* * *
Jerithea
* * *
There is something going on here beyond Ariktheoni being strange. I haven't been around long, but the... well, the older Archo aren't normally ones to do things like fret and worry and, well, be anything but staid embodiments of their Duties. An uncertain Arik and a silent Litheosil and a quiet, brooding Emperor are just not the way things are supposed to be, and... well, it's got me a bit off-balance as well.
Not that I've had much time to find my balance in the first place. Four months isn't a long time to be alive.
I wonder what's changed. No, really, I wonder why the older Archo are like that to begin with -- all solid and boring. Anavar-chozeh is different, and I bet it has something to do with that weird eye of his. I thought it was just part of his Duty, being the one to see beyond the Veil, into the future and past and all that finger-waggly stuff, but now both of Arik's eyes have changed. I'm pretty sure it doesn't mean that the Law is suddenly going to be able to see twice what the Seer sees.
Or is the Law blinded? ... No, he's moving pretty fast towards the courtyards. Whatever made those funny holes in his eyes--
No. The Emperor said something about lifting the Veil when he changed Arik's eyes.
I do something I haven't dared to do in a while, and deliberately reach for Arik's mind. He's so focused now that the confusion from earlier is buried very deep. He notices me, but this time he doesn't try to push me out or block me or anything. He simply lets me come along with him.
I follow in body as well.
* * *
Arik
* * *
Everything is as if I'm laying eyes on it for the first time. In a way, I suppose I am.
Things are distorted in some way that I can't quite lay my finger on. I look around, and I see so clearly the wildness, the overwhelming freedom that the people of Chethar live with. I see them making decisions, making wrong decisions -- not in a way that calls out to the Law, but just... mistakes. I worry for a moment if I'm no longer actually the Gahalespbar-archo, but I watch someone steal an apple and feel the familiar, very welcome twinge.
It doesn't occur to me until I'm inside the gates that I let it go. Not only did I let it go, I walked away because I had decided it didn't matter. But then, with Jerithea running around, does it really matter anyway? She'd simply let him go once again anyway. I'm just saving a step in the process.
That's not quite how I work, she says, managing to sound cross and curious all at once.
I shrug it off, standing to one side and letting her pass through the gates of the High Army's compound before me. She looks up at me, frowning slightly as she passes.
She looks so... so blameless.
I shake my head and resume walking towards the main offices. I pass through the entrance, and the first of the High Army to see me freeze halfway through their bows, staring at me in shock. I find myself rather enjoying the unusual attention. After all, the soldiers in the High Army are known for being rather unflappable. After a moment, they finish their bows and stand at attention. I nod as I pass them, and feel them watching me as I leave them behind.
At the end of the hall, the grand oak doors of the Office of the High Chetharian Army stand ajar. I push one door fully open and walk in. The Gahalespthet-archo stands, meets my eyes, and trips over his own feet.
"Your eyes..." he says in lieu of proper address. I smile and let it slide.
"Elatheoni, please gather everyone in the courtyards for an address."
My first officer blinks a few times, then vanishes without even a whisper of question.
"A fine officer," Jerithea says.
I raise an eyebrow at her carefully neutral tone, then nod. "What are you really wanting to ask, Jerithea?"
She jumps slightly, then tilts her head. "You've never acknowledged me before."
It's the plain truth, but I have nothing to say in response. I simply wait, watching her think, weigh her words, and decide.
"You..." Jerithea bites her lower lip, then decides to finish the thought I've already seen half-formed in her mind. "Have you noticed anything different between the Archo and... well, you?"
It's my turn to pause and think. It's not that I've never had a thought before, but there's a clarity, and yet a certain chaos in my mind now. There's so many routes to take, and so many different choices and ways of doing things that if I focus too long, I feel myself getting lost in ever-spiraling possibilities and options. It seems as though I'm truly free to do anything. If I will it, then I can make it happen. It's a heady feeling, like throwing myself off a cliff only to find myself soaring in the clouds unaided.
She touches my elbow, snapping me out of that strange introspection. "Be careful, Arik. You are still the Law, and should you turn against that..."
I look at her and grin. "What is there to worry about? Even if I falter, you'd simply wash it away, and I could just keep going."
"No." I blink in surprise, but her face is all seriousness. "You turn your back on yourself, if you deliberately set out to unbalance the world and bring destruction upon us... Arik, I will hand down your sentence with my own breath, as the Emperor wills it." Her eyes are locked on mine, and I don't dare look away. "You have the ability to choose your own path now, but that doesn't mean you're free from the consequences of those choices."
I nod, the incongruity of being lectured by someone younger than my horse not quite making up for the very real threat in those brown whole eyes, looking at me with the Emperor's gaze. As we turn and make our way back towards the courtyards, the image of those solid brown eyes lingers in my head.
We Archo are defined by our veiled eyes, by that bond with our creator that dictates the form of our thoughts and actions. Jerithea speaks for the Emperor as part of her Duty as much as any Archo, but part of me wonders just how much influence the Emperor still has over me. How much freedom has the destruction of that bond actually granted me?
She looks at me out of the corner of her eye as we walk back towards the courtyards, but if she heard that particular musing, she makes no comment.
* * *
Theosil
* * *
As he looks out over the assembly, Arik shows nothing but confidence. He's even smiling ever-so-slightly, his posture at ease. By contrast, Jerithea and Elatheoni look positively ill. Jerithea is shifting her weight around on her feet, bouncing in place as if to comfort herself, her face flushed with some excess of emotion. Elatheoni keeps clenching and unclenching his jaw.
The most bizarre sight on that dais is still my brother -- or rather, the lack of my brother. He's apart from everything in subtle ways, as if the air itself is holding back from touching him. At the same time, there's something strangely solid about him, as if he were the only true being here, and the rest of us were hovering spirits, unaware of our incorporeal state.
I feel the internal nudge that it is time to truly record what is being said, and on cue Arik opens his mouth and begins to speak. My quill nearly freezes in place. He's... whatever is coming out of his mouth, it is no language that I am aware of.
Judging from the reactions of the others gathered around, everyone is experiencing the same thing. That is, everyone except Anavar. He's watching Arik with focused interest, his hand folded neatly behind his back as he stands at attention. He notices my forming inquiry and replies before I've finished forming the question.
It is one of the effects of the Veil being lifted. The corners of his eyes crinkle in the beginnings of what might actually be a smile. He isn't truly speaking a different language, although in a way he is. This is what it sounds like when the voice of our Emperor is removed from our throats. And yes, Litheosil, I understand perfectly what he is saying. He snorts. He is communicating nothing of any great import, I assure you.
I have the curious feeling that Anavar spoke to all of us together at that moment. A couple of twitches and glances in our direction lend some weight to that theory.
The thought stirs in me... what if he is? What if...
It is difficult to form the thought, but it is there nonetheless, itching and stirring like a burr in my tunic.
What if he is saying something of profound importance, but for some reason the Emperor wants us to believe otherwise? And on that thought's heels, the real question blooms.
What is there beyond the Emperor's domain? What are we prevented from seeing?
Anavar turns to me and smiles. I hardly notice over the silent roar of thousands of minds forming the exact same question. It shows in the wave of confused, furitive glances towards the Citadel Hacavah, the seat of the Empire. In stark contrast, many have adopted politely attentive stares, simply waiting out the strange speech of the Gahalespbar-archo.
"We have seen enough," Anavar says, unclasping his hands and brushing past me. I feel the same call, but I am slow to remove myself from the scene. However, my Emperor beckons, and I apparently have another task to fulfill. I carefully roll my parchment and stow my quill, then take my leave.
I don't think Arik noticed my departure, or that I had been there at all.
