Chapter 68: Changes of Heart

Chapter 68: Changes of Heart

A man came up to the Caller and the Speaker one day, presenting himself before the pair with a plea for assistance. I am but a humble man, he said, and the levers of the world strive to crush me at every turn. I do not know whether it is wiser to ask that I be made greater or the world lesser, but I cannot proceed ahead as I am.

The first to respond was the Caller, and he spoke thus: The world cannot be made lesser, for it is precisely as it must be.

The next to speak was the Speaker, who said: A man cannot be made greater, for he is precisely as he must be.

The supplicant looked up in despair. How then shall I go forth? he cried.

Go forth in faith, the Caller said. For all men are lesser than the path they walk. If your surroundings make you feel small, then you have been granted room to grow.

Go forth in courage, the Speaker said. For you have not yet been tested to the extent of your strength. What we do not know resides in the unfamiliar, so we must travel there to seek it.

The man thanked them and left, weeping tears of joy now that he had been shown the path forward. When his back had disappeared amid the crowd, the Caller turned to the Speaker with a question on his lips.

Was there greatness in this mans heart? the Caller asked. Or have we sent him to his death?Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only

The Speaker smiled, and said: All roads lead to greatness, and to death. We have sent him forth, and this is enough.

- The Book of Eight Verses, the Verse of Secrets. (New Kheman Edition, 542 PD)

Michaels feet propelled him in a nervous circuit of his tent. The walking was mindless and unhelpful, but seemed to him better than the echoing discomfort of remaining still with the phrase endlessly repeating in his head.

My soul to the One.

Why did he say that? Michael muttered. Why would he say something like that?

Vernon and Emil are making inquiries at the Ardan camp, Sobriquet said, the reply as well-tread as the rut Michael was wearing into the ground. Come here and sit, Ill let you know as soon as they find anything.

Michael walked stiffly over to his cot, sitting beside her. It doesnt make any sense, he muttered. I dont know them, they shouldnt know anything about me. Least of all my soul.

Theres a reasonable explanation, Sobriquet sighed. We just have to find out what it is.

Michael nodded, the muscles in his jaw working; he rose to his feet and began to pace once more. He said theres a whole battalion of them. You dont think theyre all like that, do you? He looked up to Sobriquet, feeling his heart began to race once again. If its enough to give them affinity-

Michael, she said, rising to put her hand on his shoulder. The situation is what it is. We are currently trying to learn as much as we can about it. Only once weve finished learning can we work to change it. She looked him in the eye. You cant change anything now.

But theyre sending them into Imes, he protested. If they do have affinity, and if they die-

Then they die. Sobriquet gave him an exasperated look. Changing those circumstances would require either erasing their affinity with you or ensuring that they never die, and Im struggling to determine which of the two is more impossible. She guided him firmly back towards the cot, pushing him back into a seated position.

Stop trying to find a path to where this problem doesnt exist. It does. It has for days. Nothing is different right now from when you woke up this morning, save that you learned these men existed. She tapped him lightly on the forehead. So over the course of the day, your situation has improved immensely. It just doesnt feel like it.

Michael nodded, trying to get a grasp on his breathing; he counted his heartbeats and felt them come more slowly with each breath. Eventually, he looked up to give Sobriquet a sheepish grin. Im being a little silly, arent I? he asked.

She laughed. No, I think panic is the natural response to learning youve got a literal legion of devotees, she said. But sometimes we cant panic, so we have to do other things.

Wise words from the woman with a stressful vocation, Michael said, laying back on the cot and closing his eyes. I dont believe Ive ever seen you panic, come to think of it, and we have been in some spots together that definitely merited it.

Sobriquet looked at him, unsmiling. Youve seen it, she said. I try to keep it brief.

Michael looked at her, perturbed at the change in her tone, but before his thoughts solidified into questions she had raised her hand. Hold on, I think Emil has finally gotten to the point, she said. Let me just-

Her eyes closed, and around her the confines of the tent blurred and expanded; in moments Michael found himself looking at the interior of a much larger tent, one filled with Ardan soldiers. They were perched on crates or cots, standing where none were available.

As the illusion solidified it brought with it a cheery din. Michael saw that nearly all of the soldiers were holding drinks, and likely not their first of the afternoon. Beer was common, although bottles of Mendiko cider jostled for space with wine, ales and stronger spirits.

In the center of the fracas sat the architect of this multi-pronged assault on sobriety; Emil was smiling as he poured a dram of Mukaramen whiskey for Lars. The Ardan captain had procured a proper snifter for it from somewhere, swirling the golden liquid with practiced ease before taking a sip.

Damned good, Lars pronounced, inclining his head to Emil. Havent had proper Mukaramen in ages, not since before we deployed to Azim - Imes, Imes! He raised his free hand defensively as his fellow officers jeered at the slip.

Drink! one of them shouted. You know the rules!

One does not- Lars protested, cradling his snifter close to his body. This is good stuff, lads, itd be a crime to toss it back. Hand me a - there, yes, well done. He grabbed a proffered cup of cider, drinking it in one swallow. The captain handed the cup back with a grimace, shaking himself. Ghars blood, thats horrid. No offense to our newfound Mendiko friends, of course, but theyve got queer ideas about drink.

Ive never met them before today! Michael objected.

Vera did, and even if shes gone slightly mad she seems to be doing good work - as a direct result of your intervention. Sobriquet smiled at him. Youve helped people, Michael. I know you dont see it, but you have. And when those people look at the change wrought in their lives, and see that it was your presence that did it, they cannot help but love you.

She leaned in close to kiss him; Michael found her particular brand of rhetoric quite convincing indeed. When she broke away, she was radiating a low warmth that kindled an echo in Michaels heart. And as for myself, she whispered, my life has been upended entirely, you infuriating man. I love you most of all.

I love you, he murmured back. You incomprehensible woman. I only fear what this means. When I receive a soul, great or small, there is a change in me. All of these men, these broken men who laugh and talk of killing in my name - if they should die, and pass to me, I worry that I might not be the same man you know in the end.

Sobriquet kissed his forehead. At every turn youve gone up against the world, she said. And the world has always been the one to yield, even as your demands of it grow less reasonable by the day. If you keep insisting that the world make some manner of sense to you, eventually you will find yourself ruling it.

Michael made a face. That, he said, is precisely the sort of thing I wish to avoid.

And we both know that you always get what you want, she said, standing to grin down at him. Now come on, we have to go tell Antolin that Saleh was right, and that the evil Heart-Eater has a legion of fanatics at his back after all.

Please stop saying that name, Michael groaned. Its macabre, and with my luck its going to stick.

Heart-Eater, Antolin rumbled, drawing an aggrieved sigh from Michael. Taskins cleverness has finally reached back around to bite him, it seems. Making a grand enemy for the Safid to fight does more than rally his own men. He gave Michael a calculating look. We can use this.

Lets not, Michael said. Surely the real world is sufficiently horrid that we dont need to borrow from Salehs incitements for flavor.

Antolin gave a rare laugh, shaking his head. Im not proposing that we further what those Ardans have started, although you may find that such fancies are harder to stop than youd prefer. No, Im intrigued at the extent to which it appears to be compromising Safid professionalism. Fanaticism is an excellent motivator but it cannot instill restraint.

Id never have accused Saleh of wanting restraint before, Sobriquet said. So Im not sure why he should begin now.

Because hes tasked with defending Imes from us, for one, Antolin said. And it would be convenient indeed if we can pull his troops forward from their prepared positions simply by waving Michaels assumed title under their noses. They will adapt, of course, but it will benefit us in the crucial opening moves of this siege.

He looked out toward the city of Imes; Michael followed his gaze. They were standing on a low swell of land some distance from the outlying districts, one of the few high points in the flat plains near the coast. The city crowded up against the ocean, a fat blob of whitewashed buildings shining with reflected sunlight.

It might have been a serene view but for the obvious signs of battle; here and there buildings were caved in or blackened from fire, and smoke still rose from points closer to the city center.

It looks mostly intact from here, Antolin mused, but our reports say the fighting has been intense. There will be roadblocks, rubble. Your team will have artifices to clear a path forward for our armor.

He looked at Michael, then smiled. You look worried.

Should I not be? Michael asked, somewhat exasperated. Were about to invade the Daressan capital. Men will die, and Ive just been forced to contemplate if that might not affect me more directly than Id wish.

Hmm, Antolin said. If it will ease your mind, Im not sending in any of the Ardans with our advance groups. Theyre too fresh, and for all that every soul Ive checked them against has said theyre in earnest Im not going to mix foreign elements with our advance. The lack of coordination alone would be fatal. He shook his head. Theyll stay behind until weve reached more of an understanding.

Michael let his breath out slowly, watching the city laid out below them. That does put my mind more at ease. I still have no concept of what Im doing, though.

Youre not in charge of the whole advance, Antolin chuckled. Youre there for warning, and perhaps protection if they come out with particularly troublesome ensouled. Otherwise, you merely need to follow along and keep your eyes open. Youll retain your liason, Zabala.

Charles will be with your team as well, Sobriquet added, nudging him gently. Part of your artifices.

Im not sure I find that reassuring, Michael deadpanned. He watched the buildings in the distance, imagining that if he strained his sight he could see the forms of men lurking within the buildings, waiting for his advance. He sighed and turned away from the vista.

Then its time? he asked.

Antolin nodded, and a moment later extended his hand. Michael blinked; he had not expected it, but shook it automatically. The grand marshals eyes were kind, but the smile had slipped from his lips.

Its not an easy day, the first time you realize that others have expectations of you beyond what they believe they themselves can do, Antolin said quietly. But it changes nothing. Theyve seen you as youve been up to this point; keep being that man. He released Michaels hand.

Michael nodded and looked back towards the airship. Does she have a part in todays events? he asked.

No, Antolin said wearily. Shed be a poor fit for this sort of combat usually, and now that I have cause to question her restraint - shes not happy about it, but well be keeping her in reserve.

Probably for the best, Michael grimaced, turning as he heard the noise of motors behind him; a line of trucks had begun to snake its way along the road, making its ponderous way towards the city. The distant black spots of an armored division watched silently some distance away, but nothing stirred in the city to contest their advance.

It was time. Michael followed Antolin back towards the road, where a pair of trucks were waiting. Antolin hopped in one and gestured for Sobriquet to follow. She nodded and turned to Michael.

Ill be keeping an eye on you from the command post, she murmured. You have this in hand.

So everyone keeps telling me. Michael kissed her. Good luck.

And you. She smiled, then joined Antolin in his truck. Michael turned and climbed up beside Zabala, who gunned the engine and slid them into the convoy. The fortimens said nothing, but there was nothing more to say; the view of the city before them had already laid claim to anything worth saying.