Civil War
Title: Civil War
Genre: Fantasy
Length: 1653 words
Challenge #: 5 - "I'm terrified that my sons will be tempted to join the resistance."
Rating: PG?
Disclaimers: The City Rhinion and all characters and names mentioned here, with a few exceptions that I shall state, are mine. The character Cilmora belongs to Nike of Aramasa, who doesn't mind if I mention her. The names Manice, Carlion, and Lilana were invented by Master-Tetrin of Aramasa and Kailita. The name Rhinion was orginally thought of by Boogeyman of Aramasa. Basically my point is this: Aramasa is essentially my world and my baby. However, since it IS a role-playing community, many of the details and principles that make it up came from my close friends (especially Nike and Kailita, holy monkies.)
Notes: I haven't posted with any of these characters in a LONG time, and this challenge gave me inspiration to bring them back to life. I hope I haven't shoved too much background in there...I thought of actually ending the post at the end of the Council's POV, but that didn't really fullfill the challenge...so I thought I'd incorporate my other Rhinion dwellers, Aaron and Kaya. I REALLY hope the end of the piece doesn't sound too forced.
A knock sounded on the door. The grizzled, sinewy old woman turned towards the interruption, an acidic scowl on her wrinkled face. Her scowl didn’t lessen any when she recognized the knock. She merely stood from where she had been sitting on the faded blue coverlet of the plain, wood-framed bed, and turned, unsuccessfully trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her brown, woolen dress.
“Yes, what is it?” Ki Aetrioni snapped with her usual air of grumpy superiority.
The door opened, revealing a wide, stout woman wearing a canary-yellow dress that clashed horribly with her earlobe-length, flaming-red hair. Fuera Illasin did not curtsy, nod, or show any sign of respect towards the former High Councilwoman of the Lilana. She didn’t so much as flinch at the scowling glare that the white-haired Ki leveled at her. After all, they had served on the Council together for many years. Fuera was used to Ki’s glares; in fact, she was rather skilled in her own brand of stony looks.
“So?” Ki grated impatiently.
“The news is...unpleasant,” Fuera said levelly in her usual smooth, unoffending tone.
“And remind me again why Mielle isn’t the one delivering it?”
“Because she’s caught up with berating one of her new informants. Apparently, these untrained girls are particularly clueless. Honestly, Ki, by what power are you suddenly the leader of the Lilana? Our numbers may be less, but we are still the Council.” Fuera’s plump face had an amicable quality to it, thus making her present level glare seem rather out of place. However, that aspect of her countenance, in addition to the icy tone in her high-pitched, gentle voice somehow made it all the more effective.
The older woman didn’t show any signs of backing down, save that her eyes briefly flickered to her feet. That small gesture acknowledged that Fuera’s anger was justified. The three of them had been particularly adamant in their agreement that they were still equals, especially with their experiences with Anamaria’s reign over the Council still fresh in their minds.
Fuera caught the gesture, and the matter was settled. She entered the small bedroom without speaking further, closing the door behind her. The chunky Councilwoman spared no more than a glance for their humble surroundings. The remnants of the Lilana Council had been hiding out in this middle-class inn on the western outskirts of Lilana territory for a few weeks now. All three, Mielle, Ki, and Fuera had become accustomed to places such as these. They hadn’t complained (too much), but had instead, as the ever-logical Mielle had advised, focused on reclaiming their power as quickly as possible.
Fuera launched immediately into her report. “It seems new factions are springing up quicker than mushrooms after a rain,” she stated with a small sigh of disappointment. “And it’s not just the ones who call themselves the True Lilana. They’ve been underground for some time now, it seems, but didn’t unify and organize until after Cilmora disposed of Anamaria.”
Ki’s face darkened at the mention of both names. None of the Council members had mourned Anamaria’s passing. However, the Cilmora woman was a hundred times worse. If Mielle’s reports were true, and they seldom were wrong, then Cilmora was almost as much of a demon as Rashaikar himself.
Fuera’s pudgy face crinkled into a frown as well, but she plowed on nonetheless. She didn’t like dwelling on those two women any more than Ki did.
“Apparently the True Lilana are under new leadership now.” Fuera’s amiable face crinkled into a sneer. “According to the reports, their leader claims to have possession of the Crown of Rhinion. She claims this makes her the rightful leader of the city.”
If Ki hadn’t had the desire to not soil her own carpet, she would have spat. “Not even the Baron, the Goddesses blight his soul, had true leadership of Rhinion, and he’s the one those little upstarts stole the crown from. If they even have it. They’re either liars or grave-robbers, Zichit take them all!”
Fuera sighed again, closing her eyes briefly. “That’s not all. It seems some of their group didn’t agree with the change in leadership. A group of radicals have broken away from the True Lilana. They call themselves the Lilana of Light. Their ranks are comprised solely of religious fundamentalists.”
Ki growled. “Foaming-mouthed fundies, the Goddesses take them all. That’s the last thing this city needs. If they took power, they’d probably hold inquisitions, massacre everyone except their own, and then knowing those kind of people, they’d start turning on their own faction! Imagine!” Her grizzled face was curdled in utter disgust.
“Agreed. We must not let that happen,” Fuera said, nodding. The healer’s face darkened as she looked at her feet contemplatively. “That’s not the worst of it, however.”
Ki scoffed loudly, giving Fuera a look that questioned how it could possibly get worse.
“Not only are those annoying Carlion rebels still around, but a new Carlion faction has appeared. They’ve been claiming responsibility for a number of attacks on both Manice and Lilana. However, it’s almost impossible to locate and destroy them, for they’re what I suppose you’d call a secret society. They refer to themselves as the Knights of Freedom, but they’re nothing more than anarchists.”
“Scum!” Ki spat. “Men and women working together...trying to break down the established rule and replace it with chaos!” The old woman’s face was growing red. “Radicals! Terrorists! How dare they!”
Fuera’s voice lowered darkly. “It’s worse than that.”
Ki looked at the shorter woman in utter incredulity. “How?!”
“There are even some in Rhinion who give their allegiance to the Demon of the Night.”
Silence fell over the room.
Ki paled. Humans who followed Rashaikar. The Father of Lies. The First Demon.
It was official. Nothing could be worse than that.
*********
“I’m terrified that my son will be tempted to join the resistance.”
Aaron Da’mirei paused in his passing, discreetly leaning against the outside wall of the humble house. He wasn’t in immediate danger, being in the Carlion section of Rhinion where both men and women coexisted peacefully, but it wouldn’t be wise for him to be caught eavesdropping. Especially when his current goal was to try to befriend the Carlion.
“Which resistance?” a male voice scoffed from inside the house. “The old one with the monks? Those clowns who call themselves the Freedom Knights or whatnot?”
“Belsho, this isn’t funny,” the first voice, a female, intoned solemnly. “This is Caelin we’re talking about here. You know how he is.”
“Yeah, sometimes I think the boy doesn’t have a grain of wit about him. He’s my nephew and I love him, but I wouldn’t leave him alone with a sword in his hand.” The man’s tone was still humorous, trying to take the situation with levity.
Aaron assumed that the woman was giving her brother a glare, because there was a stretch of silence after that. Aaron suppressed a chuckle. The behavior of these two unseen people made him wonder if he and his fraternal twin Kaya were going to constantly be at each other’s throats, even into adulthood. Something in him didn’t doubt it in the least.
The woman began speaking again, her tone as worried as before. “Caelin’s only fifteen, Belsho, but he has all these ideas in him. He keeps going on about the oppression of the Manice and Lilana. It’s all he ever talks about.”
“Look around you, Fiedra!” Belsho intoned sarcastically. “We’ve been oppressed by those loonies for over fifty years now. It’s not like your boy has any new ideas in that empty head of his.” His tone was more biting now. The mirth had disappeared from it completely.
“No, Belsho, listen to me,” the woman hissed. “It’s not just that. His words...they’re the same basic things over and over again. Whenever he gets on his high horse about our oppression, it’s the same rhetoric every time. One of those radicals got to him, Belsho.”
There was a pause. Aaron edged a little closer to the window, wondering if the conversation had simply gotten too soft for him to hear. Then, the man began to speak again.
“So what if Caelin has a passion about something?” Belsho’s tone was low and somewhat dark. “Better for him to have a passion about something constructive, something that will be good for everyone, than for him to have no fire in him at all.”
“I will not lose him!”
Aaron was caught off-guard by Fiedra’s tone. She was quiet, hissing, but those five words held more emotion than any speech the young bard had heard before. Even his sister, the ever-vehement Kaya, had never sounded that intense.
“I lost Kensi to the Lilana. I will not lose my children again.”
Aaron’s hazel eyes widened. So the rumors he’d heard were true. The Manice and Lilana did steal children away. The two groups were comprised solely of men and solely of women, respectively...there was no other way to increase their numbers.
“But Fiedra...” Belsho’s tone was more gentle and sympathetic, but he was still clearly trying to prove a point. “It’s not the same.”
“I will. Not. Lose him.”
Kaya Da’mirei chose that moment to appear from behind a corner. Aaron immediately dashed the few steps over to his sister and put a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened in offense, but the urgency on Aaron’s face was enough to silence her. The jovial, straw-haired bard was never urgent, never serious. Aaron nodded towards the window of the house.
A silent understanding passed from one twin to the other. Side-by-side, they crept away from the house.
Now they were faced with a new dilemma. In this city so foreign to them, how were they to find allies against the injustices they were sent to fight? In the midst of a civil war, how were they to know who was right?
Genre: Fantasy
Length: 1653 words
Challenge #: 5 - "I'm terrified that my sons will be tempted to join the resistance."
Rating: PG?
Disclaimers: The City Rhinion and all characters and names mentioned here, with a few exceptions that I shall state, are mine. The character Cilmora belongs to Nike of Aramasa, who doesn't mind if I mention her. The names Manice, Carlion, and Lilana were invented by Master-Tetrin of Aramasa and Kailita. The name Rhinion was orginally thought of by Boogeyman of Aramasa. Basically my point is this: Aramasa is essentially my world and my baby. However, since it IS a role-playing community, many of the details and principles that make it up came from my close friends (especially Nike and Kailita, holy monkies.)
Notes: I haven't posted with any of these characters in a LONG time, and this challenge gave me inspiration to bring them back to life. I hope I haven't shoved too much background in there...I thought of actually ending the post at the end of the Council's POV, but that didn't really fullfill the challenge...so I thought I'd incorporate my other Rhinion dwellers, Aaron and Kaya. I REALLY hope the end of the piece doesn't sound too forced.
A knock sounded on the door. The grizzled, sinewy old woman turned towards the interruption, an acidic scowl on her wrinkled face. Her scowl didn’t lessen any when she recognized the knock. She merely stood from where she had been sitting on the faded blue coverlet of the plain, wood-framed bed, and turned, unsuccessfully trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her brown, woolen dress.
“Yes, what is it?” Ki Aetrioni snapped with her usual air of grumpy superiority.
The door opened, revealing a wide, stout woman wearing a canary-yellow dress that clashed horribly with her earlobe-length, flaming-red hair. Fuera Illasin did not curtsy, nod, or show any sign of respect towards the former High Councilwoman of the Lilana. She didn’t so much as flinch at the scowling glare that the white-haired Ki leveled at her. After all, they had served on the Council together for many years. Fuera was used to Ki’s glares; in fact, she was rather skilled in her own brand of stony looks.
“So?” Ki grated impatiently.
“The news is...unpleasant,” Fuera said levelly in her usual smooth, unoffending tone.
“And remind me again why Mielle isn’t the one delivering it?”
“Because she’s caught up with berating one of her new informants. Apparently, these untrained girls are particularly clueless. Honestly, Ki, by what power are you suddenly the leader of the Lilana? Our numbers may be less, but we are still the Council.” Fuera’s plump face had an amicable quality to it, thus making her present level glare seem rather out of place. However, that aspect of her countenance, in addition to the icy tone in her high-pitched, gentle voice somehow made it all the more effective.
The older woman didn’t show any signs of backing down, save that her eyes briefly flickered to her feet. That small gesture acknowledged that Fuera’s anger was justified. The three of them had been particularly adamant in their agreement that they were still equals, especially with their experiences with Anamaria’s reign over the Council still fresh in their minds.
Fuera caught the gesture, and the matter was settled. She entered the small bedroom without speaking further, closing the door behind her. The chunky Councilwoman spared no more than a glance for their humble surroundings. The remnants of the Lilana Council had been hiding out in this middle-class inn on the western outskirts of Lilana territory for a few weeks now. All three, Mielle, Ki, and Fuera had become accustomed to places such as these. They hadn’t complained (too much), but had instead, as the ever-logical Mielle had advised, focused on reclaiming their power as quickly as possible.
Fuera launched immediately into her report. “It seems new factions are springing up quicker than mushrooms after a rain,” she stated with a small sigh of disappointment. “And it’s not just the ones who call themselves the True Lilana. They’ve been underground for some time now, it seems, but didn’t unify and organize until after Cilmora disposed of Anamaria.”
Ki’s face darkened at the mention of both names. None of the Council members had mourned Anamaria’s passing. However, the Cilmora woman was a hundred times worse. If Mielle’s reports were true, and they seldom were wrong, then Cilmora was almost as much of a demon as Rashaikar himself.
Fuera’s pudgy face crinkled into a frown as well, but she plowed on nonetheless. She didn’t like dwelling on those two women any more than Ki did.
“Apparently the True Lilana are under new leadership now.” Fuera’s amiable face crinkled into a sneer. “According to the reports, their leader claims to have possession of the Crown of Rhinion. She claims this makes her the rightful leader of the city.”
If Ki hadn’t had the desire to not soil her own carpet, she would have spat. “Not even the Baron, the Goddesses blight his soul, had true leadership of Rhinion, and he’s the one those little upstarts stole the crown from. If they even have it. They’re either liars or grave-robbers, Zichit take them all!”
Fuera sighed again, closing her eyes briefly. “That’s not all. It seems some of their group didn’t agree with the change in leadership. A group of radicals have broken away from the True Lilana. They call themselves the Lilana of Light. Their ranks are comprised solely of religious fundamentalists.”
Ki growled. “Foaming-mouthed fundies, the Goddesses take them all. That’s the last thing this city needs. If they took power, they’d probably hold inquisitions, massacre everyone except their own, and then knowing those kind of people, they’d start turning on their own faction! Imagine!” Her grizzled face was curdled in utter disgust.
“Agreed. We must not let that happen,” Fuera said, nodding. The healer’s face darkened as she looked at her feet contemplatively. “That’s not the worst of it, however.”
Ki scoffed loudly, giving Fuera a look that questioned how it could possibly get worse.
“Not only are those annoying Carlion rebels still around, but a new Carlion faction has appeared. They’ve been claiming responsibility for a number of attacks on both Manice and Lilana. However, it’s almost impossible to locate and destroy them, for they’re what I suppose you’d call a secret society. They refer to themselves as the Knights of Freedom, but they’re nothing more than anarchists.”
“Scum!” Ki spat. “Men and women working together...trying to break down the established rule and replace it with chaos!” The old woman’s face was growing red. “Radicals! Terrorists! How dare they!”
Fuera’s voice lowered darkly. “It’s worse than that.”
Ki looked at the shorter woman in utter incredulity. “How?!”
“There are even some in Rhinion who give their allegiance to the Demon of the Night.”
Silence fell over the room.
Ki paled. Humans who followed Rashaikar. The Father of Lies. The First Demon.
It was official. Nothing could be worse than that.
*********
“I’m terrified that my son will be tempted to join the resistance.”
Aaron Da’mirei paused in his passing, discreetly leaning against the outside wall of the humble house. He wasn’t in immediate danger, being in the Carlion section of Rhinion where both men and women coexisted peacefully, but it wouldn’t be wise for him to be caught eavesdropping. Especially when his current goal was to try to befriend the Carlion.
“Which resistance?” a male voice scoffed from inside the house. “The old one with the monks? Those clowns who call themselves the Freedom Knights or whatnot?”
“Belsho, this isn’t funny,” the first voice, a female, intoned solemnly. “This is Caelin we’re talking about here. You know how he is.”
“Yeah, sometimes I think the boy doesn’t have a grain of wit about him. He’s my nephew and I love him, but I wouldn’t leave him alone with a sword in his hand.” The man’s tone was still humorous, trying to take the situation with levity.
Aaron assumed that the woman was giving her brother a glare, because there was a stretch of silence after that. Aaron suppressed a chuckle. The behavior of these two unseen people made him wonder if he and his fraternal twin Kaya were going to constantly be at each other’s throats, even into adulthood. Something in him didn’t doubt it in the least.
The woman began speaking again, her tone as worried as before. “Caelin’s only fifteen, Belsho, but he has all these ideas in him. He keeps going on about the oppression of the Manice and Lilana. It’s all he ever talks about.”
“Look around you, Fiedra!” Belsho intoned sarcastically. “We’ve been oppressed by those loonies for over fifty years now. It’s not like your boy has any new ideas in that empty head of his.” His tone was more biting now. The mirth had disappeared from it completely.
“No, Belsho, listen to me,” the woman hissed. “It’s not just that. His words...they’re the same basic things over and over again. Whenever he gets on his high horse about our oppression, it’s the same rhetoric every time. One of those radicals got to him, Belsho.”
There was a pause. Aaron edged a little closer to the window, wondering if the conversation had simply gotten too soft for him to hear. Then, the man began to speak again.
“So what if Caelin has a passion about something?” Belsho’s tone was low and somewhat dark. “Better for him to have a passion about something constructive, something that will be good for everyone, than for him to have no fire in him at all.”
“I will not lose him!”
Aaron was caught off-guard by Fiedra’s tone. She was quiet, hissing, but those five words held more emotion than any speech the young bard had heard before. Even his sister, the ever-vehement Kaya, had never sounded that intense.
“I lost Kensi to the Lilana. I will not lose my children again.”
Aaron’s hazel eyes widened. So the rumors he’d heard were true. The Manice and Lilana did steal children away. The two groups were comprised solely of men and solely of women, respectively...there was no other way to increase their numbers.
“But Fiedra...” Belsho’s tone was more gentle and sympathetic, but he was still clearly trying to prove a point. “It’s not the same.”
“I will. Not. Lose him.”
Kaya Da’mirei chose that moment to appear from behind a corner. Aaron immediately dashed the few steps over to his sister and put a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened in offense, but the urgency on Aaron’s face was enough to silence her. The jovial, straw-haired bard was never urgent, never serious. Aaron nodded towards the window of the house.
A silent understanding passed from one twin to the other. Side-by-side, they crept away from the house.
Now they were faced with a new dilemma. In this city so foreign to them, how were they to find allies against the injustices they were sent to fight? In the midst of a civil war, how were they to know who was right?