Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume8 Chapter4 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

Elsewhere, in Safia, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Ende, the country which stood on equal footing with Mephius and Garbera at the centre of the continent.

Like a rainbow bridge spanning the surface of the earth, the innumerable pavilions of the glittering white palace, which were also known as ‘the Thousand Wings’, formed a decorative belt that encircled the main shrine.

At almost its very highest point, the flag of the ancient Magic Dynasty was fluttering. It was the flag that proclaimed the legitimacy of the authority of Ende’s court.

Ende had originally been a land governed by a loyal vassal of the legendary King Zodias, the founder of the Magic Dynasty, who was said to have ruled the continent for over a hundred years. After a certain amount of time, Zodias became more engrossed in magical research than in governing; because of this, and driven by the need to strike fear and awe in the west, which remained beyond the king’s control, the Duke of Ende gave the name Grand Duchy of Ende to the lands he administered within Zodias’ dynasty.

One stormy night, Zodias abruptly passed away from a strange illness and the entire continent fell into the chaos of the long struggle for succession. Like hyenas and vultures gathering around fresh carrion, numerous generals and lords each proclaimed that they deserved to be the successor, and continued the bloody conflict, even when there was no longer either a country or a throne left to inherit. Amidst it all, the region of Ende determinedly held its silence.

Without paying any attention to offers of alliances made by other powers, they had simply focused on defending their borders against any invader who tried to cross them. They bided their time for more than ten years until the third Duke of Ende judged that the long war had finally weakened the surrounding lords, and decided to set out with his troops to unify the whole land. After having designated themselves as the legitimate successors, they called themselves the Emperors of Ende. This was the start of the era known in history as ‘the Former Empire of Ende’ but it only lasted a very short time. That was because at the same period, the Kingdom of Allion was rising in the east of the continent.

The one who ruled as the founding king of Allion was the one who had once been appointed to defend the Dynasty’s capital, General Arma Jamil. When insurrection had turned the capital into a sea of flames, Arma – who was said to have set the fire himself – used the opportunity to plunder the capital’s treasures and then fled east. Backed by his considerable wealth, he had then taken former military units and vagrant warriors into his service; and, just like Ende, he had bided his time and saved his strength.

Arma took as many as a hundred women as wives, and claimed that one of them was King Zodias’ bastard child. This made him, as her husband, the legitimate ruler of the Dynasty.

A confrontation between Ende and Allion was of course inevitable.

However, while a vanguard from Allion was clashing with Ende’s border defence troops, everywhere else the conflicts were gradually dying down; and countries and powers, with forms of government very different from that of the Dynasty, were being established one by one.

This situation marked the end of the millennial era of the hundred-years dynasty<ref>The kanji used are those for ‘hundred-year dynasty’ (百年王朝) while the furigana read ‘millennium’ (ミレニアム). I’m assuming that the use of ‘millennium’ is there to indicate that this was a utopian Golden Era, rather than being some weird mistake in numbers.</ref> and the world had already plunged into simpler and more savage times; where conflicts were far more about struggling for land with swords and guns than about fighting for the lost sovereign’s seal.

With things as they were, Ende and Allion temporarily laid down their weapons. In the peace negotiations that followed the Duke of Ende agreed to no longer call himself emperor and, in exchange, Allion promised to not send soldiers towards Ende for ten years.

Since that time, although Ende and Allion kept their distances from one another, they flew the same flag and claimed that their two nations had jointly inherited the traditions and bloodline of the Dynasty.
The influence of the Dynasty had rapidly left a deep impression on Ende’s cultural style. In many of its famous buildings, including the aforementioned ‘Thousand Wings’ palace, as well as in its paintings and music, there were countless masterpieces belonging to the school of antiquity. The people of Ende were contemptuous of things like the art from Garbera, which the neighbouring country Mephius – with a mixture of masochism and envy – appreciated as ‘culture’, but which according to them had only been around for a few decades and which could thus be called no more than a fad, unworthy of their attention.

This was Ende.

All those who lived there bragged that Safia was the most magnificent capital in the world, but currently, that same capital was gripped with apprehension over a family quarrel that, with more accuracy, might be said to display human behaviour at its most savage and primitive.

The confrontation between the two princes was finally coming to a head.

The older of the brothers, First Prince Jeremie, who usually feigned belonging to the moderate faction and acted as though he had absolutely no interest in the struggle for succession, had now begun lashing out at his younger brother.

“Marching on Garbera was an act of arbitrary willfulness on my younger brother’s part. He falsified our father’s, the Grand Duke’s, words to make it look as though he had permitted it; then moved the army because of his own personal feelings and as a way of showing off his power. And in the end, what results did it bring? Having been unable to predict that Mephius would send reinforcements, he scurried home helplessly, without taking a single step towards Garbera’s capital. Ende is the laughingstock. How could such a foolish and uncouth lout shoulder the weight of this historic country?”

Taking things from a different angle, the reason why Jeremie had started talking this way was because he could no longer ignore his brother’s existence. At about the same time that Prince Eric was marching towards Garbera, there had been an incident in which wild dragons had started to rampage through Dairan, a district in Ende’s north. To protect a land that he had been close to since early childhood, Eric had immediately turned the army around and had swiftly and valiantly hunted the dragons.

That exploit had spread not only through Dairan but throughout the whole of Ende and had brought a change in the power relationship in Safia. Although ostensibly Jeremie still had many nobles supporting him, there were not a few voices that wondered whether a man like Eric, who was able to make swift decisions and take action, did not deserve to be the next Grand Duke.

Jeremie was a man who understood the subtleties of the court. Therefore, he was able to sense that the atmosphere was dangerous for him.

''If I don’t attack now, other nobles will steadily get dragged into that atmosphere'' – was another reason for his impatience.

On the other side, there was the younger brother, Second Prince Eric.

Naturally, he had perceived that a wind pushing him from behind had started to blow. And so Eric had made the prompt decision that now was the time to go on the offensive.

“In the first place, there has never been a single record of wild dragons in Dairan. On top of that, it was as if their appearance had been timed for when I was away, exactly as though it had someone’s design behind it. Which reminds me, my brother Jeremie seems to be close with the Bureau of Sorcery for some reason. Retainers saw him sneaking in and out of there not so long ago,” he commented loudly.

Since the disturbance in Dairan, Eric had been monitoring his brother. As a result, he was able to disclose that Jeremie had personal contact with the Bureau of Sorcery, and when that scandal flew around the entire court, what had merely been a shift in the ‘atmosphere’ changed into a rising ‘wind’.

And the leading figures in the duchy were eager to ascertain in which direction that wind would blow. In a sense, that was a fight fiercer than the one between the brothers; which was only natural, given that who they cooperated with now would mean the difference between heaven and earth for their lives in the future.

Tactics for information and psychological warfare were being deployed in all quarters. There were those who pretended to remain with him while storing up information about the older brother Jeremie’s side, those who were spreading false rumours that the younger brother Eric was preparing his troops to attack Safia, those who were desperate to win over the attendants who looked after the ill and bed-ridden Grand Duke…

Inaudible to the ear, the crash of war from invisible swords, spears and arrows resounded throughout Safia.
 



“Come closer.” A sonorous voice resounded in the circular chamber.

The walls, which should originally have been grey, shone gold. This was because of the light coming from a lofty pillar, which appeared to be modelled on the immigrants’ space ship, that stood towering in the centre of the chamber. The light was emitted from a sphere that was roughly the size of a human head.

From slightly higher than the bottom of the pillar, walkways ran in eight directions and just before they reached the walls of the circular chamber, they each had a space in which highbacked chairs on pedestals had been installed.

On each one of them a man was sitting, so that they were, in essence, surrounding the pillar. All of them wore long robes that reached down to their ankles and their collars were tightly fastened. As they wore their cowls low, their faces could not be seen.

“It appears that this country is entering a new phase in its history.” One of them said then another stood up, “There will be a certain amount of disorder. It is fine to say that Jeremie and Eric are competing for power. But that is all. We are watchmen to the last. To us, battles, political strife, and even the rise and fall of countries are no more than the ripples of a single stone on the surface of the ocean. The roll of the ocean’s waves easily swallow them up and ripples soon vanish.”

He spoke sternly and all the other sorcerers nodded simultaneously. The man who had risen to make that statement was the Director of Ende’s Bureau of Sorcery, Wodan. The long beard at his chin was woven into a braid in the style of the aristocrats from the era of the Ancient Dynasty.

“Is that not so, Hezel?”

At the base of the pillar, where Wodan’s gaze fell, there was a single man. He too had on a robe with a cowl but his clothes were somewhat dirty, his arms were bound behind his back and his knees were to the ground.

The man addressed as Hezel painfully lifted his head and seemed to say something but no voice came out.

Wodan snapped his fingers. “Take it off," he ordered.

Behind Hezel, two soldiers stood to attention, spears in hand. On both sides of their faces something like a pale, lightning-shaped tattoo stretched from their eyelids to their lips. They belonged to a special class of soldiers within Ende, those who guarded the Bureau of Sorcery. They stretched out their hands and removed a metallic collar from around Hezel’s neck.

“Master Wodan,” a voice wheezed out from Hezel’s mouth. He tried to continue further but he was in a terribly weakened state and he broke into a violent coughing fit.

Wodan raised his hand.

“It’s fine. Your five senses were cut off for a month. Your voice will not come out easily even by the third day. But when I see you, who is like a beloved son to me, reduced to this state, I still cannot blame myself for having gone too far. The sin you committed is that grave. Not only did you draw close to Prince Jeremie and request funding assistance on nothing more then your own authority, but you also tempted the prince into removing vessels of sorcery from the underground. It seems you used your subordinates to study them, but this too is deserving of a severe punishment.”

His head lowered, Hezel did not move.

The vessels of sorcery were the many artefacts which had been handed down in Ende from the ancient Dynastic period and could be called the very symbol of the Grand Duchy. Hezel had used them to revive ancient sorcery that manipulated dragons. This was not unrelated to the dragons which had suddenly rampaged through the region of Dairan. In other words, Hezel had been involved with something that would deeply affect Ende's politics. Although the Bureau of Sorcery was one of the country's institutions, it was by nature supposed to maintain a distance from politics and government.

"At the previous meeting, there were those who said that we should banish you forever, just as we did with that fool Reizus. But you are young and show more promise than any other sorcerer of your generation. Therefore, on my name of Wodan, Director of the Bureau of Sorcery, I had you sent to prison for a month. If you have learned from that..."

"B-But," Hezel spoke, interrupting him. His voice was weak and hoarse, but it must have been surprising that he had enough strength left to talk at all as Wodan unintentionally stopped speaking. Hezel gradually lifted his head although his neck and shoulders were trembling as though someone was holding him down hard. "Prince Eric's power and influence have also increased. If the second prince, who has no understanding of sorcery, was to take the throne of the Grand Duchy, we would be at a disadvantage."

When Wodan heard that, he appeared to regain his composure and shook his head.

"You are saying that you acted with the Bureau in mind? Certainly, Prince Jeremie has a greater understanding of sorcery than anyone else in the successive generations of the Grand Ducal House. I would go further and say that he has shown an interest, as that person has studied artefacts to quite an extent. It appears that he would be very interested in using magic to rule. If he were to become Grand Duke, our Bureau of Sorcery would indeed probably obtain greater power than ever before."

"In that case..."

"Power is futile," Wodan callously shot him down. "Power that can only be demonstrated within a country has no meaning. Say, for example, that Ende was on the verge of being destroyed by some calamity. We would cooperate to defend the country, but if in the end it became dangerous, we would just as easily abandon it. The assets for our preservation are knowledge and sorcery; we cannot trade them in for any one country. If afterwards we need to look for a new place to settle in, it will simply be a matter of creating a new organisation."

"..."

"Besides, if you are saying that you acted with the Bureau in mind, how will you explain away the affair with Garbera? When the general called Ryucown rose in rebellion, Prince Jeremie secretly gave him assistance. That was also your suggestion. What were you trying to do by needlessly prolonging Garbera's internal strife?"

"Well," Hezel spoke in a toneless voice from deep within his somewhat dirty cowl, "it was simply that the prince thought it would be a good opportunity to break down the relationship between the three countries."

"Your ulterior motive is as clear as day. Once Garbera was neutralised, you would have directed the prince's attention to the west. You goal is - yes, indeed, it is Barbaroi, is it not?"

When the word 'Barbaroi' was uttered, a voiceless commotion spread throughout the room. The seven sorcerers who, until then, had watched in silence repeatedly glanced towards each other.

"You must not interfere there." Before the disturbance had died down, the Director of the Bureau of Sorcery warned in a tone of voice stronger than any he had used so far. "From the start, we, Ende's Bureau of Sorcery, exist neither for the sake of the country nor for the sake of merely handing down sorcery techniques to posterity. We exist for nothing other than protecting Magic King Zodias' dying wish by watching over the fate - the predictions, the future - that he wove for this land. Repeat it, Hezel. What were the last words that King Zodias once transmitted to the sorcerers who were faithful to him?"
"'Above all else, defend Barbaroi to the last.'"

Hezel's breathing was ragged as he spoke. Wodan nodded but Hezel immediately cut through his words.

"In recent years, movement has been observed in Barbaroi. The sorcerer called Garda manifested in the west and, as the ether was greatly disturbed, how could it not help but waking from sleep for a while? In spite of your fears, you, Master Wodan, must surely understand. When King Zodias gave the order to defend Barbaroi to the last, it wasn't because he held that land dear. The king had a king's plan. He even thought to warn us that the plan would be wasted if other people were to go and approach that terrifying existence which granted the king knowledge of magic. It is now, now that Barbaroi is about to start moving again, that we need to take action. What will come of stubbornly defending King Zodias' testament, he who carried away the Dragon God's Claw and disappeared as though fleeing from this world? Director, to have Barbaroi in our hands. Our Bureau of Sorcery could then anew..."

"Silence!" Wodan roared. "You speak of wickedness. In a space where you could neither see nor hear anything, an empty space in which you could not feel the touch of anything, as though you were floating through the cosmos – although you have been locked up in that prison of sorcery for a month, one would not believe it. I have no hesitation in praising your courage. But I repeat, you are young. Too young. Regarding Garda and Barbaroi, of course we must reinforce our monitoring. But it is not yet at a stage where we need to intervene. Naturally, the same goes for Ende’s internal affairs. When it comes to the world of men, we must remain as ‘eyes’ to the end. We cannot be the ‘mouth’ that disturbs Fate. It is impossible that you do not understand the meaning of this.”

“…”

“Master Wodan,” one of the sorcerers who had, until then, been watching silently opened his mouth, “this man is more dangerous than Reizus. For now, will you imprison him temporarily and urge him to reform? Or will you deal with him as things are?”

Wodan thought about it for a moment.

“Hezel. I will grant you a one week deferment. Rest your body. After that, you will be summoned here once more. If, at that time, your intentions have not changed, I will have to think about locking you in that prison forever. Do you understand?”

“… Aye.” Hezel answered weakly. It was not that he had been overwhelmed by Wodan’s words, but rather that his body’s weakened state had finally taken its toll. And in the first place, this was not a situation in which he could say anything.

Supported on either side by the tattooed soldiers, Hezel was led from the chamber as though being dragged away.

Passing through a long corridor, he was then thrown into a small, bare, square-shaped room.

After the soldiers had left, Hezel, lying face up on the floor, looked up at the low ceiling without stirring.

“I’m young, is it?” A hoarse voice escaped from his cracked lips. "Certainly, I am young. Far more so than my father who has experienced the passing of hundreds of years."

The words he uttered were strange but although his eyes were dim, they held neither anger nor fear nor even irritation.

Instead, his lips formed into a fearless smile.

“I’m a little tired of it here. Ende’s treasured vessels of sorcery aren’t particularly noteworthy. As for simply watching over things... I would rather spread the fires of chaos. Will the centre of the continent soon be ablaze? Or will the ripples from that single stone that I threw extinguish the flames?”

Hezel half raised the upper part of his body and the cowl fell back from his head.

Hezel, a member of Ende’s Bureau of Sorcery, should be the same man who had visited the sorcerer who became Garda during the recent upheaval in the west. Yet the burn which Garda's subordinate, the witch Tahī, had inflicted on his face at the time was nowhere to be seen. 

In fact, his very features had changed. Back then, he had the youthful, handsome face of a young man, but now his pale countenance was somewhat flat and it was hard to tell his actual age.

It was a face that had, in the past, also been seen at the imperial court of Mephius.