CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Deckard, halfway out of his chair, suddenly froze, a twist of anxiety in his stomach.
The weight of the meal and wine felt even more burdensome as he looked at Evylin.
Her expression went slack upon meeting his gaze.
It seemed the Alliance was prepared to reveal their heavy-handed request after all.
Deckard stood up completely, unable to find an excuse to refuse the meeting. “Of course,” he said, raising his voice over the loud footsteps of the hundreds leaving the dining hall. “Would you prefer that we stay at our table?”
“Oh, no.” Archminister Essen waved her hand. “We’ll go somewhere more comfortable, shall we?”
Deckard turned to the table where the others stood. Calyn watched him and Evylin with her lips pressed together in anxious expectation. “Excuse me, but my sister-in-law,” he motioned toward her, “can she join us?”
“I’m sorry, but no,” Essen responded. “This meeting is reserved for those who were on the team to retrieve the Ateri Relics. Shall we arrange for Clerk Fairburne to take her back to your apartment?”
Deckard glanced at Calyn, who looked disappointed. She clearly wanted to attend the dance, but without a chaperon or at least one acquaintance, it would be improper.
“I can take care of her, sir,” Cris Lohen addressed Deckard, drawing the rest of the table’s attention.
“I bet you can,” Thom muttered slyly.
Brea jabbed her elbow into his stomach, causing him to gasp. She held Deckard’s gaze steadily. “My nephew is as honorable as they come,” she promised. “He will be sure Calyn is safe and cared for.”
After checking with Evylin, Deckard nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Lohen,” he said. “We would appreciate that.”
When Cris offered his arm to Calyn, a soft pink flush worked across her cheeks. She accepted his escort, and they walked toward the door together.
The ministers proceeded to guide the troop through a side entrance from the dining hall.
They navigated through more winding corridors, eventually arriving at a cozy meeting room.
The walls bore murals of the western moors and eastern Shires, and several large tables formed an unconnected square.
The ministers sat around three of the tables while the troop took the chairs at the fourth.
A fireplace blazed at the rear of the room while several servants busily arranged fresh glasses of wine at each table setting.
The ministers swiftly settled into the divide between East and West: Archminister Essen on the right, Archminister Dudleye on the left.
The Calder parents sat on the Western side as well, retaining their interim roles.
As though they’d rehearsed, the troop sat down, leaving the center seat for Deckard. He wet his lips, steeling himself, and took the seat.
Essen and Dudleye exchanged a nod before the woman spoke.
“Thank you all for coming to this late meeting,” she said, her dark eyes sparkling in the room’s warm glow.
“Although we’ve just arrived, we want to provide you a day of rest and celebration tomorrow, so we thought it wise to handle these matters right away. ”
Those around Deckard shared glances, although none of them spoke as they awaited the Eastern archminister’s next words.
“First,” she beamed at them, “let us express our genuine gratitude: We owe you a debt of thanks. For everything you’ve done and all you’ve sacrificed, we are forever grateful to you.”
The chorus of acknowledgment and gratitude expressed by the other ministers resonated throughout the room for a brief moment. It was, much like all else in Aulton, as authentic as Deckard could conceive. Their remarks were strikingly sincere.
However, it didn’t ease the tightness coiling in his stomach.
Archminister Essen clasped her hands in a prayer-like gesture. “With the Alliance in control and Allund gaining momentum, we can advance now. While several matters still need to be addressed to ensure the nation’s smooth operation and integrity, that process will require time.
“Given the current relationship between the Alliance and the people, we feel we can confidently set our sovereigns in place. You have all protected the Relics well, but we wish them to be granted to the Bonded Warriors and Mages who will be their bearers for the next century or more. Over time, we believe the Relics will add to the stability and vitality of our nation. But they are also great threats to our safety, as the ancient Mages understood.”
Dudleye nodded, taking over the lead as he said, “A millennium ago, the ancient Mages locked the Ateri Relics away due to the wars and greed caused by their power.
This kept the vilest of Mages from obtaining their deep power, but it also caused our world to deteriorate.
The creatures of legend faded, the weather shifted, and magic waned.
With their return, we will experience a righting of Terraeus to the world Allore intended it to be.
However, this comes with the weight of protecting these Relics well.
“Once the world discovers the truth and power of these Relics, they will come for them,” Dudleye concluded. “Our chancellors and commanders of each province will be responsible for keeping them safe.”
Deckard wanted to squirm but forced himself to remain still. However, he did allow himself to ask, “Do you mind explaining what the rule of Allund looks like in your eyes?”
At his question, the ministers turned surprised looks their way. “You don’t know?” Archminister Essen asked.
“We were never told,” Evylin replied.
During their travels, Auden and Ilain disclosed fragments of the Alliance’s plans for the nation; however, the complete narrative remained unknown to them.
Their knowledge was limited to the involvement of Mages and Warriors in government and the ministers’ efforts to maintain the organization in the interim.
The information provided still lacked clarity and official confirmation.
As they faced a nation that they had contributed to establishing, Deckard felt that they were entitled to this degree of transparency now.
The ministers looked to Ilain, who pursed her lips. “Our minds weren’t exactly on the minutiae of governmental policy,” she offered.
Dudleye raised his hand to gain everyone’s attention.
“Allow me to clarify. The Allundan government has two elements: a democratic republic and an oligarchy. The republic includes the Administration.” He gestured to the fifteen individuals beside him.
“Every four years, a vote will be taken to choose the ministers for each province. Some ministers might change while others stay, based on the election results. Each of Allund’s provinces—four in the East and four in the West—must have one male and one female representative.
These representatives shall serve the people and their concerns.
“Each settlement will have magistrates to ensure a direct line of communication.
To prevent corruption and biased voting, an annual census will be conducted.
This will align with the yearly search for magic in each settlement, offering an accurate representation of the population.
When voting begins, citizens from each settlement will be verified against the census records.
A minister must be at least thirty-five years old and demonstrate good standing in their community to qualify for the position.
To promote fair name recognition, candidates will submit a summary of their achievements for posting by the magistrates, ensuring everyone has an equal opportunity.
Other forms of campaigning will not be allowed.
“The Administration’s aim is to ensure that the oligarchy remains aware of the people’s needs and wishes.
The ministers will function both as advisors and checks on power.
We want our leaders to consider the public in all their actions, whether magical or otherwise.
This is not a rule of oppression but a rule of service. ”
Dudleye inhaled deeply before he spoke again.
“The oligarchy,” he declared, “will govern with the goal of maintaining unity throughout the nation while ensuring the safety of its citizens.
It will consist of the heads of the eight provinces—or what are currently called the eight Orders.
Each province will be overseen by a Bonded couple who will train the next generation of Mages and Warriors to safeguard and serve the populace, just as they were initially intended to do.
“The Administration will personally select these magical rulers for their initial term. In subsequent iterations, the Head of the Order will choose the heirs. Since these rulers may live hundreds of years before their heirs take over, this role will necessitate ongoing selections. We have several magical methods to guarantee a continuous line of heirs for this position.”
The archminister clasped his hands on the table. “Does that satisfactorily answer your question?”
The tension in Deckard’s stomach was nearly so strong that he struggled to breathe. The explanation answered his question, but not with any degree of satisfaction. At least, not personal satisfaction.
If he set aside his ties to the government and evaluated the plan carefully, he could recognize its many merits.
Naturally, there were some gaps and questions that came to mind, but he didn’t believe this brief response represented the entirety of what the Administration could provide.
They had been developing this plan for generations.
The Alliance was established soon after the Centurial War commenced but originated far before the divide of Ephria and Wauld, carrying back to the time when the Aulden Mages ruled with tyranny.
They would undoubtedly have responses to any inquiries he might raise.
Unable to formulate any response through his dry throat, Deckard nodded.