Qa-Avnel, the Sacred City
The morning was a brisk one, and Ayallal was enjoying the cool breeze as she gazed down at the courtyard of the villa. The courtyward itself was quite beautiful, thanks to the flowers blooming in a myriad of colours around its edges. She watched the occasional servant hurry back and forth on a variety of errands for the Sacred City's ayel masters. Ayallal, however, was no different from them and the only difference was that it would be a few more minutes before her personal skillset was needed and so she had been given a short break. As she looked back into the villa itself she saw her master, the eldest of the ayels, sitting at a table running his fingers over a scroll, reading the raised bumps on its surface with his long, slender fingers thanks to his lack of eyes. It was a completely normal sight to her, though most in Yossod would die for a chance to get this close to any ayel at least once in her life; it was a far cry from her life on the streets of Mashka.
Then Ayallal heard a faint knock at the door, and she quickly made her way into the room to stand at the side of her ayel master, Mercy. He had already heard the knock and answered, turning to acknowledge her presence for a short moment before turning back to the door and answering in the strange language of the ayels. It was a gurgling and burbling language punctuated by the clicking of teeth, and there were only a handful of humans who could understand it, let alone speak it. Ayallal was one such person, and called out, "Come in."
In walked a person most unimpressive, a simple elderly man in plain brown robes who greeted Mercy formally and using his full name: The-Wicked-And-Unjust-Shall-Receive-No-Mercy-But-By-The-Divine-Grace-Of-God-Almighty-For-I-Shall-Not-Stay-My-Sword-In-The-Time-Of-Their-Judgement. Ayallal relayed the message to Mercy, and then relayed the ayel's greeting in kind. For Mercy the only remaining ayels who was not able to at least understand spoken Yossodite; it was a testament to his age as the tongue was taught to all ayels born in Yossod.
"Greetings, Prophet," Ayallal said for Mercy, "It has been too long since I had the pleasure of a private meeting."
"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine your Holiness," the Prophet said.
Mercy let out a deep noise that Ayallal recognized as a groan before speaking, "There is no need for all of the formalities, Azuumad. This is hardly a meeting of the Council. And please, take a seat."
"And I apologize for interrupting your day, your Holiness," Azuumad said as he slowly sat down across the table from Mercy, eliciting a sigh from the imposing ayel, "But I did not wish to call another meeting of the Council again so soon for only a single matter."
"Oh, you weren't interrupting anything Azuumad. I was reading a book, and the most important thing I had planned was a stroll around the Sacred City," Mercy said with a dismissive wave of his hand, though the effect was somewhat diminished as the Prophet had no idea what he was saying until Ayallal repeated it, "But what is this matter?"
"It is about the King of Mashka, and it has only recently come to my attention," Azuumad responded, and this piqued Ayallal's interest; even though she'd lived most of her life in Qa-Avnel, the city of Mashka had been her home for many years, "It seems he may not be fit to rule. Or rather, that he may not be for much longer."
And when this message was relayed to Mercy, he finally put down the scroll he'd been reading to focus all his attention on the Prophet, "This is a serious accusation, Azuumad, I assume you have proof?"
"Apparently, one need only ask anyone within King Ninim's court."
"Is it that prevalent?"
"Unfortunately so, your Holiness," Azuumad responded gravely, "Apparently it began with the birth of his youngest several months ago. Since then he's become increasingly erratic and suspicious; I worry it will prove to the detriment of Yossod if allowed to go unchecked."
Mercy thought for a moment, no doubt going over the information in his head as Ayallal herself was. She wasn't particularly learned, but she knew Mashka was the biggest port in Yossod, even she could see that having an insane King rule over it wasn't good. After a long minute, Mercy spoke again, "You said it happened with the birth of his youngest, what was the matter with it? Was it a daughter? The Idumians have something against women ruling, do they not?"
"To be frank, I have no idea at all," Azuumad said, "All I have to go on is rumours and hearsay, and what the King claims too of course."
There was a short moment of silence before Azuumad realized Mercy wished for him to go on. "Well the child has never been seen by anyone except the King and Queen. Not even the Princes have seen the infant, though in the case of the eldest that is understandable," Azuumad said, "And King Ninim himself claims the boy is perfectly healthy and it is for his own protection. But rumours among Mashka's nobility say otherwise; many think the child is a malformed cripple, even worse than the second Prince."
"And the King himself?"
"Rarely seen; he spends most of his time with the youngest child and when he is in public he acts erratically. All will seem normal until something minor with set him ranting and raving."
"This is, troubling to say the least," Mercy said, "But has he actually
done anything yet?"
"Not at this time, your Holiness."
"Well the Council cannot just go around removing Kings from their thrones. Well, we can, but it may cause more damage than good in the end."
"You are not saying we are to do nothing, are you?"
"Of course not. I want orders to the Brothers of the Covenant in Mashka to be on alert, and to know that if the King tries anything they have the authority to remove him from his throne. By force if necessary, but only if the need is dire."
"The Brotherhood, your Holiness? Surely we can solve this problem without those... Without the Brotherhood."
Mercy sighed again, "It would be infinitely more difficult, and make us much slower to react. In which time a mad King could cause more harm. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not, your Holiness, I just..."
"Azuumad, this is the end of this discussion. One of the purposes of the Brotherhood is to enforce our rule."
With that the Prophet nodded his head and stood back up, "Well then, I thank you sincerely for taking your time to listen to me. And I ask only that you bring the problem to the attention to the Council next it meets."
"Of course, but are you leaving already?"
"Indeed, I am sure you have your own business to attend to, and I must find out who in the Brotherhood I should inform with the First Brother off playing gladiator."
The Prophet bowed to Mercy and gave a short nod to Ayallal, the first time he'd acknowledged her existence since he's entered the room, before leaving quietly. Mercy waited only a short moment before picking his scroll back up and looking over at Ayallal. "That man is far too formal; I would've asked him to stay for a drink, but I feel as though he'd only stay because I asked."
"At least the Prophet is professional, is he not?" Ayallal said back, "And he does not have the luxury of living among you."
"Fair enough, it is still frustrating. I wish he'd call me 'Mercy' or at least 'Receive-No-Mercy', or anything less formal than my full name or 'your Holiness'." Mercy said, shaking his head, "You wouldn't object to sharing a drink with an old ayel would you?"
"Of course not, your Holiness," Ayallal said with a smirk, "I shall do whatever you ask."
Mercy let out a wet gurgling noise that Ayallal recognized as a laugh before responding, "Oh, stop that and get us those drinks. Get whatever you like; tell the cook I sent you."
"Of course, I'll be back in a few minutes."
------
Zaqir, the Ring of Valour
First Brother Jinoa and another of Yossod's Brotherhood slowly circled one another, shields raised with their blunted practice swords at the ready. Jinoa was confident that he would end up on top, but he didn't let that cause him to underestimate his brother. No matter the opponent it was always best to treat them like the most dangerous man in the world, because in real combat they likely were. Eventually Jinoa charged into a series of strikes, but his brother blocked each with his shield. The pair exchanged blows, with each watching carefully for a break in the others guard. Then Jinoa's brother made a mistake that would've been fatal on the battlefield; he overextended himself and Jinoa was more than happy to take advantage of this. Jinoa's blunted sword jabbed into the man's gut and then across his face and the warrior went sprawling on the ground, with Jinoa's practice blade at his throat.
The pair stared at each other seriously for a long moment, before each broke into a massive grin as Jinoa helped the other warrior up. The man was, after all, Jinoa's brother. Not by anything as flimsy as being birthed from the same womb, but by virtue of the Covenant of Blood the Brotherhood was named after. The warrior made his way over a nearly a half-dozen other warriors, all of whom had had just as much luck against their First Brother. And now, instead of waiting for another challenger, Jinoa decided it'd be best to take a break. As he sat down and dropped the training gear one of the Brotherhood's Initiates came over with a sheepskin of water, which he graciously accepted before looking out over the rest of the sparring yard.
The members of Yossod's Brotherhood were mostly obvious; most of them were baring their chests to the air and the near-identical brands and scars on their arms were obvious for all to see. Not all of them, however, and some were training in full armour; it was something Jinoa would get around to later. Jinoa could see a group of his warriors moving in perfect step with one another and going through a series of group drills, as well as a great many in single spars. He grinned as he watched Hama the Tall win another sparring match, before laughing and helping the poor man up. Jinoa was a skilled warrior, but even he would think twice before picking a fight with Hama; the man was apparently half-promethean but if that was true his mother must have been the largest and hairiest woman in Yossod, since not only was he hairy and apelike but he was larger than any full-blooded promethean Jinoa had ever laid eyes on.
But as his eyes wandered to the other warriors in Zaqir, he began to ruminate on how little he wanted to be here. He had proven himself in real combat against people who actually wanted him dead, he wasn't some unblooded looking for approval and neither did he revel in the violence like Hama. He was First Brother and he had a duty to his brothers, and the Almurzani could be dangerous. He didn't wish to end up dead or maimed unless it was on a battlefield, fighting against the enemies of God. But he had his orders, and they had come directly from the Ayelic Council. But actually fighting in the Almurzani was secondary; his main purpose within Yossod was to get a feel for these 'Ilists' himself. The Ayelic Council wanted a firsthand account of these saurians themselves from somebody whom they could trust, and Jinoa would never disobey a direct order from the Council. And he did have to admit that fighting in the Almurzani would be good practice and if a Brother won it would move things in Zaqir along quite well. Silently, he was also debating whether or not to seek out any Illists himself; he didn't want to haul around a priest to translate and if they were as devout as rumours claimed he had no doubt that they'd seek the Brotherhood out on their own volition. Eventually he decided to just wait and give them time; the Brotherhood's entourage had just arrived in Zaqir after all.
