Grace Like The Rain [Ceaden]

[Lakota]

Please do not comment on this. This is a work I am required to submit to the Ceaden community, so... yeah.

Present

The Saffriana Cartel watched as the sun rose into the sky, majestic and beautiful. It would soon be autumn, and everyone was preparing for the festival. The children were practicing with their swords, the adults were repairing the floating lanterns, and the elders were simply there, bringing encouragement to all. Everyone was happy. Well, all except for one...

Lord Jahaal R'hikna looked as the tell-tale signs of rain began to appear on his window. Like ink on parchment, the drops trickled down almost enchantingly. However, the Lord was not one who would be distracted so easily. "Kyoro, close the doors," he snapped. "This conversation is important, and I don't want any ears (other than yours or mine) listening to this."

"My lord, I-"

"Do it! Now!" Commander Kyoro nodded, shocked at Lord Jahaal's unusual behavior. It was strange to see him so tense in a time like this; only recently had he parted with his joyful, caring demeanor. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the Darkness had returned?

Jahaal waited until the doors were completely shut before continuing. "I heard that you allowed several foreigners onto the island, and," he said quietly, interrupting Kyoro's reply, "did it without my permission."

"My lord, if I may, I would like to include that they were the last survivors of a frigate wrecked by the storms! To refuse the pleas of the helpless would be going against the Saffrian code!"

"It does not matter what the code says! They are still foreigners! They do not belong here! Saffriana intended to make this place a sanctuary, and that is how it will remain!" Jahaal took out one of his knives, and Kyoro cowered in fear.

"Please, my lord! Have I not served you with my life," she said, trembling? "Have mercy upon me!"

Jahaal's eyes hardened, and the commander held out her hands, but to her surprise, Jahaal quickly resumed his calm expression. "Slaying someone on the week of the Autumn Festival would be terrible," he said to himself. "You may leave, Kyoro, but do not expect me to spare you a second time. I hope you will think better next time!"

Too afraid (and perhaps shocked) to speak, the general simply nodded and left. "That was disgraceful, Jahaal," called a voice from the shadows. "You are bringing dishonor to the Saffriana Cartel!"

"Silence," Jahaal thundered! "You are only a blademaster! Why should I trust you with anything?"

A heavily scarred soldier walked towards the Lord, his many blades at his side. "You were once the pride of our nation. 'The skies and the oceans are humbled before the Lord', the people once said!" The soldier slammed his iron hand against the wall. "Now look at you! You have succumbed to the darkness," he chided, "and expect us to carry your burden!"

"I said silence," Jahaal yelled once more! "Hireh, you have no authority over me! I do as I chose!"

"You're no better than Mersefur was!" Even Jahaal flinched at this; only HIreh could utter that cursed name without trembling in fear. "We do not do as you command; you do as the people command! The Cartel was formed to give the commoners a chance to speak, to think, to learn! If you are to oppress them, why should we have banded together in the first place?"

A long silence followed afterwards, carrying the echo of Hireh's words. The Lord's fists unclenched, and he sighed. "Leave me, Hireh," he said with the little strength he had left. "I will tell you when I have changed. Until then, you will follow my commands!"

Hireh bowed slightly and left, his footsteps heavy with anger and -could it be?- sorrow. Lord Jahaal stood there, as still as a statue, watching the veteran leave.

[Lakota]

One week earlier

"Fire!"

Commander Zenn watched helplessly as his mens' bolts ricotched off the iron siege tower. They had fought here for three days at the outpost of Estell, and had barely avoided defeat on several occasions. Now, they were at the brink of destruction once again, and Zenn doubted that he would be able to hold off for long.

An arrow flew from the sky, piercing through the commander's arm. The screams of the dying were endless, and Zenn couldn't help but feel the heavy burden of defeat. He watched as the incoming horde sliced through the Saffrian army, burning those who were still alive. "No," he said, shaking! "We cannot die like this! We-" He grimaced and pulled out his arrow. "-are citizens of the Cartel!"

Slowly, the ruthless made their way to him. "What do we have here? A commander," chuckled one? "If the rest of the world is like you, I should be able to capture it with a foxtrap!" The stranger wiped his sword in the grass and prepared for the kill. "Die like the rest of your scum!"

"Forgive me, my lord. I have forsaken your name," whispered Zenn. Then the claymore came down upon him, and he was no more.

***

Five days earlier

"What?" Lord Jahaal stood up, shocked and confused. "Is this true?"

"I would never lie to you, my lord! Zenn and his army have been defeated!" The scout took out Zenn's sword, the only piece of him that they could find. "The foreign devils have iron ballistae that spew fire, and they have lances longer than any you've ever seen!"

Jahaal covered his eyes with his right hand, apparently in frustration. In truth, he was actually crying, as Zenn had been a good friend of his, but to cry in public mean weakness, and only in the worst circumstances were you allowed to do it. As soon as his tears went away, he adjusted his robes and said, "Did he give any last words? Perhaps something of meaning?"

"No, my lord. He did not. I checked every pocket, but nothing came out. I am deeply sorry."

Lord Jahaal looked the scout into the eyes, and the soldier noticed a change: the lord's once calm eyes had turned violent; his body tense and furious. "I will make those mongrels pay for what they have done! Give me Zenn's sword!"

The scout looked surprised. "But my lord-"

"Give it to me! I will avenge my brethren!"

Never before had the scout seen Jahaal so angry before. Quaking in fear, he held out Zenn's sword. The weapon was quickly taken from him as Jahaal left his castle, intent on getting revenge.

[Lakota]

Present

Jahaal stepped out into the rain, wielding his umbrella. He still had not recovered from the death of Zenn, and each drop of rain reminded him of the tears of defeat. He sighed, watching as his breath turned into mist. It seemed that, no matter how many armies he slaughtered, no matter how many times blood stained his sword, no matter how many heads he severed, he could not ignore the dreadful evil that was settling upon the land.

Five days ago, he had stormed into the mongrel camp. Five days ago he dispatched guards as if they were mere insects. Five years ago he watched as the commander who had taken Zenn's life begged for mercy, and as his breathing was slowly cut off, his heart to beat no more. If anything, he should be at peace, like he used to be.

But that was not the case. All Jahaal felt was fear; fear over the darkness that was slowly enveloping the Cartel. He was afraid that his caring ways had weakened his people to the new threat that was coming towards them. As Mizuka had said, "discipline is a warrior's greatest weapon". Surely enforcing his laws more harshly would help the Cartel?

"After all," he said. "I'm only doing it for the people... right?"

He continued to walk, tormented by the darkness that was approaching and the fact that only he could stop it.

***

One hour later

The Seers' Den was usually visited by the poverty-stricken; those who wanted to change their lives and were hoping for the best. So it was a surprise to see Lord Jahaal enter the den, and the commoners couldn't help but feel sorry for the mystics within.

"My lord," said one of the oracles, bowing before Jahaal. "What brings you here today?"

"I would like to see what my future holds," replied the Lord. The oracle quietly led him to a small room, bare except for a small pit. She took out a small bag of dragon bones and said, "Hold out your wrist, my lord."

Jahaal silently rolled up one of his sleeves, making sure to hide the many traps he concealed there. The seer dipped her hand in ink and make a symbol on it. "This is so the spirits will know that you are neither an seer nor undead," she explained. Chanting, the mystic started grinding the dragon bones in her hand, sprinkling the remains in a circle.

Suddenly, a blue fire burst out of the dust, and Jahaal jumped, startled. The seer continued to chant, and ghostly wail began to eminate from the ground, moans of pure sorrow and hatred. The flames became bigger and bigger, and Jahaal was afraid that they would consume the entire building. "Stop," he yelled! "Do you want us all to be killed?"

The fire stopped, and at first, Jahaal thought that the spirits were obeying him after all. Then, the ghostly image of Zenn appeared. "My lord," he said, bowing.

The Lord gasped. "Commander Zenn! Why-" He coughed. "Why did you let the enemy take Estell? Our people are in danger because of your loss!"

"I am sorry, Lord R'hikna," the commander replied. "I held off until my last breath, and even then I could deter them. I am not worthy to be in your presence." Slowly, the commander began to sink back into the earth.

"Wait," said Jahaal. He was shocked; no one had answered him like that. "I... I need advice, commander."

Instead of laughing mockingly (like Hireh would), Zenn simply nodded. "Explain, my lord, the current situation. I may be dead, but the Saffrian code still lives within me."

He indicated for the seer to leave. "I am afraid, Zenn," he said when he was sure no ears were prying. "I don't know what's right anymore, and I believe I might be leading my people astray. Tell me, what must I do to combat the darkness?"

Zenn smiled. "My lord, your greatest weapon lies within not you, but the Cartel. You cannot vanquish the darkness alone. Let Saffriana rise from her solitude! Show off her glory and might! Give more right to the people, and they will follow you till the last drop of blood hits the floor. Do not see the ever-growing signs of death as a weakness. See it as a way to show the might of the Saffriana Cartel!"

Jahaal was speechless for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice containing a hint of his former self. "Thank you, my friend."

The commander bowed once more and sunk back into the ground.

[Lakota]

Three days later

Hireh watched as thousands of peasants were escorted into the Sacred Palace of the Emperors. Many of them were excited; it was the first time in history that commoners were allowed into the sanctuary of the emperor, but most were afraid of Jahaal's wrath. HIreh, too, was surprised. What was that scoundrel Jahaal doing now?

Once every member of the Saffriana Cartel had been let inside, the horns sounded, and Jahaal emerged from his household, clothed in his traditional blue robe. Following the Saffrian Code, everyone bowed down, else be humiliated in the emperor's sight.

Jahaal looked at them. "Rise, those of the Saffriana Cartel." All the citizens rose, their eyes still looking at their feet in respect. Only Hireh continued to look at Jahaal, his expression one of confusion.

"I have realized that my rules are still not clear enough. Too many of you have disobeyed me, and therefore the Saffrian Code must be changed." He looked at Hireh directly in the eyes, his expression strict and unchanging.

"Yesterday, Law Two of the Saffrian Code said, 'Those who participate in a loss of territory will be punished.' Today, I will add to that law. Those who are injured or die for the sake of the Cartel will be given a high position of honor, only second to scholars."

The people gasped, and Hireh's expression grew even more confused.

"Yesterday, Law Four of the Saffrian Code said, 'Contact with any foreigners is punishable by death.' Today, that law is repealed. You will be allowed to help and talk to foreigners. They will be treated in the same way we treat eachother."

The people started to talk among themselves. When Jahaal was asked if he wanted them to be executed, he simply smiled and shook his head.

"Yesterday, Law Five of the Saffrian Code said, 'Exploration of the outside world is strictly forbidden.' Today, that law is repealed. Go out and explore the world! Exchange greetings with those you do not know! Learn of their cultures!"

Some of the commoners started to cheer. The talking grew louder and louder, and Lord Jahaal struggled to speak above them.

"Yesterday, Law Seven of the Saffrian Code said, 'Honor your emperor above all others.' Today, I will add to that law. Even more important than the emperor are your friends and family. If you must rebuke me to protect your loved ones, do so!"

Hireh smiled and continued to listen to Jahaal's speech. No longer was the emperor afraid of the Darkness. He had regained his old self again. "Bravo, my friend," he said to himself. "Mizuka and all those before him would be proud."

[Lakota]

Two weeks later

The sun had risen once again, intent on letting its splenderous glory shine. Everyone was working vigorously. Although the Autumn Festival had already passed, clean-up was often considered harder than set-up. However, no one was upset or unhappy. In only three months, they would be holding the Winter Festival, perhaps the greatest festival of them all.

Jahaal breathed in the fresh fall air, a combination of fallen leaves and gentle rain. Hireh was by his side, sword in hand. "I see that you have given up your tyrannical rule. Why," asked the blademaster?

"Let's just say I was heavily encouraged by another friend of mine." Jahaal smiled. "Besides, the people are much happier now. In fact, we've had more people recruit for the army this month than any other month in this decade! Of course, it's still rather small compared to the other nations-"

"-But a well-fed army is better than three armies of starving men," interrupted Hireh. "Don't think about the other nations right now. As long as you continue trade with them, they wouldn't dare attack us. Speaking of which, how goes the new laws on foreigners?"

"Rather well, actually. Many newcomers have taken a liking to what we have to offer, and are willing to trade diamonds for something as common as a riding raven, or a water buffalo. Can you believe it? Diamonds! If we can keep this up, we'll be rich in only days!"

HIreh unsheathed his sword and slung it over his shoulder. "Well, we do have some rather interesting species on this island. Hopefully you have plans about expansion...?"

"Not yet, but tommorow I'm sending a force to retake Estell. My inventors have developed a type of fire than is almost impossible to put out. We'll retake Saffriana in no time." Jahaal stopped for a second. "That reminds me. I was wondering if you'd like to lead the expedition east? You're the best warrior we have, and we'll need all the guidance we can get. What do you say?"

The blademaster stared at him and shrugged. "I'll consider it. My blade's been getting rusty over the past few years. A little polishing should do it some good."

As Jahaal walked with his friend, many workers raised their heads and bowed before him. He waved back at them, knowing that, finally, he was doing what was right for his people.