Chapter 43 - Metaphor’s Muse

Images flicker and burn behind my eyelids. I am a collector of ghosts and curator of losses.

Both a testament to time and a testament to time's past.

Instead of slowing, my breathing feels like it’s increasing in tempo. I need to get out of my room and get some fresh air.

My legs are stiff, and every movement sends a fresh wave of protest up my wounded arm, but I have to leave.

I burst through the front door where I am met with a loud, polished authority.

Knight Captain Arrian is standing with his back to me. The late evening sun glints off the pauldrons on his shoulders unnaturally. He doesn’t turn around, they seem to be having some kind of argument.

Riel’s borrowed authority is sitting on him like an ill-fitting cloak. Roach is sandwiched, caught between his loyalty to the village and his deference to a superior officer.

“Let me be unequivocally clear!” Arrian says, in a drawn tone. “The rebuilding of this settlement will be overseen by the Kingdom Guard. Every resource, every man-hour, every decision will be funneled through my command.”

“With all due respect, Knight Captain Arrian sir.” Riel begins, his voice tight but holding steady, “Chief Orville’s directive was that I was to lead the efforts.”

Arrian turns his head slightly, just enough to pin Riel with a look of theatrical disbelief. “The Chief’s directive?” he scoffs. “ I have the utmost respect for the Chief’s past service, but his current state hardly makes him a reliable source of command.”

A soft murmur ripples through the small crowd of villagers who have gathered to watch. Riel’s face flushes with a mixture of anger and humiliation. “He is still the Chief of this village.”

“This village,” Arrian counters, taking a slow, deliberate step forward, forcing Riel to stand his ground or retreat, “is now under a state of martial law, sanctioned by the crown. Your local customs are a quaint sentiment, but they do not supersede the kingdom’s authority. We are here to provide stability and security in a time of crisis. Not to indulge the fancies of a dying man.” He dismisses Riel with a flick of his gauntleted hand, his gaze sweeping over the scene with cold possession.

“Knight Captain Arrian,” Roach finally speaks, his voice a growl of carefully controlled frustration. “Riel has the respect of everyone in the village, including me. He has always been a brave guard.”

Arrian turns his cold eyes on Roach. “And I respect your command of the local guard, Roach. Which is why you will understand the importance of a clear chain of command. Your loyalty is now to me. See to it that your men understand that.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply before walking away, his silver armour a beacon of unassailable power that leaves behind a trail of shattered morale. 

The villagers melt away, their faces grim, their shoulders slumped under the weight of this new, internal defeat.

Riel just stands there in a state of impotent fury. Roach places a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of solidarity that is tragically insufficient. “He’s a Knight Captain. Don’t.” 

Riel shrugs off the hand, and walks heads towards the lonely quiet of the northern gate.

Roach doesn’t go after him, he simply directs the crowd and joins them in retreating to their evening activities. 

My state of panic is completely torn away by the chaos of the situation. 

I take a seat on the steps outside to try and process what just happened. It sounds like I missed Orville laying out responsibilities to everyone. It seems that even this world has issues with management.

As I ponder the why’s and why not’s of the situation I hear footsteps to my right that make me look up. It’s Riel. The anger has drained out of him, leaving behind a hollowed-out weariness that I recognize all too well. He stops a few feet away from me.

“I just went to get you these, Naoki was clutching them so tightly that night.” Riel says nervously.

I look down and in his hands is the bundle of my clothes Elara repaired for me. My heart drops as I scramble to my feet to collect them from his hands.

“Th-Thank you Riel. Is Naoki ok? I haven't been able to go back to check on him.” I feel terrible that I just took the chance to rest without thinking about my other obligations.

“He’s fine, Clovis has been down there all day. We’ll try to find his family tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave your side whilst you were unconscious, so we didn’t push for him to leave.” Riel replies earnestly.

He sinks down onto the steps, the weight of his self-doubt a palpable thing in the space between us. “I didn’t ask for this. All this responsibility.”

I sit back down beside him before he continues. “I feel like I am stepping on Roach’s toes. He’s a better leader than I’ll ever be and yet the chief trusted me with leading the village repair effort. And now Arrian… How am I supposed to lead anyone when I can’t even command the respect of my own superiors?”

I think about the right words to say, the perfect line to deliver, but nothing feels adequate. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to know how to do it all at once.” I say softly. He turns to look at me, searching for an answer I don’t have. “You seem different from when I first met you.”

I look down at my own trembling hands, at the ugly, weeping wounds on my arm hidden beneath the sleeve. “I know how it feels. To have a weight put on you that you didn’t ask for, that you don’t think you can carry.” I meet his face again, letting him see my shared fragility. 

“But the Chief… he saw something in you, Riel. He wouldn’t have chosen you if he didn't think you were the best person for the job. Maybe… maybe he just saw the person you’re going to be, not the one you think you are right now.”

He doesn’t reply, but I see a subtle shift in his posture. A tiny, fragile seed of resolve has been planted. 

My words haven't fixed him, but maybe they’ve given him a reason to not give up. And for now, that has to be enough.