Before the Storm: Act 1, Chapter 5

Before the Storm: Act 1, Chapter 5

Chapter 5

They truly aren’t scared of them...

It was commonly said that seeing was believing. Except that she wasn’t sure whether it was right to believe what she saw. People were averse to the Undead for a very good reason. It wasn’t conducive to a long life to become comfortable with the things.

Frianne watched in envy as Dimoiya went ahead of their group with Liane, running this way and that as she exclaimed her amazement over everything she came across. As much as she would have liked to express the same appreciation for what they saw, it was hardly appropriate for an imperial princess.

“Ohh!!!” Dimoiya gushed, “The town has the same pavement as the highways!”

“Yep!” Liane smiled.

“But it looks so expensive! How can anyone afford to do this much?”

“Hehe, want it for your demesne? We can cut you a special deal...”

“I do! Oh, but I don’t have my own demesne yet. Just give me a few years!”

To be certain, the ride into the Sorcerous Kingdom gave them much to admire, but all that seemed a small thing indeed now that they were walking through the bustling markets of Corelyn Harbour. For Frianne’s part, however, she couldn’t help but continually glance at the Undead. As they walked along, she did her best to stay as far away as possible from anything that she spotted but they would sometimes appear out of the crowd to give her such a fright that she found herself clinging to Ludmila’s arm before she realised what had happened.

The townsfolk didn’t seem to care at all about the Undead, however. Traffic flowed around the sentries and patrols as if they were no different than Imperial Knights.

“Is Dimoiya still trying to join the diplomatic mission?” Clara asked.

“She is,” Frianne answered. “It’s slow going, however. Not only is the Court Council being cautious about it, but they don’t think a young woman should head the mission. Half because they think it’s cruel to send her to the Sorcerous Kingdom and half because they want an older, experienced man running things. Not that there are any volunteers for the post.”

“How is Dimoiya taking that?”

“Oh, you know her. She’s invincible when it comes to that kind of thing. Becoming an ambassador is an inevitability to her. At the slow rate that the Empire is coming to grips with the Undead, she may be the first to do it.”

Even if a few Nobles showed interest, the Temples still strongly opposed their implementation into civilian industry. Bringing in the Undead has proven far more difficult than it initially seemed.

“Speaking of posts,” Clara said, “did you receive any titles upon being appointed as Head Imperial Court Mage?”

“I did. I’m the Countess of Waldenstein, now. It’s a territory in the forest northeast of Arwintar. Even though it’s in the imperial heartland, it’s not a very impressive place. The forest was a part of the imperial family’s hunting grounds. A kingswood, so to speak.”

“Congratulations nonetheless, Countess Waldenstein,” Clara smiled. “You never mention these things in your letters. Does that mean you’ll be bringing back some friends from the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“Honestly, I’m still undecided. I suppose that’s why I’m here. How long did it take for your citizens to return to...erm, resume their everyday routines?”

She couldn’t say ‘return to normal’ because what she witnessed couldn’t be considered normal at all.

“That depended on a variety of factors,” Clara said. “Ludmila’s demesne recovered and surpassed its former state less than a month after the official annexation.”

“Clara is framing what happened in the most generous of terms,” Ludmila said. “My fief was practically abandoned by the time I went to pay my respects to the new government in E-Rantel. It didn’t take much effort on my part to have it ‘surpass its former state’.”

“But new settlers still came to your territory, yes?” Frianne said, “I’d like to know how you got them used to Undead. Our progress in the northwestern frontier and the Wyvernmark is a crawl, at best. Integration on the military end of things was swift, but we continue to face stiff resistance from the Temples and the civilian aristocracy to this day.”

“You will never bring the Faith of the Four to your side,” Clara told her. “The root of their resistance is not economic or cultural, but religious.”

Frianne sighed. She suspected as much. The Baharuth Empire’s struggle with the Faith of the Four far preceded the advent of the Sorcerous Kingdom. As a secular government, the Imperial Administration was relentless in its quest to assert total authority over the citizens of the Empire, but the Temples were steadfast in their resistance against anything that they saw as immoral, evil, or detrimental to the spiritual health of the citizenry and made sure the people knew about it.Checkk new novel chapters at novelbin(.)com

Unlike the aristocratic establishment, the Temples couldn’t be undermined by legislation, propaganda, or physical force. Pushing them too hard would plunge the Empire into domestic chaos as they had just as much, if not more, political clout over the people than the imperial throne. The fact that they usually didn’t resort to violent methods made them that much harder to get rid of. Even if the Empire could get rid of them, it would implode shortly after because the Temples safeguarded the physical health of the country.

Thus, the only way to deal with the Temples was through often fruitless negotiation. The Temples would never endorse the Undead as a matter of faith, and so they had come to an impasse.

“What happened to the Temples of the Four in E-Rantel?” Frianne asked.

“They’re still around,” Clara answered with a shrug. “And they are every bit as obstinate as their counterparts in the Empire.”

“Then how does the Sorcerous Kingdom deal with them?”

“They don’t. Matters of religion have nothing to do with the government. So long as the law is observed, people are free to practise their respective faiths.”

“If only we had the luxury of taking a similar stance.”

“What would happen if you did?” Ludmila asked.

Frianne fell silent for several moments to ponder the question. It wasn’t an avenue that the Imperial Administration would ever consider.

“I’m not certain,” she said. “The relationship between the Imperial Administration and the Temples is akin to a struggle for ideological dominance. If we do not make a continuous effort to counter religious propaganda with government propaganda, I suspect that we may wake up one day to find the Empire transformed into a de-facto theocracy.”

“How come that hasn’t happened to Re-Estize? Institutionally speaking, their government is weak.”

“I believe it has to do with the Kingdom’s decentralised nature,” Frianne replied. “Ironically, the strength of the Temples in the Empire is directly linked to the success of the Empire as an increasingly centralised regime. The Temples do not hold any land as they do in the Theocracy and the Holy Kingdom, and they similarly have no say in the governance of the realm. Thus, their strength waxes and wanes according to the strength and stability of the Empire.

“In Re-Estize, the fabric of society is very local in its scope. You have – on paper – extremely powerful aristocrats ruling over what is effectively a collection of thousands of petty kingdoms, clans, and tribes. Any friction that occurs between the Temples and the government happens on that same, local level. It is to the degree that I wouldn’t be surprised if the Faith of the Four in Re-Estize differs in character depending on what region of the country one is in.”

She nearly bumped into Dimoiya as spoke. The bespectacled young woman had stopped in her tracks, staring wide-eyed at something ahead of them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lookit there, Prez!” Dimoiya pointed.

Frianne frowned, wondering what had caused the noblewoman to cease speaking properly. When she figured out what she was pointing at, she didn’t think she could speak properly herself.

A small column of men, women, and children came in the opposite direction. Each was fully armed and armoured, cloaked in black temple vestments with silver trim. Despite the friendly look that the members of the column sported, Frianne involuntarily shuddered.

“Nothing will come out,” Ludmila said, “no matter how hard you squeeze me.”

Frianne released the taller noblewoman.

“Those...those are adherents of Surshana, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Ludmila replied.

I suppose a realm ruled by the Undead would be teeming with death worshippers...

As the column passed, one of the men noticed them standing there. He smiled and waved and soon the entire group was doing the same. Clara and Ludmila returned their greeting. Like the rest of the townsfolk, they treated the Undead no differently than they would Human soldiers.

Clara cleared her throat.

“The realities of that future still stand. What does the Empire plan on doing about it?”

“Conceptually speaking,” Frianne said, “the Court Council is well aware of what may happen. We plan on adapting our current methods as the situation demands. Rest assured, the Emperor has every intention of keeping things firmly in hand.”

“I wasn’t referring to the new faction that would arise,” Clara said, “or anything the Empire would recognise as a faction at all. I was asking about this.”

With a sweeping gesture, Clara indicated the crowded plaza before them.

“What of the people, Frianne?” She said, “A period of drastic change is coming to the Baharuth Empire, yet it seems that the situation of its citizens will stay the same. You said that the Imperial Court Council plans on adapting its current methods as the situation demands: that means that the Empire is content with how things currently are with the common folk, yes?”

“Is there something wrong with encouraging the people to strive for excellence and earn the acclaim of their peers?”

“Earlier, you mentioned that many important aspects of the Empire had been left behind or damaged severely. I must wonder what you meant by that, given your apparent stance. I thought we were on the same page back when I mentioned this during our time together in Arwintar, but...”

Frianne took in the activity of the market and its surrounding shops. The scenes around them wouldn’t be out of place in the markets of Arwintar’s Second-class district. Aside from the presence of the Undead, of course.

“Do you mean to say that things are done differently here, Clara?” She asked.

“I’m not the only person who does things differently,” Clara answered. “Take the Temples, for instance.”

Clara stopped to indicate a set of buildings that Frianne had been trying very hard not to look at. On the western end of the plaza was a huge complex that must have occupied as much space as the Imperial Palace and the complex upon its grounds. It was rather spare in its presentation, but the trappings of the temple staff made it plain that it was an institute of the Six Great Gods. For some reason, the Undead sentries were placed at regular intervals there, too.

Are the Undead allowed to be that close to a temple? They’re supposed to be holy sites.

“The Temples – neither those of The Six or The Four – do not discriminate in the way that the Empire does,” Clara told her. “Those who seek to become a man or woman of the cloth or wish to join the faith militant are provided the same opportunity as anyone else.”

“The Imperial Administration is much the same,” Frianne said.

“That’s clearly not true,” Clara told her. “Chldren are talen in as Acolytes and Squires and taught everything they need to know to become a Cleric, Paladin, or Priest. Can you claim that the Empire does the same for its bureaucrats?”

“In a way, it does,” Frianne replied. “The Empire’s Nobles manage titles granted to them by the Empire, and through the incomes and experience from managing those titles, they facilitate the education of their children. Those children then go on to attend the Imperial Magic Academy where every student is held to the same standard.”

“That only underscores what I’m trying to say. The Temples take anyone and provide them with room, board, and tuition. The Imperial Magic Academy has entrance requirements that essentially bar more than ninety-nine per cent of the population from attending. It makes exceptions for those of talent who wouldn’t otherwise be able to attend. The Empire espouses meritocratic ideals, but it exists in a state that is far from them. Not unless you consider wealth and privilege merits in their own right.

“If there is no equity in education, then there is no equity of opportunity. A Farmer will always be a Farmer unless they are sent to the local town or city as a spare, and it is very rare indeed that a spare finds success in the Empire. The Empire holds itself above the other Human countries in the region, but the reality is that it’s not much different when it comes to the disparity between its social strata. You have the martial elite, the administrative elite, the clergy, and then there’s everyone else. Nothing is being done about the systems of education and vocational association that entrap everyone in their respective worlds.”

“‘Worlds’ may be a bit of an exaggeration...”

“I don’t think it’s an exaggeration at all,” Clara said. “The conceptual and philosophical framework through which a Noble, Merchant, and Farmer interpret the world around them are so far removed from one another that it may as well be. To bring all of those worlds together, the root cause of that division must be addressed.”

Frianne eyed the temple complex warily as they turned and walked by. It looked menacing just by existing.

“Quite frankly,” she said, “I believe what you’re suggesting is impossible. This ‘alignment of worlds’ you’re proposing would bankrupt the Empire before it got anywhere with it. Are you implying that you’ve achieved it in your county?”

“Not entirely,” Clara said, “but we are taking decisive steps toward implementing standardised universal education. Ludmila is the only one that has managed to get there so far.”

“It was a short-term achievement,” Ludmila said. “I have thousands of Goblins to educate now. Ogres, Trolls, and several other Demihuman races, as well.”

Is there a point to educating Goblins?

The little green Demihumans were notoriously stupid, so it felt like Ludmila was embarking on a futile venture. What would she even do with them if she did?

Liane and Dimoiya reappeared when they turned the next corner and headed back east along the north side of the plaza. Frianne frowned at an odd piece of paper stuck to Dimoiya’s forehead.

“There’s something up here, Dimoiya,” Frianne pointed at her forehead.

“We went to the Vampires, Prez,” Dimoiya’s glasses gleamed in the sunlight.

“Th-the Vampires?”

“The post office,” Liane threw her thumb over her shoulder. “Each of the major branches is staffed by at least one Vampire. There are three in this one.”

Frianne looked past the two noblewomen to the storefront behind them. What appeared to be an envelope with bat wings sealed by a pink heart was carved into the sign above its open door.

“This is a ‘postage stamp’,” Dimoiya looked up cross-eyed at her forehead. “It’s supposed to pay the fee for delivering parcels. I tried mailing myself back to Arwintar, but the Vampire lady at the front desk said that they didn’t offer that service yet.”

“Why would you mail yourself back to Arwintar?” Frianne asked.

“Uh...it seemed like a good idea at the time,” Dimoiya answered. “The rates are super cheap. They said it’d only take three hours, too. Totally worth it.”

“What if they actually did deliver you to Arwintar?”

“There’s a Vampire Post office there, too! I didn’t know that. Did you know that?”

“I didn’t.”

“The office is in the Imperial Army’s aviary,” Liane said. “They wouldn’t let us put it anywhere else.”

For obvious reasons...

If people discovered that there were Vampires in Arwintar, the city would lose all of its commercial traffic.

“We’re going back already?” Liane asked.

“We’re going to the eastern plaza,” Clara answered.

“Ehhh? I don’t wanna go to school...”

“We were just discussing education,” Clara said, “so paying a visit would be...educational.”

“You have a school in this town?” Frianne asked.

“Two schools,” Clara answered. “The temple complex we just walked by has a large temple school and dormitories for its regular staff and initiates. The other school is for the townsfolk in general. I suppose you could say that it provides a secular education.”

Emulating the Temples was absolutely out of the question for a proper imperial education, but the other school sounded like it might show her some useful things.

“Is that so?” Frianne said, “Then I’m most curious to find out how your system differs from ours.”