Embers Still Burn

(2:3:3)

“And what is the point of this?” Winds strode behind his master, his eyes fixed on the crowd ahead milling in Speaker’s Square, the large space filled to overflowing and spilling down the street.

Hafest smiled and gave a quick gesture of greeting to a group that noticed them, his gaze sliding back only briefly. “The point of this, my mouthy servant? This is for our future.”

For their future. They passed through into the square itself, and he kept close by, taking note of auras and sound, on alert for anything out of place. “What future?”

Perhaps a tinge of bitterness had managed to creep into his voice, because Hafest turned to give him an unreadable look before he stepped onto the sound-projecting platform, his grey eyes piercing. “The only kind worth fighting for, of course.”

Winds followed him, his expression showing nothing, his form blending into the background, all focus on his master. From here, he could see every face watching as Hafest’s voice rang out, echoing back from stone and wood buildings, swallowed by the trees shading the green. Hundreds of people searching for answers, desperate to survive whatever came at the end of the few weeks they had left.

And I....

People clinging desperately to their lives, to their way of life.

...don’t understand.

What is there to life?

“We live in an uncertain world, a world in which people will try to take advantage of us, of our fear. They believe they are the saviours of humankind, acting to prevent the end. They believe that any action will save us.” He watched Hafest’s hands grip the stand. “But what safety do they plan to lead us toward? What fate awaits us when our supposed ‘allies’ turn on us?”

His eyelids slipped shut, the sound of the crowd’s cry in response washing over him. What point was there in listening? They could make their own decisions, endeavour to live out the rest of their own lives in peace, in freedom.

“—Domini Seih is at their forefront! A harbinger of our doom through his own ignorance!”

It didn’t matter if Seih doomed them. They would end anyway.

Why should I have fought for them? These people, stuck in their own selfishness, lost in their own fear. Why had he even attempted to change the immutable course of their fate?

“Some do not understand the consequences of action made in error, based on emotion without fact. Did the Light Scale ever speak of Darkness being our end? The Light told us that our doom would be by our own hands, and yet some people have taken coincidence and fear—they have twisted the minds of the fearful and use that to their advantage!”

He opened his eyes to the charged crackle of their syncing aura, some more fearful and hesitant, others intensely locked on Hafest and every word. Don’t you know you will end?

“Domini Seih, Firalk, and all who are with them should be careful where they step. For here are a people not cowed by their attempts to manipulate us. Here are a people who consider the true future over their narrow-minded, fearful vision of tomorrow. And we will not give in to their deceit.”

Cries of agreement and the roar of applause spoke only of further divisions, further unrest. Maybe they didn’t need any external forces to destroy their world. As Hafest said, their doom was to be by their own hands, after all.

Perhaps they would tear themselves apart.

&&&

“You have been glowering for quite a while now.” Hafest’s finger flicked at a leaf growing from the archway as he passed through, the late-evening light casting golden rays across the living room and the yellow flowers now weighing down the vines. “You seem to have an opinion on things, hm?”

His master had spent most of that day speaking with his supporters, building rapport, sympathising with their struggles, engaging as many as possible... and raking Seih over the coals. The way he talked sent warnings through Winds’ soulcore. A sense of wrongness echoed in the eyes of those Hafest spoke to, blooming like dark flowers.

“You are right that Petrah and Arathnea could turn on us. If the rumours of the Arachnid Queen’s opinions are true, and she can convince Petrah.” He would not deny that. “You’re wrong that only a few constructs will give them the means to subjugate us. They won’t need constructs for that.”

“But it does give away the only advantage we might have retained, had the Ripple not taken so long to capture the Constructors, and Seih not urged them to simply let them go once they had. Now they are even endorsing their little projects!” Hafest flicked his fingers, clicking his tongue in distaste. “He’ll have us gearing for war, next. The Unity won’t even have to invade once we’ve joined ourselves at the hip.”

“You keep mentioning Seih as if he were the mastermind. A ‘harbinger of doom’. A demon and enemy of the people.”

His master stilled, still turned away from him, a slow smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Turning away lazily, his aura curling with sharp ends, he scritched under the chin of one of the fluffwings. “He is, and he should be removed from the Ripple.”

His own gaze bored into the man’s back. “Through what methods?”

“Are you fond of the Domini, Winds?” Hafest finally turned to face him, a glitter in his eyes that sent that chill through his soulcore again. “I thought you had never spoken to him?”

He didn’t move. “What are you planning?”

“I’m glad you asked.” His master left the animal, striding over to circle him, instead, a finger chucking under his chin. “Because you are exactly the one I need for this, my little messenger.”

Holding firm, he locked eyes with his master. “I already sent him a message.”

Hafest ruffled his hair, pale blue-lavender locks obscuring his vision briefly. “This one is more... personal. As in at his house, within his bedchambers—” his voice lowered, rumbling against Winds’ ear— “close in against his skin with a knife.”

...

“You want me to assassinate him.”

“Not quite.” Hafest drew back, smiling, his aura dark. “I want you to put the fear of the void in him. I want you to drive into his thick skull that if he continues down this path, he will have opposition.”

Winds’ hands closed into fists, squeezing against his palms. “Why not simply use your influence in the Ripple? He is a lower Domini. He doesn’t have much influence.”

“I grow tired of your arguments, Winds,” the man’s voice lowered to a growl, and lifted with a sigh. “But I’ll give you an answer. There are others with influence who will listen to him, unfortunately, and merely arguing against him won’t be enough to mitigate the possibility that what he puts forward could go through. As it did this time. However, if he’s silenced....”

Winds closed his eyes, bowing his head. The nails of his fingers dug against the toughened skin of his hands, a twist rising in his core, clenching tight around his very essence. This was wrong. This was going beyond sabotage, beyond simple politics. It was moving against a man who was flawed, yes, but....

“...I’d try to understand why...”

Air slipped through his lips, stuttering and jagged. Silent. The threat of assassination today, and the true act tomorrow. If he didn’t stop here, then where would he draw the line?

“No.”

He sensed Hafest turn slowly. Sensed his unblinking gaze lock onto him, his voice soft and low. Mild and deadly. “I hope I heard that incorrectly, my Divination.”

My existence isn’t worth anything.

It’s not worth this.

He raised his head, meeting dark eyes. “You did not hear incorrectly, my master.”

For a long moment Hafest simply gazed at him, the edges of his aura slowly shifting from near-rigid to cold, spined, and focused. “I’m not sure if you simply don’t understand what it means to disobey, or if you wish to be wiped.”

His master advanced, and he stood where he was, even as Hafest loomed above him, drawing close enough to grab his shoulder with an iron grip. “You would disobey your master, would you?”

“I refuse to harm Domini Seih. I choose this of my own free will.” The words came out softly, the coldness wound tight in his core melting to a deeper sadness. His first and his last true, open act of free will. A choice.

A nail dug into the skin of his face, carving across his cheekbone, bared teeth a mere flick away from his nose as fingers dug into his shoulder. His master’s voice was a deadly murmur in his ear. “That’s a shame. I was enjoying getting to see how you developed.

“But I’m afraid I’ll have to send you back to your makers.”