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086 - Suffering Rancor

 
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Amyral

Windriders


Joined: 18 Sep 2006
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Location: Sawgrass Landing
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PostPosted: Sat Aug 15, 2009 11:19 pm    Post subject: 086 - Suffering Rancor Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Why’s a Mystic working for One Nation?

Why’s a Mystic working for One Nation?

He had asked himself that question many times before. It had been years in the making, something his life had led up to this point. He didn’t like thinking about it.

It has more to do with my comrades than any loyalty to a piece of land.

That was as good of an answer as any for him. He had managed to keep his reasons a secret for anyone else, he certainly wasn’t going to let them slip to a stranger, even one as famous as Khali.

His mind was elsewhere for the rest of the conversation. He knew Khali wasn’t interested in speaking and her attitude made it readily obvious to him that she wasn’t too interested in her own kind anymore.

* * *

Like every night in the underground, the only light available was by lantern. Marceleo saw Corscen out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over his shoulder, his mouth letting out a wry smile.

“Corscen? This is a pleasant surprise.”

Corscen furled his brow. “How could you?” he asked angrily, storming up to Marceleo.

Marceleo let out a sigh. “You knew this was going to happen. You’re just a peasant.”

Corscen looked down, clenching his fist and gnashing his teeth. “You… You knew I…”

“You could never have her, Corscen,” Marceleo interrupted. “She was the niece of the emperor, you’re the son of a merchant.”

Corscen looked up, his eyes displaying a fiery resistance. “We promised each other.”

“Empty words, Corscen.” Marceleo responded. “I know you’re angry, it’d be best if you left and went home while you still had your dignity.”

“I trusted you,” Corscen responded. “You knew I loved her. You knew she loved me. We could have made it work.”

Marceleo shook his head. “No, Corscen, you couldn’t have. She knew that. That’s why she asked me to arrange her marriage.”

“Liar!” Corscen yelled, charging at Marceleo.

There was a burst of energy, a fireball shot at out Corscen. Corscen dodged, reaching behind his back and pulling out a long knife. Marceleo leapt back, grabbing a knife from behind his back and deflecting Corscen’s attack.

“This is ridiculous Corscen. You can’t hope to beat me, you’re a peasant, you have no formal magic training,” Marceleo said.

Corscen scowled, clenching the knife. “Try me.”

There was a flurry of slashes and attacks. Corscen was agile, able to dodge them. Marceleo was more technical, aiming his magical attacks. Corscen slashed at Marceleo arm and Marceleo spun out of the way, blasting Corscen with a fireball in the chest. Corscen fell back and Marceleo leapt onto him, pressing his knee into the peasant Mystic’s chest. Corscen found Marceleo’s knife to his neck.

“If you stop fighting now, Corscen, I won’t have you banished. I know you’re hurt, but I’m still your friend.”

Corscen looked at Marceleo. He reared his head back and spit at him, a ball of fire shooting out of his mouth that sent Marceleo stumbling backwards. Corscen leapt on him, slashing his arm to make him drop the knife. Marceleo cried out, trying to pull his arm back as Corscen yelled out. “You knew I loved her!” he yelled. “You knew I loved Arlea! You had no right!”

Marceleo scowled up at him. “So? What now, are you going to kill me? Are you going to break her heart? You should have gone back home.”

Corscen frowned, punching Marceleo on the ground. “Have you heard of Almaghest, Marceleo? The forbidden spell of destruction?”

Marceleo frowned. “Of course, all knowledge of it is sealed away.”

Corscen scowled down. “And of the other forbidden magics? Do you know of them as well?”

Marceleo nodded. “All sealed, almost none know of them,” he continued. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I think you know,” Corscen said, his hand beginning to glow. He began to chant something and Marceleo’s eyes widened. Corscen slammed his palm onto Marceleo’s forehead and both mystics screamed as a bright light filled the room.

“IHUGHEST!”

“Marceleo? I… I heard a scream!” A young woman’s voice yelled as she appeared in the doorway.

Corscen turned his head. His arm was red and purple after being greatly burned and, on the ground, Marceleo’s eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily.

“C-Corscen? What did you do?” she asked, taking a step back.

Corscen looked at her, furling his brow. “Arlea…” he managed to get out. “It’s over.”

She ran to him, grabbing his tunic. “C-Corscen! What’d you do?!”

He closed his eyes. “Every time you two touch, he’ll feel the pain of a thousand daggers plunging into his skin. Every time you rub his cheek, he’ll feel the searing heat of a thousand suns. Every time you kiss, he’ll want to die more and more. He’s suffering, Arlea, he’s suffering because he knew I loved you and he still took your hand.”

Her eyes widened. “Y-You used… You stole it when I took you there!” She exclaimed. “We were kids! I showed you the repository and you stole one of them.”

“I’m just a peasant, remember? No one would dare train me in magic, and I’d certainly never have an opportunity to learn a spell like Ihughest. I just wanted to protect you… so I looked.”

Before he could finish his explanation, he felt the pain across his cheek. Arlea had slapped him. “You had no right!”

Corscen looked at her. “Hope you enjoy him, whore,” he said, storming off.

Corscen left for the human world. He didn’t return until after Soljin was gone and, by that time, no one remembered him. Arlea had become a victim of Soljin’s sacrifice.

* * *

“Cost, come on, Croft’s meeting with all his top commanders. As our local mystic, you’re free to come with us,” Marco said, shaking Costanza out of his daydream.

Cost nodded, following Marco into the command tent. The mood had been quite solemn as a few of Croft’s top commanders sat around the table. The war was almost over, it was on the cusp of being a victory, but it was stolen from him. Croft wanted to meet out of the eye of the UN. Marco sat down in one of the chairs along with the other of the high ranking members in Croft’s army.

Costanza stood standing in the back, listening as they discussed the events. He half listened to Croft as he discussed strategy if Ohio didn’t follow it.

Deep down, he believed Croft would avoid war if possible. However, he would also willingly slaughter them if they defied him.

“Our attacks up to this point have been a success, if they refuse our offer, we’ll more our forces up to engage them in the strategic choke point.”

“You are so full of it,” Costanza muttered as he leaned against the wall.

Everyone’s eyes were suddenly centered on the mystic, staring at him. “Excuse me, soldier?” Croft asked, standing up some.

Cost glanced over. “Excuse me, go ahead,” he responded out loud.

Croft shook his head. “This is an open officer’s meeting, Cost. If you have something to say, say it.” Croft’s eyes were thin and his tone was serious. “That is an order.”

“If you insist,” Cost said, a thin smile smirking across his face. “It’s laughable that you believe the people of Ohio would so willingly submit after seeing their leader murdered, particularly when they believe you did it. And, to be frank, you have just as much motivation to do so as anyone else involved.”

“What are you implying?” Croft asked.

“Nothing,” Cost responded before continuing. “See, the difference between you and Reynolds is that you had the bigger army and Reynolds cared about the people of Ohio. You care about having one nation, not under a trusted government but a fist. You’ll use a big army and a specter of fear to get people to submit but when they stop being afraid of you and fight back, you’ll slaughter them without a second thought. You don’t believe in diplomacy, you believe in power.”

“Reynolds was willing to surrender!”

“Diplomacy isn’t demanding surrender and leaving the room. Diplomacy isn’t showing up with a bigger gun and accepting surrender. Diplomacy is being willing to sit down, you, yourself, and discuss. It’s being willing to concede. It’s doing whatever it takes to not fight. That’s what you don’t understand. If you were committed to unity then you’d realize that you get it by the pen and not the sword.

But you’ve ignored that, and if you knew a thing about being a leader the first thing you would have done is contact Karn. You’ve put the ideal in front of the people and they don’t see you as a liberator destroying a corrupt government. They see you as a man who was willing to kill farmers and hunters, people who have put their heart, blood and soul into this land despite everything else. This isn’t a rebellion, these aren’t thugs. This is a war against civilians!

They don’t’ trust you, they never will now. By giving them an ultimatum you have given Karn exactly what he wants, Clarence. You’ve successfully shown you don’t want peace, you’ve shown you want war. To them, you’re Antoire.”

Croft stood up angrily. “You’ve crossed a line, soldier,” he responded in a muffled anger.

Cost smiled. “Good, because you need to know the anger they were feeling when they saw their leader’s brains scattered across the cameras. Neither Reynolds nor Karn were afraid of you, but they were smart. Reynolds cared about his people, he cared about their safety. Karn knows they value their independence; he’s going to use your speech against you. Right now, it doesn’t matter who killed Reynolds. What matters is your next move. If it’s violent the entire world will be against you. If you respond to his ultimatum with bullets then every damn thing you have worked for will end. You’ll be a despot.”

Croft sat down, glancing away for a moment before looking up. “And you would suggest?”

“Give Karn the choice. Make an announcement that you wish to meet with Karn for diplomatic relations. You, not Andrew Lizar, not a representative in your stead, you have to be there. And bring news, an entourage of reporters with whomever you bring. Two or three One Nation soldiers and a neutral party or two on Karn’s territory,” Cost suggested. “The entire country is considering the possibility that you killed Reynolds, your first response shouldn’t be to proclaim that no one is innocent, it should be to directly challenge Karn’s words, to say that the people of Ohio deserve peace and unity.”

“You want me to be a sitting duck,” Croft scoffed.

“That's what the news is for, broadcast is as good a shield as any magic. Besides, Reynolds put himself out there. If you’re not willing to, then maybe you aren’t the man we all chose to follow.”

With that Cost turned to walk out. Croft stood up as if to tell him that he wasn’t dismissed, but Cost ignored him. He was already gone by that time. The others around the table stared in disbelief, but Croft sat perched with his fingers together, deep in thought.

Cost merely went back to his bunker. The entire incident had united his annoyance for the human world.
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