Chapter Thirty-Seven
Cormal
Perian stiffened at Brannal’s side.
With an appearance of calm, Brannal said, “We’ll never know for certain, because they’re dead, but I like to think that if they learned there was a way to prevent future senseless killings, where their friends and colleagues were safer and less likely to die, then they’d be all for it.”
“You’re asking us to accept demons who tried to kill us!”
It was the woman from the sixth district this time.
Perian responded, “And we are being asked to expose ourselves to people who have tried to kill us for centuries. Life Magic has been lost for a reason. You may be angry or scared, but so are the Life Mages and carnalions on the other end of the equation. It will not be easy, but this is a chance to change that for both sides.”
Kinan jumped in. “In addition to growing to a place where this means our citizens will have less to be frightened of, there are also material benefits to humans. Perian and Trill have already helped heal multiple people, including me, my sister Larenia, Molun, and Sopellan. This is the kind of healing that we’ve not seen for centuries, and it’s something we should be fighting to preserve. ”
Kinan went on to explain the nature of each of the injuries and how Trill and Perian had been able to completely heal all of them.
Sopellan and Molun were brought in so that everyone could gawk at them, and the doctor came with them so that she could corroborate what Kinan had said.
The councilors had all spent time with Molun in the last few months and had seen how much trouble he’d had getting around.
They didn’t all know Sopellan, but most had heard of him—and some of them had seen him when he had one fewer limb.
There was a lot of shock on those faces. They had clearly not expected something this extreme. Some of them looked… calculating now.
“This is a finite resource that belongs to the people who wield the magic,” Cormal interjected, making sure his voice was stern as he stared the councilors in the eyes one by one.
“These people get to choose what they want to do with their life, and they can’t heal constantly.
Like Elemental Mages, their magic has limits, and it can be depleted.
But hopefully this gives you an idea of how beneficial our proposed changes could be.
There is an entire branch of magic that was nearly snuffed out when we decided to fear all demons above common sense.
These people fear for their lives constantly, or are sometimes unaware of what they can do because they’ve been so hidden.
We have the chance to change that, to allow them to learn and grow and be able to do this freely. Surely, that is something we want.”
They let Sopellan and Molun escape. Molun made a face at him as he left, and Cormal tried not to laugh—and not to wish desperately that he could follow.
“Are there any questions for the doctor?”
There were several minutes of somewhat invasive questions. The doctor calmly answered them—and occasionally told them something was none of their business. Then she, too, was allowed to escape.
There were some contemplative expressions on a few faces, which Cormal thought was a good sign—but the ninth councilor was still in rare form.
“We have only your word for all this amazing healing,” he grumbled.
Cormal pointed towards the door. “Did you just miss the last few minutes?”
The man’s face went red. “It could all be a trick!”
Kinan, more diplomatic than Cormal would ever be, said, “I’m also now tangible in addition to visible. How could that be a trick?”
The ninth councilor gestured at Perian. “It could all be him! He could have orchestrated it all!”
Perian blinked at him, looking genuinely taken aback, and he repeated blankly, “Orchestrated… what happened to Kinan?”
“Yes!” the obnoxious man spat. “And then you showed up and were able to offer this amazing cure. Ridiculous!”
For a moment, Perian just continued to stare at the man, like he couldn’t quite comprehend. Finally, he said, “At the time of the attack, I was fifteen years old. I hadn’t even come into my magic yet.”
“So you say,” the man spat. “We don’t know how those wraiths got into the castle!”
Perian didn’t so much as glance Cormal’s way. “I think you can quite safely assume that it wasn’t somehow at the instigation of a fifteen-year-old stranger.”
The man dug in. “It’s always been suspicious!”
The Queen interceded. “The circumstances were indeed suspicious. But they are no longer a mystery. Unfortunately, Tramad, our former Summus, believed that the secret to magic that could heal the King was related to demons. He brought the wraiths into the castle in his attempt to assist my husband.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the room erupted in a babble of noise.
Cormal was… less upset than he’d thought he’d be.
This was his father’s thirty-year legacy, but…
Tramad was the one who’d ruined it, if anyone had.
Cormal had let that secret eat him up inside, and he couldn’t express how glad he was that it wasn’t his to carry anymore.
The Queen had chosen to put the kindest possible interpretation on the man’s actions, and Cormal wasn’t totally sure he deserved that, but…
maybe it wasn’t just for him. Maybe it was for Cormal and for all these councilors and everyone who lived in the castle and might otherwise feel unsafe.
Onadal and Brannal seemed to have a conversation solely with their eyebrows. Onadal nodded faintly, and Cormal assumed they’d all be talking about the details later.
The Queen let the councilors talk for a couple of minutes and then called them back to order.
Cormal had hoped that they could be productive now, but no, the ninth councilor was still being pugnacious. Robbed of his first asinine theory, he had another accusation to lob.
“What about the people they’ve hurt? Do you just expect us to forget about it?”
Kinan answered the ninth councilor before Perian could. “Yes.”
This seemed to surprise them.
“We have to,” Kinan continued. “There is no way we can expect anyone to reveal themselves if we can turn around and imprison them or worse for things they might have done in the past. We need to figure out how to move forward, and we need to do that by forgiving the past.”
“Outrageous!” the ninth councilor exclaimed. “They’re demons who hurt people.” He pointed accusingly at Perian. “You killed a man!”
Brannal bristled visibly, and Cormal wondered about the self-control that was preventing him from just…
destroying the ninth councilor. Brannal could take out the entire council before anyone could stop him if he so chose.
(And honestly, Cormal was beginning to think that might be the easiest way to start over.)
Probably thankfully, Perian spoke. His voice shook a little, but it was clear.
“A man did die when I acted to defend myself, yes. A man who had already been convicted and sentenced, escaped his sentence, and proceeded to abet my kidnapping, restrain me, attempt to assault me, and then attempt to kill me. He was choking me, and I was afraid for my life. With no other options, I fought back with everything I had, Councilor. Though I sincerely hope no similar situation will ever arise, I would do so again if I had to.”
Voice tense but even, Brannal added, “And as we have already said, Cormal and I and other Mage Warriors have killed carnalions—and maybe Life Mages, not understanding the full situation. We need them to forgive our past transgressions as well. We’re not just asking humans to trust demons.
We’re asking carnalions and Life Mages to reveal themselves to a group of people who have historically killed them on sight.
Humans vastly outnumber carnalions and Life Mages, and it isn’t the humans who will be endangered by this. ”
There was some muttering from the councilors.
The fifth councilor cleared his throat. “Could we perhaps see a live demonstration of this healing? I think that might put more of us at ease.”
Trill was called in, and Molun and Arvus came with him, as well as the doctor.
“We didn’t ask for you!” the ninth councilor exclaimed.
Flatly, Arvus said, “We’re not leaving Trill in here alone.”
The ninth councilor’s face went bright red. “Your Majesty!” he exclaimed loudly. “How can we trust a word these people are saying? They’re clearly under the influence of these carnalions!”
“Neither Trill nor I are carnalions, Councilor,” Perian corrected calmly.
Trill shuffled a bit closer to Molun and Arvus. It hadn’t exactly helped matters, but Cormal wouldn’t have wanted Kinan to come in here alone, either—and Kinan had a lot more experience with the councilors than Trill did.
It was Brannal who said, “I’m not sure how you think carnalion seduction works, but I assure you, it doesn’t leave people calmly rational enough to have a conversation like this. It’s overwhelming lust, Councilor, for the carnalion doing the seducing. That’s all the victim can think about.”
“You said victim!” the ninth councilor crowed.
“Yes,” Brannal agreed dryly, looking at the man like he was stupid.
No argument from Cormal. “Altering people’s feelings without their consent would be a crime.
As we have already explained, we aren’t arguing that carnalions and children of two worlds be allowed to do whatever they wish if that contravenes the country’s laws.
We’re arguing that they shouldn’t be convicted of a crime before they’ve committed it. ”
The ninth councilor was on his feet, gesticulating wildly to his fellow councilors. “Look at this! They’re clearly not in their right minds! I demand this travesty be brought to an end immediately!”
Two fireballs blossomed in Cormal’s clenched fists, and everyone in the room froze.
“Sit down,” Cormal ordered.
The man stared at him with huge eyes.
“Sit. Down. Right. Now.”
The man sat.