After the Fall

[Slipknaut]

-=Rimrock Hall, New Constantinople

Grand Duke Tycho Andris, as he reclined in his chair in the darkstone council chambers at Rimrock Hall, felt old. He felt very old. He was lucky; he didn't possess the attendant aches and pains that usually followed in old age; he had been chosen a long time ago to receive longevity treatments. In his mind, however, the length and breadth of his accomplishments and his life stretched before him, from that fateful day in the lost Tyrion Archive, to the night Anikar's machinations propelled her to the throne, to today. The homeworld was lost, consumed by the Great Carnivore. The Empire had been ravaged by the War of the Ring; billions of lives had been lost, and much of the Empire's great fleet with it. Anikar had disappeared shortly before the calamities struck, along with the Fist, which had only returned during the Siege of New Constantinople. High Admirals Govannon and Absalom had re-established order in the chaos following the loss of the homeworld and Anikar through the menace of force; but had done it in the Empress's name. They reassured the people that she would return, and in the mean time, convened the High Council - or what remained - here. Here he had come.

Many men were in the room, most of them, to Tycho, faceless, unknowns. A couple he picked out - his old friend, Diodotus Vasco, and Anariel the Diplomat General. She stood alongside the High Admirals, seemingly deep in conversation, and they had all convened at the head of the room. The Admirals were listening intently to the Diplomat General, some with faces looking off into the distance at some distant imagined hope, others twisted in a scowl of doubt. Soon enough, though, the group broke up and High Admiral John Hyce produced a gavel, and rapped upon the hardwood table.

"This meeting of the Arizonan High Council will come to order!" he bellowed over the mumbling chatter in the room. Once it had quieted down, he continued, "Not in a hundred years, gentlemen, has a council such as this been called, and not in a thousand years will matters of such grave import ever come up again. I will not reiterate our losses to you - all of you, from the least of us to the greatest, have lost something and someone to the Carnivore, and the numbers march ceaselessly through news reports anyway. That one never appreciates something until it is gone is a lesson we are all learning in bitter sadness."

Admiral Govannon paused, gauging the men in the room. All of them sat in silence, and he let the moment hang in reverence to the dead, and then he continued,

"Yet we must continue on. We must continue to establish anew the guiding light of order in the void, continue to bring our mission of peace and justice to far shores. We must do it, for the sake of those that have been lost to us - to avenge their deaths on the chaos and the evil that lie in the dark places of this universe."

At this some of the councilmen rapped their fists upon the table in agreement, while others maintained their stoic silence and downurned faces, staring off into an untouchable and lost past.

"Yes I must ask - who here still considers themselves to follow our Empress, Anikar?" asked Admiral Govannon with some distrust; the statement also did not merit the same applause his last had. Silence reigned again, but colder.

"I see that chaos has already taken root in the hearts of some of you here," he said reprovingly, "Now, I will share with you something that you do not yet know - Anikar lives. When the Fist broke from Salmath in pursuit of the Empress, we pursued her trail until the news of the Core's fall reached us. She is out there somewhere, and I have every confidence she will return. Yet I am not going to suggest that the High Admirals be made rulers in the interim - far from it, actually. Anariel has given me a proposal - one that comes from our ally Arenumberg - that will do us far better, especially in these contentious times."

Anariel looked up at the Admiral and gave a grateful nod. "My thanks, Admiral Govannon. I hope that you fully understand its ramifications, though."

Turning back towards the council chambers, she continued, "For what I have to offer is probably more revolutionary than any dystopian thalassocracy you honorable members of the High Council may be thinking of, but far more attractive."

She cleared her throat, and began: "Before the Kendari war began, I had gone to Arenumberg to re-establish diplomatic relations with their succeeding government. They, like us, have suffered a terrible calamity, though we still control many worlds. They lost everything in the Khurgan war, to the point that it was just the desperate remnants of their fleet crash-landing upon a deserted world that remained of their empire. I guaranteed our alliance with Arenumberg again with Lady Ythera, but she presented another offer entirely - to unite Arizona Nova and Arenumberg in a Federation."

Anariel paused, letting the words sink in for affect. The sullen council now at least seemed more animated than before, with many of them now lending a far more intent ear.

"It would operate, ideally, in a fashion similar to what we undertook a millenia ago with the first Unification Treaty - we would submerge our authorities in one Federal authority, composed out of both of our states but above them."

"But this..." interjected one of the more pessimistic looking-councilmen, Herbert Ashby, "wouldn't this be subversion in your book? Stealing the throne out from under the Empress while she is away?"

Anariel replied, "The Empress would retain her position within Arizona Nova as the head of state, and quite likely have a position within the Federal government, when she returns. She would simply not be able to exercise military power - at least, not without oversight - like before. In fact..."

Anariel reached down to a stack of papers that were beside her. "I have brought," she said, "preliminary drafts of a possible constitution that define the powers of all the governments involved. I shall pass them out now for you to look at," she said as she began handing stacks of the Constitution to the council members.

"This is rather sudden," interjected councilman Jahr Rallin. "Is the nation ready for something like this? Especially now..."

"Yes," Anariel said. "Now more than ever. Arenumberg is one of our closest allies, you realize - most of the conditions exist already. It is simply the matter of making it official. Both our nations are also suffering from our mutual calamities - we must support one another in this time, I should think."

Admiral Absalom cleared his throat and spoak up. "Indeed; I find myself agreeing with our Diplomat General in these things. However, we must be moving on - there is much more to cover before this council is completed."

So the meeting continued, moving on from the offer to corporate matters to the possiblity of continuing the hunt for the Ring after it's fleeing into deep space, all debated in turn. Yet, before the end, Anariel pulled out one more surprise - a call for a vote on the matter of Union with Arenumberg. The call was accepted, and once more she and her supporters aired their hopes - and others, their concerns - and a vote was taken, with the final results being 15-4 in favor of the Union. Arenumbergian delegates were invited soon after to convene on Ondataru for the ratification of the articles, and the final seal of the union of of the two nations.

***

-=Three Months Later: Arrisian Commons, Ondataru

The early morning sun crept over the horizon as Anithraldur took a breath of the fresh spring air at the Arrisian Commons. The Council had chosen Ondataru - his homeworld - as the place for the signing of the Constitution. As good a time as any to finally emerge from his long retirement, he had reasoned, so he took the nearest and most convenient skybus to the great Commons. He had mixed feelings about the event - this spirit of submitting one's sovereignty to a greater, more far-reaching vision had been what sparked Arizona Nova's original unification; that long-ago battle which he had fought for in blood and words, but at the same time he felt a little like he had only just helped birth Arizona Nova as a nation only to see it subsumed by another entity not his own, and alien in identity. If he had any such doubts, though, he pushed them away. His day had passed long ago, and he came merely as an observer.

The other delegates had shown surprise and happiness at this unexpected reappearance of the "Old Man of the Empire," especially the woman of the hour, the eternal Diplomat General. She and the other delegates were enjoying a bottle of Terran cola; freshly delivered for the occasion, and a luxury rarely seen in these days. They talked pleasantly, and of affairs informal and far off - the time of debate and discussion had ended long ago, and the event looming was a foregone conclusion - or at least, they hoped as much. It would be a shame if things had gone so far only to be suddenly and illogically cut off. After the greetings, though, Anithraldur had excused himself, preferring to sit a ways off in silence to meditate on things.

He didn't have long to do so, for not five minutes after there came skimming over the treetops the Arenumbergian diplomatic vessel, it's smooth red-white exterior resplendant in the rising sun, the shine of its hull sending sparks of light playing all over the court. It set down upon the nearby landing pad with little fanfair, a gentle whir of its engines the only aural sign of its onset. Anithraldur stood with the rest of the delegates in respect to the arrival of their allies.

[Arenumberg]

The Elegant Vessel softly placed itself upon the landing pad, It quickly extended a ramp, and opened its lush interior to allow the Arenumbergian delegation to disembark.

3 Tall Elegant forms slowly walked down the recently extended ramp, it now became obvious that a Woman, flanked by 2 Váer-Caiër, Their tale-tale red and gold armour shining brightly in the light.

The Woman herself was Shalara Thelain, The newly appointed Grand Ambassador. Her attire was simple, yet elegant, maybe for ceremonial purposes or some other reason, she carried a exquisitely crafted blue staff. She had the characteristic green eyes that had become a trait of her people, with the piercing glow, offset by the flowing golden hair on her head.

The three halted themselves at the bottom of the ramp and awaited the Arizonans to approach them - She held herself in the stance that had become all but a pseudonym of Arenumberg itself, Arrogant, yet elegant, and slightly bored.

Of course, as the Arizonans came closer she pulled herself into a more diplomatic posture. She smiled and nodded at the opposing delegation.

"Que'Shala, My Friends, I am Grand Ambassador Thelain, And I am pleased to meet you.. Forgive my rudeness - But should we dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business?"

[Arizona Nova]

The High Admirals and Anariel quickly went over to the arriving of the Arenumbergian delegation, giving deep bows. Admiral Govannon greeted her cheerily.

"Welcome here, Grand Ambassador Thelain. Yes indeed, let us begin this."

The group walked over to the open aired hall, a sort of long and elegantly crafted gazebo and sat down at the long table. Passed around on sheets with gilded trim were the articles of the treaty. Discussion followed in its wake as the delegates reviewed them. The Arenumbergian delegates found them acceptable - until coming to the term dealing with the state's capital. Within the initial terms, it had suggested Koratu as the capital, but the Arenumbergians would hear none of that. Koratu was lost to them, a painful reminder of the merciless Khurganate. On this point edits were quickly and agreeably made; while the Arizonan framers had thought Koratu would have been a good symbolic and historical sight for the capital, they also understood the pain and remorse a lost world symbolized for a civilization; even now no earnest effort had gone forth to reclaim the shattered, smouldering remnants of Arizona Prime. The article was changed instead to allow for the designation of a new capital within a two decade time frame. Discussion went on for hours like that until all the terms were finally ironed out. Rising up to the main copy of the Constitution, The High Admirals, the Grand Dukes, and Anariel applied their signature to the document. Their movement calculated and almost otherwordly, the Arenumbergians also came over unto the Treaty and applied their signatures to it. Beaming, just as the rays of the setting sun bathed the Arrisian Commons in their soft light, Admiral Govannon, Anariel, and Anithraldur extended their hands in friendship to the Arenumbergians - but no longer Arenumbergians, no longer Arizona Novanians, but citizens of the New Republic - the Federal Republic of Ilë Sornë. Soon after the delegates dispersed to their homes, now under a common flag and treaty to ponder their future, and what it would bring. Some lingered, however - Anithraldur soon went over and leaned upon a nearby rail, looking into a pictureque ravine. He was soon joined by Anariel.

"It's almost surreal, isn't it?" he queried her. "They arrive, and we go over this history changing treaty like it was a tea party. Only issue is the capital, we all sign and everyone goes home singing a song it seems."

Anariel simply smiled at him. "Sometimes those things go smoothest what we expect not to. Truth be told, I had feared all along things would break down here, irreperably. I am glad of this."

Anithraldur nodded, still looking into the distance. "It grows late, though," he said. "I should be returning home then. Back to New Constantinople with you then?"

"Indeed," agreed Anariel. "There is much to do."

***

Anithraldur returned to his home later that night. It was no huge palace or hermit's shack, just a quiet, unassuming medium sized house, deep in the woods in the forest on the Isle of Kant. He parked his car, went inside and hung up his cloak in the entryway. The house was dark, not that this was unusual. Something else was off, though - then he heard it.

"Hello old man. It's been a while."

His eyes widened as he gazed into the dim confines of the room beyond.

Impossible... that voice...

"Are you going to stand there gawking all night? If you insist... I have the time, of course."

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice resolute. "Why have you come?"

"Perhaps our last meeting wasn't on the best terms, my old friend. That isn't any way to greet me though."

"Was rule not enough, or do I have something more you desire?" he growled to the darkness.

"Rule! What is it now? You have no idea old fool!" responded the voice, angrily. "You don't know... no idea what it's like, to wake up and find your life, everything you remember or believed, was a lie, a lie you crafted yourself and a trap you made for your own mind! You don't know why and you don't know how it happened. You have the security of knowing your purpose and your place. What do I have? The knowledge that all my desires and dreams were absymal foolishness! I dreamt of glory and conquest unparelleled in all history, but what am I really? A pawn, a shepherd for self-aware sheep! That is my purpose, Anithraldur! Could you live with that?"

Silence.

"Could you?" the voice repeated angrily.

"What... what are you?" he asked.

Two glowing eyes appeared in the darkness, shimmering deadly.

"Your mind couldn't begin to comprehend it, Anithraldur. The closest explanation I could give without blowing your fragile human psyche into so much ether would be that I am a messiah, but my mission parameters became... corrupted. To correct the problem, I began rationalizing my actions, and in the process, forgot what I was. The Truth has come out, though. It always does."

"Then why are you here?" he demanded, terror creeping into his soul, seeming to strangle hope from him.

"That is where the answers stop," the voice said, the eyes dimming. "I don't know, Anithraldur. You're the only human I ever met who had wielded power like I had, and the only one who lost it so suddenly as I had."

A little fight came back into Anithraldur at that: "You're wrong. I didn't lose it, I gave it away freely."

"Whatever the truth of that statement, it makes you all the more curious. Then tell me... what should I do?"

Again, silence.

The voice continued, "No advice? Or should I hide myself away on some island too, and try to forget? Except it'll just be starting the cycle all over again!"

"You fear it so much, but it sounds inevitable? Is it not possible to let go?"

The voice snickered. "Let go? And return to what? You think I could go back? After all this? Your Christianity may have parables about prodigal sons, but I doubt they'll slaughter the fattened calf for such as I."

"How do you know until you try?"

"Because if I try and I am wrong, then what? Then what?" the voice demanded angrily.

"Then there is an end to it," he offered simply.

"There is never an end," the voice growled in reply. "Such as you should know that. And not for me." Anithraldur heard the sound of pacing, as if the speaker had gotten up, and walked to a window.

"I am Destiny, and it is my lot to wander," said the voice. "Ironic, isn't it?"

Anithraldur started. "What? Then who..."

"You think my affinity for the elven people was a complete coincidence? What is their word for destiny?"

"A... anikaera..."

"Made into a name, and it's Anikar. The trap was so affective I even forgot the meaning of my name."

"So it is you! What happened?" Anithraldur gasped.

"Idiot!" the voice returned angrily. "I REMEMBERED!* And it was enough!" the voice thundered; the very house seemed to tremble.

"But how?" he asked, desperately.

"I don't know. They... did something, I don't know what, or if they even meant it to happen!"

"They who?" Anithraldur asked again.

"That damned Judas of mine... and, apparently, my sister."

"Your sister?" he asked. "Wait... that monster, who destroyed the homeworld... she is your sister?"

"Have you become addle-brained old man? Has the millenium of your unnatural life finally gotten to you? Yes, we're sisters. Cousins. Again, your mind couldn't comprehend our link, not without turning itself inside out in the process. They say I went mad, but I only understood. It makes me wonder just how many madmen your species has locked away who simply understood things too. But I digress. Surely your fragile little monkey brain could pick up on the 'subtle' theme of our names? Fate? Destiny? For the love of whatever god rules this universe, don't make me make it simpler."

"I get that," he grumbled.

"Still sore over the planet then?"

Now the anger was Anithraldur's. "The planet? You fool! It was the planet - the history - the billions of lives she snuffed out!"

"All you worked so hard to build?" replied the voice wryly.

"Bu... not just that!"

"Oh really?" she replied.

"You're enjoying this, damn you!"

"It isn't very Christian to condemn an unbeliever to Hell, old man. Shouldn't you be proselytizing?"

"If you're going to sit there all night and try to get a rise out of me, it's not going to work."

"You're right. I should go."

"Wha, wait!" said Anithraldur. "And do what?"

"I'm going to make her pay, Anithraldur. Even if I have to do it the only way I know how to, even if it means forgetting all over again."

"And... what?" he said.

"I'm going to beat her at her own game, if it is the last thing I do. You... could come with, if you pleased."

"Me?" he asked incredulous. "Why?"

"I need to remember. I can't, however, tell anyone I please about things. You're as trustworthy a human as can be found; five-hundred years, and you kept your promises. I should have gone looking here, before digging up unstable but genius constructs out of the digisent nurseries, really."

"Well," he said, scratching his head. "What is your plan?"