True wisdom is borne of epic fail [Hadrian]

[Tarot]

Farke gave a slight smirk. "Oh, you certainly have caused your fair share of trouble around here, but disrespect is pretty much the only thing we cannot claim against you. This," and he wiggled his finger, "was just a reminder that anyone in here might be an enemy. Keep your talons at the ready, as I do mine. Intelligence is not always enough to save your life." The wizard fell silent as Hadrian voiced his doubts, questioning the wisdom in ruling out any hypothesis laid out in front of them. Farke frowned at the thought that Mashaen might be the one responsible for Drainira's freedom. It was possible, yes. Someone probably suspected as much within Sahova. While Farke himself found it incredibly hard to believe, having know the Archwizard for centuries, Hadrian's point of view as an outsider forced him to reconsider. "How about you ask him yourself, Hadrian Helius?" the Nuit suggested all of a sudden while the human searched the room. "The Archwizard, I mean. He is not one to electrocute his visitors on the spot, either. Why do not you ask him the question no-one of us ever dared to ask? If he is, in fact, involved with Drainira's plot? You spoke the truth, after all. His creation is terrorizing our people - and not only them. Frankly, she poses a much greater threat to the continent than here on Sahova. She is out there to conquer the world... and if she's embarked on that quest, it means she believes her chances at that to be good." Maybe the best way to learn about the creature was to ask the creator, after all. Farke was giving Hadrian the opportunity for a unique encounter.

[Hadrian]

This was hardly the outcome Hadrian had expected, and now that Farke challenged him with a face-to-face (unless the Nuit had some other preferred mode of communication) with the world-famous Zarik Mashaen, he wasn't sure he had the gumption to ask him those hard-hitting questions. Just because Farke claimed the Archwizard had a mild manner with guests did not mean that he too might not have talons hidden as the Nuit before him did. In fact, Hadrian expected as much from a creature, no longer a man, who had survived for so long. In the end, he nodded his assent, trying to keep his emotions under tight rein. Nuit seemed to be amused by human emotion, and ruthless in exploiting it. He was at enough of a disadvantage at the moment, surviving on his wits, which Farke claimed were not enough. There was no reason to give him more to play off of. After all, Farke was a tenuous ally at best, and Hadrian was trying to remain realistic about his odds and strategies here. "I had not expected to meet such august personages while visiting Sahova," he admitted, granting respect where respect was due and, thankfully, sincere. Still, he could not assume that he wasn't being played like a chess piece, a mortal instrument. "I only wish it were under happier circumstances." Permitting himself for a moment to hope for more than just survival, he considered the fact that if he was successful in aiding the Nuit enclave, it would be no small thing to have the gratitude of the Citadel of Sahova. "Shall we go now?" he asked, daring an old trick hardly even practiced anymore; he and Azilis had attempted to teach themselves a bit of the Flux back in the day, and he began moving his own energies around a bit, trying to energize what was exhausted. Nuit did not sleep; he could not afford to either. "No sense in waiting," he said grimly. "Drainira certainly isn't."

[Tarot]

Hadrian had every right to suspect he was being used like a toy. In a way, he stood at the lowest rung of the great game of manipulation, with each party pulling the strings of those under them. Tossed from one place to the next, he could only hope to withstand the currents and somehow get out of the sea of trouble fate had thrown him into. "It probably wouldn't have happened under normal circumstances," Farke admitted, "but then again it is during a crisis that the best opportunities arise." The undead cautiously made his way out of the room, motioning for Hadrian to follow. He closed the door behind them and began heading down a corridor, hopefully towards the apartments of Zarik Mashaen. Sahova was pretty much labyrinthine. Each section was designed to keep working independently of the others even in the event of separation either temporary or permanent. Farke navigated the blue-lit corridors with ease, but someone unfamiliar with the layout would have needed some kind of assistance of breadcrumb trail not to get lost in minutes. After a while, they stopped in front of an ornate wooden door, bigger than that of Rela's room. Farke knocked on the door twice. "It's open," said a male voice from the inside. The Nuit opened and walked in respectfully. The room was bigger than Rela's, maybe three times as large, but not immense by any sense of the word. It was furnished with more bookshelves, and unfinished golems decorated the walls at regular intervals. The Archwizard sat at his desk, looking every bit like he did when he was alive - he alone in the Citadel had the right to make himself look that way with Morphing. Thirty-something, black hair, intelligent eyes; it wasn't even immediately clear he was a Nuit until he spoke and revealed the characteristic dark tongue. "Come in, Farke. I see you brought a visitor. Do make yourself at ease, and pardon me for not offering refreshments. We have little need for them," the Archwizard said. "Yes. This is Hadrian Helius. It's a long story, but basically, Rela is dead." Mashaen's head turned suddenly at the news from Farke. The man continued. "Drainira is most likely involved." There was a short pause, after which the Archwizard gestured at the chairs in front of the desk. He sounded genuinely sad over the loss of Rela. "Take a seat, both of you. Rela will be missed. She was my student at the Academy. She even helped me with the final assignments when I was overwhelmed with work. A bit acidic at times, but she wasn't a bad person if you got to know her better." Mashaen paused, more absorbed in the memory than in inquiring about the circumstances. Perhaps this was why others ruled the Citadel in his stead these days.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian accepted Master Farke's analysis with equanimity; after all, he agreed. Perhaps there was a silver lining to getting caught up in this mess: he was meeting powerful and important people in the process in the forms of Masters Farke and Mashaen, though of course, their interest might not be exactly healthy or safe. But Hadrian had long ago chosen a life of calculated risks for himself in the pursuit of arcane knowledge. Sparing only glances of Auristic-enhanced vision as they walked through the blue lit maze, he realized that he wasn't going to learn much that way with his limited skills and low energy. He was only surviving now on energy Fluxed from his reserves, and he was going to have to find food, water, and a place to sleep unmolested soon. To say that he was overwhelmed by meeting Zarik Mashaen was an understatement, but he managed to keep it all inside. Perhaps it was his very weariness that prevented him from embarrassing himself, though his chlorine-blue eyes were very wide in his pale, drawn face. In that moment, he attempted to memorize the Archwizard's energy signature, the better to recognize it if he found it elsewhere and elsewhen, if they kept him on the hunt for Drainira and her associates. The room was as he imaged it would be. These wizards had power, both arcane and political, and had no need to flaunt it with palatial appointments, even though it was in their power. A latent hero-worship for Zarik Mashaen flickered within him, but he tried to tamp it out. He knew better than to idolize people such as these; he respected them, but he had to be canny and wise or he would never be able to survive in such potent presences. He bowed, and it was not graceful. He was tall and gangling and while he had been schooled in etiquette by his mother, he was not raised in some court like this ancient had been. "Hadrian Aelius," he said before rising, sliding the correction in as subtly as possible so as not to irritate Master Farke, who was the closest thing he had to a protector at the moment. When he stood up again to his fairly impressive height, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Mashaen." After he sat as the Archwizard bade him, he explained what had happened to him from his arrival on the docks to their recent inspection of Master Rela's chambers, leaving out nothing, not even the fact that he had not ruled out Mashaen's involvement. "I mean no disrespect," he said; indeed, his tone held the utmost respect. "But while I am not an Ano Cultist, it seems premature to rule out anyone without infallible proof, and as I am an outsider, I do not have the foundation for such trust and proof as others, such as Master Farke here, might. And, of course, I am not attempting to prove anything about anyone, except to be that outsider eye and voice as has been requested of me."

[Tarot]

Mashaen leaned back in his seat, and for the very first time his gaze really focused on the man in front of him, as if awakening from his half-torpor. Hadrian could see his aura flare a little when he did. He had a peculiar signature, typical perhaps of someone having spent so much time around magic that his very bones were drenched in its smell, more so than Rela or Farke. He listened to what Hadrian had to say with a curious expression on his face. His reply came after a while. "At ease, soldier," he gave a little smile, "Farke here is our resident assassin. If he didn't find a reason to kill you, be assured I won't, either. Speak your mind freely, do not let your tongue hold the interesting bits. Now, I wouldn't recommend too much frankness if it were Qiao in front of you, but me? I was born a researcher and died a researcher once. My primary concern is with the truth." He laced his fingers together as he regarded the human visitor. "It's just that sometimes, the truth is painful to accept, Hadrian." He explained himself calmly, his voice clinical but with the cadence of a grandfatherly tale. "I was born in a country on the brink of annihilation. Please keep that in mind. You, the new generation, don't really know what it means to belong in a nation. All you have is a smattering of distant cities, each one with its sights and customs and stories. To leave your walls is to be a stranger and you are each your own nation. It was different back then. The loss of a city, a tragedy. Our countrymen, dying by the day. As a child, I saw the futility of war. As an adult, I was recruited to help my country win it... somehow. I did what I could, with the skills I had. My talents lay with the creation of minds. Even within Alahea there were some who thought humans shouldn't be gifted with such powers, but I thought I had been given this gift for a reason. That gifts are meant to be used, not wasted. I always wanted to create a being that would rise above the petty contingencies of the human mind, which really is a flawed thing. Nobody wants war, yet we're always at war. Because all we see is our own perspective, I wanted to forge something that could see what we don't, stand taller and lead the way. The first mistake was mine, to be sure. Not because I created Drainira, but because I betrayed her. We had this overwhelming magical intelligence and all we did was to hang it on some wall to watch over a bunch of walking corpses with so little hope of ever accomplishing our task. I elevated her mind to such a height that individual human lives look like ants from up there. In retrospect, we had it coming and no-one really suspected a thing except Qiao. He never liked Drainira. I think her plan took as long as it did because of him and his suspicions. But, to answer your question, no, I didn't free her. I didn't change her killphrase and I definitely didn't stage this coup. We have lost many good people in the struggle and its aftermath. Surely, if I had wanted to liberate my creation, I would have done so in such a way that none of my people would have been hurt. What do you think?" He smiled, and waited to hear the man's answer.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian did his best to maintain eye contact with Mashaen while he spoke without actually staring, but it was difficult to do so in the presence of a living -- sort of -- legend. He did, however, glance at Farke when he was identified as the assassin par excellence. A half-smile thanked him for not snuffing his life like a candle, and returned to the archwizard, whose paternal tone made impartiality more difficult. He found himself wanting to like the uncrowned king of Nuits, even as his more rational mind warned him that such feelings might betray him in the future. "So Qiao is the devil's advocate, like me," he said, unsure whether it was wise to compare himself. It seemed Qiao was maneuvering for personal power as well. "I was born and raised in Syliras," he offered, just in case Mashaen was at all interested. Perhaps he would be despite his vaunted status. After all, he seemed like a kindred spirit: a person who wanted, above all else, to know. "Educated in Zeltiva... in old Alahean buildings." He nodded, considering what all Mashaen had said. In his study of anthropology, he had often tried to look at the world objectively, comparing it to the different mindset that would of necessity have existed previous to the Valterrian. He could understand why Rela had seemed so taken with Mashaen in her way, but the chess pieces of this game moved in ways he did not yet apprehend, and the chessboard was unfamiliar to him. "What you say sounds plausible, Master Mashaen," he said with hands spread wide. He could listen to the Masters speak about dead Alahea from a personal as well as anthropological vantage for weeks, or question them about the intricacies of their magics, but instead he was here trying to figure out a riddle without enough information, searching for patterns of an order above what he understood. "I could counter that perhaps Master Qiao has been playing a deeper game, setting himself up as an enemy to Drainira while secretly cooperating. She must have some non-golem allies. Of course, it is all speculation. I'm looking for patterns and things that stick out, but I imagine it will be one of you who actually figures this thing out. Though if she is as intelligent as you say, she might be Sagallius' favorite, and then I wouldn't give myself any odds of outsmarting her."

[Tarot]

"Qiao is a… complex person," Mashaen put it after some thinking, "more so than I am. Give me a new golem to make or study and I'll be so preoccupied with it to forget about real people for a long while. Qiao knows people and their dynamics far better than I do. In a way, he was the ideal right hand man for someone like me; his abilities always complemented mine to perfection. And while we have never seen eye to eye on many things, he surely means Sahova's good." The unspoken subtext here being - Qiao must care for what he considered his personal fiefdom. Farke tapped his foot lightly and tilted his head. Mind reading would not have been necessary, the gesture was evident enough. 'You sure it's okay to share so much with a perfect stranger?' "Worry not, Farke," Mashaen voiced the reply to the unvoiced objection with a faint smile. "We need to reach out to the mainlanders somehow. It's the least we can do after the nightmare we have unleashed on them. Frankly, I am deeply worried about the fate of the world. Back then, with so many people and resources, no single mage - no matter how powerful - could have embarked on a quest to rule the world. Now, though… the new world is empty and fragile. Supervisors have an uncanny ability to learn things. I mean that. It's the truly incredible thing about them. Drainira is a golem and, without a doubt, knows Animation to a high level. Now that she has a body and freedom of movement, she can actually modify herself. Can you imagine how that would be? She'll be doing that all the time if I know her. Absorbing skills from people who have mastered them. She won't mind losing a battle if it can earn her precious knowledge for the next time." He thought about it a little and nodded. The next topic brought a distinct tone of displeasure to his voice. He definitely didn't like the subject. "About Sagallius… I am actually almost sure he was involved in this. Sagallius came up with the idea for Sahova and picked its location. Also, the idea of installing a Supervisor here was his. It's useless to beat around the bush, we suspect gnosis was used to control some of ours and Sagallius' fits the bill nicely. One thing I still wonder, though… Drainira has proven very well that she has no loyalties to speak of - she just maximizes her profit at every turn. Which is a sad development given all the personality I always tried to put into her." "So, what makes Sagallius so confident that he'll keep loyal to him, that she won't betray him like she did us? She can evolve, change. Isn't he worried that she may evolve in such a way to forsake him?" Mashaen frowned, as if he'd already given the question a lot of thought. "What does he have that she wants? What strings has he attached to her? An interesting matter, don't you think?" He smiled. "But I guess it doesn't get us any closer to solving the mystery of who changed her killphrase. I can rule out that she may have done so herself. It is physically impossible for a caged Supervisor to change their own structure. It's like trying to put on two socks at the same time while standing - you just can't. Where does that leave us, young Hadrian?"

[Hadrian]

Hadrian kept quiet and listened while Mashaen spoke; it was difficult not to allow such a famous mage free rein to talk as he would. But when he did ask a question, Hadrian did attempt to put together his thoughts on all that was said. It felt strange to be pulled so quickly into the inner circle of Sahova, or part of it, at least. Perhaps that was an illusion, or perhaps Mashaen was a good enough judge of character to put some trust in Hadrian based on what little he knew and what more he could infer. "Then Qiao is not a prime suspect," he allowed, although he could not in good conscience dismiss him entirely. If Sagallius was involved, as Mashaen seemed certain he was, then could anyone fully withstand his godly power? Could his gnosis have taken control of Mashaen, Qiao, Farke, and left them unaware of His machinations? "It seems we are at a dead end attempting to identify accomplices, willing or otherwise. It is likely that they would have been destroyed at the first opportunity once their utility dried up. "If you truly wish to reach out to the rest of Mizahar, then perhaps my chances of living to leave Sahova aren't so bad after all." He smiled faintly. "I have no wish to be enslaved by Drainira. Perhaps I could even pass along information if I find any in my travels. I mean, it's in my best interest and the best interest of all people to combat her. I don't know what she wants from Sagallius, but I fear it might be the Heart of Aquiras. If she wants to become more and more powerful, how much more powerful and dangerous could she be as a goddess?" He let that drop into their ears, and then he actually shivered in the silence that followed. A Supervisor Goddess would likely turn people into automatons. He was glad that he had been kind to golems, as best he could be. But it did not seem that any amount of good will would put Drainira off.

[Tarot]

"Some riddles can only be solved if you know the riddler," Mashaen observed, dropping the talk of Qiao. Farke seemed to relax slightly as he did. "Maybe we don't stand a chance at finding the traitor until we have discovered more about our enemies. Sagallius Hrinn was my mentor and my superior and yet I cannot say I truly know the man. Surely there must be hints out there, connections that survived the cataclysm. You may even be able to find them. The world belongs to you now, and the responsibility for its existence also falls upon you." The undead wizard stared at Hadrian, as if intrigued by something he said. "A goddess, you say… but that is not possible, young Hadrian," he shook his head. "I think I still have the research paper somewhere in this room. It's a seminal writing by the first modern Animator, Yovinkus Wotch. A required reading in General Magic 1, that's just how important it was. It's sad wizards these days have lost so much of the theory. It's like you have to reinvent the wheel every time you wish to build a cart." Mashaen rapped his fingers on the desk. "The gist of that paper is a proof that the pseudo-souls of golems are not immortal. They are not linked to the Chavi. They do not reincarnate. They cannot ascend to godhood. To a golem, death is final. The end. Back then, that paper was a true magical breakthrough. It dispelled centuries of superstition about Animation and propelled it as a credible magical art. Suddenly, wizards knew what they were dealing with. No longer dabbling with the obscure, they were creating and destroying known quantities." Then, Mashaen bowed his head in front of Hadrian and a look of sadness crossed even his dead eyes. "How shameful of me. Five and a half centuries making golems. All this time, I never considered what they might think of their condition. I created beings intelligent enough to understand Yovinkus' proof. I never considered whether a golem might actually be afraid of death. I only thought about giving life, but never really considered the promise of the end looming in front of them. If everyone around you was destined to exist forever in some form - but you, and you alone, weren't - then how would you react? What would you do? I never… never truly considered life from Drainira's perspective. I had it coming." Farke interrupted him and his curt speech sealed Mashaen's monologue. "Golems are golems. People are people. The two should never mix. I have learned that much from Sahova, Archwizard."

[Hadrian]

Hadrian quietly noted Farke relaxing, but didn't immediately connect it to talk of Qiao. Instead he thought of his own mentors as Mashaen spoke, of Stonemiller and Nightshade in Zeltiva; a human and a Symenestra. He wondered what it would have been like to be educated in a pre-Valterrian school, or even in Sahova among the walking dead. "I will do what I can for the world that is mine," he said simply. "And I was just thinking of that, Master Mashaen. Perhaps someday I can return for another education. I learned among pre-Valterrian buildings, but you all were part of the pre-Valterrian culture. Someone recently told me that innovation is what saved us from the post-Valterrian dangers, and I agree, but I would still like to learn the lessons of the past." Perhaps his wasn't the same wisdom as the book-seller's. "Well, it is good to know that she does have limitations, but... Would Sagallius not be able to maintain the template of her sentience even if her shell, whatever houses her pseudo-soul now, were destroyed?" It wasn't that he couldn't trust a proof, but he knew well enough that several 'proofs' had later been disproved when some fundamental assumption it was built upon proved unreliable. "Do you think it's true what they say, then? That Kihala disdains the art? If it's not true creation but only a shadow of life..." He let that hang out there for his elders to answer in their wisdom. The assassin and the archwizard, with Hadrian attempting to walk out of there alive.