Nonlethal Force
First Post
Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION
The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.
As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need.
Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.
None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.
Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.
The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”
Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.
Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.
Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”
Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”
Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.
Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.
Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”
Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”
Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”
Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”
Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.
Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”
Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”
Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.
Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.
The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”
Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.
Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.
Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”
When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.
Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”
Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.
Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.
On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.
Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.
Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.
After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.
Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”
She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”
Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.
As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.
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Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION
The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.
As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need.
Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.
None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.
Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.
The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”
Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.
Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.
Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”
Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”
Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.
Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.
Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”
Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”
Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”
Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”
Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.
Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”
Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”
Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.
Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.
The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”
Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.
Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.
Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”
When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.
Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”
Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.
Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.
On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.
Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.
Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.
After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.
Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”
She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”
Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.
As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.
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The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.
As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need.
Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.
None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.
Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.
The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”
Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.
Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.
Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”
Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”
Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.
Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.
Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”
Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”
Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”
Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”
Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.
Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”
Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”
Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.
Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.
The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”
Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.
Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.
Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”
When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.
Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”
Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.
Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.
On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.
Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.
Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.
After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.
Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”
She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”
Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.
As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.
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Chapter Thirteen: DELUSIVE CESSATION
The next morning came much too quickly for Rhema’s taste. She knew that the only reasonable person in the party to use as bait for Lord Ironblood was Ischarus. Being a lord of Tongra, and thus a military leader, Lord Ironblood had a good stature and was trained in the use of armors and weapons. Of the party, Ischarus was the natural match.
As for the others, they might have pulled it off it the party wanted to rely heavily on a magical disguise. For that matter, magic could have made Charis or even Rhema into the spitting image of Lord Ironblood. The problem with illusion magic is that it is only a projection into the minds of the observers of what they expect to see. If one person is capable of seeing through the mental projection, then they can convince others to try and see through the illusion. While this is only a small concern in most isolated circumstances, the more people who are going to be seeing the illusion implies that the illusion has a greater chance of ultimate failure. With a figure as famous as Lord Ironblood, the illusion might have to be called on to fool several crowds of people. Illusion magic was not really designed to accomplish that kind of task under the odds of success that the country of Tongra would need.
Thus, it was determined that the majority of the disguise would have to be a legitimate physical disguise. Ophee was certain that she could accomplish the task of making Ischarus’ face into a close enough approximation to that of Lord Ironblood. Ischarus was close enough in height that if they could avoid close contact with the majority of the public, they should be able to convince everyone that there was nothing unusual occurring. Nobody within the party knew how familiar Allyssa was with Lord Ironblood, so they weren’t sure if a close encounter with her would work or not.
None of these facts made Rhema appreciate the coming of the morning any more. The party had stayed as Brandt’s guests for the evening and when Rhema awoke she discovered that Ischarus had already left her. He was no doubt well into formulating the make-up disguise with Ophee, and Rhema knew that by this point she could do nothing but worry anymore.
Rhema threw the blanket and sheet away from her body. The weight of the heavy wool blanket and the thick cotton sheet collected at the foot of the mattress. After several moments, the heavy material accepted the pull of gravity and slid to the ground at the foot of the bed. She lay on the bed for a few more moments before rising and changing into the outfit that had been collected for her. Lord Ironblood had not only agreed to the plan, but he had supplied the three remaining party members with the proper armor and dress of his personal guard.
The teal shirt fit well, and the protective leather vest slipped over the shirt. When she had pulled on the black cotton pants that had been provided, she realized just how much she appeared to be one of Lord Ironblood’s elite guards. Her stomach turned inside her as she muttered to herself. “I never expected to don the imperial colors of an extortionist. I hope that in his gratitude for saving our lives he is willing to give my father a break on what he demands to keep the operation of the villa a secret.”
Rhema fastened the leather guards to her thighs and knees. The leather had been stuffed lightly in order to provide an additional layer of protection for the legs of Lord Ironblood’s guards. The leather had been dyed a teal color to match the shirt. She had to confess that the outfit that had been provided looked sharp. She didn’t mind how she looked as much as she minded what her look represented.
Rhema pulled her long wavy hair back into a functional ponytail and checked herself once more in the mirror. She breathed in deeply and muttered some more. “Well, let’s get this day over with. Hopefully after today we can return to my father and focus on rebuilding what’s left to be done.” She moved to the door and opened it with a jerk. Only moments later she had strolled down the hall far enough to see Ophee’s work upon Ischarus.
Rhema smiled, although there was bitterness and worry within her amazement. “Wow! Ischarus, I don’t even recognize you!”
Ischarus began to smile, but Ophee chastised him quickly. “Don’t you dare! If you smile now, you might leave a wrinkle in the make-up. It has another twenty minutes before it is completely dry. Once it has dried appropriately, then you can smile all you want. But unless you want me to have to start completely over from scratch, don’t you dare!”
Ischarus allowed the more somber look to return to his face. It was clear from her tone that Ophee wouldn’t be pleased with Ischarus talking, either. He rolled his eyes in Rhema’s direction. It wasn’t an action intended to speak against Ophee, it was simply an acknowledgement that his eyes were the only thing on his face that could move for the next twenty minutes.
Rhema looked away from her husband’s disguise and saw Brandt standing among two of Lord Ironblood’s personal guard. As she looked closer, Rhema discerned that the guards were actually Semeion and Charis. They had already been touched up with make-up from Ophee. Ophee had done enough that even Rhema had to work hard to see Semeion and Charis underneath the disguise. She heard that they were talking to Brandt, so their make-up must have been applied before Ischarus’ disguise.
Rhema walked over to the trio and spoke, feeling confident that they could reply. “You guys look simply amazing!”
Charis gave Rhema a quick embrace, knowing that Rhema was being pulled in several emotional directions. She remembered back to how she felt when Semeion was reported to be dead having been killed by her father dragon’s provenience. She forced her mind away from the pain by remembering the joy that she felt when he appeared in the tunnels below the mountain. “He’ll be fine, Rhema. Brandt has it under control.”
Rhema turned back to Brandt. “Really? I imagine that Allyssa is going to use some kind of poison on him to make sure he dies. How can you know that you are able to counteract the poison?”
Brandt looked down to her face and tried to smile in a comforting manner. “Rhema, Reah has granted me the power to save him. She is the goddess of justice. Do not kid yourself. If something should happen to Ischarus, Reah will come to his aid.”
Semeion gave Brandt an interesting look, but didn’t interrupt Brandt’s explanation to Rhema. Semeion’s look was a mix of intrigue and disgust. The look went unnoticed by Brandt since the follower of Reah had needed to turn slightly to speak to Rhema.
Brandt continued. “Rhema, there is nothing short of stealing Ischarus’ body that can harm him completely on this day. I’ll ward him against many forms of attack that can take his life. But the truth is that he’ll need to at least feign death to make the action believable. But rest in Reah’s justice.”
Rhema scowled at Brandt’s words. She knew that they had been meant as comfort, but she didn’t see them in that tone. “If you are so confident that he can be saved under any circumstance, then why does he need to take Lord Ironblood’s place?”
Ischarus growled underneath the make-up. “Rhema!” Her name come out of his mouth in with a slurred inflection. He hadn’t moved his lips because he didn’t want Ophee to yell at him again for moving his face.
Brandt tried to shake off Rhema’s anger. “The truth? Lord Ironblood is not that expendable.” There was little sympathy on his face.
The words tore through Rhema like a poisoned dagger. However, Brandt had meant it to hurt. He knew that in order for Rhema to get over her emotions and play a productive role in the events of the day she would have to face her fear of his death and move along. Brandt spoke again before Rhema could lash out in her anger. “Think about it, Rhema. By using Ischarus, it makes a statement. It says that the plans of Yrraxea were discovered by the good people of Tongra and especially the followers of Reah. We are not only able to foil their plan, but we are able to set up our own trap as a defense against the Yrraxeans. By having Ischarus play in this role, we can say for certain that we were aware of the Yrraxean plot. It will bring confidence in Reah to the people of Tongra.”
Rhema could hear the wisdom in Brandt’s explanation, but she still had a bit of hurting inside to work her way through. “So you are using my husband to benefit your religion?” The venom in her voice was obvious.
Brandt didn’t have a chance to speak before Ischarus, who was listening intently. “They aren’t using me. I want to do this for the people of Tongra and for Reah. It is my religion, too.” His speech continued to sound slurred because he didn’t want to move his lips.
Rhema turned to Ischarus and lashed out in anger. As she spun around, her finger stuck out and pointed angrily at her husband. “Stay out of this! This is between me and Brandt!”
When she heard the words that came out of her mouth, she realized what she had said. She realized that while her emotions weren’t wrong because they were founded in her love for Ischarus, they weren’t right either. They were selfish. They held no consideration about the good that could come to the faith of the people. She just wanted Ischarus safe, but the time had come for her to trust.
Charis saw Rhema on the verge of tears, and nobody in the room was willing to speak until Rhema had dealt with her feelings internally. Charis embraced Rhema once more, and this time she didn’t let go. Rhema clung to the woman that she had come to consider a sister. Tears burst from her eyes and she spoke words that she never expected to mean. “I’ll trust Reah.”
Up until now Reah had simply been Ischarus’ and to some extent Charis’ security blanket. She was fine with Ischarus putting so much stock in Reah and her justice. There was nothing wrong with Brandt and pursuing justice, but Rhema had never understood why Rhema’s name being attached to the pursuit of justice made it more significant. Rhema had assumed that what Ischarus thought was faith was simply an emulation of Brandt. She knew that Ischarus had come to look to Brandt as a spiritual director as much as a mentor in the arts of magic. Rhema simply assumed that Reah had become something akin to a hobby for Ischarus.
Now she had found a new depth inside of her. She didn’t speak her last three words because she thought it was the right thing to do. In truth, speaking those words had exposed a deep wound inside of her. She knew that she couldn’t muster the strength inside of her to accept this plan on her own. She couldn’t find the strength within her to let Ischarus run the risk of dying. From her self-centered perspective, the plan was stupid. It didn’t matter how much Brandt assured her that Ischarus was in good hands. On the level where all she cared about was her own needs and desires, the plan to make Ischarus vulnerable was simply obtuse and without enough reward to warrant the risk.
On a deeper level, she knew that the plan made perfect sense. The people needed something to believe in. It wasn’t that the world worked better through the morality, love, and justice that following Reah – or even Bemme – brought. The people of Tongra needed something bigger than themselves to believe in. They needed life to be about more than themselves. They needed a bigger picture, a picture of life where people were willing to give of themselves for the sake of others. They needed to know that life was big enough to risk dying in order that others might live in security. This made no sense to her selfish desires, but even deeper inside she knew it made more sense than she cared to admit.
Rhema also knew that if it was to make sense in her life, she needed help believing that it was the right thing to do. Rhema needed help understanding that putting Ischarus in jeopardy was a meaningful act. She needed help getting over her selfish worldview. She needed more help than anyone who was alive could offer. She needed Reah.
Silence consumed the room after Rhema spoke the words and then broke into tears. Charis gripped Rhema even more tightly out of joy for the fact that Rhema’s mind had just leapt a deep chasm of understanding. Semeion and Brandt were lost in trying to determine exactly what level Rhema had meant the words. Ophee stopped applying make-up for a moment, as the words that had been spoken touched a nerve within her. Ischarus fought hard to keep tears back himself, knowing that any tears he shed now would cause Ophee to have to reapply the make-up from the beginning.
After a few moments, Ophee went back to work as she put the finishing touches to Ischarus’ face. She smiled, but motioned for Ischarus to keep still. Ophee didn’t want to speak and interrupt the silence that Rhema’s confession had brought to the room.
Several minutes later Rhema spoke, breaking her own silence. “I’ve always believed in doing good things for others. I mean, my dad taught me that from the very start, and that’s why I’ve always wanted to go into Quehalost. But even in that decision, there was an element of selfishness. It felt good to help them. It felt good knowing that I was making a difference. But even in my words I betray my selfishness. Doing good things for other people was still about me. Yes, I want to help them, and it made me happy to see them have a better life. But it was still about me on a very significant level.”
She paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “But this is something totally different. Today isn’t about me, or even Ischarus. It isn’t about me feeling good because we saved the day. Today is about giving other people a reason to feel safe tomorrow. It isn’t about how good I’ll feel when I go to sleep tonight; it is about the fact that other people will be stronger and more secure for it. It is about risking it all for the sake of other people, whether I get any credit or not. It isn’t about my role, it is about their result. Today for the first time, I see that more clearly than ever before.”
Charis released Rhema and gave her a look that beamed from love. A few moments later Ophee approached Rhema and indicated that her time had come for the process of make-up. Ischarus knew that his make-up had dried, and Rhema’s didn’t take that long to apply once Ophee had started. Semeion, Charis, and Rhema weren’t in the same need as Ischarus. They didn’t need to look like another person; they simply needed to look different than themselves.
As the sun rose over the eastern lands of Tongra, Brandt escorted to party out of his house and into a coach that he had waiting for them. The time for sacrifice was upon them. It was the party against Allyssa once more, and there was no guarantee of success.
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