Serial
80: Houses divide
March 19th, 33 S.D. 18:02 Sevia, Sventa
The discussion quickly grew impassioned after Losha arrived. Though she had managed to bring some measure of order to the Tabran, a low, rumbling wave of discontent persisted. With a flick of her finger, she changed the orbs in the chandelier to a more natural white light. The chamber was now brighter than it had ever been. Among their seats, Tabran representatives grumbled and scowled with expressions clearly visible under her series. She’d thought the matter would be cut and dry, but she plainly saw a number of them opposed to her views.
“Members of the Tabran,” the moderator called out. “Who will address this forum next?” A man seated close to one of the walkways stood up and came over to the center. “Alright Velka Fovir Sventa, speak your piece.”
Velka turned towards his peers while Losha and the moderator stood off to the side. “Sventa, these happenings are most favorable to us. I propose we simply let the Henron be. Let them weaken themselves from within. A civil conflict will ruin them and their ability to assault our people. Even if these supporters of the old Henron regime win, they will be far too battered to do anything to us. I say we let them fight amongst themselves and see who emerges victorious. Either way, we shall have our peace.”
A round of cheers and applause followed. Losha frowned, finding these results disagreeable. She moved to step forward, but the moderator held out his arm and blocked her.
“You must let the rest have their say as well.”
“I understand,” Losha said, not without some discomfort.
“Have you anything more to say, Ver Velka?”
“No,” Velka replied, shaking his head as he returned to his place.
“Alright, who is next? Sa, you, Tharis Sante Sventa, please come down.” A slight, middle-aged woman shuffled along another walkway and took the stage.
“My fellow Sventa, nothing can be so odious as this truce that has been suggested. I need not remind you all what we have been forced to suffer through because of the Henron. How many of our loved ones have they stolen from us? Let us not forget that it was them that invaded our lands and traumatized our people. Leitis, Totul, Valia: these incidents are etched into our memories. They attack us, now they ask for our aid? Because of them, I have lost both a son and a daughter. Would we stain the memory and honor of our families by simply waving a hand and forgiving every trespass the Henron have taken against us? I greatly esteem Ver Holvate and the sacrifices she has made on our behalf, but this is something even the kindest of us cannot ignore. Whatever we decide, it must not be to join with them. The Henron have brought nothing but agony upon us all.” Again the crowd clapped in a show of solidarity as many nodded and spoke loudly in agreement.
“You must yet withold yourself,” the moderator whispered to Losha while Tharis returned to her seat. Next up, a tall man with a cleanly shaved head made his way down. His face was adorned with a single, large scar that ran vertically down the left side, even going through his lips.
“Kavar Ason Sventa, you have the stage.”
“Thank you,” Kavar said; his voice was deep and slow. “Brothers and sisters, children of Sventa, I will not mince words with you tonight. There is only one true way to ensure peace. We must strike Henron while they are at their most vulnerable. We will deal them a blow so devastating, never again will they think to intimidate or defy our kind!”
Kavar raised his fists at the Tabran, to which many a member loudly burst into approval. The moderator, much to Losha’s dismay, did nothing about the growing, hawkish mood. Kavar waited a bit for the chorus to die down.
“If we want them to leave us alone, we must show them their proper place. Any relationship between our clans in the future must be predicated on their defeat. If we beat them down now, we can ensure that they will never rise to challenge us again. We have to strike both sides, loyalists and rebels alike. We will have no other moment such as this. The time is ours to bring Henron to its knees.”
By then, several others in the Tabran had stood up, pumping their clenched hands above their heads. They boisterously pronounced their support as a roar echoed back and forth. Seeing the reaction, Kavar but cast a slight grin to himself before proceeding with the rest of his speech.
“If we can weaken them at their very hearts, in the core of their homeland, we will rid ourselves of their threats once and for all. If we go into Henron with the full force of all three divisions, nothing will stand in our way. They are divided, thrown upon one another, while we stand firm as one people. Once we crush them, grind them into the plains themselves, they will not recover, not enough to attack us. Is it not long past due to show them the might of our clan? Is it not long past due that the world see why we are the dominant force in all of these lands? What is it that they say across the Continent? Sa, that we are the largest, the strongest, and the greatest of the Asten!”
Kavar had worked them up into a frenzy now, with some of the Tabran stamping their feet or pounding the armrests of their seats. More than a few people whooped into the air. Losha spun around, glancing from side to side. Her mouth dropped crookedly as she furrowed her brows in disbelief. Were all these unruly people truly the distinguished members of Sventa’s highest, most select society? Could these so-called officials be the very same group that directed all the clan’s major decisions? She knew things were different from her expectations, but here she found an absolute mockery of their proud government.
“This is simply astounding,” she whispered to herself against the backdrop of so many shouts. “Sheer madness.” She moved to take the floor again, but the moderator blocked her path.
“The sentiments of the Tabran are clear,” he said. “We will now move the topic on where to proceed from here.”
“You must be joking,” Losha responded. “We only had four people to the floor thus far, myself included. And after that you mean to tell me the debate is closed?”
“Do you hear them? Do you see them?” the moderator asked, waving a hand across the rows. “The Tabran is making itself very clear on this matter.”
“So, this is how the Tabran acts, choosing as a mob would...” Losha said, throwing a glare at the crowds. Her hand briefly tightened around the documents Albolt had written. “Ksh,” she said, tossing her head as she stepped past the moderator.
“Wait!” he cried. “You may be Torom of Holvate, but you cannot interfere with the meeting in this way!” He snatched at the end of her sleeve, but she pulled herself away.
“And you cannot interfere with me.” With that, Losha marched ahead and pushed a startled Kavar aside. She let go of the envelope, leaving it suspended as she cast a kinetic series over it. Afterwards, a blue glow enclosed both of her hands as she held her arms apart. Swiftly, she clapped her hands together in a sound like thunder.
“Enough!” she declared as another kinetic series came to life. A tempest billowed, radiating away from her in wild winds. A fierce gust whipped around the chamber, blowing everyone to a hush. The storm was quick and short, but once again Losha’s display of power had left all members breathless. Those that had been standing were now awkwardly thrown back into their seats. They could but stare blankly outward, perhaps stunned by the event or otherwise unable to process just what had happened. Kavar and the moderator fell on their backs and looked uneasily up at the serialist. She tossed her arms down to the side, and with that motion ceased the series all at once. Taking a moment to straighten herself up, she closed her eyes for a moment.
“That is quite enough. Would that you could see yourselves as you are. This is the noble chamber of the Tabran, and in your hands rests the fate of both kith and kin. Yet what do you do? Examine yourselves closely. Careful consideration, thorough discourse, and reasonable oration have given way to public mania. Where is there order here? Where is there restraint among your emotions? Perhaps I am simply unaccustomed to the way the Tabran works. Perhaps you all have forgotten something in meeting so often as of late. I can but say I am appalled by the behavior you have displayed before me.”
“What is the prevailing reaction to the Henron offer of peace? You holler and howl for blood. It is hardly any wonder that our lands, our homes, our people have endured conflict after conflict. The only solution you can ever offer is more of the same. More violence and hatred poured upon a world of warfare. Can any of you answer me? Is this truly how we are to solve our greatest problems?”
She held her hands out as if pleading for someone, anyone to come forward. Yet the once audacious crowds could now but muster silence. Losha glanced at them all, turning slightly around to face every row. Nevertheless, no one spoke. She folded her arms and shook her head.
“You wonder why the Central Plains suffer from so much strife, why this war with Henron ever began in the first place? The answer is here, in this chamber. It is people who clamor for more and more. You can claim to want to end these battles, but if your foremost choice is one of force, you simply perpetuate the larger issue. Does anyone honestly believe Henron will never attack again if we practically destroy them? That could not be farther from the truth. Maybe not this generation, or the next generation, or the next, but someday they will recover, and when they do, who will they turn their ire upon? Sventa, this is not the path to peace.”
With Losha’s grand speech coming to a lull, a woman with glasses stood up and hesitatingly talked from a distance. “Even... even if we agree to help Henron, why should we risk ourselves in their matters? Supposing the rebels lose because we do nothing, we can withdraw, isolate ourselves from Henron. If they attack again, the fault is with them, not us.”
“Yet, if we join them,” Losha countered, “we can prevent that scenario from happening in the first place. Is not that worth fighting for?”
“Sa, I suppose, but how can we trust Henron? How can you, Ver Holvate, do so after what they did to you?”
“I can trust them because I know they are people just like us. Everyone likes to spout nonsense about how different our clans are, as if clans were their own separate worlds. I see it everywhere across the Central Plains, the same repugnant line of thinking that draws us into wars, ‘our’ people and ‘their’ people. But when you stop and look, we are all Astens. Or are we Sventa the only ones who are human?”
“If that will not suffice, beside me I have brought along their formal proposal for an alliance. The rebels have given their word to uphold a cease-fire and ultimately stop the war, at least for the units they control. They want to form a new government and take themselves away from the likes of autocracy. This legal document will bind them to honor their position. For those yet skeptical, consider that we will have an overwhelming numerical advantage over Henron if they turn on us after after the loyalists are quelled. This bears the seal of the Henron court; it is as official as it can get. You must also remember, quite a few Henron must answer to me if they backtrack on anything.”
The members of the Tabran shifted in their seats, faintly talking to one another. A few moments later, a man stood up to her right. Seeing as the moderator was still floored, Losha took his place, raising her hand to subdue the crowd.
“Sa, you there. What have you to say?”
“Thank you, Ver Holvate. I am sure you know how odd it is to hear that we should trust those who have harmed us, for centuries no less. Having said that, I do believe you have a point. A call to arms has always been the solution, but after years of applying that tired policy, it looks to have solved very little. More of the same will not do any better than it already has. Peace does not come by attrition. At the very least, we can risk a new approach.”
Two women along with another man rose up as a group; Losha pointed to them. “Sa, you three.”
“We agree,” said one of the women, the eldest of the lot. “Perhaps the rest of you are too young to remember all the fighting Sventa has been through. Perhaps it is because of all these struggles so few of us remain who can recount them. Let me tell you this; Losha’s thinking is not incorrect. I have seen it with these eyes of mine. All we ever do is kill those who offend us, and in doing so we have established a lasting legacy of feuds. The problem repeats, and we are back to where we started, or worse. Sventa, change is indeed difficult, but it certainly cannot be harder than dying in yet another war.”
“Excuse me,” said a sharply dressed man seated close to one walkway, popping up all of a sudden.
“Sa, go ahead,” Losha nodded.
“I think we should consider the potential to set a new type of relationship with Henron. We could get them to leave our lands alone finally, now and in the future if we can come to an agreement. In helping the rebels, they will be in our debt. Losha Holvate has already helped to topple their tyrant; they owe us already. Furthermore, has not our trade suffered due to the war? Gandian merchants are scarce these days. If we can set the foundations for an amicable coexistence, we could also build ourselves as a reliable hub of foreign business. Not only that, we could have Henron as an economic partner, in time of course. Look at it this way, we have a chance to create a level of inter-clan stability that far exceeds anything seen thus far in the Central Plains. Peace, prosperity, and security could be ensured to a greater extent than we have yet known. I mean, imagine the possibilities afforded by having one less enemy in the world.”
Again, the Tabran spoke lowly to themselves, yet something was different now. Their attitude was no longer riotous, rather Losha sensed they were seriously reflecting on the choices put forth. Seeing this process, Kavar stood up at last, bringing the moderator up with him. He said something into the man’s ears for a bit. The moderator nodded and stepped forward, clearing his throat.
“Brothers and sisters of the Tabran,” he said. “It is clear we are at a crossroads now. Come then, let us decide upon the matter. We will take a vote to determine our course. Utter ‘Sa’ for the acceptance of the Henron’s proposed alliance. In that case we will study their offer in depth and how best to aid them, and what guarantees we might extract from them. Utter ‘Na’ to reject their plan and contemplate an alternative military option. We will adjourn for half an hour before holding the vote itself.”
Everyone moved from their seats, spreading out around the chamber, with some spilling into the Vental’s twisted hallway. Losha sighed to herself as she looked up at the chandelier once more, grabbing the envelope right next to her. She removed her orbs of light and used a kinetic series to set the candles aflame like before. She stared up at the ceiling for a while, unaware of those nearby until she felt a pair of arms wrap around her.
“Losha!” Lesia cried, quickly pressing their bodies together. “Losha!”
“Mother...” the serialist said as if suddenly surprised.
“We had no idea what had become of you! We were worried to no end for you!” Lesia said, shuddering even as she held her daughter.
“I... I apologize for running off as I did last year. But that was the only way I saw to put a stop to the war.”
“I do not care. I love you too dearly to lose you, not when you had just come home after so many years,” Lesia sniffed. “Damn this war... I just want my child.”
“Forgive me, mother,” Losha said, returning the hug.
“It has been too long once again, sister,” Harle said as he approached with a smile. “We knew you would make it back to us, but that hardly made the wait any better.”
“Harle... I see now what you and mother have had to put up with all this time. The Tabran is definitely not how I once envisioned it.”
“Sa,” Harle said, scratching beneath his chin. “This business is more wearisome than people realize.”
“Oh Losha,” Lesia said, holding her at length. “But look at you! How very bravely and eloquently you spoke. Proud and freely you have stood before some of the most powerful figures among us.” She stared at her daughter, beaming gently as her eyes watered and wavered.
“It was nothing, really now,” Losha replied, taking her mother’s hands into her own. “This is something I feel must be done. It is something that must be said. I am compelled to do everything within my abilities to... to change the way we live our lives. We cannot always be like this, tearing and screaming at each other. One day, we will have a different sort of world, one built on respect for all, not rivalries. That is the sort of home I would like to come back to.”
Harle reached out and put a firm grip on her shoulder. “You do that, Losha. You do whatever you need to do. We will stand beside you, beside the Wolf of Sventa.”
“A-are you calling me by that name too now?” Losha asked as Harle laughed out loud.
“Why? Are you surprised? Everyone calls you that. Or would you prefer Ver Losha Holvate?”
Losha frowned and shook her head. “No. I am hardly of such an age as to be distinguished by ‘Ver’, at least not that frequently.”
Again Harle laughed. “Knowing you, I can tell you honestly do not understand how people revere you as a hero these days.”
“A hero?” Losha exclaimed, cocking an eyebrow. “Notorious, I am sure, but that...?”
“Ah, my sweet Losha has been gone too long,” Lesia said.
“No, mother, she honestly does not realize how our clan views her. No matter, she will see for herself soon enough,” Harle said. Losha looked around the chamber for a while, spreading her eyes over the Tabran.
“Let us hope that I am hero enough to change their hearts.”
After 30 minutes had passed, everyone reassembled, taking their seats again. Losha sat with Lesia and Harle in a row close to the walkway. Although the number of Torom representatives had grown, each Torom could still cast but one vote in their name. There were 43 Toroms in all for the 200-plus people occupying the room. The moderator called on Toroms based on their approximate influence in Sventa, from least to greatest. This method came from the idea that people such as the Holvate should get the deciding vote on issues that split the Tabran.
“Torom of Beva, how do you answer?” the moderator called out. A representative stood up and spoke clearly.
“Sa!”
Afterwards, the moderator jotted down the result on a clipboard. “Torom of Leval, how do you answer?”
“Na!”
The process repeated. Initially, they looked to favor the Henron cease-fire, however, that lead gradually turned into a rather narrow race. Soon their majority flip-flopped with every other couple of votes. As the remaining Toroms dwindled, the math ultimately turned against Losha. With only a few Toroms left, even if they all voted ‘Sa,’ the tally would come up short for her. Eventually, but two Toroms were left to state their positions.
“Torom of Kelta, how do you answer?”
“Sa!”
Harle threw a pained glance at his sister. She stared ahead; her lips sealed themselves tautly together, as if suppressing a hidden scowl.
“Torom of Holvate, how do you answer?”
Harle frowned as he hung his head down shortly. Quickly enough, though, he raised himself up straight and responded. “Sa!”
“Then the matter is concluded. By a count of 20 to 23, the Tabran rejects Henron’s cease-fire and will continue the war accordingly.”
At that time Losha stood up and left her seat. Lesia grabbed her hand for an instant, but her grasp slipped away with Losha. She walked on past the moderator, aiming for the exit.
“And where do you think you are going?” he demanded.
“I am leaving,” Losha said, halting for now.
“Really? You think you can barge into here and leave at your pleasure?”
“I do not think you can stop me from doing so,” she said, turning to him sideways. “I have said my piece, and you have made your choice. Enjoy your war.” She flung the envelope at the moderator. It struck him flatly on the chest before plopping onto the floor. With that, Losha pivoted and strolled on out.
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