138. Along the shore the cloud waves break

We walked into the massive hall to take our places. This time around, it was our side that walked around with annoying smirks, and the nobles looked confused. Even those not in the know could see the change of atmosphere as we arrived—tired and still slightly beaten up, but happy nonetheless. From their perspective, I imagine everything was going well until they arrived just now and saw some sour expressions on people from their side.

As everyone sat down, the crosier hit the floor, and a loud bell announced the beginning of the meeting.

“Would anyone like to make amendments to their proposals?” asked the Pope, to which both sides stayed silent.

After a few more questions and an invitation to debate, the meeting moved into voting once again. And this time it was a humiliating defeat for the other side. Once the Linser family of the cursed girl got wind that the noble faction wouldn’t have control over the whole new Shadow Gallery, they voted for our proposition.

It wasn’t much of a change, but we gained an ally who betrayed the Riswalts. The Brazilian church also withheld its vote once again. The most significant change, of course, was the elves and the Aquientie, who finally voted for us. Their factions would probably still reorganize, since that betrayal was widely seen as such, but that would also depend on our response.

But the best part—at least the one I enjoyed the most—was the Riswalt vote. Watching the man get up and, with the most sour expression imaginable, announce that he sees the logic in our side’s proposal and can’t, in good heart, make a vote was one of the best shows I had seen. I almost wished I had something to record it, but then again, with an Intelligence attribute as high as mine, my memory was excellent: the light twitch of the eye, the tensed muscles, and the shaky voice were all etched into my mind.

Once the voting was done, the victory was apparent. The church and, most of all, their noble counterparts were stunned. Even the Pope gave the human-world Pope a panicked look, but there was nothing they could have done.

“Now the real show begins,” Q’Shar said with a smile.

I didn’t understand much of that, considering political discussions were as exciting as watching the grass grow—unless it was the screaming-insults kind—but judging by the state of the other side, that wouldn’t happen. So, shrugging, I sat down in my chair and listened with half-interest.

What followed was a discussion of the amendments to be written into the law—basically tightening the details once the basic draft was passed. To my surprise, Q’Shar actually gave quite a few concessions to both the noble and the Church sides when discussing the details.

The first to be discussed and tightened was the sharing of knowledge with the mortal world. The knowledge was categorised into basic, advanced, expert, and two additional categories of forbidden and crucial for the mundane world. The first three were easy to understand, and, for the most part, the price to pay for them was established—the knowledge given in exchange for the contribution someone made as an exorcist.

The forbidden knowledge was our edge over the mundane world. So, counter-cursing, mind and soul magic fell into that category, with mind magic having the highest priority, in case some leaders needed a slight mental adjustment or their thoughts read. Curses and soul magic were in the same category. They were very hard to deal with without the proper know-how. Punishments for letting that knowledge leak were also set in place.

Of course, if one took a mage into their family, they could share their family techniques, but if they were leaked, the family would take responsibility. It was impossible to completely prevent knowledge from leaking—with demons, gods, and artifacts granting it without our control—but dealing with that was the point of the exorcists’ guild.

Once, there was a vast network trusted by the public. Anyone wanting to learn about what was happening or what to do with any magic they learned would have to go to us. Any attempts at doing the same by the governments were to be shot down and sabotaged, considering that they wouldn’t be able to tell a suicidal or flawed technique from a proper one for some time.

A few techniques—leaving hidden injuries in the caster—leaked; a few mistakes that would kill anyone trusting the government organisation should shut down any attempts.

And finally, the crucial knowledge was made illegal to distribute without being sealed under soul contracts and chirographs, allowing control over who’s in the know.

The goal was to have an established organisation controlling mages and the flow of information before any government knew what was going on. Once everything magical in the mundane world was tagged to us, with strong talent scouting, we should be able to grasp the power.

Next on the agenda was the organisation of it all. And to my surprise, Q’Shar gave concessions. Churches still got their share of the pie, having their vast organisational and administrative networks tied to the guild. Of course, the cats did the same, effectively tying themselves to the given branches once they were established.

During the discussion of interactions with the mortal world, nobles were also granted concessions, allowing them to represent many branches alongside cats, since they were most attuned to politics and business.

When asked about the concessions during a break, Q’Shar told me they were necessary, especially since, in the end, we needed to present a united front to the mortal world. Even if we pushed through discriminatory laws, they would be challenged or ignored. Like with Prohibition, all it did was grow the mafia. The trick was not to mindlessly beat down the other side if we couldn't get rid of them, but to be the one to give them their rights.

Churches had too much presence in the mortal world not to get involved, and nobles were too proud to step down from the political game. They would do that anyway, but now, since the nobles didn’t have a leader, most of the voting was led by Q’Shar and the Third Chamber, so it looked like it was us taking care of their interests.

Finally, Q’Shar secured the position of leader of the Brazilian exorcist branch for the priest and cat who withheld their votes, receiving some secret nods in return.

All the discussions were preliminary, and the next part would be where lawmakers would step in and turn all that was discussed into proper laws for further refinement. Still, the scaffolding was there, and it was all to the cat’s plan—who now walked around with his tail so high it almost scraped the ceiling.

And with the vote over, the real sabbath for me also ended. What came now were smaller votes and adjustments. Boring stuff that needed to be sat through.

Finally, during another longer break, this time already later in the talks, we were approached by the Aquientie and the elven delegations, asking for a talk.

I looked at the cat. After long hours spent with the Eldritch song trying to lull me to sleep, I was leaving all decisions to the cat. I just wanted to go to sleep at this point.

After a quick consideration, the cat nodded, agreeing to the meeting.

We went to a specially prepared room to the side, and all sat down. I had to say, I was also curious about the solution to the situation. On one side, I was aware of the problem the Aquientie were put in alongside the elves. But on the other side, it was true they betrayed us.

From what I understood of the politics, the problem was the vote they had pledged at the beginning. Pledging a vote technically didn’t have any formal power before it was officially cast, but in the mages’ culture, not upholding the pledge was looked down on, to say the least. Withholding a vote like that was one thing, but casting it for the exact opposite proposition was considered a massive taboo.

We were in a strange spot there: we needed to show strength and punish them for the betrayal, but at the same time, I wasn’t that angry. The turnaround let us grab Riswalt by the balls, which was fun to watch, and I would pay a pretty penny for a good show like that.

“We would like to start this meeting by apologising for the betrayal and inability to uphold the pledge given,” the head of Aquientie started.

What followed were short speeches from both representatives, apologising and invoking their ancestors’ ties to ours, and the long history of our families, clans, and species together. Overall, it was a template speech I didn’t care much for—a formality to be done and over with. Once both apologies had been heard, the real talk began.

“I speak here for my backer,” Q’Shar started, seeing as I wasn’t going to get in on this. “You understand that a price for betrayal must be paid.”

“We—we only ask you take our situation into consideration.”

“A situation your own weakness put you in,” Q’Shar said, his voice firm but lacking any spite. “You understand the way of the Third Chamber. You got outplayed by your enemy. You must suffer the consequences. You accepted our helping hand, and that also must be paid for.”

I looked to the side and saw the servants listening intently. I also noticed that some outside people were present. Most likely the cat’s spies, put in place to tell the rest how this was handled.

“We understand.” This time, it was the elves' representative who spoke. “To drink the liquor with the allies of Arachne and pour her venom only in the cups of her enemies is the way. We were prepared to give you artefacts, our knowledge. But…” The woman hesitated. “We believe we have something to satisfy you and sate your anger,” she finished in a ceremonial tone.

I got curious about the knowledge they talked about, almost telling them that whatever grimoire I didn’t have in my collection would be good, but then stopped with half-open mouth. The Aquientie man pulled out a wooden box with a seal etched into the lid. But even though the seal was powerful, most likely made by a powerhouse of old, the particular, squirming energy was still leaking its aura. Although I’m pretty sure I was the only one who felt it.

“My ancestor fought in the War of Tears,” the Aquientie started, placing the box on the table between us. “We were a noble house, but our magic was closer to the one used by dark wizards, so we were always on the line between the two factions. When your grandfather cracked the sky over the Isle of Atlas, my ancestors were closer to the nobles and were late to pull out. Even though they survived, they were among those who spent the rest of their lives experiencing visions and other… symptoms.”

I nodded slowly.

“One of my ancestors, in particular, said he was lost in a strange land where he met the love of his life and two falconers. He spoke… well, gibberish. And since then, his obsessions grew. It consumed him until he finally went to your family seeking something—some text he needed to read. He came back after a few years, tattered and on the verge of insanity, unable to tell us what happened. From the bits and pieces we heard, he tried breaking into your family’s vault, and strangely, he did… in a sense. I’m not sure how or why, or if he was let in, but he came back carrying a piece of a torn page.”

Now I was fully curious about what was in this box.

“Our vault has a powerful arcane lock using mana each time it is opened, so we didn’t touch it for quite some time. Only now did we go in and go through everything locked there, and find this box and a journal that mentioned the story. We wanted to use this to forge the saint-protection pact, but the other elves blocked it.” He then pointed at the box and inserted a runic key, twisting it in the lock. The mechanism clicked, and the box popped open. Once it did, he turned it in my direction, his movements hesitant.

“We don’t know if that’s enough, but we hope that—”

“Yeah, we’re good,” I interrupted before the cat could negotiate anything.

Q’Shar sent me an annoyed look. “Are you sure?” He spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “That is just a small piece of paper. What if—”

I raised my brows and looked back at the torn page, then read the small excerpt still fully visible.

“Strange is the night where black stars rise,

And strange moons circle through the skies.

But stranger still is—”

“Stop!” Q’Shar shouted.

I could see everyone was really uncomfortable, their frowns aimed at me.

This wasn’t in the Eldritch tongue. All the words were in English. Although, weirdly enough, I had to use both tongues to speak them. There was no magic. No energy flowed, but everyone was clearly on edge.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s enough,” I said with a wide smile, closing the box.

It was an excerpt from a lost play—one of my family's lost artefacts, alongside the Mask. I was shaking with excitement. Getting even a piece of it could lead to the rest, especially since it had a strange way of pulling the strings of fate.

The rest of the meeting finished quickly as I put the box in my pouch, already happy about the find.

We still had a meeting with the Egyptian delegation about the mansion plans, but that was practically it for the sabbath. The next few days would be just boring legal proceedings and adjusting details of the law. 

Everything was going well. We got the Riswalts on the back foot, passed our proposal, and now I've got a pie from the sky in the form of my family’s legacy, or at least its part. Now I could just relax for the last part and sleep through the legal talk, or make plans for what to do once back. 

The mansion was my next step, and I needed to finish my plans for that.

I was so deep in thought, planning what to do after the sabbath officially ended, that it took me a while to register a massive explosion that shook the entire underground.