of-the-moment speech—archived now and spreading among the populace more than he was really comfortable with—had been unexpected. People saying that they’d leave in protest to his suspension. People quoting his words and declaring that if dismissing a Domini was the most action the council could muster, then they’d be better off in Petrah or even Arathnea. It was completely out of his control.

And yet, he didn’t blame them. Maybe a part of him was relieved they, like his parents, were escaping this place before it became the land of his nightmares.

“Half the farmers and outskirters were already eyeing packing up and leaving when the council quietly shuffled away that prophecy.” Brei threw up her hands. “You dumped hot coals on withered grass. Of course everyone and their canid is leaving.”

“...I hadn’t heard much about that.”

“Well, according to Dad, it’s been swirling around for the last month among him and all his friends. Not that he bothered to tell me until just a few days ago.”

He met her eyes. “I’m sorry, Brei.”

She huffed, turning away, her mouth set in a thin line. “That stupid ox. Does anyone really think Petrah will be better off than anywhere else? Dad should know better. He should know better.”

“I think he will be better off in Petrah,” Seih tried, gently. “They’re better defended than we are.”

“We have the Light scalelets! We have the Light Scale itself! We’re the centre of the Cradle! We live on Fire’s Mountain, for Reyahn’s sake!” She snapped. “Shouldn’t we focus on trying to do something here? We’re the Light of civilisation. This is our home. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Seih eyed her, the murmur of conversation from others on the balcony filling the silence as she glared at him. “Do you think you can save something that’s already doomed?”

“Ugh! To the shadows with your felled philosophy!” Her chair screeched back as she abruptly stood. “I’ve heard enough of all these stupid questions and all this... this pedantic mop-water. I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving, and I’m going to do my damned best to do something about this pit of shadows if it kills me, unlike you and everyone else.”

He hadn’t meant it like that. “Brei—”

“Don’t contact me.” She ignored him as he stood, too, already turning away from him, the slightly curled ends of her black hair caught by the breeze. “I’m visiting Dad tomorrow. I don’t want any interruptions.”

...He wouldn’t push her when she was like this. Better to just give her room for the storm to peter out. A soft sigh escaped him as she left, and he settled on giving her a simple, “Light’s shining, Brei.”

She didn’t reply.