“Between you and me, El-Kir is right. We were a trade metropolis before all this, you know. A center of learning too. And the provinces, when they were merely under our influence and not our boot, they were practically industrial wonderlands. Now look at us. We’ve gone back in time, it’s like we’re in the old world.”

“What do you know about the old world, anyway, man? Who’s to say this isn’t how things are supposed to be?”

“Well, have you tried listening to your heart?”

“You think I’m stupid? I wasn’t talking about the killings, of course I know that’s all wrong. But I mean… we have prosperity and order, don’t we?”

“Not enough.”

“You shouldn’t get drunk so often, your lips are too loose.”

“Hey, piss off. I’m fine.”

-Speakers unknown. Recording snipped on 238 YT, fifth day of the fifth week of summer.

Attempts to voiceprint the speakers were unsuccessful.

Will use as benchmark against future clips

to construct identity of seditious individuals.

Location unknown, time unknown, some number of days after Marga’s death

With that familiar scratching sound the room came alight with life. The match’s starter was consumed, crackling, and the flame went from match to candle. The door of the lantern in front of him was closed and the woman in the frock dress sat across from him.

He pulled lightly against his leg restraints, just for show. He knew that he could break out of them if he tried hard enough for long enough, but he didn’t care to. Besides, his wounds were still healing. This was quite probably the safest place he could be.

“Stop that,” the woman across from him said. “And don’t forget why you’re here. You live at my discretion.”

“Don’t forget why you’re here,” he said back. “You escaped and sought safety outside the embrace of Aivor. Same as me in the end.”

She rolled her eyes. “You said you had more to tell me.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Sorry I couldn’t give it to you yesterday. Hard to keep talking for too long with a half-collapsed lung.”

“I’ll get you more medicine next time.” She pushed a loaf of bread across the floor to him, and he reached forward to pick it up. The bread was surprisingly delicious, with egg and butter giving it a fluffy, airy texture. “The army.”

“Being readied at Carakhte? Oh yeah, they’re bringing more and more men through the pass all the time. At least that’s how it was when we departed. Every few days, a new regiment comes through. It’s a difficult pass and the folk who live there don’t really appreciate the empire’s presence, even if they tolerate us because they know we could wipe them out if we wanted.” He tore off a chunk of bread and ate, taking the moment to recover his breath. Speaking was still difficult, and he could barely achieve a normal voice. If he tried to shout as he once had, he thought he’d faint. “The Emperor himself intends to join the army, along with his council of high priests, when the rest of the soldiers are ready to march.”

“You still think he’s God?”

“Technically, yes. Practically, no.” He shrugged. “Actually, High Priest Zhiren is probably the most powerful magic-user in the empire – he’ll be there too. Aivor the First is no slouch though.”

She nodded. “And what about this border town, Carakhte?”

“Well, it’s really more of a fort. There’s three main defensive towers, each manned twenty-four hours a day except during the shift change. Each have those at different times so there’s no blind spots for longer than a few minutes at the time.”

“One more question,” the woman said with a nod. “How do you kill the Emperor?”

He laughed and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably by shooting him with guns until he dies? I’ve never seen an Emperor die, but Aivor’s hosts are always mortal.”

The woman nodded slowly. “Indeed they are.”

“You told me once that you were still loyal to him… just not to him. Is that right?”

She nodded. “That’s right. Aivor might be the closest thing there is in this world to a living divinity – and he might hold the key to rebuilding the world as it could have been. But even he can be misled. No one and nothing is infallible. Not anymore.”

He sighed slowly. “You’re in the same situation I am with all this. The Empire, the war, getting away from all of it. Just trying to survive and maybe make things right if you can. Same as me, same as me in the end.”

“No,” she said. “It’s not the same. But I intend not to regret letting you live, and maybe some day you’ll make up for it.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to disappoint you,” he said. “I really do want to change the situation we find ourselves in. If that means working with you, for you… So be it. The Empire claims to stand for our great goal, but in reality it stands in the way.

“But, when we do get there… once the Empire has been pacified… you’re still with us, aren’t you? You still believe the Veil is an abomination, don’t you… Luca Buday?”