Changing Conventions

Written by LordForte

The two attendants in front of her bowed, pulling open the thick red curtains. Velandra, ever mindful of her height when walking in the air, dipped through the opening. Although her ceremonial Crown of Immortality was less bulky and unarmored, its height profile remained impressive. An almost painful brightness greeted her, a sharp difference between comfortable indoor lanterns and the blazing afternoon sun. Truly a clear day, hotly bearing down upon Tomu in its entirety.
A spectator’s box of sorts awaited her, being a comfortable area to sit within and observe the going-ons below. A smooth floor of polished yellow wood, framed by unlit braziers and fanciful curtain-banners across the ceiling. Streaks of twinkling crystal threads wove with the purple silk, as resplendent as a snake’s own scales. They complimented the solemn and unmoving marble statues that lined the walls, long and slithering serpents of fortune and power. They stretched to the edges of the spectator’s box, peering over with a keen if judgmental gaze.
“I, first maid Xiaomei, present her supreme power, sovereign of all Heavens, Velandra!” came the dutiful declaration at her entrance.
The three grandly dressed officials ahead of her stood at the declaration. They all bowed, singing out a dignified greeting of, “We greet the estimable sovereign!” Not one dared move while Velandra approached her own seating. On a raised dais awaited a plush yet firm cushion, completed with a wide-set armrest and modest lower backing. Bespoke in its golden-brown woodwork and purple cloth, a filigree of clear crysium gave it a wondrous glint. She and it were old friends; high in status but easy to move, such was the convenience of a portable throne.
“You may sit,” she declared, sitting down in a cross-legged manner. A much more comfortable way she could skirt convention with thanks to her voluminous dress. The layered lilac-colored dress Xiaomei had impressed upon her spilled out and downward, hanging like a flowing waterfall over the lip of the dais. It complimented the paintings of Tomu’s verdant wilderness and mountainous borders, owing a fantastic yet homely atmosphere. Velandra habitually drew her sleeves in, folding her hands across her lap. The officials followed suit, sitting in their own ways with regard to her. Xiaomei stood behind Velandra’s dais, strictly quiet and waiting.
“I am glad to see fortunes permitted the great sovereign time to join us,” Honchu Donlao said first, the lauraume bowing again. The assortment of ruby and green-jade flowers growing from his head waggled at the sudden motion. “I feared this tournament exhibition may go ungraced by her.”
“It is unfortunate I was made to miss the first day’s showings, but such meetings could not be avoided. I trust the proceedings have been fruitful?”
“That and more. I will admit it is a relief to not merely judge talent upon martial prowess. That it draws too many is perhaps a bigger problem …”
“They cannot be expected to know their worth. If they can make the journey, then at the least a fair look is a proper response.”
“I am certain they will not disappoint the great sovereign’s expectations,” Donlao said with another bow. Of the three, he stuck to decorum with a fervor rarely seen elsewhere. At times he was pleasant to deal with; others, an insufferable stickler for detail. It rather made him ideal as a general secretary of the Accord's affairs.
“I still say without a proper trial, how are we to know who stands where?” Laoka Jouhu asked, regarding Donlao more than Velandra with his improper tone. Being the only human among them, his middle-aged excellence carried the form and scars of a battlefield veteran. A war general once retired from the distant lands of Maika who had quite eagerly sought to serve under her. “These five minute matches are hardly enough, even by my standards.”
“Because the point isn’t to turn a sapling into a tree, isn’t that right, Donlao?” the third interjected, her deep voice oozing a savory sensuality that’d deceive the ears. Gerao Himochi much more lounged than sat upon her rather too-large cushion. Something that made the muurun’s opened dress-top and baggy pants a strange mixture of alluring and egotistical. “Really, I thought you could see that much,” she quipped, glancing at Jouhu with a disapproving glint. Her clan of huntresses long stalked through Tomu, as much villains as heroines to the populace. So it was she ever had the tongue to back up that colorful history.
“Your baiting is as naked as your paws,” Jouhu shot back, his tone entirely even and bored as Himochi seemed surprised by it. “Just as one cannot see a warrior’s true skill in a brief exchange, a brief demonstration does not show their potential.”
“And yet you still screech on about that,” Himochi retorted, sitting up on her elbow and glaring. “Or have you—“
“Enough,” Velandra cut in, a presence of voice that didn’t need a magical aura to weigh upon them. The officials shut up in an instant, their faces plastered in looks of polite disregard. “As you have surmised, this manner of talent searching is not an exhaustive one. The Accord still lacks for competent persons, and we must rush to fill such positions.”
“Understanding as I am, great sovereign,” Jouhu said before the other two could, “inadequate talent in critical positions will invite later calamities. Whether in an army or not.”
“It is as you say, but to leave the positions vacant is to hobble ourselves. Can you judge which choice will leave us in less peril, general Jouhu?”
“… For some, yes. In its entirety, as much as it shames me, I cannot.”
“Then I will take your wisdom into consideration, but an untenable position demands a bold answer. Only the Heavens know the outcomes that await us.”
Jouhu bowed his head, “It is as the great sovereign says.”
A rousing clamor grew over their conversation, one that eventually drew all their attentions to the ‘arena’ which they spectated. A circular slab of elevated, evenly cut and flatly laid gray stone sat surrounded by rows and rows of ever raising benches. Other spectator boxes, smaller and less grand than Velandra’s, housed the respective noble families who’d rented them. With them both, many hundreds could sit comfortably and observe the exhibition. Between the spectators and the arena itself, a flat dead zone filled with mages and cultivators oversaw the protective magics that such a place needed. It certainly exceeded her expectations how jam-packed the whole place had become.
Xiaomei seems correct in arranging it as a larger festival, she mused. All sorts of businesses and guilds had piled letters upon her desk, asking for participation permission. The mere thought of that formidable stack made her nose wrinkle. There is at least three gatherings I need to attend after this. Ah, perhaps I can instead host a blossom watching party at the end? They were past the spring season, so they’d have to suit for the summer blossoms instead. A few days’ notice should be sufficient forewarning, but … She’d put that headache off for later.
Velandra instead beheld the many young adults who waited and lounged at the arena’s gated entrance. Untrained talent often hadn’t learned to internalize their mana, exposing their capability to one’s magical senses. A trivial matter for her, though something few mage’s she’d ever met were capable of doing themselves. The how and why of that curiosity ever eluded her. “Huntress Himochi, who do you set your eyes upon?” she asked, glancing over at the muurun. Who, as it happened to be, been eating eating a fistful of grapes and nearly choked on them.
“Ahem, ahk, ahem—yes, well!” Himochi thumped her chest a few times and took a sip of something that probably was wine or beer. “There’s a trio of veltron … well, not mages, but the great sovereign understands. I’m hoping to have them and fix my veltron workers into proper shape.”
“Mmm.” They stood out plainly enough, for veltron magic followed very firm and even forms of mana flow. “There are more that could be trained in that, I suspect. Do either of you require more veltron mages?” Velandra asked, casting a look upon Donlao and Jouhu. They did give a moment’s apparent thought before shaking their heads. “Then I will have them enlist under your care, huntress Himochi.”
“Really, more than three? That would be wonderful, great sovereign,” Himochi said with a beaming smile that showed all her dangerous teeth. A look somewhere between endearing, salacious, and predatory—a typical muurun expression. Perhaps a touch beyond ‘proper’, for one of her station.
Velandra nonetheless gave a dismissive wave. How fortunate I am, a beautiful woman’s smile no longer turns my eyes, she mused with a sardonic wistfulness. For as much of a treat they were, next to Venyra’s small-lipped smile or cocky grin, they didn’t even belong in a comparison. If anything, it made her look forward to their next meeting all the more.
Still, it would be a week or more away until their next meeting.
The deep boom of a drum sounded three times, drawing everyone’s attention to the arena’s center. A human man in black-and-purple robes stood at the center, a tall conical hat atop his head with a golden ribbon trailing off the tip; the arena master. “We will now begin the day’s expedition matches!” he shouted out. As he did, the many talents there to prove themselves marched up to the edge of the arena, dividing into neat rows and columns. “We are blessed with a clear day, and the personal gaze of our Heavenly Sovereign! Let us give respects!”
Velandra prided herself on not reacting when so many people turned in unison toward her. Whether directly seeable or not, they bent at the waist or fell to their knees with heads dipped, all offering respected recognition. She raised a hand smoothly, and lest she have to shout needlessly, used a touch a magic for her voice. “I have received them. I look forward to your displays of talent,” Velandra proclaimed, an evenness to her humming words that carried far and clearly. “Remember it is not mere skill in battle that is being judged. I have need of many different skills, and so perform with excellence no matter your aims.”
“We shall not shame the Heavenly Sovereign’s eyes!” the many talents said in a disjointed unison.
At Velandra’s wave, the proceedings carried on. The actual ‘matches’ would be fairly straight forward. Talents of relatively equal status would be pitted against each other if they were trying for a warrior’s career. Those who wished otherwise would enlist aid from senior mages, who would arrange the setup they needed. The time for any such display had to be short, for with over 200 talents present from the initial 600, expediency was a necessity. Forearm bands of protection, like those used in yon-qi, would afford them decent protections should any mishaps occur. She sincerely doubted any of them had the raw power needed to be directly dangerous.
I suppose I should not be surprised there does not seem to be someone older among them. At least the minds of youngsters are easier to … Ugh, what am I saying? Velandra squinted and pursed her lips, a visceral taste of sourness on her tongue. I’m only in my thirds. Youngsters. Oh, I am older than them, are I not? The realization truly did suck, and so she tried focusing on something banal. Ah, the fickleness of traditions would do. “Secretary Donlao, how successful were the adoptions of different tests for the other candidates?”
“… Reasonably. What problems there were, came about more due the expectations of a martial tournament.”
“The inclusion of sect practices did not help?”
“It became clear enough once explained. It is more the idea of a tournament in the minds of the people think of one specific thing.”
“Hm. Then we must impress harder the different meanings of an exhibition then.”
“Should we do so, I am uneasy that simplefolk will not understand it properly,” Donlao said.
“So long as the meaning is clear, they will.” Velandra stared out at the talents. Two rounds had already gone by, decent martial prowess and some usage of basic cultivation techniques even. It wasn’t too dissimilar to what happened in her village, long ago. Kids looking to prove themselves or uncover their greatness, doing anything they could for recognition. “The lands can give rise to all possibilities, if we but direct them correctly. Too many have had their dreams broken by tradition, and more still imprisoned by its suffocating thoughts.”
“I do not disagree. Still, there are only so many of us, and villages ever increase in size and number.”
Velandra wanted to sigh no matter how much she might’ve agreed with him. The vastness of her Xaishan Accord grew by the day, while capable hands remained the same. Were I to be generous and say all of them fit perfectly, the math simply does not add up. Eventually there will be more villages than I have people to handle them. Traditional wisdom is already at its limits. Then, how do I break this problem apart?
Another few martial rounds went by before the first non-martial talent showed on stage. A comely boy with a lean physique, he also wasn’t dressed in a proper attire as those before were. At a glance one could easily tell he’d come from either a poor city or a village in the wilderness. While he wore obviously second-hand clothing, it’d been cleaned and kept, and so merely showed aged scars.
Hm, the first villager to make an appearance? Velandra wondered, leaning ever so slightly forward. A few senior mages came on stage next, carrying person-sized jugs with them. Five in total, and the mages left to form a safety ring at the arena’s edges. Ho?
“Maehen from Kikikara!” he shouted out, though he simply lacked the presence to fill such a huge arena. “I shall perform the [Flowing Waterfalls Upon the Mountain] for the heavenly sovereign!”
Hooo? An accent from the southern reaches, but I do not recognize the village name. A water mage would be typical, but that technique … Velandra found his audacity quite interesting. It was the sort of one reaching beyond their means, but with a bold determination. Not the deplorable attitude more affluent children often made a show of. She raised a hand. “Begin when you are ready.”
A dazzled look overcame the boy for a moment before he shook his head and nodded. “Yes! At once!”
“He seems cute,” Himochi appraised with an unsavory tone. “Say, Vellee, is that one a veltron mage too?”
Velandra spared a withering glance at Himochi before lifting a finger. The air distorted and twisted inward, a tiny, shrill whistle sounding as a new singularity sphere came into being. It fell like a rock right onto the lounging woman’s gut, making her grunt with surprise. A teeth-gritted squeal followed as the sphere ever so slowly weighed down heavier and heavier. “Your tongue escaped your mouth again,” she remarked dryly.
“W-w-wait—hurgg—I’m sorry!” Himochi protested lamely. Try as someone even with a [Vast Mountains] physique might, she couldn’t dislodge the sphere at all. Not that it could harm her in any serious way, but who enjoyed being squished?
“If those ears could hear,” Jouhu quipped, “you would already know he is demonstrating a water style.”
“Yo-uuu, you skinny bastard!” Himochi shot back.
Donlao kept his peace and Velandra joined him in actually spectating properly. Just court already, she thought with exasperation.
Maehen had already drawn the water from the vats into the air when she wasn’t looking. That he could manage five whole vats into one amorphous blob spoke of an impressive talent. While it looked well enough, Velandra noticed something strange. That boy’s control is impressive, but why is his innate mana so pathetic? Unnaturally so, as if he suffered a mortal wound of some manner.
If the waters themselves weren’t so rich with mana, turning a turquoise and sea-green twinkling mixture, he may not have been able to do anything at all. The lands flowed greatly with such bountiful waters, but there were places far from them as well. It would be a condemning limitation of his talent to need such support. One of the foundational rules of water magic wasn’t the difficulty in manipulating water, but keeping it. In other words, defying both the veltron and the air by moving water unnaturally beyond or through them. It had to be circulated continuously in an unending churn to keep its defiance, or it’d become useless immediately.
Velandra watched and watched, the churning waters opening at the boy’s careful arm movements. [Flowing Waterfalls Upon the Mountain] came from sect-derived practices, one that worked equally for both water and veltron-based techniques. It had two simple principles: the mountain, and the waterfall. The interplay of a movement and stillness, a weakness and strength to either magical form, was its principle purpose. As an artform, however, it stood high in the difficulties involved.
The waterfall is quite natural, Velandra surmised, studying the scene. Above Maehen laid a great mountain, sloping and angled so that the water could fall down from the top. As it did, it pooled around the base, forming a tranquil sea that flowed back into the mountain’s image. So he completed the cycle, and the watery image itself proved surprisingly stable. The stones held themselves, their surface tension just enough to remain unbroken even as the ever-churning flow roiled within. Water naturally sought itself, to join together in a harmonious whole. Keeping it separated as two different surfaces touched each other took a not-inconsiderable-amount of expertise.
Ultimately, the mana dried up in the waters alarmingly quickly, and Maehen hurriedly threw them back into the vats. He bowed, and the senior mages cleared them from the arena. Before he himself could leave, Velandra spoke up.
“Your control is exemplary,” she praised, the murmuring audience falling into silence. “But I see that you struggle with your mana pool. Why is that?”
“R-respectfully, heavenly sovereign,” Maehen stammered, his fist in his hand as he bowed to her. “When I was young, my family fell ill, and I worst of all. It has left me weak since then.”
“And yet you find the strength to continue practice?”
“I was the only one who could clean the water, so I had to every day. Otherwise, the sickness would return.”
Not ‘might’, would. Velandra pursed her lips for a moment. “Xiaomei,” she said in a quiet voice, “make a note of that boys village and have the surroundings investigated. A fouled water source is a grave concern.”
“As you say, it will be,” Xiaomei returned.
“An estimable duty some take for granted. I commend you,” Velandra remarked, then waved her hand. “Now, for the next.”
Maehen thanked and bowed again feverishly before hustling off of the arena itself. Unfortunately, now that she’d spoken out to him, others may yet expect the same. Perhaps not to be outdone, her three officials deigned to comment when the martial talents finished their matches, offering their own insights. Although I am not too certain if what they say is that useful, Velandra mused, one ear listening in. Martial forms were something outside her realm, for as a mage they were largely useless to her. Personal philosophies bent to one’s own talents rarely worked well for others. Bad words could do far more harm than none at all, so she cautioned her tongue on the matter. The talents that came otherwise, however, she found some words to be a meaningful way to pass the time.
“Your understanding of layering is exemplary, but lacking in flexibility. Stone may be sturdy, but it is not wholly unmoving. If it moves too much, it cracks and shatters. If it does not move at all, it will crack and shatter under most forces that much easier. Balancing the different kinds of stones resolves this dilemma.”
“R-really? I thank the sovereign for this insight!”
“Such explosive fire is quite powerful, but your control is too unstable. You are afraid of your own power, and so it runs free. Studiously regard it as part of yourself while respecting its abilities. Fire has no compulsions, it is always trying to break free. You must be firmer than it.”
“I thank the sovereign for this insight!”
And so on, became the norm. Few truly needed anything ‘unusual’, most simply wanted for basic education. A fact that hung at the back of her mind all the while. Since the purpose of the exhibition wasn’t elimination and shame, the talents would be divided up after their showings. They were all useful in some manner, so the division became based on investment costs rather than potential. For some it took much more to bring out what they could do, and poor families could never afford it. However, a nation’s coffers were not bottomless, thus being the only real limit to her plans.
If they are sent home without promise nor pay, they have no choice but take on the family or village work, Velandra thought. She saw it firsthand growing up, time and again, how parents would starve themselves to send ‘gifted’ children to schools or apprenticeships. How terrible their faces were when they invariably returned, not that gifted at all. In daring to reach higher, they were cast down harder. A burden that might end up felt for generations to come, and so the lands had that many less capable people. It is still too early to tell if my new school system will suffice or not. If it fails, I will not know until it has failed grandly. Tch, this waiting is a vexing problem.
‘A watched hen never lays an egg, but a coop left untended would be eaten by foxes.’
So it was the old saying of farmers came back to her mind.
In the next round, a solitary girl ventured onto the arena. Her attire, like so many others, sported age and wear to it. A pragmatic outfit of a padded shirt and pants obviously intended for martial training, she even had a sword upon her hip. Velandra’s brow cocked upward when the girl laid a fist in her palm, and bowed toward her. “I, Kimimi of Gajjan thank the heavenly sovereign for this opportunity,” she spoke, practiced obviously but with a hint of a nervous rush. “The seniors and I have not found a safe way to demonstrate my talent before her estimable gaze.”
“… Oh?” Velandra hummed, a palpable wave rippling through the air. Quite a few people shuddered and hairs raised at the thrum of power beneath it. “And what is your talent?”
Velandra already had an idea, but she could give her face with the question.
“It is that of the Heavens, to wield lightning itself, oh heavenly sovereign.”
Himochi, Jouhu, and Donlao all became taken aback, and the spectating crowds broke out into excitable murmurs. Undoubtedly the nobility among them, too, became vastly interested in such a girl. Velandra merely narrowed her eyes, the weight of it all quaintly irritating. Did she live in the middle of nowhere, or did potential tutors pass over her? One was hard to believe, the other a foreboding omen. “I see that now, but what of your body? Is your physique not suitable for it?”
That would be the most obvious reason to leave her behind. A body that cannot handle such power would violently explode if it was used too much. If they were lucky.
“It is as the heavenly sovereign says,” Kimimi said with a somber tone. A heavy burden to bear, and one easy to understand by the disappointed sounds the crowd made. It as if one saw a tagraxi cub that only ever had two legs.
“How is that you have learned to utilize this talent, then?” Velandra inquired.
“Respectfully, it is only during great storms, for my body is like a feather and the lightning easy to tame.”
A moment’s thought brought an idea to Velandra’s scrutinizing mind. With a simple wave of her finger, the singularity pinning Himochi down flew off of her. Velandra heard a gasp of relief as she arose from sitting and stepped forward. Once more walking a few inches from the floor, she went to the edge of the spectator’s stand. With her dress extending below, others might think her genuinely floating through the air. Flicking her hand, the sphere hurtled forward until it stopped comfortably above the arena. “I shall propose a test, but be forewarned that where lightning goes, life and death are intimate. Do you have the resolve for it?”
It took Kimimi some obvious thinking before her gaze hardened and she nodded as solemnly one her age could.
“Good. Remember the hardiness of steeling yourself, it will be a faithful companion in life. The test is this: I shall send upon you a bolt of lightning, and you must redirect it to the black sphere above you.”
“R-redirect?”
“To create lightning is too much of a burden for your body. However, if you are strong in a storm, then your true talent may await in redirection.” Velandra held a finger up, much like a tutor would when making a point. “This is a core principle of martial magic, to redirect power rather than create or hold onto it. I am certain you have done this much already.”
“It—it is as the sovereign says,” Kimimi answered with a nervousness to her excited tone.
“I will exercise restraint in this bolt, but lightning is lightning. Seniors, do be prepared accordingly.”
The helper mages around the arena bowed in acknowledgment. The many crowds became animate, yet silent, a sort of reverence only afforded by two eyes wide open and with undivided attention. Where the many peoples could witness her magic in motion, that sort of attention invariably followed. Still, Velandra rather enjoyed how such simple displays could inspire wonder. Respect, if she felt inclined toward it; fear, when those who opposed her beheld it. A satisfying array of flavors, a reward from all of her hard work.
Something to bask in for a moment, but not too long.
That and she might’ve forgotten how to use lightning magic.
Velandra clicked her tongue. One of the first higher forms of magic I learn and it is completely slipping between my fingers. Such a useless art and here I am using it again. Raising her left hand, she used two fingers to draw an imaginary circle in the air. While the finer points had become mist, the motion of body and soul came back through instinct. Lightning demanded great power, and for her it proved no challenge at all. A crackling filled the air, followed by a sparking that grew louder and louder. By the time she finished the second circular motion, a great snarling beast of purple-black light bit at the tips of her fingers. For such a small measure, its terrible screech laid heavy on the ears, and a taste of metal permeated the lips and tongue.
“You are prepared! Good!” Velandra approved, judging Kimimi’s stance somewhat appropriate. Two legs firmly planted, a hand ready to receive, the other acting as a guard at the belly. Proof enough she understood lightning in a real manner. “Show me your skill!”
Snapping her hand forward, the beast found purchase in a flash of light. Indeed, lightning always moved in an instant, the eyes too slow to see it travel the Heavens. In one moment, nothing; the next, a singular cord connected them, then a coiling cage surrounded Kimimi’s arms. Only after it’d moved did a crack of thunder split the air. She'd caught the powerful energy, and by quickly bracing her hands, formed a conduit.
The roiling power sought an exit to which it may erupt toward and destroy. In that formation, passing endlessly through arms and torso, it became a caged dragon raging for freedom. Arcs of black electricity raced over her, the air whirling with a terrifying metallic screech. Only in that moment did Velandra see the true extent of Kimimi’s talent. How interesting! Her body struggles to provide the necessary mana, but it has the capacity to channel far more. Seeing it truly is something else!
Letting out an exhilarating shout, Kimimi spun in a circle, pivoting on one foot while tracing the ground using the other. In a flourishing sweep, she angled one arm low, and the other high, breaking the dragon’s cage. In another blinding flash of light, a second bolt of lightning shot out, slamming into the overhead sphere above. It took only split seconds for such tremendous power to move, but the aftershocks lingered upon far longer. In the stunned quiet that followed, a few voices started, then more joined them, an exuberant clamor of awe and delight. Kimimi rapidly grew embarrassed under so many eyes, fidgeting nervously.
Velandra held up a hand, and the rising clamor hurriedly shut itself up. “And as in a storm, there is yet no burden upon you?”
“N-no, heavenly sovereign!” Kimimi bowed for some reason. “While it felt, ehm, far more powerful than a storm, it was quite easy to handle!”
That much should have been the floor of what lightning is? Velandra wondered, but mentally shrugged it off. “Your talent is certainly unique, I say. A body that cannot create lighting safely, but instead is nearly a perfect vessel through which to control it. Tell me, have any old mistresses not recognized this?”
“… They have,” Kimimi answered, the change in tone viscerally noticeable. “But as I cannot safely create it, they regarded me as trash.”
That word—‘trash’.
Velandra scowled, a nasty glint in her glowing eyes. “Their ignorance offends me to hear.”
“F-forgive me for—“
“The nature of your talent is certainly a difficult one, that much can be said,” Velandra continued, stamping over the pitiable kowtowing. “Indeed, for lightning magic, the vast power it commands is a weapon of pure destruction and little else. That is what any sect or family of renown would say, I am certain. You seem ill-at-ease at such an idea.”
“That—I know what lightning can do,” Kimimi said, and while not bowed, certainly kept her head down. “It seems horrible to turn it upon people.”
“War is horror incarnate, yet it will find us if we are unready. Nonetheless under the Heavens, it is that sort of thinking that trapped us all.” Velandra curled her hand, drawing in the singularity sphere still floating up above. As it neared, the unstable sphere finally began warbling and contorting, disappearing in a quiet whisper when it met her palm. “The sects and families alike only see with war in their eyes. If one cannot fight, they are trash. Yet who builds our homes? Who tills the lands, so that we may enjoy feasts? What of those who write song and play on the stages, teaching us all that is to be alive?”
The anger in her breast lived a long life for how easily it riled her up.
Velandra closed her eyes for a moment and breathed. “For some life will be easier; others, harder. Yet all the talents I have seen and will see on this day, of them not one is trash. I shall proclaim such that even throughout my Accord, and to the lands beyond, there is not ONE PERSON deserving of such a rancorous title!” Where the sovereign went, even a modest showing of intent weighed like a mountain. A pressure of presence not born of deliberate intent, but simply the sheer enormity that was her. “For this is how tradition has failed us all. It proclaims a path to peace, always paved by blood and bone. Indeed, if one judged a fish by how it could walk on land, it would always be trash. Yet a fish in water lives excellently, does it not?”
No one answered the rhetorical question.
Perhaps, at that point, she stood too tall for such an occasion. Velandra waved her hand with a marked more measure of gentleness. “I say this, but I have soured the air. I thank you for this demonstration, Kimimi of Gajjan.”
“I wish to thank the heavenly sovereign for the boon of such wisdom!” Kimimi shouted, fist in hand. Velandra blinked and beheld the girl, whose very soul seemed alight with some sort of epiphany. “What she says truly are the words of the Heavens!”
To her even greater surprise, the many other talents—martial or not—echoed similar words. The spectators themselves soon mirrored it, and the entirety of the arena praised her in a thunderous applause. Velandra stared incredulously for a long moment before raising her hand with a wry smile. I rather do not understand what is so praiseworthy about it, but very well. In the end, it was nothing more than refuting the fallacious ‘truth’ traditionalists upheld. It took a minute longer for the people to calm down enough.
“I will say this much. Far to the West, beyond Aochen, and Aerthen itself, there is a craftswoman of eccentric creations. Of her colorful devices, I did see one that held lightning inside itself. The smallest of small streaks that could be called lightning, but it was it all the same. It harnessed such power to create a … lightbulb, as it was called.” Velandra wasn’t too sure how much what she saw could fit into words. It truly defied description without the experience. “Imagine a lantern brighter than a hot flame, yet cold as glass. It could light up in an instant, and quiet just as fast. Until then I had believed lightning only a destructive power; an ultimate weapon. Only then, did I realize how small my understanding of our world could be.”
Velandra folded her hands together inside her sleeves. “Such a creation took a brilliant mind to realize, I will admit. But, to you, and to all you who are here on this day, let it serve a useful lesson. What may be useless today, may be tomorrow’s greatest innovation. If there is no one who will realize your talent, then realize it for yourself. It will be difficult beyond measure, but that is life. I say now, the day is short and there are still many left to show their excellency. Let us give them their fair chance.”
Velandra returned to her seat, Himochi and Jouhu busy going at it again with each other over something inane. Donlao, however, had the air of someone with an intent.
“It was good to share such words, great sovereign.”
“Oh?” Velandra couldn’t help casting a curious look upon his back. “I am surprised it is worthy of your praise.”
“There is much wisdom in the old ways that deserves respect. There is also much that deserves a decent pruning. It is not enough to simply prune for its own sake, one must understand what is being cut, and why.”
“Such a timid observation would certainly be too radical for your fellows to hear, secretary Donlao.”
“Heh.”
So even the impassive Donlao could laugh. Velandra could not fault him, studious as he was to the ways of his path. “Xiaomei, I believe refreshments are in order.”
“They are already being prepared, and will arrive shortly.”
“Good.”
And so, the proceedings continued on. A liveliness filled the air that wasn’t quite there before, a tension having disappeared. Velandra saw it plain enough in the talents and their displays, something that made the rest of the day far more comfortable. True to her words not one she saw desired such terrible scorn, for they each possessed something useful to the Accord. It may not be the dreamy lifestyle often dreamed of, nor the ones recorded in plays, but it would be a living. If they sought more than that, then they needed the drive to reach higher into the Heavens.
If they would fail, let them fail when trying for greatness.
What Velandra herself didn’t realize at the time, nor for quite some time afterward, would be the power of words. Her anger carried through the populace, transformed by reverence and awe into an almost divine inspiration. ‘No one is trash’ flew off so many tongues, while those who lauded themselves supreme spat upon such words. Their vile utterances became a poison among noble ears, laughing at the Accord for its very act of acceptance. Yet, those once passed over soon found employ and grew in their own ways. It was not a singular grand tree that was being cultivated, but an enormous garden—a forest, a wilderness of vast and differing natures. Alone, no family nor sect cared to give them any regard.
Together, however, the Accord would grow that much more powerful.