Serial
19: Never say no
December,
3rd 32 S.D. 01:18 Sevia, Central Plains
Losha, inspired by the near limitless potential of her abilities as a serialist, had increasingly taken bolder and bolder steps to achieve her goal. Alone, she had devised a number of steps that would eventually form her grand plan. The first step, as it was with any mission, was to procure intelligence before the actual operation. For that, she needed to travel very little in fact. All of her reconnaissance took place within the comforts of home. Since her brother and father, per Torom business, were chiefly involved with the war effort, she had only to look to them for information. Both men, however, were of no mind to give her a single bit of data about anything concerning the coming battles. That one minor detail was scarcely enough to stop her though. After all, she had other means at her disposal.
Ever since King had exposed the many facets of serialization to her, both its noble and base applications, Losha had been considering all the things serialization could be, things she had never once given thought to. Weaponry, transportation, medicine, and apparently it was excellent for espionage. Late at night, she would sneak out of bed and creep about the house. Using a host of different series, all at the point of margins to avoid casting any light, Losha maneuvered stealthily through her own estate.
To deaden her footsteps, she performed a series that created a kinetic forcefield over the ground before her. Though this invisible path were solid in a sense, it hovered a mere centimeter above the actual floor. As it was, she could thus move in complete silence. Despite the fact that she had only been home a month, Losha had already learned which doors in their house were in dire need of oil. While she avoided them more often than not, at times she was forced to go through one. It would have been simple enough to oil them herself, but a serialist of her level found it even more trivial to deal with it using the art. For these, she placed another kinetic forcefield around the hinges, a stronger one that blocked all sound. In doing this, she could swing the door as freely as she pleased; it wouldn’t make a peep.
As for the matter of the absolute darkness around her, she had learned from Denze his third-eye technique. Though the series itself required a bit of fine-tuning and practice to ‘see’ in extremely low-light situations, she was beginning to get the hang of its mechanics. Along with these aforementioned series, Losha also constantly measured the seras frequencies of her family. They were like pings against her own soul, thus if she concentrated, she could perceive the distance and placement of everyone in the household. This was most helpful to make sure that she only acted when everyone had truly gone to bed.
Tonight, she was yet again slipping into her father’s office. Harle’s office was just as well raided, however, she’d yet to extract a key piece of info that she couldn’t begin without. She entered the room swiftly. Her presence was not unlike a ghost’s: smooth, silent, sudden. In the thick dimness, her third-eye scanned everything thoroughly, however, by now she was so familiar with this routine that she could sense the layout without relying on serialization. The third-eye was not so perfect yet as to let her read in pitch blackness, so to actually make out the various documents scattered over the place, some illumination was required. Losha held out her index finder and cast a simple series at its end to generate a faint light, a glow really. It would serve her while producing the least amount of excess brightness. Such a measure was paranoid to be sure, but she saw the wisdom in caution.
Taking a mental picture of how her father’s desk was arranged, Losha began sifting through its contents, slowly and gently. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much that she hadn’t already plundered. She sighed nigh breathlessly as it became more and more evident by the minute that the information wasn’t here, at least not in plain sight. Her suspicions kept telling her that the locked drawer of the desk, the only part she’d yet to explore, held the answers. As carefully as she could, she picked up the chair and moved it back a bit. Kneeling, she pointed at the lock, examining it by the pale blue radiance of her seras.
The concept was simple: use a series to move the lock parts with kinetic energy. Of course she’d practiced beforehand, but not on locks of that smallness; it was no bigger than her thumbnail. Still, the principles had to be the same, didn’t they? At any rate, it only took her a few attempts to get the lock undone. She slid the draw out by degrees, easing and coaxing it from its hold. Part by part, it was drawn until at last enough was pulled away. Immediately Losha inspected what laid inside, taking much effort to make no noise.
Her search was about to prove fruitless still, however, her hand stumbled over a curious envelope. With quiet dexterity, she took the item out and opened it single-handedly. The pile of papers therein, upon closer notice, were exactly the sort of documents she’d been looking for. These articles in question contained valuable details pertaining to troop deployments - present and future - as well as enlistments of all those in Sventa who had registered to fight. Most important among all of the papers, a large sum of notes explained the battle strategies they would use, the sites of battle analysts had anticipated, and estimates of Henron’s movements. Though she really couldn’t take the papers for herself, she did the best she could to memorize everything she’d seen. Some time later, she would copy what she remembered into her own writings.
For at least an hour and a half, Losha steeped herself in this priviledged knowledge. However, she could not do so indefinitely. Her apprehensions caused her to sense even the faintest disturbance in the surrounding seras frequencies, and each second she spent in her father’s office, the risk of discovery seemingly doubled. Finally, she put everything away, reshuffling the items as if they had never been disturbed. As soundlessly as she had come, so too did she exit. Returning to her room, Losha now had all of the parts necessary for her plan.
The Sofos were a minor clan that lived among the Sventa. For generations their peoples had shared a close and almost sacred bond. Harle and Teiva’s marriage was fair proof of how freely they mingled, and to Losha they were in her mind yet another branch in the extensive Sventa family. For all of that though, the Sofos were really their own distinct entity. To begin, they were not represented in the Tabran. Their culture varied in several ways, such as their governance by a single matriarch and their preference for left-handedness. They also had a rather strange manner of speaking in that they never used the Asten command form of verbs, for whatever reason Losha knew not.
At any rate, the relationship between Sofos and Sventa was both long and deep. As such, it was not necessary to maintain that friendship through much effort, yet a little bit a diplomacy now and then never hurt anything. At Losha’s request, she had called upon her brother and father to arrange a visit to Marila Sofos, the current leader of her clan and also the mother of one of her frequent childhood playmates, Savi Sofos. They were, through her brother’s marriage, cousins of a sort now. Teiva was Marila’s niece after all.
Harle and her father found nothing objectionable in her asking, and in fact they greatly desired it themselves. They still imagined - and rightly so - that Losha yet harbored ideas of fighting Henron. Though they didn’t know how far along her designs were coming, nor that this visitation was all a part of her scheme, to the both of them this trip seemed like a way to draw her farther from the conflict. Sadly, they were quite mistaken, for if Losha truly had her way, it would do exactly the opposite.
Lesia and Mavont consented to let her spend three weeks with Marila and the Sofos. The Sofos did not live so differently from the rest of Sventa. Their houses were domes as well. Their style of clothes were identical. Not the least of all, their general mannerisms were a copy of her own. She wondered if all Astens were so similar, and if so, what point was there in all the inter-clan violence that plagued the plains? What had the Shevi and Sofos learned about coexistence that doggedly eluded both Sventa and Henron?
At any rate, it was like staying over at any other relative’s house. Though things in general remained familiar over at the Sofos’, the people she came to visit were largely strangers to her. Savi had been a good friend to Losha long ago, but 13 years had changed both of them. Of course there was joy upon their meeting, but in all honesty they were rather like two new people meeting for the first time. While it would have been nice to say that Losha would restrengthen the bond that they once shared, she hadn’t come there to do that. She still tried to regain as much of their former relationship as possible, but it wasn’t a priority. This was a great shame, for Savi seemed very genuinely enthused by the return of such a long lost friend. In the back of her mind, Losha promised to make a serious effort to become Savi’s companion once again, just as soon as this ridiculous war came to a close. In the meantime, Losha did her best to reciprocate Savi’s own interest in her.
Virel, Marila’s youngest daughter, a mere child no more older than Mesel, took great fascination with Losha, for reasons no one quite knew why. The little girl was practically enamored with Losha, always coming up to her and wanting to spend time with her or ask questions about her life. Losha could hardly fathom why she had drawn Virel’s attention, but she nonetheless indulged the kid, sometimes at Savi’s expense. It wasn’t as if Losha minded all of these interactions, but she always considered her focus as residing elsewhere. She spent the first week peacefully in their company and hospitality, but as the second week began to open, a certain date approached and with it a time-frame for her actions.
After dinner one night, Losha politely, discreetly, requested Marila’s audience in private. Even if Losha weren’t a member of the most powerful branch in all Sventa - and a member of its Torom no less - Marila possessed a kind, motherly soul and could nowise refuse Losha. It was somewhat an awkward meeting though, since Losha had only ever seen Marila briefly as a child. Despite whiling a week in her presence, Losha still could not judge how the woman would react to her proposal. Only one way could reveal that: she would simply have to ask. In one of Marila’s personal chambers, the two of them sat down and so began their conversation.
“I hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight. I was afraid my little Virel would not let you have a bite to eat in between all of her questions,” Marila laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I do appreciate your being so... tolerant of her behavior. It seems she is quite taken with you.”
“Please think nothing of it. I suppose she just wants the attention of someone older than she is. I imagine I must have been the same with Teiva years ago.”
“Sa, I remember now, how ‘clingy’ you two were. It made Savi quite jealous at times too.”
“I never knew...” Losha trailed off, but Marila just smiled.
“Now then, sa, I know you did not come to me to speak of such little matters. I am a mother after all, and I can see the seriousness crafted behind your eyes.”
Losha nodded, somewhat relieved at Marila’s keen insight. It saved her from setting the tone of the discussion herself. “May I close the door before we continue?”
“Sa. I want that you should tell Virel off to bed though.”
Losha remained puzzled at her words, but only for a short time. As she closed the door, she noticed the fleeting image of a small girl scampering around the corner. Losha had forgotten to keep track of the surrounding seras frequencies as of late. As she checked quickly, indeed Virel had been sneaking nearby. Had the child meant to eavesdrop? Regardless, Marila’s maternal radar proved more effective that Losha’s arts in this case.
“She just ran off,” Losha said as she turned around.
“One wonders how I am to lead our clan and raise such a girl,” Marila said. “Now, Losha, what was it you wished to talk about?”
“Sa,” Losha said, taking up her seat again. “I am certain you have heard about the war that is building up between Henron and Sventa.”
Marila nodded. “Sa, it is all some of us every speak of these days.”
“I do not know your opinions on the war, but I myself find it a most reprehensible course of action. It is nothing more than a continuation of the needless bloodshed that has made our lands dangerous and backwards for centuries. It is typical Asten history repeating itself all over yet again, history that has been the bane of all the Central Plains. I shall not suffer to see it rise and burn both my loved ones and even our ‘enemies’ who are just as loved by their own families.”
“You are very noble for one of your age Losha. I see that you hold firm both ideals and conviction. But those alone make one nothing more than wishful at best and cliched at worst. I want that we should all live in peace too, but that is all but fanciful whim without the power to affect anything.”
Losha frowned as her eyes cast downward and to the side. “Is that really what everyone talks about? Power?” Losha said, not exactly directed at Marila. All the people she had spoken to thus far - Denze, Harle, her father, and now the matriarch of the Sofos clan - had brought the subject up. Even so, she shook her head and looked up.
“I do not understand what you mean to say,” Marila said.
“I do not have the luxury to consider myself powerless, thus it is by necessity that I act to halt these needless aggressions.”
Marila blinked twice, then she drew a breath and sighed. “I fear I must say you are a bit misguided, child. Granted, you are a daughter of the Holvate Torom, the most influential branch in all of Sventa, and I am the venerable matriarch of my people, if you intend to cease this war with our combined political strength, I am afraid you will be as disappointed as I am. I have no want for this conflict, yet we must admit that our voices, though noteworthy, are not enough to sway everyone, let alone the entire Tabran.”
For a moment, Losha digested what the woman had said to her, but after that she simply shook her head and laughed. Marila, unaware of the cause for such a response, raised her eyebrow sharply.
“Pardon me, it is just that I never once thought of my being a Holvate as an advantage to my aims. In fact, I had not even considered using the clout my family recently inherited. That is not the sort of power I speak of.”
Marila leaned back and crossed her legs. She put her index finder up to the side of her face. “And now I understand even less.”
“You have heard of my great absence, no doubt?”
“Sa.”
“Let us just say that in that time, I have become more capable than even our best fighters.”
“In all honesty Losha, I would find that hard to believe. I am a good judge of people; it is something in which I pride myself very much. You do not strike me as a warrior.”
“In that, you are quite correct. I am no warrior. I have yet to claim to be one. I am, however, something better.”
Marila’s mouth worked for a bit before she spoke. “Such cryptic speech,” she mused. “Even if I should assume what you say is true, what purpose has drawn you to me?” she asked earnestly.
“Well,” Losha started. “Father and Harle have barred my participation in the war.”
“And not without due reason. They see it as no place for you, and in that choice I must agree.”
“I do not wish for you to persuade them otherwise. In fact, I do not care for their or anyone’s opinions.”
“Sa? Is that so?”
“I do, however, care that they at least think I am obeying them.”
Marila folded her arms and looked pointedly at Losha. “You intend to join the forces, even against the will of those who love you? Albeit without their knowing it?”
“Precisely,” Losha said with a grin. “And to do that, I am going to need your help.”
“As I suspected. And what leads you to believe I would render aid to you in this endeavor?” Marila asked.
“You have yet to say ‘no’, and that much is promising. Regardless, I am sure you will find my plan very palatable to say the least.”
“I can assure you there is little in this world that could please me so much as to let you go to war, especially when so many interests are opposed.”
“Even Zelin Sofos?”
Marila looked up quickly, speaking rapidly. “What about Zelin?” she asked warily.
“She is enlisted in the second division of our militia forces. However, she has rather poor health.”
“It is hereditary...” Marila said, eying Losha with a hint of suspicion. “It is an acute disease, at least its symptoms are.”
“Yet she is to wage battle despite her conditions.”
“Sa, she is one of our best swords. Naturally, when Sventa mobilizes to fight, so do we. It has been our tradition and a matter of honor between our two clans. The Sofos support the fighting with a handful of our strongest without question. ”
“Except your choices, unlike in previous generations, are slim. You cannot afford to send someone unskilled in Zelin’s place, nor can you withhold her for fear of offending Sventa.”
A slight frown crept over Marila’s faces as her gaze turned downwards. Losha pushed herself to the edge of her seat, her hands clasped together; she stared directly at the matriarch as she spoke.
“Zelin probably puts up a brave front, but I am sure you and she know survival is unlikely, given the severity of her sickness. Try as she might to hide it, she is in truth too weak to fight. Effectively, a beloved member of your family will die due to mere politics.” Losha waved her hand almost flippantly at those last two words. It was enough to see Marila wince, if ever so slightly.
“Would that I could give her the rest and peace she deserves, but it is not within my say to do so.”
“Sa, yet it is.”
“What do you speak of? I desire not to send her at all, but circumstances bid me to.”
“You will simply send me in her place.”
Marila glanced over at the wall for a moment. “You realize what you ask of me, do you not? You want that I should deceive the house of Holvate, breaching the trust our clans have established for countless ages, and permit one of its daughters to brave the fray under the constant threat of death or casualty, all to selfishly save one of my own kind. Losha,” she said turning back to her. “I am personally acquainted with your father. To do such things, to conspire so behind his back makes this betrayal all the more treacherous. If this naive idea of yours runs afoul, I cannot bear to think of the censure Sofos would endure, nor could I force myself to think of what may become of you.”
“It matters not to me whether you agree to do me this favor. I will join this fight, either in disguise or outright as a rogue element. There is not a thing anyone can do at this point. The first engagements with the clan of Henron are expected to happen early next week. I will be there, I will end this conflict, and I can promise you I shall not die.”
Marila pinched her left temple as she frowned in contemplation. Finally she said “ksh!” as she stood up and walked to the window. She looked onwards into the vast night.
“Have you come to an answer?”
Marila clasped her hands together behind her waist. “As of tomorrow, I will have deemed Zelin Sofos deathly ill and incompetent for battle. In her stead, I have chosen to send a distant relative of ours, Dansha Sofos.”
“And just who is Dansha Sofos?”
“She is no one and will be no one should she fail to report at her deployment.”
“And what will say when others see that I am missing, or if Holvate should inquire about me?”
“I will inform all immediately exactly what you have done: that you have run away. I will say as much if I do not find you in our presence. Whether you avoid detection, and whether you actually do battle of not... Well, you are a woman and an adult, a very unwise one if I may say, but capable of your own decisions.”
At least Marila hadn’t said “no”.
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Subscribe
Flag Writing