Shireroth

Things had been comparatively quiet in the Kaiser's court of late. The Second Council on Gralus had finished and people had returned to their homes or preparations. News was that the Nelagan Hope had made the jump into Gralus yesterday. No word had come on the Kaiser's attempt into hell yet, and with trouble brewing on the borders of old Goldshire, perhaps he would never leave. But there was one person who was very concerned that the Kaiser leave, and soon. It was someone who hadn't been at the Second Council because he'd had more important things on. But now those things were finished, and he had to tell the Kaiser ... now.

Cla'Udi, the venerable Melangian, acting-Baron of Atterock in the continued absence of Andreas the Wise, rumoured to be the leader of the Time Revisionists, and, of course, a bit slow on his feet now he was pushing 70, tried to hurry up the steps into the Kaiser's Court. But before he was even up two of them, the guards at the top had come down.
"Where do you think you're going?" one asked him, with a sneer. Cla'Udi sighed as he looked at the guard's rank, and realised it was someone employed by the MoMA. The Khan had a habit of employing a certain type of gentleman as a guard ... and these gentleman tended to be unimpressed by spirited explanations of why the world would be in danger if someone wasn't let through immediately, and much more responsive to gold. Unfortunately, Cla'Udi had nothing on him, having spent it all on taxi fares from Shirekeep to the beach and back in between now and the First Council. Why did the capital have to be so far from the ocean?

"I seek an audience with the Kaiser, on a matter of some divine urgency," Cla'Udi said.
"The Kaiser's busy," the first guard said.
"The Kaiser's always busy," his partner added.
"It's precisely because he's busy that I need to see him, to give him something for his mission," Cla'Udi said.
"Mission?" the guard asked. "What's this about a mission."
"Historically unverify it," Cla'Udi cursed to himself. He'd forgotten that people outside the Council wouldn't know what was going on. He decided to try for pulling rank.
"Sorry, its on a need to know basis. If the Kaiser hasn't entrusted you with that information, it's not my place to tell you. Just let me through to see him."
It would have worked if he were a 10 foot Chelkran. But as an old, 5 foot Melangian, the guards weren't impressed.
"He thinks we're not important enough," the guard said to his companion.
"La dee dah," said his companion. "My wife thinks she can sing, but it doesn't mean she can."
Cla'Udi could see he was rapidly losing control of the situation. If only he'd had more time to prepare ...

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he saw himself walking up the steps, behind the guards. He'd just have to distract them for a moment longer while he slipped through; then go into an alleyway and travel back in time a few minutes to come through now. Cla'Udi decided for something that would attract the guards full attention. He flashed the ring he wore, which identified him as a servant of Sakat. "I hadn't realised the capital had become so apostate, that guards would stop a messenger of the gods trying to talk to the Kaiser."
It had the desired effect. "Mate, there are so many gods out there these days, every man and his dog could be a priest for all I care," said the first guard. "We're not letting you through this door."
Cla'Udi chanced another glance up. He'd got in and closed the door quietly behind him.
"Well then, I shall bid you good day, gentleman," Cla'Udi said. "I shall have to tell Sakat to record in the history books that his servant failed because the Kaiser's guards wouldn't let him in. Can I just have your names and ages for recording purposes?" He smiled sweetly, but the guards just glared at him. This was the capital. People took slight notice of old priests getting beaten up, and it was hard to hide the body while on duty. Cla'Udi decided not to tempt fate further, and left.

Five minutes later (in personal time), he was walking past the guards while they were busy talking to him, conveniently down on the third step and far away from the door. He hurried past them, closed the door quietly behind them, and then made his way down the corridor. The marvellous thing about the Imperial Palace, like most large institutions, was that after you made it past the door demons, people assumed you were meant to be inside, and were happy to give directions. Even more conveniently, one of the aides recognised Cla'Udi from the first council, and was willing to bring him to the Kaiser.

The Kaiser looked up from his desk as Cla'Udi entered. The Kaiser carefully turned over the papers he'd been looking at, and looked at Cla'Udi. "It's Cla'Udi, isn't it?" he asked. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure."
"I have been asked to deliver this to you," Cla'Udi said, handing over a scroll bound with a piece of string. "It's not for you," he added quickly, as the Kaiser was about to open it. "It is for Andreas the Wise, and Andreas the Wise only. Sakat requests that you deliver it."
"What is it?" the Kaiser asked.
"A message from him, your niftiness. I have not looked inside, so I do not know what it contains. But I would guess ... I would guess it concerns the Lost Prophecy."
"Interesting," the Kaiser said, pocketing the scroll to deliver later. "I would have thought the pertinent feature of the Lost Prophecy was that it was lost?"
"Only to us," Cla'Udi said. "Once, it was written down, before it was destroyed. Though history does not record what it says, it was once written down, for anyone to read who was there at the time ..."
The Kaiser nodded his understanding. "Well, give my thanks to Sakat then," he said. Cla'Udi nodded, and left. Now, he should finally be able to return to Melangia ...

But, it seemed, History had other ideas in store for him. Looking back in later times, he would wish that he had taken the time to check the Book of History before he had left for the first Council; it might well have made the decisions he would now make easier to bear. But he had not, and so he was flying solo, as it were. A strange place for an experienced melangian. But one Cla'Udi would soon get used to.

It was the next day. Before Cla'Udi had entered the morning train back to the coast, from which he would take a boat back to Sakatra, he had seen the early morning news, and, more importantly, the early morning Imperial Announcement. Kaiser Gaelen III had abdicated, citing burnout and feeling he could not properly lead the people "in these difficult times." Most people were worried that he'd abdicated in favour of a Khan. But Cla'Udi was now worried that Sakat's message might never be delivered; that the journey to Hell might never take place. It had seemed like a perfect note for the book of history - a Kaiser venturing into Hell to lead his people to save the world. But now he looked at it, he realised his mistake. That was a perfect story. History had real people. People who got burnt out. But luckily, History also had people who quietly picked up the reins when the leaders got burnt out. Cla'Udi intended to be that sort of person.

It was comparitively easy to get into the palace. So many people were trying to get in to see the Khan, that when Cla'Udi said he wasn't here to see the Khan, he just got waved through. He hurried along the corridors he remembered from yesterday, until he reached the office in which he had once spoken to the Kaiser. He didn't wait to knock, but opened the door and went straight in. To his delight, Gaelen was there, packing things into boxes. He looked up as Cla'Udi entered, said, "Oh, it's you," and turned back to look at the photo he was holding. It bore an image of him at the first Council, surrounded by excited and worried delegates. He sighed, and chucked it in the bin - Gaelen's box was already overful. Cla'Udi waited, but when it became clear Gaelen was not going to speak to him, he began.

"I have been informed that you abdicated," Cla'Udi began.
"You have heard correctly," Gaelen said, turning to face Cla'Udi, with a tired look in his eyes. "I had such dreams ... but it all became too much. The Ohl'Tar, Gralus, then Elwynn-Brookshire, then Goldshire ... I felt the people of Shireroth deserved better, to lead them through this."
"And so you gave them the Khan?"
"He is a strong, military man. He will be able to deal with the various conflicts of Shireroth," Gaelen replied.
"But will he travel into Hell to save Gralus?" Cla'Udi asked.
"No," Gaelen said softly, almost regretfully.
"And will you?"

"No," Gaelen said again. "I ... it was too much."
"So you will leave the people of Gralus to whatever fate they are caught in, despite your promises and grand plans for help?" It was phrased as a question, but it sounded like an admonishment.
"I made sure the Nelagan Hope got in," Gaelen replied. "They have more help than they expected."
"You gave them an elite strike team," Cla'Udi corrected. "Unfortunately, they already are an elite strike team. They don't really need another one. But if I know my Count, what he needs right now is an army; an army nobody else expects him to have. You were going to lead that army."
"Not any more," Gaelen replied, refusing to be chastised. "Even if I ... regretted my decision, I cannot reverse it. Without the Sword of Vengeance, I cannot break the bonds that hold us to this world. And since I am no longer Kaiser, I cannot wield the Sword. So the journey to Hell cannot even begin."
"Well then, your ex-Niftiness," Cla'Udi said, emphasising the 'ex', "I shall require the return of my message."
"Message?" Gaelen said, a little surprised.
"The message I gave you yesterday, from Sakat, for Andreas the Wise," Cla'Udi said.
"What good will that do?" Gaelen asked. "There is no one to deliver it anymore."
"The followers of Sakat do not give up so easily on their high priest," Cla'Udi replied. "If you cannot deliver it, I shall do so myself."
"You?" Gaelen said, raising his eyebrows and chuckling. "You're what, a seventy year old Melangian? How do you hope to get into Hell and make it out the other side."
"I'm a historian," Cla'Udi corrected. "We have our ways."
"If you're planning on stealing the Sword of Vengeance ..." Gaelen began, but Cla'Udi stopped him.
"I have no intention on getting on the bad side of the new Kaiser," Cla'Udi replied. Gaelen fell silent. Melangians were famous Shireroth over for their quiet, calmness, and being polite to a fault. Cla'Udi was verging on ... sass. He must really be seething inside.
"The message, your ex-niftiness?" Cla'Udi said, holding out his hand.

Just a day earlier, on a small ship just off the coast of the isle of Benacia.

"I don't think I have to tell you exactly how much I gave up for this." Deep wrinkles were cast across the old Ly'Technomaezj's face, and not just from age and the worries of Kaisership.

Next to him, the deathless woman Maria Morimoto seemed younger and smiled more mischievously than ever, speaking with a giggle in her voice. "Oh, never mind the fate of two nations, you actually stepped down from the throne of Shireroth. Now that's got to have hurt."

Gaelen kept his composure - just barely. "The instructions given to me were quite clear."

"Oh yeah, the instructions. You know, just in the plainly rational and detached sense, I wouldn't care much for them if it hadn't been for Ari i's little tricks with my brain. But hey, what a guy, he at least did one good thing as Kaiser."

"I didn't come here to discuss historical trivia. Do you know where I was yesterday? Blavatsky. It's ready. Everybody's there. The Piscatores - those they could send, from among those who were still alive - are there. The Angel Guardian has been spending weeks just meditating and teaching religion, and you can't believe how much he hates to be away from the Russels. We would have set off within the week--"

"-- And I dragged you away! Isn't it wonderful?"

"... and you dragged me away."

"I can't believe you'd listen to a dead Technomagi after not listening to the Gods, but I guess it's by listening to each other that you got yourself all killed in the first place."

"It is an insane time that I have been forced to live in. One where I am surrounded by insane people, all of my time. Even the knowledge of the Technomagi never cured the human mind of its greatest weaknesses, of impressionability and peer pressure. The reasons for the supremacy of the instructions are obvious."

"And you never stopped to think that maybe the Technomagi were even more insane? Aactually, forget that. You're here. I pointed out a sentence in a piece of paper that said something vague about nations that are to be considered enemies, and you didn't just call off your plans, you called off the whole Kaisership. How about that?"

The old man's voice cracked, but he managed to speak through it, intoning a sentence he'd read many and many times over: "By sacrificing not only the safety of Shireroth but that of my own, for the sake of a nation or party that has widely accepted and made significant use of magical techniques and has recently been active in magical research, I have demonstrated my inability to lead the nation of Shireroth as Kaiser and must immediately step down."

"There", Maria smiled, "that wasn't that hard, was it?"

"Millions of people, trapped! Can you imagine the untold human suffering our intervention could spare? Not to mention the things about the world, the structure of the Hells that we could have... learned..."

"Oh, Gaelen. Maybe if you had a couple more hundred years under your belt you'd have more of an idea of what you want from the universe. Your combination of Technomagi hubris and humanist morals isn't just transparent, it's so very childish."

"This age has corrupted me. It doesn't matter anymore what I want."

"Now that's what I wanted to hear."

For a few moments, there was silence.

"I... thank you for showing me what I was doing. I was... wrong. Doing the wrong thing. No Technomaezj can be allowed to ally with a nation of magic. I will not forget that anymore."

A few raindrops fell on the ship's deck.

"I still have a lot of years left in me. Not as many as you, but I believe I am still a resource worth using."

Maria smiled, and not just inwardly, at the use of the word "resource". "You want another try at the helm?"

"There aren't many of us left. There might be a future situation where I turn out to be the right person in the right place... at the right time... Even if that were to happen thousands of years hence. Even if it were to happen after all the rest of us are dead."

"Come back in a few days, then. The cryopreservation machinery mightn't be in the best shape anymore, but my boys will fix it up to handle you just fine by then."

A human is just a machine. Just a machine. Just a machine. It can be corrupted, it can break. And still...

One more thing he could do. One more act of defiance, such a small thing - to help this man.

The message felt heavy in his pocket. He could take it, and there would be no way even the Gralans could find him and the message, frozen for untold millennia under the seas. He could give it to this man, and by however little, the Gralans - magicians! Elementalists! The Gralans would benefit.

The law of the universe. The human spirit.

Maybe the broken machine is the one doing the right things.

Gaelen took the scroll and handed it to Cla'Udi.

"Thankyou," Cla'Udi said. "You will go down in history as the man who was not too arrogant to let another try." Then he left, hurrying off towards the temple district. Now he had the message, anything was possible. But first, a short phonecall might be in order ...