Chapter 112: Greeting The Counsel

Chapter 112: Greeting The Counsel

Thankfully, we are left alone for a good long while after the whole brouhaha. More than enough for Moon Unit to stop looking a little unhinged, though she still steals little side glances when she thinks I'm not looking. Bother bother bother bother. I think my behavioral baseline is slipping a bit. At least, around people I trust. Which is kinda annoying when it dips beyond their tolerance margins. Still... Some useful data had been collected.

"Out of curiosity, would it be surprising to you to learn that our last victim was not affiliated with the rest?" - I offer after a bit of silence - "That guy whose head I bit off was concerned a lot with not being seen by the others. If his memories are of any indication, right until we wrecked the first crew, he was more afraid of them than of us. Of course, once we did lay down the hurt, that got quickly amended. Still, he was kinda certain they'd kill him on the spot if they'd see him."

Moon Unit sighs. "I'm reasonably sure the guy you bit the head off was Romeo of Montecchi. One of the few survivors of the clan that tried to kidnap me to begin with." - she offers after a few seconds of silence - "I have no doubt he was there to see if he could grab me or stab me before clan Capulet got their mitts on me. Speaking of, the one who ran off is Tybalt."

I...blink. Then blink again. Shakespeare now? Good grief, do the references ever end?... And if not, then I am morbidly curious what the references to russian literature are going to be, given that russian is orkish in this world. Still... I just have to ask.

"Now I'm morbidly curious. Why are those guys at each other's throats so much?" - I quip - "Let me guess, cherchez la femme?"

Moon Unit snorts. "Got it on one, dear." - she snarks back - "About two hundred years ago, Tybalt and Romeo both were making advances towards spinner Juliette. Imagine, two milksops barely thirty vying for the attentions of matron crossing off her fifth century. Of course she told them to go and grow up a little before coming back with proposals. Each of them assumed 'grow up a little' means 'kill your rival', and went at it. Both are kids of their respective clan heads, you can imagine what happened next. The idiots had been feuding ever since over just about anything under the sun."

"So..." - I drawl, trying to wrap my mind about it - "They're at the stage of 'doesn't matter what started it, the feud is what is important'?"

"Maybe." - my dear waifu grumbles - "But I wouldn't put it past the idiots to STILL be hung up on who gets to propose to Juliette. Snagging a conclave seat does sound like good proof of being grown up to some people."

"Wait, what?" - I stumble - "Didn't you say it was two hundred years ago? Is that Juliette still around?"

"Regarding young Moon Unit's theory regarding your, well... being..." - she continues - "Considering the revelations already given and testimonies of our brethren, we do believe there is merit in investigating further. To be entirely frank, we do not have any established procedure to verify such an outstanding claim, but our venerable spinners are very excited about the potential possibilities and have had devised a number of things to attempt that would allow us to make a judgment whether the theory is true or false. To begin with, Dweezil and Sparrow Jack had regaled us with a tale of World Tree name revelation, and they spoke of a deeply profound language you have spoken then. But there is just no comparison between being told about it and hearing it with one's own ears..."

She trails off meaningfully. Oh? Well then. "I don't mind, but be warned that just hearing this is liable to defile anyone who isn't defiled already." - I warn - "I will take no responsibility for anyone driven insane by that."

Elves exchange wary looks, but no one seems to be interested in leaving. After a few tense moments, Tamaya gives me a sharp nod. "Your warning has been heard and understood, lady Gillespie." - she confirms crisply - "Everyone in the room understands the risks and bears responsibility for staying."

Well, they asked. "YOU-THIS-NOW-GATHERING, THE NAME/REFERENCE/MONIKER/POINTER TO TREE/DATABUS/STRUCTURE/CONNECTION OF THIS-HERE-NOW-SPECIFIC-WORLDSLICE IS YGGDRASIL. " - I tell them in conceptual.

A number of elves fall off their chairs immediately. Several fainted, while the rest are slowly clambering to their feet. About half of them are swaying like they're drunk. Out of those who remained seated, many faces had grown pale, pinched or clenched. Really? Notably, Moon Unit is entirely unaffected, and Dweezil is weathering it easily. I guess exposure is the key here. Then Moon Unit throws a big wobbly their way.

"YOU-THIS-SPECIFIC-ENTIRETY, WHAT DO YOU-THIS-SPECIFIC REFER/CALL/CONSIDER/SEE THIS-PARTICULAR-ME-SINGULAR?" - she requests in a simplish, yet decent conceptual. Moon Unit, come on...

"THIS-HERE-YOU-SPECIFIC IS/CONSIDERED/ACCEPTED/DESIRED WIFE/BELOVED/SPOUSE/FAMILY/LOVER." - I reply wryly, sending more elves toppling. I'm guessing no one is going to dispute our relationship after this.

It takes a while for the pandemonium to settle down. I am implored by Tamaya not to speak anymore conceptual, and about two-thirds of attendees are carted outside and settled in the chairs next to the pond. The rest seem to be made of sterner stuff, but still most sport the tell-tale signs of 'I just witnessed something deeply shaking', except Dweezil, who is instead sporting a half-exasperated, half-bemused look. I guess the second time around is not quite hard-hitting. Or maybe he simply knew exactly what to expect and was able to prepare mentally when no one else could.

I wonder what next. Do we wait for counsel to recover, or... Nevermind, here comes the distraction. There is a commotion at the doors, and then we see the jackass who run away barging in, along with several other elves carrying something oblong. "Brethren! A foul murder had been committed!" - he shouts with played-up gravitas, glaring at me in the same time. No guesses as to whom he holds as the main suspect.