“Roriethiel,” Drekkoril called out, stalking into the library. Rorie set down the last scroll he intended to bother with and offered his bemollo a smile.
“Good afternoon to you, Drekkoril.”
His expression confused, Drekkoril took a seat across from the couch that had long been Rorie and Renny’s retreat in the library. “Good afternoon. Would you care to explain what you are doing?”
“I have discovered that we are at the end of our journey to seek knowledge. I have no notion of how we are going to pass the time now in this dream. I hope soon it will give me my answers so we can return to life. There is so much to fix on our realm, and you must be most anxious to begin.”
“How did you go from wishing to be my partner to devoting yourself fully to your v’airsell nioll and this library? We are here for a purpose, Roriethiel. We must learn everything we can, but we also need to pay attention to the world around us. There will not be a second chance to fix all that ails our people. The task is growing increasingly dangerous with each additional issue we uncover.”
“It was most improper of me to force myself into the government. My position as Protector is exactly what the name entails. I must offer you assistance to protect your role as leader, but it is not my job to make laws or to squeeze my opinion into every matter.”
“I am glad you will honor the traditions of bygone eras, but I cannot do this alone. There is too much to repair. I need your help, and we must be united. That is the first thing the Fae and the sioskallos must understand. They must realize that we will not compete as they did in the Vol’Gon era.”
“I am here for you, Drekkoril,” Rorie said, pleased that he’d somehow made a friend of his bemollo. “I do feel you should be the only one to speak to the sioskallos. Their power must be reduced. Together they are too strong a force to be combated, and I worry that they will try to pressure you as a group.”
“That is what I believed until the infighting started. The unrest of the Fae has grown, and the splits among our people are growing vaster. Some sioskallos are refusing to speak to me, and I ventured into Sindrell this morning to find that they are inciting violence. There were fires set, goods stolen, and I have had to send yet more of our people to the Valiant Defender, who continues to ignore me.”
“How can there be so many things wrong and we continue to lack any memory?” Rorie demanded, frustrated with the idea that his mind had blocked him from so much. “How can we both be missing the same large swath of time?”
“I cannot understand it either. I grow weary of this dream, and yet I am frightened of returning. We will have all these issues at once to correct, and it pains my head to think on where to start and how to be effective. There are no setieons that I can count on, the sioskallos are running amok, and I fear no one will listen to my decrees.”
“Will there be any money left in the treasury?”
“If any, it will be very small,” Drekkoril confessed.
“I should not have fought so hard against you. My role was to support you and instead, I made things worse.”
“While it may have helped a little to have the partnership I believe we have now created, we would have still faced the enormous issues created in the Vol’Gon era.”
Tears threatened, and Rorie let them fall. When Renny tugged him close, he leaned his head on his shoulder. “My parents were awful.”
“If you believe their bemollos were any better, you are fooling yourself,” Drekkoril said.
“Whatever was Bétea thinking?”
“There has only ever been one family in power; she followed her tradition of selecting people of the same blood.”
“Drekkoril, is our realm fixable?”
“I have no notion any longer, for I do not know what shape we will find it in at the end of our dream. Even if it were to conclude today, I am not filled with confidence that there is a solution to the fact that we are sliding ever closer to darkness. Nowhere in this library does it speak of such a thing being possible, and yet here we are. What population will we have left that is not being beckoned by the grayness growing in our souls?”
“Can the realm of the Dark Fae be so much better than ours?”
“We have no idea what life is like on their realm, so I cannot answer such a question. There has always been little contact between the Noble Protectors and the Valiant Defenders. They protect their land, as do we. Hibozeth has not ruled for long, and you may not wish to hear it, but he met secretly with your parents, according to the sioskallos.”
“A part of me is surprised they did not dare to cross the small bridge that connects our lands. They gave no respect to the rules of the Fae or to Bétea herself. They may have believed they could walk into the Dark Fae realm without being changed the same way they fought to tame Faedrekan.”
Drekkoril’s expression was grim. “All they needed to do was be kind to them. It was how I tamed Zurenzi.”
“Your task might have been made easier given that I had Zurenzi’s v’airsell nioll,” Rorie mused. “Perhaps he was aware, or they had recently found one another. I am told you went to the same cave area where I tamed Orlami.”
“My fright would have been a great deal less if I had known Zurenzi was eager to be with Orlami. He did not fight me or hesitate, so I fear you could be correct.”
“How do you wish for my help?”
“Let us strategize how best to begin our campaign to fix the Fae,” Drekkoril answered. “I would like the help of the D’Vaires in building options, if I may beg for your help.”
“We would be honored to assist however we can,” Chander assured him. Rorie stood and Renny took his hand. They journeyed to one of the grand dining rooms that they were going to convert to a meeting space. Personally, he was overwhelmed by the issues and could only imagine that Drekkoril’s mind was just as scattered by the enormous pressure on his shoulders. Rorie offered Drekkoril a grin, they fell into step alongside one another, and he promised himself that he would do everything in his power to protect his bemollo.
