* * *
Theosil
* * *
To my surprise, the Emperor does not ask for a report when I appear in his private workroom. He simply motions me towards my customary place, where another parchment and a different quill await me. I take my position, picking up the feather with a sense of quiet relief. Different task, different focus. I can simply merge with my work, simply do my Duty by the Emperor and the world.
I lose myself in the intricacy of the Song, in the rhythm and poetry of creation. It's such a wonderful feeling, being absorbed and becoming one with the world, and on less complicated works I'm occasionally directed to sing and explore, riding the melodies and exploring the amazing vastness of existence. Cultures I've never encountered flash by me in thrilling lines of poetry, their languages a new and exotic song in my throat. Today, though, my attention is highly focused and my energy very carefully structured. I recognize the pattern of working as one of creation, of the birth of another Archo, specifically--
The Emperor's head whips around as I falter. I babble an apology as I fall to my knees, stunned by what I've just felt passing through me. A new Law? It cannot be anything but a new Law, and the tangle it creates in the Song stills my tongue. As the Emperor rushes to my side, I cannot stop the tears forming in my eyes.
"Easy, Li'sil." The Emperor cups my chin, tilting my face towards his. "There is more to him than that. Please, let's continue?" He helps me to my feet. "I should have prepared you better for this, shouldn't I? Here, take my hand. Let me show you the entirety of the work."
I lay my hand on the table, and he covers it with his own. I am comforted by the warm weight of it. I also try not to notice my own inner disquiet over not knowing the whole of my work before this point, or that I never noticed that there were portions... Those are questions for later. For now I must focus on this act of creation.
A new Law. I see now the void left by Arik's separation, as well as many, many other holes. It is like looking at a painting with many ragged holes cut into it.
"The others similar to your brother," the Emperor murmurs. My quill moves, drawing in and filling the void left by my brother. Imperfect, though -- this new being doesn't fill the void left behind, but rather spills into other places. I recognize some as friends, comrades, even the nexus where the Emperor Himself springs forth and branches into us all. It is alive, this tree, so completely alive and all-encompassing and strange.
I watch as new branches form, the leaves bursting forth and taking new shape, the old branches twisting and dying away, and I can now see other places on the tree, other areas I haven't even thought to touch and explore taking new shapes. The outlines form and shift, filling in as the world buds, blooms, and rots in rapid succession. Years twist, taking branches with them, and the entire tree aches as a new order takes shape. I groan at the sensation, and the Emperor's hand lifts from mine, taking with it the sensation of the world reordering itself. I feel a flash of anger at having it taken from me and immediately stamp it down. I have no need for that perspective anymore, and no right to it.
My vision is clouded. My eyes must have been wide open this entire time. The ache in my body tells me I've been motionless for a fairly long time, and as I blink the haze away from my eyes, I stretch and twist. My shoulders pop in the most satisfying way, and I yawn hard enough that my jaw aches.
Across the room, there's an answering yawn. I open my eyes and take my first look at this new Archo that has been birthed into this new and twisted world. He blinks back at me with the open curiosity of the newly-born, and scratches at his still-bare jaw. I smile, offering my hand to him. He takes it and stands up, and the cloth surrounding him unfurls and settles over his form, the strange new cuts and patterns a woven testament to the changed form of the Law.
"I am Liarchesilvrahnprochoros-theosil," I say, sketching a small bow. The Law frowns, then beams. "Ah! Then I am Nikhalomi'rihalepthet-theoni." He bows with a rather charming flourish, then straightens with crisp salute. He lowers his hand and holds it out to me, palm-up in an offer of friendship. I can't help but smile as I clasp his hand in mine. He smiles in return, then turns and grins happily at the Emperor. "Hello!"
The Emperor smiles in return. "Hello, Nikhaltheoni."
The new Archo blinks, the light in his eyes dimming. "Oh dear. I don't know if that will do at all."
I startle at this show of initiative, but the Emperor simply grins and tilts his head at the protest. "What name do you prefer, Gahalespbar-archo?" I dismiss the queasiness in my gut as something to be dealt with later and focus instead on the new Archo. He's frowning, turning his name over in his head, deciding which parts of it he'd like to hear most often.
"Mitheoni," he declares.
I choke back a laugh at his lofty choice of name, and the Emperor nods his head and grins. "Mitheoni it is."
As the Emperor finishes acquainting the new Law with his position, I find myself simultaneously trying to understand what I saw during Mitheoni's creation and trying not to think about it. I'm also avoiding thinking about the impact this all will have on my brother, but I'm not doing the best job of it.
There is something, though. I saw something in the vision of the tree for him, something the Emperor has planned. Just as I'm feeling for it, though, I feel it snatched away from my mind.
Not yet, the Emperor says. Now is not the time to dwell on this part.
I nod, knowing he'll see it even though his back is turned to me. At the same time, I can't resist trying to call up the information from within. Even that has been taken from me, and something inside burns at the loss of my own memory.
This time, I let it.
* * *
Anavar
* * *
I watch them mill around absently in the courtyards below after Ariktheoni makes his departure, a very confused Grace on his heels. The Archo are confused, talking amongst themselves, talking in whispers of the strange words coming out of the Judge's mouth, of his strange hollow eyes. There's no consensus among them.
Fools, all of them. Morons.
The Emperor will lose at least a quarter of them, if you can call it a loss. Yes, I see both sides of the issue quite clearly, but my loyalty stays with the Most High. Shedding them is the wisest thing to do, but if there's any truth I've learned in my long life in his service, it's that most of those dumb cattle in armor lowing in the grounds below simply lack the intelligence to make an informed decision. It's the gift of the Veil, really -- you don't have to worry about making mistakes harsh enough to call for your total destruction. Freedom is lethal, and I will have none of it. Bad enough that I am required to be able to contemplate it.
Yes, a good portion of those dumb brutes are going to rip off the Veil. Most of them will die for it, one way or another. I can't bring myself to feel sorry for them. They're being replaced with a better paradigm, and culling is always good for the herd.
I can't bear to watch them anymore. They're destroying the grass under their feet with their aimless shifting about. Surely they have something better to do than gossip like fishermen?
I decide to follow Ariktheoni instead. He's a loose cannon now, and bound to at least provide some entertainment. I feel the Emperor's approval and sigh. It means that not only is the High Judge bound to do something interesting, it's going to be enough to merit official attention. I suppose that makes sense, considering how important this period in time is.
That doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.
I appear far enough behind him to stay hidden, but close enough to observe. He's walking down the hall towards the Seat of the Law. Jerithea follows with less bounce than usual in her step. They pass through the threshold, and I wait outside, keeping a mental eye on their progress.
Utterly dull. They're making coffee and small talk, and Elatheoni joins them and diplomatically says nothing of the babble that passed as the High Judge's speech. Honestly, I'm rather surprised at the lack of mention. Elatheoni is a gentle soul, but he is also very devoted, quick to point out any devi--
I'm through the threshold and catching Ariktheoni before I fully realize what has happened. I lay him on the ground, a gentler repose than he was headed for. Jerithea and Elatheoni don't seem to have even noticed my entrance, so caught up are they in the birth of the new Law. They are frozen in rapt attention.
Really, it seems like a bit much. Anyone with half a brain would have seen this coming. I sigh, ignoring the glowing pair of living statues, and focus on Ariktheoni. He's shivering and grey, and deathly cold to the touch.
I turn his head towards mine. His eyes lock onto mine -- a good sign; he's still in there. "Ariktheoni. Pay attention."
The black centers of his eyes have near swallowed the gold, but he jerks his head in acknowledgement.
"You can define yourself, Arik'tighesinnodai-theoni. The last string has been cut, and you are now free to choose." I stare into the darkness, and am surprised to find myself willing him to make the right choice. "Do you choose the Void, or will you keep living?"
"What have I to live for?" His words are barely more than escaping breath.
I scowl at his melodrama. Is it so much to ask for someone to just make a rational decision without making it all messy with histrionics? "Like I know, boy. Your options are roll over and die, or stand up and carve a place for yourself in this world like every other free being cursed with the ability to be stupid." I resist the urge to knock his head against the tile a few times for good measure. Beating sense into him never worked in the past; I strongly doubt attempting to do so now would yield different results. "The fact that you've been given a choice means that there's potentially work for you to do." My left eye mists, and I can glimpse part of the Emperor's plan. Far be it from me to declare any plan of the Emperor's ill-conceived, but this one is getting perilously close. It's certainly pointless to ask what the Emperor is thinking. I suspect he's playing things by ear only a little less than the rest of us are. I also suspect that this world is an elaborate joke on me, but that could be the right eye talking.
There's a small thud, and Ariktheoni grunts. Oh, I've gone and dropped his head onto the floor. Pity. At least he's no longer shivering. I snort, then kick his leg.
"Get up. You've obviously decided to live. Best get on with it."
He sits up, a couple small shudders chasing about his shoulders as he rubs the back of his head. "How?"
I contemplate killing him, but decide that would be a bad start and would probably irritate the Emperor. I do think about it, though, with no small amount of pleasure. Instead of choking him, I deliver one more solid kick to his ass. "By not pissing me off," I grumble, then pop off to find a place to unwind. I've done my part. The rest is up to him. Stomping about my quarters doesn't ease all the tension I've built up over this fiasco, but it helps.
Things would be so much easier if they would just think a little.
* * *
Arik
* * *
I can't think. The noise of my own thoughts is overwhelming, and I can't begin to make sense of them. I suppose... I don't know. I can't think. It's too much.
The empty space in my head... what is that?
Just who am I now?
you're a fool. worse than a fool. The voice is distant, disdainful. you are a brain-sick puppy without sense enough to stop wallowing in his own filth. go explore, you dumb dog.
I scowl. Who are you? How dare you speak to me that way?
Whatever it is, I have its attention now. I feel it regard me, and feel something that just might be a grin. Not a pleasant one by any means. I understand how a rabbit feels, staring up at a wolf. Like a rabbit, I do the only sensible thing I can think of. I run.
No matter how hard or fast I run, it gains on me.
