Sebastien
Month 9, Day 28, Tuesday 8:30 a.m
Oliver pressed his lips together, then pursed them, and then winced as he bit his own cheek, but still couldn’t stop his face from splitting into a huge, slightly crazed-looking smile. He covered his mouth, laughed a few times to himself, and then segued into a fake cough. He turned back to her with a serious expression and clasped his hands atop the table between them. “I believe you’ve made a wise decision, and I would be pleased to help.”
Sebastien stared at him incredulously.
He scratched the side of his cheek with his forefinger. “It’s just that I’ve always thought about how much use you could be getting out of the Raven Queen’s identity. I’ve been building up the Verdant Stags’ reputation for years now with a massive amount of effort and resources, and even so you have more name recognition. I’m jealous. I’m also excited about how useful this could be for my own efforts.”
Sebastien felt that this last part was the most relevant in Oliver’s mind, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for her. As long as she stayed alert and he didn’t try to take advantage of her, his help would be invaluable.
“I’m glad you’ve come to recognize that influence is a form of power. When your actions and resources benefit someone, it makes them reluctant to get rid of you or allow others to do so, but influence is useful in other ways, too. It allows you to subtly shape people’s perspectives and beliefs, gain information as if you were an insider, and create widespread shifts in the momentum of society. Sheer power might be able to change the world by force, but influence allows you to change other people, and then let them change the world for you. And the wonderful thing is, they’ll be working in their own best interest the whole time. Even the most powerful thaumaturge will struggle to stand against a nation.”
“It’s not that I didn’t understand. I just didn’t want to deal with the hassle. Magic is so much easier, cleaner, and more reliable.”
Oliver tapped one finger on the hardwood of his desk. “People often find things they’re not good at unpleasant. It’s true that influence isn’t perfectly reliable, but let’s not pretend that magic is.”
He stared at her expectantly, and after a moment, Sebastien nodded. “Touché.”
“If you want influence…might I suggest investing in charity? Of course, you’ve already been doing this, again somehow without even trying. If you’re willing to invest a bit more into the Undreaming Order, they are a perfect, ready-made vehicle for that purpose.” He paused, eyes widening. “Ah. Also, Deidre Johnson is rather anxious to speak to you. I forgot to mention that. She was worried about your extended lack of contact and reached out to me.”
Sebastien leaned forward. “Is there something wrong? Some issue she needed help with?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
Sebastien sat back and pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes. “Okay. But I don’t want to place all my eggs in one basket. That counts for the Undreaming Order, but also my identities. If the Raven Queen gains power, Sebastien Siverling should, too. It seems like stability that makes one hard to topple with any single blow is another form of power.”
“I find it useful,” Oliver agreed. “Though my identities have less distinction than yours, and will likely one day be revealed.” He pressed his palms together, aligning his fingers as if praying, then stared over them with excitement. “Let us plot your ascension!”
Over the next hour, Oliver came up with a plethora of ideas with a deep enthusiasm that surprised Sebastien. He had many ideas that she had expected, but he also offered to feature her in the People’s Voice, suggested she do a wide-scale and flamboyant shadow show, and was even willing to help her spread rumors that she was behind the upcoming fall of the Architects of Khronos—because apparently he was plotting their downfall. “The plotting is the most fun part!” he explained. “And your unique situation offers an enticing range of opportunities.”
She absorbed his ideas, considering some and discarding others immediately, slowly piecing together a plan in her mind. His input was useful and creative, but he didn’t know everything she did, and the boldest of her plans for the future was her own.
“If you really do manage to expand the Undreaming Order, together we’ll have almost all the commoners under our influence. The Verdant Stag, for those who are swayed by personal interest and increased standards of living, and the Undreaming Order, for those who are more open to the lure of faith, community, and some higher purpose.” He stood up and moved to face the window, gazing out over the street with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked like some kind of evil mastermind out of a play. “Your reputation will also act as a wonderful deterrent to those who might want to challenge my authority after the revolution,” he said with satisfaction. “You can have a spot on the council and some fancy title.”
Sebastien cleared her throat to stop him before he could get too excited. “I will not be taking any official roles in your or anyone else’s regime. That is a step too far into teeth-grating responsibility.” Even the idea was repulsive, and she shivered in instinctive rejection.
“Well, that’s fine. You can remain a power in the shadows while I take over publicly. In fact, it’s probably better. We should each take roles that suit us.” He rubbed his chin. “Hmm. Maybe we should even create some false conflict between our two factions. An obvious place for people dissatisfied with the system to defect to might keep them from creating some more effective subversive group.”
She lifted one eyebrow wryly. “Like the Verdant Stags?”
“There will never be a need for another gang like the Verdant Stag if I do my job properly,” he replied simply.
Sebastien crossed her legs, one ankle over the opposite knee—an overly confident posture she had picked up from her Crown Family friends. “Speaking of plans to take over the country, doesn’t yours involve controlling a source of celerium? Don’t you think it’s time I decrypt the journal you had stolen. You know, the crime you pinned on me?”
Oliver winced at the last addition. “Thank you for that reminder,” he said, his tone devoid of any actual gratitude. Under his breath, he muttered, “Though in my defense, you did actually steal one, too.”
Sebastien chose to magnanimously ignore this dissidence.
Louder, he said, “However, you are correct. Tensions are growing, not just in Gilbratha, but around the known lands. This is good timing to take advantage of people’s growing desperation. We will simply need to agree to some privacy vows, and then I can take you to the journal.”
Sebastien raised one eyebrow. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear at all. “Having lost and arcane knowledge is a form of power, but only if you can actually use it. That includes the ability to share it.”
Oliver tilted his head slowly to the side, like a curious bird. “You want to tell people how to create celerium?”
She stared back expressionlessly. “Just a few. It’s very valuable knowledge, after all.”
“You cannot share that information. But I can agree to you using it to create celerium yourself, and if you would like to purchase it from the Verdant Stag, we can do small-scale sales at cost, and large-scale sales at only twenty percent over.”
Siobhan scoffed. “Are you trying to insult me? You can’t possibly think I’m stupid. Would you take that deal if someone offered it to you?”
Oliver rubbed his cheek roughly. “There’s likely other valuable information within the journal. You’re free to share that with a select number of people. Just not celerium.”
“Even the entire library of information in Myrddin’s four other journals isn’t as valuable as this one bit of information.” She crossed her arms. “Unless you disagree with that statement, in which case I’d be happy to trade dissemination rights for all the other information I have access to in exchange for free usage rights to the celerium creation method.”
A long moment passed while Oliver frowned and nodded as if deeply considering her argument. Finally, he said, “Mmm, no.”
Sebastien rolled her eyes.
“I’m not being unreasonable. You cannot share the method because that kind of leak is like a hole in a dam. It might start at the size of your finger, a little spout of water that seems perfectly controllable, but it will grow wildly and insupressably until the dam collapses entirely and you are washed away.”
“People will have to know about it either way, Oliver. It’s not as if you can cast the necessary spell yourself, and with what you’re planning, you won’t be able to rely on me either. Someone beyond the two of us will need to be brought in. What if I use the same methods for secrecy that you plan to use for your people? I can agree to various restrictions. I remember you hired that man who went around sealing the tongues of those Morrow prisoners…”
Oliver moved to the liquor table, but instead of pouring himself a tumbler, instead took a handful of ice, a small bowl of fruit, and dumped them all in some strange artifact that let out a horrible grinding sound and blended it all into a brightly colored slush, all while Sebastien waited for a response. This was some kind of power play, she was sure, but she had the patience to wait him out. He portioned out the fruit slush into two glasses, then returned and handed her one.
She took a sip and found it surprisingly delicious, like something one might find at a food stall during a large fair or the University’s exhibitions.
“Exotic fruits grown at one of the Verdant Stags’ agricultural warehouses,” he explained. “It’s called a mango. They’ve been selling well among the wealthier citizens. They’ve also already killed two people who were, sadly, allergic,” he added deadpan.
Sebastien looked dubiously at the drink, then ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth. She still felt fine. “I don’t suppose the two people who died were causing trouble for you or the Verdant Stag?”
Oliver shrugged. “Perhaps.”
Sebastien gave him a hard, assessing stare.
Oliver blinked. “Oh, that wasn’t some kind of subtle threat!” he said, sounding genuinely abashed. He lifted his hands and waved them rapidly, as if to shoo away the thought. “I was just taking a moment to think, and making conversation in the meantime.” He lowered his hands and took a sip of the orange drink. “Though I suppose it is relevant to our negotiations, since I have quite a few ways to deal with complications when they crop up. If someone on your side causes problems, can you confidently say you could handle that, or would the Verdant Stag end up needing to step in?”
Sebastien took a large swallow of the icy drink, holding back a wince at the sudden headache caused by the cold. “If all precautions fail and I need to deal with someone, even if all of my connections and personal ability aren’t enough to handle it… Oliver, did you forget the contract I just made? If someone is foolish enough to betray me, it will be the last thing they ever do.” She smiled. “So yes, I think you could say I’m confident.”
He shifted uncomfortably, but before he could retort, she added, “Also, I would like to remind you that you owe me a favor. Specifically, a large favor. We agreed on that after Titus Westbay had strange suspicions about the last name you chose for me. Do you remember that?”
Oliver winced. “I remember.”
“I think this is an appropriate opportunity to call in that favor.”
“You can share Myrddin’s celerium creation method with three people, each sworn to secrecy and subject to my approval.”
This was progress, but Sebastien showed no satisfaction. “Don’t you think it’s likely that the spell requires a large capacity? If it needs anything close to Myrddin’s level of power, three people might not even be enough to joint-cast it.” She tapped her fingers and thumb together and muttered under her breath as if doing mental calculations. “How about an allowance of one hundred people who know the gist of the method, and an additional thirty who receive the detailed casting instructions?”
Oliver stared at her as if she’d just announced herself to be a time-traveler from before the Cataclysm. “Did you pronounce your numbers correctly? Because what I just heard was outrageous.”
She shook her head seriously. “No, you’re thinking about this wrong. If I don’t get murdered, I’m likely to live a very long life. I could reach one hundred fifty quite reasonably, and if I can figure out how Myrddin did it, perhaps something closer to three hundred. That is a very long time, and so many things can happen along the way. What if I accept an apprentice when I’m two hundred years old, and I can’t even pass down this knowledge to them because I’ve already used up my quota?” Before he could respond to what she felt was a very compelling argument, she continued. “However, I am willing to compromise. If you want to restrict the number of people I can tell, then we could put an expiration date on our agreement. How about thirty people who know the general process, fifteen who can have the casting instructions, and then all restrictions are lifted in three years? If we start working on the journal now, three years should be enough time for you to make significant inroads into the celerium market, right?”
Oliver chuckled. “Sebastien, would you take this deal?” he asked, mimicking her earlier question.
Instead of answering, she leaned back leisurely and inspected her long, pale fingers. “I might be the only one in the world who can decrypt that journal for you. If you want the information within…you have to bend a little to make it worth it for me. Because when it comes down to it, I have access to four other entries, and I have plenty of high-capacity celerium. I can wait.”
“What makes you think I cannot?” Oliver asked.
“Because whether or not you’re prepared, you can’t stop this world from falling apart, and you need to be in a position to take advantage of that opportunity when it comes. Without a celerium source, there’s no way you’ll be able to amass the necessary power before it’s too late. At worst, you won’t even be able to hold on to what you currently have. At best, the Verdant Stags will be able to take a larger bite out of Gilbratha. But that’s not enough for you, is it?”
Oliver let out a long, slow breath. “Fifteen people who may know the general process, three people you can give the spell instructions to on your own personal discretion—pending safety measures—and an unlimited number who you can tell after applying for and receiving my approval. That’s as long as you agree that you won’t give this information to anyone who is hostile to me or the Verdant Stag, or who is likely to become a significant obstacle to my plans for revolution. These terms will apply for twenty years, after which point you can do as you see fit.”
“Ten years, with immediate dissolution of the terms if you die.”
Oliver squinted at her. “Suddenly, I fear assassination.”
Sebastien gave him an exasperated look. “Also, I need a clause that states I can give up the information under torture.”
She expected an argument, or at least some quibbling about the specifics of that last term, but Oliver agreed after only a small amount of hesitation. A small, surprised warmth bloomed for a moment within her, but was soon pushed aside. “What is your plan for Myrddin’s method? I assume you’ll give it to a number of trustworthy thaumaturges within the Verdant Stag and start selling celerium? But if you want enough power for a revolution, it’s going to take more than just small-scale sales, right? In fact, half-measures might lead to more danger. You wouldn’t have the maximum leverage but would still cue those who are desperate for another source to come after you.”
“Of course I’ve considered all of that.”
“Have you ever considered simply releasing the method to the public? You’ve talked about wanting to eradicate poverty and let everyone have schooling. Free access to celerium, or at least significantly cheaper celerium, would go a long way towards achieving that goal,” Sebastien said.
“That’s only true if you assume Myrddin’s methods is something that normal thaumaturges can use, which you just pointed out might not be the case. If it requires the skill of a Grandmaster or Archmage, do you think the common people would ever see any of that celerium? If it’s possible to mass-produce, I will naturally set up systems to make that possible. And unlike other factions, I will ensure that a portion of the celerium, or proceeds from the celerium, directly benefit everyone.”
“Neither of us knows what Myrddin’s method entails, but if it turns out that any random Master can use the spell as long as they understand it, would you change your mind?” Sebastien asked, watching him carefully.
Oliver smiled. “If any random Master can cast the spell, then the Verdant Stag could probably supply all of Lenore, once we scaled up.”
That was answer enough for her. She sighed. “Have you ever thought, what if everyone was wrong, and the method to decrypt celerium isn’t even in that journal?” Both of them froze, then slowly met each other’s gaze.
Oliver laughed uneasily. “Surely not?”
“That would be some kind of ironic hell.”
“I’ll take you to look through it tonight,” he said, some urgency slipping through into his tone. “Let’s finalize the vows, and Katerin can help us cast them first.”
They spent over an hour working and reworking the wording. Sebastien considered waiting until Legion recovered and going into the spirit realm to complete the vows, but decided against it. Partially because this wasn’t the kind of agreement that held her life in the balance, and partially because she didn’t know what a visit to the spirit realm might do to Oliver. She didn’t want to experiment with his safety on the line.
When they were finished, she asked about the Architects of Khronos and Kiernan. She’d known that Oliver’s collaboration with them could never be a long-term thing, but she hadn’t expected it to end already. But when he explained, she understood. “You had better be cautious with Tanya,” she warned.
“I’m cautious with all my informants,” he assured her. “Are you interested in faking a search for Kiernan in exchange for whatever boon they can offer?”
“It’s not worth it, and I have too many other things to focus my limited time on.”
He nodded. “Ideally, I’ll be able to snatch up quite a bit of their resources as they’re collapsing, so there’s no need to involve you in the act. Besides, it might be prudent to remain cautious. I’m a little wary to learn that Archmage Zard is part of their ranks. Part of my investigation into the Architects is to ensure he’s not holding any hidden cards.”
“Like what?”
Oliver shrugged. “Like being a double agent for the Crowns, or having a giant spell array carved into the white cliffs that will collapse Gilbratha the moment he chooses.”
Sebastien opened her mouth slowly. “Ah. Yes, that does seem like a problem.” She’d never spent much time considering how she would actually defeat an Archmage. ‘Perhaps I should start considering it now,’ she thought.
Aloud, she asked, “Do you have a plan for how to bring the Architects down?”
Oliver capped his fountain pen and tucked it into his vest’s chest pocket. “I want to avoid direct confrontation with them, because that would inevitably amount in significant losses on my side. They have many powerful thaumaturges, as well as access to mercenaries. But they’re involved in a significant amount of crime—not just in collaboration with the Verdant Stags—and they’re overconfident.”
“If they fall, it seems likely to escalate the tension in this city.” Sebastien hesitated. “Have you seen those domino tricks, where the first knocks over a complex cascade of other dominoes and causes seemingly unrelated effects? Do you know what will happen if you disrupt the current balance of power?”
“Better at my hand than a surprise. It’s true that the failings of a drowning man may drag down those around him, but I will prepare for that. Ideally, I’ll be able to use their downfall as a bargaining chip.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend. And there are a few people I’d like to have on my side. Titus Westbay, for one. Maybe, just maybe, this will help me achieve that.” He stared into the distance wistfully, his smile growing large and creepy again.
Update: Well, as I was concerned might happen in my original author note below, I can't make this week's (Feb 26) chapter. I seem to be having a bit of a flare-up leading to fatigue and excessive stupidity stemming from my inability to rub two brain cells together. That is my frustration talking. In more charitable terms, the severe brain fog makes it impossible for me to retain and juggle the necessary information to write a coherent chapter that won't be potentially riddled with plot holes. I cannot think.
Unfortunately, these are not the kinds of books I can write without deep thought. Every move requires consideration about all of the characters, the world, and current events as well as my plans for the story's future. In the Alcove, Hannah said this: "An alive and healthy author can finish a series. An unhealthy author who works herself into a collapse, or worse, is unlikely to do so. Truly, my wish for you to look after your health is for purely selfish reasons." It made me laugh, so thanks, Hannah. It's also a salient point, as we have many more books to go to complete this story, and for that to happen I've got to manage my health properly. Rather than raging against my state and trying to force my way through, I'll recover faster if I just stop trying and let myself rest. The chapter that results will be better, too. I anticipate I'll be able to write again after a few more days of recovery, so I hope to be back with an awesome chapter next week. Since I have surgery on Thursday, I'll hope to finish the chapter the day before.
Original Author Note:
Ideally I'll be back next Thursday with the next chapter, but I'm not entirely sure if I'll make it, because I'm tired and need to rest, and I also have a few healthcare and personal life things that could supersede my writing time. I'll still plan to post normally, and will update here if there's going to be a delay.
Also, as an early reminder because I know not everyone reads every author note: I have surgery scheduled for the beginning of March (which could still be unexpectedly pulled forward.) I may not be posting on the 5th—that is the planned date of my surgery, but I might be able to finish the chapter ahead of time—and will definitely not be posting on the 12th and 19th following the surgery.
Latest chapter discussion on the Alcove: https://alcove.azaleaellis.com/t/chapter-286-weekly-discussion-influence/910