Chapter 54: To Follow a Script (Simon)

I sit alone on a wooden bench outside the throne room. I give the Dogs facts about the treatment of my people, but I can’t give them the full picture. There is no way in hell I can bring myself to tell them the truth about the red-light district. For I fear that they are watching. Being among those in the crowds seeing if I will make a slip. It hurts… by the Gods, it hurts! The only person I am ashamed of is myself. Gods know I am the only person to blame. What’s worse? I can’t bear the dignity of watching the vote take place. What’s the point?
The door to the throne room swings open, and a Dog approaches me with a subtle smile. ‘I want to speak on behalf of Skav. He appreciates your cooperation.’
Of course he’ll say that. I let out a heavy sigh as I pinch the ridge of my nose, and the Dog went back inside the throne room. A simple message, a clear indication that a monster approves of my actions, and that I complied. It is wrong; the taste of my mouth is so foul I could puke right here. Yet I did it. I lied to save my own skin and allow the continuous rape of my people to happen. I undermine the horror that is taking place, I’m a pawn… no, I am a fucking monster. A coward who deserves nothing but death by this point. I shouldn’t even call myself a Cinari, not when I just did something horrible.
It makes me wonder, do I even have a place among my people? I helped the enemy. I used to protest to end slavery and advocate for the Dogs before this war even happened. There won’t be a trial, justice will not be delivered to those who did untold amounts of evil. The evil I have done.
If the General understands why I need to be here, I am fine. But it is the moral implications of it all. I think I am doing the right thing. Standing for a people who were once and still are in some cases our slaves.
However, because of this war. They are now no different to the enslavers. It all comes back to me, helping people who have no problem making my kind suffer. Alex is good; he wants the best for all of us. But he is just one man! Even as a leader, I doubt he can make changes. Nor do I think he is above anyone when he is willing to slaughter my people to get his way. Though I suppose even good people tend to become heartless bastards when the time calls for it.
Yet, it leaves this to me. Can I even call myself a Cinari? I don’t know anymore. After the war, the horror. I think I have seen too much and learned too much to proudly call myself one. Makes me wonder when this war even started. Was it when Marak broke free from Dragon Mine? Or when he took the town of Mindas?
No… it is before that. It has to be. The war started hundreds of years ago. When we fought, subjugated, and culturally genocided their people. The war never ended; this is just a continuation of centuries of conflict. Centuries of murder and slavery!
It makes sense now. War isn’t just military forces battling against one another in an open field. It can be the enactment of policies that bring a certain group down and force them to stay down without hope of a better future. They always say the quill is mightier than the sword, and they are right. When a quill can declare the enslavement of a people and do everything to ensure they remain as such. What hope do they have if our legal systems prevent them from standing up to defend themselves? This is a thing nations in war do, and this is our forever war. We have written a declaration of war against their kind because we wanted their labour.
I know I am never proud of my nation enslaving them. It is a great shame, a sin that we are repaying at this moment. It is hard to call myself a Cinari because of something so abhorrent, but now it is impossible because of my cowardice.
Our former slaves, the Dogs. They are just continuing this war. Following our example because it is the only one they know. They have the capacity for evil, and they are willing to show it without shame or guilt. I heard stories of what happens at mines and plantations, I never saw any die, but I understand they were suffering. Or so I thought. It is becoming clear that the scale and the severity of their pain is more than I can imagine, and they are mirroring what we do to them. They are not more evil than us, the Dogs are our perfect mirror.
The crowd of Dogs leave the throne room, heading to where they need to be. Some talk among themselves, proud of the results. I don’t listen to them. I want to hear it from Alex himself.
He stands before me, his face says it all. His pained expression, the disappointment in his eyes. The bill didn’t pass… and I lost. I failed, I failed my people.
I slump down, burying my face in my hands. Alex, without saying a word, sits next to me. I can tell he is ashamed, guilty of the results. But he has to respect it; he can’t overturn the ruling or deny the vote. Not when it risks him and his ideals.
He may never know. I think it is best that he doesn’t know about what happened yesterday. It is nice of him to sit beside me, even in silence. He is a flawed man, an idealistic and deeply naive fool at times. But deep down, there is a sense of good within him. Alex is a good leader, but he is a leader in the wrong era.