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Some time ago
In the history of the Illiniarian Kingdom and the republic that followed, the city of Veldaran never held strategic importance and did not stand out on the maps of the country or the world. It was not large, nor was it small; it was not rich in resources, but neither was it poor—it was a most ordinary Illinariar city. However, on this day, fate granted this unremarkable settlement the chance to shine brightly: it sat directly on the border between Ilinar and the demarcated territory of the rebels who had raised an uprising in the west of the country. Today, on this bleak day for the Republic, the rebels managed to drive the remnants of the troops loyal to the current government from their lands. Now, there were more people in the square of this gray and unremarkable city than ever before. An army of thousands of disciplined soldiers stood in neat rows. Black served as the primary color of their brand-new uniforms and armor, white as the accent, with green cloaks adorning their backs.
— Rejoice, my precious comrades! — The voice of the man standing on the podium roared like thunder. — The end of the era of fear, tyranny, and despair is near! No longer shall the elite lord over common people! — The gathered crowd supported the orator with an approving shout. — Our people have long sought a way out and have finally found it: we will build our own country, just and honest to all. — The speaker descended to the others and continued talking as he moved along the orderly rows, gesturing continuously with his hands. — We will have neither rich nor poor; everyone will receive as much as they need. Education, medicine, the opportunity for self-realization—all this will be available to everyone, regardless of their origin! — The rebels let out another synchronized shout. — And most importantly—we will live in peace. We will not try to take from others what does not belong to us, and I very much hope that Ilinar recognizes our desire for self-determination and independence. — Here he gave the listeners a moment to reflect on his words. — And if not, we will force it to do so! — Saying these words, the warrior drew a hand-and-a-half sword from its scabbard and allowed all those gathered to enjoy its bright gleam.
After a couple of minutes, the rebel leader entered his temporary dwelling, rolled his eyes, sighed heavily, and downed a large glass of pure water in one gulp. The room was covered with furs; at the other end, a fireplace crackled slowly. On the table stood a bottle of Nozenroth wine, two glasses, Illinariar cheese, and grapes from Aiswarhen. A slender woman with dark skin and hair as black as night sat on the sofa.
— A wonderful speech, — playful sparks were visible in her golden eyes, — it touched the very depths of my soul.
— Since when do you have a soul? — The warrior shed his leather jacket and settled in next to his companion.
— Ooo — the girl made an offended face, — these words make my little heart suffer.
— Little and black, — the man embraced her with one arm and reached for the grapes with the other. — Are you sure blood flows through your veins and not poison?
— Pff, after that, I don't even know which of us two is more poisonous.
While the two continued their vapid conversation and exchanged such phrases, another person visited the room; it was a young Yorun, about twenty, or most likely even younger.
— Astin. — That was all he said, trying to attract attention. He had the eyes of a hunter.
— You're just in time, Ivor. I actually had something for you. — The rebel leader rose and approached the lad. — Any news?
— A messenger has arrived from Ilinar.
— And what tidings did he bring? — Instead of an answer, the Yorun handed Astin a sealed letter. The warrior decided not to delay and read it immediately. The girl stood beside him, her eyes also scanning the written lines.
“Mentor, I beg you, reconsider! Reconsider before it is too late!
I cannot argue that everything in Ilinar is not as well as the Council describes, and that life for many people in our country is not very kind; however, now is not the time for internal strife. The threat from the south has not gone anywhere; on the contrary—the influence of Teios only grows, despite the demise of Zimudar at the hands of Tyrezit and the mysterious disappearance of Ea. Furthermore, no one can know right now how the government of united Taosia will act. With your rebellion, you are exposing people to far greater danger than you might think. Please, mentor, do not follow this rash path. I know that there are only good intentions in your heart, but your mind is clouded and you do not know where the path you have chosen leads.
If you are concerned about your safety, then do not worry about that either; I will do everything possible to ensure that Tadiel can guarantee your safety”
Signed "Leikuueuero"
The southerner burst into laughter. — Now we're talking! Well, I'll be! — Tears rolled from her golden eyes. — How on earth do you manage to leave people with such a contradictory impression of yourself?!
— People see others as they wish to. — Astin never had his own ideals and could not follow those of others either. Even his speech today was not some carefully constructed lie; he hadn't even thought about what he was going to say before that huge crowd. He only said what these people, in his opinion, wanted to hear. The truth was that, as a rule, he did not lie, but since he didn't care at all about other people or their opinion of him, it was easy for him to "get into character." — Leikuueuero created an image in his head of a person who never existed. — Having said this, Astin threw the letter into the fire.
— Lei... Leiyue... What was his name again?
— It doesn't matter. — The warrior turned away from the annoying woman and returned to the waiting lad. — Returning to the matter I mentioned earlier, I want you to kill the Finance Minister of Ilinar. Can you handle it?
— I will handle it or die trying. How should I do it?
— Your choice.
The assassin departed, and the door behind him was closed, this time with a lock.
— Why Sartos? He's not that big a shot in the council.
— Killing Lutros in such a way is practically impossible; he will turn any killer who comes for his soul into a handful of ash. Arabett lives in the shadows. Sartos is very important to Ilinar, and there should be far fewer problems with eliminating him. He doesn't know how to fight, has no talent for magic, and appears in public often. I've heard that his bodyguards are very strong, but I think Ivor will find some way to handle this task.
— And if he doesn't?
— You heard the lad.
— "I will handle it or die trying," — the girl's face twisted into a wicked smile. — By the way, I thought you knew nothing other than how to swing a sword.
— And I don't, but my long stay in Gaddar and Covellia was enough for me to understand a few things. But you must remember, we are playing with fire and your little kingdom could collapse at any moment.
— My kingdom? — Surprise appeared on the beautiful face.
— That was your idea; I don't care about it. — Finishing his explanations, Astin pushed the southerner onto the table. Grapes spilled onto the floor, the expensive bottle of wine fell with a crash, and fragile glasses shattered to pieces. — My kingdom is right here.
Ple-Sen
Ment
