Bonds of the Fallen

“Val, there’s a group of mortals protesting our festival outside the embassy,” Einar said, his face set in a severe expression.

Val listened as Einar relayed the news of the growing unrest outside their embassy’s walls. A deep sigh escaped him, a sound carrying the weight of centuries and untold burdens.

“Why must I, once again, preside over this festival?” Val mused, motioning for them to make their way towards the unrest. “Let’s see if we can understand their grievances before they descend into chaos.”

“As the Sire of the Fallen, it is your sacred duty to oversee these ancient rites,” Einar intoned, his voice a steady backdrop to the distant, passionate cries from the crowd outside. “An age-old pact binds our kind and these mortals. Their prosperity, and ours, is interwoven in the fabric of this agreement. We offer them a chance to ascend beyond the limitations of their mortality, protecting them from the shadows that threaten to snatch away their innocence.”

Val chuckled, a rich, warm sound, as he listened to Einar’s practiced speech.

His role as the ceremonial overseer of the Festival of Valor was entrusted to him ages ago. As time passed, the position slowly eroded the fierce vitality that once defined Val, leaving in its wake a lingering fatigue that seeped into his very soul. Einar, always the steady pillar of support, advocated for Val’s cause with an occasionally irritating brand of charm.

“Your wisdom isn’t lost on me,” Val agreed, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as the weight of his duties bore down on him. “But time has left me weary. We aim to appease the gods and shield the mortal realm from their volatile games. Among the gods are those who delight in oppressing mortals, seeing them as amusements to be discarded once their novelty wears off.”

“While you may have distanced yourself from the gods, seeking solace in the realms, our actions have invariably tipped the scales toward balance,” Einar noted, halting in his steps as they descended to the embassy’s lower floors.

“I haven’t ignored their suffering, Einar. In my way, I’ve offered them my protection and kindness.”

A thoughtful silence fell between them before Einar spoke again. “But choosing not to participate in the rite of the fallen speaks of your reluctance to immerse yourself in their world fully. Your distance keeps them from truly understanding the depths of your soul.”

“The bonds that connect me to the fallen are stronger than any ceremonial act. They are my family, whether I participate in the rite or not. They know me. They understand my soul, as you call it.”

“You’ve managed to navigate this complex situation with grace, Val. But as your friend, I must point out the inconsistencies in your argument. It’s as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out at a distant horizon hidden from you by the perpetual twilight.” Einar examined Val before continuing, “It’s like a treasure chest filled with priceless jewels, the lid sealed tight, and the key lost to the mists of time,” Einar said.

Val laughed. “You’re comparing me to an old, rusty chest now. Is that it?”

Einar shook his head. “Not at all. I mean, there are secrets in this realm that are hidden even from us. A brave soul may unlock that chest, revealing the stunning treasures hidden inside.” A playful smile curled on Einar’s lips.

As they walked towards the embassy’s front doors, the crowd’s noise became louder and more intense. Val was no stranger to protests, but this one felt different. He could sense the anger and fear radiating from the protesters as they shouted. The moment Val and Einar stepped through the doors, the clamor from the outside world flooded their senses.

Val’s gaze met that of a woman who pushed herself to the forefront of the crowd. “How can I assist you?” Val questioned, his tone unwavering.

The woman stepped forward, her gaze locked with his. “We want you gone. We don’t need your festivals, your ceremonies, or your interference. We want to live our lives without you in it.”

Val’s chest tightened slightly. He had always believed that their festival brought nothing but growth and prosperity, but opposition was a frequent companion to change.

“I understand your concerns, but our only goal is to assist you,” Val’s voice rose above the crowd’s shouts.

But the woman shook her head vehemently. “You don’t understand what it’s like. Our homes are destroyed, your ceremony tears apart our families, and you promise prosperity? At what cost? Our dignity? Our freedom? Our lives?”

“We were invited here.”

With a step back, the woman held Val’s gaze. “You’ve done enough damage. It’s time for you to leave.” Turning to the crowd, she raised her voice. “The New God won’t tolerate your kind. He’ll wipe your existence from our world!”

At that moment, the rhythmic sound of heavy boots hitting the pavement echoed through the air. The Harii, a formidable army, approached, their presence silencing the crowd.

Val’s voice sliced through the thick tension. “Stand down. Let them speak. We will listen and find a solution together.”

A serene calm surrounded Val as he stepped further into the brewing storm, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

“We are allies in this pursuit for peace and coexistence. The festival and rites are how we gift you prosperity and strength. We have no desire to control, only to uplift.”

His eyes swept across the crowd, meeting each gaze - some skeptical, others fearful, and a few defiant. His intense gaze once again locked with the woman’s.

“We are not your enemy. The true enemy hides in the shadows, waiting to strike at your weakest. We are your shield against that darkness, the wall between you and those who wish you harm.”

The crowd, once a boiling pot of anger, paused. Val’s words hung in the air, an offering of a different perspective or warning.

The woman’s eyes flicked to the Harii and back to Val. The silent presence of the warriors was a reminder of the power that Val and his kind wielded.

With a steady voice, Val spoke again. “We are here for dialogue, to understand your grievances and work towards a solution. We are not here to impose but to offer our assistance and protection. Let the shadows of fear and mistrust dissipate. Let us unite in our common goal for a brighter future.”

A hush fell over the crowd as they processed Val’s words. Ever so gradually, the tension began to dissipate, like the retreating fog on a winter morning. Heads nodded in reluctant acceptance, shoulders relaxed from their defensive postures, and the sea of hostility ebbed, giving way to the shores of a potential accord. The woman who had addressed him met his gaze again, a flicker of anger and defiance marring her features.

With a final nod to the crowd, Val turned on his heel, Einar falling into step beside him as they made their way back towards the embassy. The Harii fell into formation behind them.

A nondescript object skittered across the cobblestones, resting at Einar’s feet. Einar stooped to retrieve the thing—a small notebook whose leather cover had seen better days. He turned the soft, supple leather over in his hands.

“What have you there?” Val inquired as they returned to the sanctuary of the top floor of the embassy.

“It appears to be the possession of one of the human auxiliaries,” Einar replied, thumbing through the worn pages.

A glint flashed in Val’s eyes as he extended his hand. “I have an audience with Ilka later today to discuss the infrastructure progress for the reservoir and the farmlands. She oversees the auxiliaries assigned to this location. I will see it returned to its rightful owner.”

With a chuckle, Einar relinquished the notebook into Val’s waiting hand. “And will you retreat to your office, or do you intend to grace the masses below with your presence?” His laughter echoed in the long hallway. He already knew the answer. “I’ll see you later.” He called over his shoulder as he took his leave.

Val’s footsteps echoed off the marble floors as he went to his office. Val pushed open the door and stepped inside, positioning himself behind the desk. Val unfurled the notebook and was immediately captivated by the sketches and scribbles that adorned its pages. The contents within were teeming with a collection of enigmatic symbols, cryptic script, and renderings of celestial entities that straddled the knowledge of the realms. Val found himself adrift in an undercurrent of wonder and curiosity as he navigated the intricate inner workings of the notebook’s pages.