Authors: Stuart Meczes
“I have been the watchful eye of this city for almost a century. Did you really think that I wouldn’t recognise the markings of the famous boy who defeated The Sorrow?”
Gabriella raised both hands in a mock surrender. “Fine, we acquiesce. It was us. Neither of us meant to cause a problem, but that does not justify the fact that your men
shot
at us!”
“They shot at you because you ignored their initial request to stop.”
“So instead of accosting people and questioning them, their knee-jerk reaction is to execute them for a split-second of non compliance?” I barked. “A bit extreme, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think so at all. This city is constantly at risk from threat, both from within and without. I would rather have to justify the deaths of two innocents than have to justify the deaths of thousands if the intruders were terrorists about to do something terrible.”
A long silence fell over the room. We all looked to one another, waiting to see who spoke first.
He…kind of has a point,
I conceded.
It was Gabriella who broke the silence, pushing the unit away from us. “Since we’re speaking candidly, maybe we should broach the next subject. Namely the atrocities occurring inside the Partition.” She gestured to herself and then me. “Atrocities we have both witnessed firsthand.”
It was Aegis’s turn to look shocked. It was an almost imperceptible expression – a slight widening of his eyes and tightening of his grip on his chalice, but it gave him away.
He didn’t know that.
“The Partition is off-limits. It is a level-five crime for non-wardens to enter that area, accountable to high treason.” His voice was one of deep authority, meant to intimidate.
Gabriella gave a shrug. “So arrest us. But know that Sage Faru will bring the full weight of the Alliance down on you once he discovers what happened. I’m sure our superiors would be very interested in the nasty little secrets you’re trying to hide here.” Her voice matched his in its power – trying to intimidate Gabriella was pointless.
Aegis shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Setting aside that crime for one moment, I suppose I can assume that the three Lightwardens currently hospitalized in the Convalescence Centre was your doing?”
“Yes.”
Aegis stiffened. “I specifically asked you to promise me two things for your stay in this city. To not leave without permission and to refrain from causing trouble. Three hours later you have already broken the latter request multiple times.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “Can I ask why you felt the need to break forty-three of their collective bones?”
“Of course,” said Gabriella, straightening up herself. “It was their reward for beating a child.”
Aegis looked disarmed for a moment. He blinked several times in succession before he spoke. “I was not aware of any beatings.”
I set down my own mug, which made a loud thump on the table. “We stopped them from beating him to within an inch of his life. Just for being a few minutes late to your messed-up sparring sessions. Because he was
starving
.”
Aegis glanced at the Lightwardens around the table, an expression of mixed anger and surprise on his face. He raised a placating hand. “I can assure you, I was not aware of this, and I certainly would not condone it. Those who committed this act will be dealt with severely.”
My ass they will.
“So tell me, Highwarden. Is it just the desperate Pandemonians who come knocking on your door for refuge that you trick into becoming your slaves, while stealing their children to staff your army, or do you actively send out your Lightwarden drones to capture them as well?”
Whoa.
In an instant Gabriella’s words thickened the already tense atmosphere of the room like flour dumped in cold water. Everyone was silent and frozen in place, staring up at her and Aegis – Troy with his fork still poised near his mouth.
Looks like we’re well into no-holds-barred territory now.
Aegis smoothed a hand along the surface of the table, wiping away something that wasn’t there. “War is an expensive commodity, Huntmaster, and this war has been fought for as long as anyone can remember. With almost all of our supply lines cut, and refugees coming here to escape the war, Fenodara is in serious economic trouble. We simply cannot afford to feed and shelter everyone in the traditional sense. So long ago, the idea of the Partition was created. An area where those who could not contribute to the city were placed. The Displaced might not be comfortable, Huntmaster, but they are safe. It was either that or turn them away, and they would likely have died outside the walls of this city. At least this way they can continue to live and support Fenodara. And their work is necessary for our survival. They are important members of this society.”
“The word you’re looking for is slaves.”
“Not slaves. Supporters,” he replied.
“Are they free to collect their children and leave?”
“Well, no…”
“Then your supporters are slaves.”
“We allow them to survive,” he argued.
“Exactly,
survive
. Not live.”
“In war, there is only survival.”
Danny piped up, gesturing at the opulence around us. “Not from where I’m sitting, Highwarden. Seems like those with the power are
living
just fine.”
Aegis picked up his chalice and took a sip. I could see a hint of a tremor in his hand. Clearly he didn’t enjoy having his skewed opinions dismantled in front of him. “Our ration system ensures that everyone has something to eat,” he explained, setting his drink back down on the table.
I raised a finger. “Now that’s not
quite
true, is it, Highwarden? Your ration system is designed to favour some above others. One of your Citizens was about to be carted off by your men until I paid for her.”
Aegis cleared his throat. “Admittedly, we do have a structure within the rationing program.”
Gabriella set her fork down. “So let me get this straight – it’s a ration system, which by its very nature is designed to ensure that everyone has what they need and no more. However,
your
ration system gives more to some than others? That isn’t rationing, it’s economic partisanship. Hardly seems fair.”
“War is not fair, Miss De Luca. It is the greatest creator of disparities there is.”
“No, oppression from the ruling classes is the greatest creator of disparity, Highwarden. A mindset it seems that you are quite familiar with in this city,” Gabriella replied.
Aegis clenched his jaw and looked down at his chalice, tapping a ring against one of the jewels.
He didn’t like that.
“So, assuming we accept that a servile underclass is necessary for the city – and I’m not saying that we do – why not treat those outside the Partition the same as each other? I asked.
“Simple. Those who have more wealth have more connections and thus more power. They can call on favours to aid us with military support or resources when facing particularly tough times. It is that support that allows us to keep fighting.”
“So it’s a you-scratch-our-back, we-scratch-yours situation then,” said Scarlett, taking a sip of blood and then setting her spoon back in the bowl.
“A somewhat reductive statement, Miss Reid, but a correct one. The city is almost out of money and resources. As much as it disgusts me to do it, it is a necessity to treat those with stronger connections better than those with less to offer, lest they relinquish their support. And those who have nothing left to offer the city financially only have value through their work capabilities.”
“And those who can’t give you either?”
“They are useless.”
“They are
people.”
“Yes, but they are still useless. However, we don’t cart them out. They live poorly…or they survive, as you put it. But they do survive.” The Highwarden leaned forward. “You know little of this world, Guardians, only what you read in your books or hear about from those that abandoned this world long ago. So allow me to be direct and explain in a way that might make you
see
. It is estimated that millennia ago – before the Ageless war broke out – there were roughly around four billion sentient lifeforms in Pandemonia. Currently, there are only about eighty million of all three classes, scattered all over the planet and fighting to stay alive. That is less than the combined total of
two
of your most populated countries.” He clasped his hands together. “Now of those numbers, around fifty million are Umbra. Doesn’t leave a whole lot does it? The Luminar and Fera species are
dying,
Guardians. We are being systematically wiped out by our enemies and the Fera are being caught in the crossfire. If we don’t do
everything
that we can to survive, we won’t last more than another decade at best.”
The Highwarden’s words took the rug from under my feet.
Ninety-eight percent of the world’s population is dead because of this war.
The number was simply staggering. I’d always known it was bad, but I’d never realised just
how
bad.
We’re looking at the potential end of all life – the sort of war that everyone fears deep in their hearts.
“I understand that you do not condone what is happening here, and I realize how awful it looks. But you must understand that Fenodara is one of the last bastilles of Luminar life left standing. We are the beacon of hope for all of our displaced kin out there. If the light of this city goes out, then the will to fight will be snuffed out along with it. We cannot allow that to happen, therefore we cannot allow Fenodara to fall. And to keep it standing, we must do what is necessary.”
“Like forcing the children of the less fortunate to study combat and then turfing them back out to fight the very war they were trying to escape?” Gabriella said, speaking through her teeth.
Aegis slammed his hand down on the table. “We do not
turf
them out!” He jabbed a finger at Gabriella. “Make no mistake about that, Huntmaster. These
children
, as you refer to them, are trained from an early age until fighting is as natural to them as breathing. We use Fae magic to simulate the harsh conditions of the corrupted areas of Pandemonia – where the chance for survival is slim at best. They become hardened and resilient to it. In addition, they are taught not to fear war but rather to embrace it, to enter a mental state where it nourishes them. Only when their physical and mental abilities have been pushed beyond the boundaries of what they ever thought possible, only
then
do we send them to the front line. To meet them on the battlefield would be akin to challenging death to a duel.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you are taking their lives away from them, removing their choice. Forcing them to become soldiers for your war. They are children!”
“Perhaps. But tell me, is that really so different to your Alliance? Taking those who are confused, scared and often alone and crafting them into fighting machines to fight a war they didn’t start?” He gestured towards Gabriella. “How old were you when you joined the Alliance? Fourteen, fifteen?”
Gabriella didn’t answer…her situation was pretty unique and also not widely known. Luckily Aegis’s question was rhetorical. He continued. “Many of the Chosen were barely teenagers when they had their Awakenings, but that made no difference to the Alliance. They still took them in and trained them up, to fight in a war that they didn’t choose. Are you so blind that you cannot see the blatant similarities?” He picked up his chalice and paused at his lips. “Before you are so swift to judge our actions, perhaps you should take a long, hard look at your own camp first.”
“We were given a choice,” I said.
Aegis gave a condescending chuckle. “Were you really, Guardian Eden? Or were you just given the illusion of a choice?”
I fell silent. Aegis was a hard man to argue with. He seemed to have an answer for everything. His words pricked at the corners of my mind.
Is he right?
I’d always been told I could leave the Alliance, but I’d also been told that I would always be a target, that Pandemonians would find me no matter what I did or where I went, that I was better off where I was.
Could I have ever been anything other than a Chosen? It doesn’t feel that way. But then again, this was what I wanted…wasn’t it?
“What we do here weighs heavily on my soul,” said Aegis. “But put bluntly, it is simply the politics of war, I’m afraid.”
Nice.
Just when I was starting to see things from his point of view, he swiftly put himself back into asshole territory.
Gabriella held his gaze. “The policy of corruption, you mean.”
The Highwarden took a long sip of his drink and set the chalice back down on the table. “Call it what you will, Huntmaster De Luca, it is still an unfortunate necessity. One which I was forced to come to terms with long ago.”
“Do you actually believe any of the shit you’re spouting?” growled Troy; his hand was so tight on the carving knife he was holding that his knuckles had turned white.
“Careful, Guardian,” warned Aegis. “You would do well to remember where you are.”