be the light

Sera had to bite the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t her place to correct Scheherazade, no matter how much she wanted to. Truth be told, there was a such thing as trash… And the taller of the two blondes was it, through and through. What else could she possibly be when she was running for her life and lived in trees, and off the land with nothing else to her name-

But it was her question of her name that made her pause and stiffen, glancing away once again. Her father was on the other side of the country… Even if his influence stretched this far out, it should be safe to give it to the priestess, right? “S…Seraphina… Sera, my lady. Just… Sera.” As long as she kept her last name out of things, it was even safer- And besides, being disowned meant she no longer carried her family’s name, anyway.

“But I have to.. Respectfully disagree with you, j-just a little.” Wait, what was she saying? Why couldn’t she stop herself?! “Every person in this w-world has a purpose, yes. We should all be equal… There is no difference between us. When cut, we all bleed the same, and we all hunger and breathe the same… But some of us, as in the case of me, are.. S-Still nothing more than street trash. I a-apologize for tainting you with my lower standing, m-my lady- And I know it’s.. N-not my place to correct you… But I am but trash with no home nor family, nor… Anything to my name. My life matters little in the grand scheme of this world, so.. So long as things change. Someday.”

With those words spoken, she glanced up at the guards, almost expecting them to be sneering at her.

“Sera? Such a wonderful name~”

The High Priestess is silent for a moment, allowing the girl to voice out her thoughts. There was fear there, and so much pain. Scheherazade might not know the entirety of her story but she feels sympathetic all the same.

“Allow me to contradict your objection,” the Magi replies with a faint chuckle.

“Do you see this vast city? Many years ago, this was nothing but an empty wasteland. The heat was intense and the ground bore no fruit. But a single man’s dream transformed everything into what you see today. I was there to witness his struggles. There were days when he thought that he meant nothing as well, that all his efforts would go to waste. But he kept persevering, kept reaching for that dream.”

“He was a nobody. We were nothing more than a ragtag group of adventurers. And yet we all created this wonderful city.”

They finally reach the summit, the mausoleum looming like a solitary marble sentry pressed against a cloudless azure sky.

     “… hm?”

The soldier glance at the magi in irritation, trying hardly to hide his annoyance. As much as he respected and admired Muu, he’d never be able to understand his devotion towards this woman, but at least he tried to stay polite, for the Captain’s sake, not because of her.

“I ain’t hearin’ anythin’.” And he genuinely hoped that his sense of hearing was better than a old hag’s ears. Maybe she was just getting senile with her years. Or maybe these strange magicians could sense other shit like that. Whatever.

He didn’t exactly like the thought of helping her, but he hated the thought of some brat sobbing its eyes out even more. Of course, he was no hero, but he was a big brother, and crying children reminded him of things he didn’t want to be reminded of.

“Fine, if ya think there’s some sad brat, I’ll tag along, m’lady.”

Scheherazade smiled, subtly requesting the rukh to guide their way. 

She might think of the Fanalis Corps as family but truth be told, she hadn’t spent much time with Rohroh. He was usually busy with training or else off roughhousing with others. Most of the things she knew about the man were second-hand information given by Muu. Their leader often touted Rohroh’s strength and dedication to their cause... although he couldn’t help but admit that the Fanalis was also responsible for most of the damage in their training pavilion.

In a sense, Rohroh was like a worn battle axe - its blade trusted and true but its handle callous and unyielding.

“Must be over here...”

The Magi drifts off to an adjacent hallway. True enough, they hear a soft but distinct sobbing.

Reim’s high priestess.

She was being favored by the most noble of all nobles, her already wide eyes widening just a little more. “Lady Scheherazade-” It was a name she knew from her father’s angry rants, the man thinking he could run the country better than some ‘young girl with no logical head on her shoulders’. But from the way he’d ranted and raved, she’d assumed the priestess to be some big, sneering, angry woman, not the tiny and smiling thing before her- And that said a lot when one was rather small and petite herself.

But she still wanted her to accompany her, even despite her guards pointing out the honest truth. How could she refuse? Saying no would certainly get her out of the country that much faster, but did she dare risk angering someone as powerful and influential as Scheherazade? The slightest wrong move could leave her exposed and prone to capture by those associated with her family… And she did kind of like the priestess. She was brave and kind, nothing like she’d expected.

Adjusting her hood to make sure she was covered, Sera gave a little nod, the faintest of smiles tugging at her lips. “A-All right- As you wish, priestess. I.. I know not why you’d choose such trash to accompany you, but.. I can’t say no.” And with that said she extended a hand to the smaller woman, her smile strengthening a little. What harm could it have?

Scheherazade’s smile brightened as she placed her smaller hand on the stranger’s own. The rukh hummed pleasantly at the contact, further proof that the Magi did the right thing. This girl... There was something about her.

“No such thing as trash, my dear.”

“Every single person on this world has a purpose... and none of that entails being trapped beneath someone else’s feet.”

The Magi remembers the proliferation of slavery in Reim. It was an unpleasant practice and Scheherazade herself has already lobbied many times to have it discontinued but the senate was stubbornly set in its old ways. Perhaps someday, they will see reason.

Someday...

The Fanalis might seem like a vicious lot but Scheherazade treated them like family. They were there when Reim faced its toughest foes, there to defend the same place they’ve come to know as home. And as such, she never saw them as the ‘beasts’ outsiders often claim they were.

“Rohroh,” the High Priestess beckoned with a gentle wave of her hand.

THE MYTHS ARE TRUE he discovers. Awe glazes over his sharp mien as he gazes upon her youthful face and dainty body that is said to be everlasting. If not for her poise and her way of speaking — sagacious from centuries of wisdom — Kouen would have thought it all an insulting farce. When she speaks, his attention utterly claps onto her. “You honor me deeply, great priestess,” he bows his head. Tension keeps his posture straight and ready as though on the eve of battle; always has he been made of more soldiery stuff than courtly grace. “It’s a fine country and this being a great city, your Remano.” The prince bites into an unfamiliar fruit, to be polite, and resists wrinkling his nose. ( Sweet is a taste he disdains. ) He discreetly puts it back on the plate, and clears his throat. “On the way here, I saw Kou silk merchants — it seems Reim has become tolerant of easterners, knowing we’ve more to bring than conquest.”

Scheherazade chuckled, the sound akin to tiny bells tinkling in a soft breeze.

“Yes, our trade routes have expanded since several years ago. We’ve often exchanged goods with other countries from the west but recent developments have prompted a more eager campaign with the east.”

“I must admit, it was not easy to convince the senate but we all must accept change no matter how gradually. A stagnant pond grows dull and mossy whereas an ever-flowing stream remains pure and sweet.”

She heads for her own seat at the opposite end of the table... but not before gesturing to a golden tray just by Kouen’s elbow.

Eyes scanned the woman, watching her movement. Ismenie couldn’t help but sympathises with her. She too had such feelings, yet Ismenie couldn’t do anything. Not a thing.

Emotions draining from her face, showing not a single feeling. Ismenie remained silent. Trying to find words to say. She wanted to comfort the magi, but knew better. If she wanted the truth, Ismenie would give exactly that.

“You are strong and capable of many things. But even the greatest cannot stop the hatred in this world, nor save most of those victims to it. It isn’t being selfish for protecting something you have worked so hard on. Doubt is natural. But just because it is natural, doesn’t mean what you are doing is wrong”

Scheherazade’s fears quieted slightly although she knew full well that its influence will never truly disappear. Just as light created shadows, hope can not exist without despair. It was a cruel balance that aimed to destroy as much as it can create.

“...I hear your words and I listen. But I could not help worrying over the future of this world.”

“My clairvoyance is not as clear as it used to be... and yet I can feel the darkness slowly gaining strength. I know we all have this poison within our souls but there are plenty of people out there who seek to harness it, to use hatred as a weapon of mass destruction.”

The Magi sighs, weary.

Masrur looks down at the smaller woman, did she just compliment his calves…? That’s something new. “Uhm…. thanks…. I never skip leg day so….”

“Leg... day?”

“What an odd tree...”

Ismenie appeared through the rukh, with a saddened smile, and saddened eyes. She felt bad for the woman. A magi just wishing to protect to her kingdom, forced to watch the destructive ways of life. 

Her words pained Ismenie, she too had asked that question so many times.

“A question most cannot answer,” she said, her voice soft, wishing not to frighten her.

She had seen the darkness first hand, yet was never strong enough to stop it. But Scheherazade was, and she knew it. Her heart still had hope, something most would’ve lost. Ismenie sat in the air, her staff hanging loosely from her hand.

“The darkness is strong, and I’m sure you know that. But Reim is powerful, along with smart. I know you fear for the country. But what exactly scares you?”

Scheherazade gasps. It was rare for the rukh to speak, let alone use an oddly familiar voice. Although the accumulated knowledge of her past lives can not give a name, the very fiber of her being reassured her that this was a friend. Someone she can reveal her deepest, darkest fears to.

“... With every passing day, my doubt grows. Did I follow the right path? Am I being selfish to protect only my country, letting others fall into the abyss?”

Reim’s Magi grasped her own staff, her grip as shaky and uncertain as her voice.

Peace?

Sera blinked, utterly dumbfounded by both the moment and the woman before her. She was nothing but street trash, hiding herself beneath a cloak and hood… But she still wanted to take her along? After she’d disrupted the procession, likely dirtied her shoes, forced her to touch someone so low in the social ranks? Everyone else had the right idea, questioning her in low voices, so why wasn’t she?

“Forgive me again… I… I am of no station to accompany you,” she whispered, barely audiable over the crowd’s voices. “I’m but lowly street trash, and you, noble-born. To walk with you would be lowering yourself to my level, ma'am… I couldn’t l-let you do that.” She had guards with her; why choose a commoner to help her?

The toe of a ratty, old shoe dug into the ground, her gaze falling with it. “…Why do you not have me arrested for disrupting your procession?” Any other noble would have, but this woman…  Who was she? “Is it not an aresstable offense here?”

Before Scheherazade can reply, one of her guards steps forward. He implores her to request aid from their soldiers. Reim’s High Priestess deserved the utmost privilege after all. And if her legs really were a bother, they can carry her to the mausoleum in no time - -

“I’ve made my decision, Claudius.”

Although that smile was still on her face, Scheherazade’s tone was firm.

“This young lady will accompany me.”