Chapter 90 — The Union of the Central Continent
— Why were you worried?
The question came out with that genuinely confused quality of Kuto's — not feigned, not rhetorical. The group assembled in the royal chamber represented to him information that didn't match any pattern he had learned to expect. Worry required emotional investment. Emotional investment required that the object of the worry mattered in ways Kuto had learned not to attribute to things he considered temporary.
— Since you left — said Jack, with that leader's voice that chooses words carefully because it knows carefully chosen words land differently — Raimi hasn't had a moment's peace. When it reached the point where she could no longer stay still, she asked Haru to go.
Kuto turned his gaze to Haru.
— So it makes sense that you came after me.
— Even without her asking I would have gone anyway — said Haru, with that quickness of someone who had the answer ready before the sentence finished.
Kuto didn't respond to that. There were certain statements that were more efficient not to address directly.
— You found out everything?
— Behind this.
Sônia's voice had that quality of a person who is genuinely pleased with what she has to show. She extended her hand. In her palm, a small object — a spherical crystal the size of a closed fist, with that translucency of something that is neither completely solid nor completely empty.
Kuto looked at it.
— What is that?
— Image capture lens. — Sônia turned the crystal between her fingers with that gesture of someone who has developed enough familiarity with an object to handle it casually. — The first version only recorded. Then you had to bring the lens to a specific magic panel to replay what it had captured.
— This version transmits live — said Selina, from the side, with that tone of someone completing information in a way that communicates they have already processed the implications. — While the user has the lens active, anyone with a compatible receiver sees it in real time.
Kuto was silent for a moment.
— That exists here?
— It does — said Raimi.
Her voice came from where she had been since they had entered the room — not from the centre, but from the lateral angle of someone who had observed the entire sequence attentively but without needing to be at the centre of it. The smile was different from the smile of when she had run to embrace him. Quieter. More informed.
— I imagine something similar must exist in your world?
Kuto looked at her.
*Your world* landed with that specific quality of a phrase that contains more than it appears to contain. Not *your world* — *your world*. Plural. As though the distinction between the place they had come from and the place where they were was something known rather than something suspected.
— What? — said Kuto.
Raimi smiled.
Not with malice — with that specific quality of smile of a person who had waited for the right moment to say something she had known for a long time.
On the other side of the room, Jack and Selina and Sônia exchanged a quick look among themselves.
— We told Raimi everything — said Selina, with that voice of someone anticipating an objection and not apologising for it. — The whole truth.
Kuto turned to her.
— When?
— In the days you were in Zef. — Jack answered before Selina could. — We decided it was more right than continuing.
*Collective decision.* Made without consulting him. About information he considered critical to keep separate from the world where they were.
Kuto breathed slowly.
— Raimi — he said, turning to her. The voice was controlled but the control was visible in a way it rarely was with Kuto. — The system—
— The system did nothing — she said. With that specific calm of a queen who had learned that calm was frequently the most effective tool available. — I suspect because it wasn't trying to harm any mechanic of the story. Only being honest with someone who already suspected.
— You suspected?
— From the beginning your nationalities didn't correspond to any kingdom in Velerithon — she said, simply. — Accents that didn't fit. References to things that don't exist here. Behaviours that have no parallel in any culture of the central continent.
Pause.
— I don't know much about other worlds. It isn't a subject I've studied. But I know enough about my own to recognise when someone isn't completely from it.
Kuto was silent.
*NPCs.* The thought arrived with less conviction than the other times.
*Programmed to act as the story wants.*
Raimi continued to look at him with that expression of a person who had said what she had to say and who was waiting, without hurry, for whatever response the other person needed to give.
— Where you came from doesn't matter — she said finally. — You are part of this family. That is what matters.
---
Her expression changed. It became more serious with that specific quality of a queen's shift in tone that distinguishes personal matter from matter of state.
— Through the lens's images I saw that you brought Zef's population.
— I did.
— And I imagine you've already seen how the city received that.
— I have.
Raimi was silent for a moment. Then:
— My parents were killed twelve years ago. Zenk was eleven.
The voice had that quality of a story that has been told enough times to have lost the acute emotional urgency but that has never lost its weight.
— The king of Killvis wanted Zordis. Not to destroy it — to control it. There are resources here that no other kingdom has. The agreement was simple: ten families from Zordis who were not satisfied with my father's governance provided the information necessary for the ambush. Location. Schedule. Size of the escort. Enough for Killvis to know exactly how to kill them both and make the deaths appear to be a travel accident.
The room was completely silent.
— When Zenk arrived at what remained and understood what had happened — Raimi continued — he was eleven years old and the only things left to him were the power he had and the certainty of who was responsible. He identified all ten families. He executed the leaders — the man and woman at the head of each one. He expelled all the others to Zef.
Pause.
— Including the children. Including the slaves of the families who hadn't even chosen to be there. Including people who had done nothing beyond existing in the same house as those who had betrayed.
Kuto heard that.
Kini's face returned with that clarity that continued to refuse to be filed away. *Those people don't like us.*
— You did nothing wrong by bringing them — said Raimi. — You did what I and Zenk have been postponing for years because it is politically complicated and because there are people in Zordis who will never be satisfied with that decision regardless of when it happens.
She stood.
— But it needs to happen. Because as Zenk says — a new era will come for Zordis. And that era cannot begin upon harboured resentment. It cannot begin upon a people tormented within the kingdom's own borders waiting for the day the accumulated hatred turns against us.
She looked at Kuto directly.
— I will receive Zef's inhabitants personally. Speak with the people. That takes time and it will not be simple, but it is what must happen.
She walked toward the door.
She stopped.
— The rest of the royal work stays with you for now.
And she left.
---
The silence that remained had that quality of silence after an important person leaves a room — not empty, but present with the weight of whoever had just been there.
Kuto was motionless for a moment.
Then he looked at the group.
— Do you still believe this is a game?
The question didn't carry the tone it had most other times. It was less declaration, more something that came out before it could be completely controlled.
Selina looked at him with that directness that was her specific form of affection.
— Absolutely. — Without hesitation. — And if this were a game, the system would have corrupted Raimi for knowing what she knows. It didn't.
— I won't insist that you see the obvious.
— Obvious to whom — said Selina.
Kuto didn't respond.
— I'm going to rest.
The group's expression changed with that synchronisation groups develop when they know the person in front of them well enough to have a collective reaction without needing to coordinate.
The smiles appeared.
Kuto stopped.
— What?
— Your Majesty!
Anseff's voice came from the corridor with that specific urgency of a lackey bringing information he considers urgent and who is therefore walking faster than usual but not quite running because running in a palace had connotations he preferred to avoid.
Kuto looked at the ceiling for a second.
— What now?
Anseff entered. He was breathing slightly faster than normal.
— My lord, we need to prepare Your Majesty for the Festival of Magic and Science.
— Why me?
— It is Your Majesty who habitually oversees the preparations. Her Highness Raimi has just departed and will take some time to return, and the event begins tomorrow.
Kuto was silent for long enough that it was clearly deliberation and not merely a pause.
Then:
— Fine. Talk.
Anseff straightened with that posture of a person who has received authorisation to do something he has wanted to do for some time.
— Before we begin — said Sônia, with that tone of someone who is about to be helpful in a way that is also provocative — I should say that Zordis has a fascinating culture around magic and science together. You only have to look at the city to—
— Only noticed now? — said Romeu, turning to Kuto with that quality of friendly provocation that Romeu exercised with the ease of something that required practically no conscious effort. — You spend all your time in the palace.
— Hey — said Jack, standing — I have to go train a section of soldiers. — He glanced briefly at Kuto. — Good luck with the preparations.
— I also have things to do — said Selina, and the smile as she left had that quality of a person who is genuinely pleased with the situation she is leaving behind. — Happy preparations, king.
One by one, with that choreographed precision of a group that had found a perfectly plausible collective exit, they left.
Kuto was left with Anseff.
Who had the expression of someone who was completely oblivious to what had just happened, or who was professional enough to pretend he was.
— Talk — said Kuto.
---
What Anseff knew about the Festival of Magic and Science was considerable, organised, and delivered with the efficiency of a person who had explained the same subject enough times to know exactly how much information he could convey in how much time.
The festival involved all the kingdoms of the central continent. Nellis, Thornvale, Maldrath, Adventus, Azumi, Autolara, Zordis — as host — and Killvis.
— Even Killvis? — said Kuto.
— The king does not attend personally — said Anseff. — He sends a designated representative and his prodigy of that cycle. It is established protocol from years ago. Participation is kept separate from the politics between the kingdoms — the UCC guaranteed that contractually.
— What is the UCC?
— The Union of the Central Continent. — Anseff said this with that quality of a person who had expected the question and who therefore had the answer calibrated for the right moment. — Founded by Lord Zenk when he was sixteen. The central agreement: in all kingdoms, academies of magic and science would be built with shared funding, and the most significant discoveries would be shared with all members.
Pause.
— The main laws of the central continent are approved through the UCC and verified by the Council of Ellis — the capital of Nellis. It isn't perfect. There are disputes. There are kingdoms that comply less than they should. But it is what exists, and it works well enough that it has existed for thirteen years.
Kuto was listening with that specific attention he applied to information he considered potentially useful.
*Zenk at sixteen. The same Zenk that Pendris feared. The same Zenk who had raised mountains at eleven.*
*Who is this man, really.*
— The festival — Anseff continued — consists of a public presentation of the best inventions from each participating prodigy. The top three are selected by a panel of evaluators from all member kingdoms. The three selected receive a place at the Academy of Nadirah.
— Nadirah?
— The most prestigious magic university of both continents. — Anseff said this with that specific reverence of a person for whom the name carried real weight. — Probably of all Velerithon. The remaining participants — those not among the three selected — study here, at the AZ.
— Academy of Zordis?
— University of Zordis and Academy of Zordis. AZ. — Anseff made the minimal gesture of someone correcting without wanting to appear to be correcting. — The second most prestigious on the continent.
Kuto processed.
— They come accompanied by representatives of the kingdoms?
— Yes. Royal families from each kingdom. — A significant pause. — With the exception of Killvis in recent years, and Maldrath.
*Maldrath.* The name arrived with that quality of something that wasn't completely new but that in this context carried a different dimension.
*Steve is in Maldrath.*
*In a cage.*
— What is Zordis's role as host?
— Logistical oversight of the presentations. Ensuring the evaluation panel has adequate conditions. Receiving the delegates of all the kingdoms. — Anseff hesitated for a second. — And demonstrating that Zordis remains worthy of the host role. Which is habitually done through Zordis's prodigy of that cycle.
— Who is that?
— A fifteen-year-old girl. — Anseff said this with that quality of someone who is genuinely impressed but who has been trained not to let that impressment be too visible in a professional context. — Her name is Ira. She works in synthesis between healing magic and construction mechanics. Lord Zenk believes her work could change how both continents approach medicine.
— Zenk knows about this? About Nadirah?
— Lord Zenk founded Nadirah. — Anseff said this with the naturalness of a person for whom this fact was so established that its novelty to the interlocutor was the true surprise. — When he was twenty-one.
Kuto was silent.
*Five years building the UCC, Nadirah, the AZ, the seven swords of the continent, the magical infrastructure of Zordis, and the peace stable enough for an annual festival between hostile kingdoms to have taken place for thirteen consecutive years.*
*Zenk who was eleven when Raimi's parents died.*
*Who raised mountains with that trauma beneath everything he built afterward.*
— The seven swords — said Kuto.
— Yes.
— Zenk made all seven?
— For the Church of Nellis. — Anseff nodded. — Sword of Thunder, of Water, of Earth, of Fire, of the Sun, of Lightning, and the Spiritual Sword of Light. Their bearers are known as the Seven Swords of the Central Continent. They are the highest-ranked knights of Nellis.
Kuto thought of the white-haired knight who had arrived in Nessis dragging one of those swords along the ground.
*Thunder.*
*Silvano.*
He said nothing about that.
— And the Lafti you mentioned.
Anseff had that expression of someone who is about to speak on a subject he finds simultaneously fascinating and frustrating.
— Genius of one in a thousand generations. Probably greater than Lord Zenk in terms of raw capacity — this is the academics' opinion, not mine. — The qualification came quickly, reflex of someone who had learned to be careful with comparisons. — Studied at Nadirah for two years. Then simply left.
— Left?
— Left everything. Title. Position. A future that any other academic on the continent would trade their entire existence to have. Travels as a common person. Says he feels no pleasure in what the world wanted him to be.
— Where is he now?
— Unknown. — Anseff said this with that specific resignation of someone who had clearly tried to find out and couldn't. — He appears occasionally. Helps when he wants to help. Then disappears.
Kuto was silent for a moment.
*A genius who chose not to use what he had. Who decided the path the world had prepared for him was not the path he wanted.*
*There is something in this that I recognise.*
— I've understood everything — said Kuto.
— Excellent. — Anseff had that quality of satisfied efficiency of a person who has delivered information and received confirmation. — Then we begin the preparations immediately.
---
The forest that lay to the east of Zordis was not an ordinary forest.
It didn't have the name that forests habitually have on maps — it had no marking on maps, because the things that dwelled within it refused to be mapped in the same way that certain presences refuse to be named. It was simply forest, with that quality of a place that had existed before any decision about what existed or didn't exist.
The Mage of Fear moved between the trees with that gait of something that no longer had urgency but that was also not completely without purpose.
The body still carried the signs of what had happened in Zef and afterward. The transformation that Cassius had worked upon him with the Inert Transfiguration had been reversed — the original form had returned, with that specific process of something being undone that leaves marks where the joins had been. The skin of the face with that slightly different texture from what it had been before, like a scar that came not from a wound but from use.
And in his hand — he carried darkness.
Not metaphorically. Literally — a mass of condensed shadow that reacted to his presence, that thickened as he drew near as though it recognised him as its source. Weeks of gathering. Fear from Zef, fear from Kuto's group, fear from the inhabitants who had been captured, fear accumulated from situations that generated fear in quantities he knew how to gather with the efficiency of decades of practice.
He stopped.
On his face — the mask.
White. Smooth. With the painted smile and the question mark.
The mask began to fade — becoming transparent with that slowness of something being voluntarily deactivated, revealing the face beneath with the same gradualness with which mist lifts.
The face was his own. With the marks it had. With the eyes that had that quality of something that had lived close to fear long enough that some of fear's properties had migrated inward.
— I am merely a useful pawn on the chessboard — he said.
His own voice. Coming from his own throat. Without the distortion that Cassius's mask had carried.
But the words were Cassius's.
The mass of darkness in his hands pulsed.
It was nearly complete.
The Mage of Fear looked at it for a moment with that specific attention of a craftsman evaluating work that is close to finished but that still needs something more to be exactly as it should be.
Something was missing.
Not quantity — quality. A specific type of fear he had not managed to gather in Zef. That Zef had not produced because Zef was a destroyed village and people who had already lost too much for the specific type of fear he needed to still be available in them.
He needed another place.
A place with people who still had much to lose.
Who still believed that things could go well.
Whose fear would be of the kind that comes from hope — the richest kind, the kind that produced a quality no other variety of fear could equal.
The Mage of Fear looked in the direction of Zordis's distant lights.
Tomorrow would be the festival.
All the kingdoms gathered.
Royal families. Prodigies. Guards. Civilians. Children.
Everything in one place.
Expecting tomorrow to be an ordinary day.
The mass of darkness pulsed stronger.
It was nearly ready.