SEVERAL WEEKS AFTER NECTUS' PLANS ADVANCE, A HUMAN WITNESSES THEM FROM A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SIDE, ONE FULL OF BOTH KNOWLEDGE AND IGNORANCE.
His name was Lord Farini ma Michka Hetsha, and he was the ruler of Upper Grazahmich province, holding court.
The spacious stone hall with massive tapestries covering its walls stayed unchanged regardless of the woes happening outside—if the servants stopped doing their job well to maintain the place, someone would've lost his head.
But the gloom faces of the courtiers reflected the darkness that fell on their province. From the height of his throne, Farini examined their faces, wondering how many of them were plotting how to best sell him to the High King so they could save their hides.
'It should have never come to this…' Farini thought wearily.
Just a few moons ago, his province was doing well. Not prospering—it wasn't prospering for a long time now—but most of his people at least had bread on their tables.
Then, a sudden flood, not foretold by any priest or a shaman, poured down on the province, destroying homes and crop fields of thousands of people overnight. Thousands more were affected by side-effects of such a tragedy.
In situations like these, riots grew like mushrooms after a rain. To placate the people, Farini asked the High King for help.
Before his request even reached him, the province lord of Lower Grazahmich claimed Farini was about to start an armed rebellion, and sent an army to Upper Grazahmich.
Farini didn't even have time to refute the claim. He had to defend his lands from being blatantly robbed under the guise of "just punishment"—but this only gave his opponents more fuel.
As if he didn't have enough punishments.
People claimed the flood was a divine judgment for the sins of the people, or—if they were too bold or stupid for their own good—that it was a punishment for the sins of their rulers. The province lord, and the High King himself, based on who was talking.
Farini refused to think that his small indulgences deserved punishment like that. He put ten years of his life as a ruler toward his province's prosperity, toiling hard despite everything.
People whose line went back to the original settlers of this area, who called themselves people of Grochha, hated Farini because his father was Naregan. Nobles who came to the province from the larger kingdom looked down on Farini because his mother was Grochha.
Farini's Chancellor was one of the latter people. Even now, as he bowed respectfully and presented his report, he couldn't fully hide the disdainful twitch of his mouth.
"Lord Farini, I bring dire news. Plagues keep falling upon your province and slay your soldiers right as they march into battle…"
The Chancellor spoke about outbreaks of unheard-of illnesses everywhere, especially among marching soldiers, who were always vulnerable to that sort of thing. Although the man mentioned that armies of Lower Grazahmich (which by now entered the territory of Lower Grazahmich) also suffered, he moved past it as soon as he could.
"The priests who claim it to be a punishment of gods must be right," the Chancellor said, raising his palms toward the ceiling. "I implore you, my lord, bow your head before the High King and admit your wrongdoings before the entire province suffers!"
Farini scowled and let out an angry hiss. Other courtiers still had enough fear and respect for him to shake their head in reproach of Chancellor's words.
But Farini knew that many of them quietly agreed.
"You know as well as I do that the province's troubles began before we raised our arms to protect our homes and our families, Chancellor! If anything, perhaps the gods tell me to weed the sinners out of my court like a gardener weeds his garden."
The Chancellor bowed again, and even had the sense to apologize for the boldness of his words, claiming that they were a mistake of an addled mind.
Farini made him pay a monetary fine for telling them, anyway. If The Chancellor just got away with speaking these things in front of people, Farini might as well cut off his own head.
Still, he felt wasn't far away. One after another, his courtiers brought nothing good.
The armies of Lower Grazahmich besieged an important city; there was talk of actual sedition and rebellion among the people; the food reserves didn't magically grow overnight, and other provinces were still extremely reluctant to trade with a "rebel".
To top it off, there was a ridiculous rumor spreading of the lord's palace—that Farini wasn't punished by gods, but haunted instead. Several people claimed they heard voices in their heads sometimes, asking strange questions and giving directions.
"Nonsense!" Farini declared. "If you are so tired that you hear voices, try resting more. If you can't rest—gods know these days nobody gets any rest—then pray. But don't speak about these things in front of me again."
Farini didn't care if the voices were real or just a figment of someone's imagination. For the sake of his own mind, he threw the rumors out of his head immediately after.
Several hours later he left the court, still thinking only about a way to deal with the Lower Grazahmich without angering the High King and somehow surviving the famine.
It was all too much to deal with at once.
Farini's steps were heavy with well-hidden despair. He avoided the touch of his wife and even the taste of wine.
Instead, he prayed at his home altar.
'If this is truly a divine punishment… I'm sure that the people of the province didn't deserve it. Not all of them. Gods, strike those who are guilty, but why punish those who are innocent?'
'What are "guilt" and "innocence"? Your problems aren't a punishment or a trial—they are just a part of the natural order of things. The trial is how you withstand living in this order, Farini. And the gods have deemed you worthy, and sent you help.'