Changing Times
Shafay Fetosa, bright and cheery, was engaged in an animated conversation in Hu’uti with Detto, a former Hu’ut slave and soldier of Faron who now worked an administrative job outside of Hiuttu, working to establish the foundations for the promised new Hu’ut state. General Fetosa too had made the transition from an active military position to considerably more peaceful and constructive work very smoothly. The youthful, brown-haired man lived a most content life- he had been elevated to the position of General in the final years of the war, won a string of powerful victories, and now worked to plant the seeds of peace and prosperity, which would grow out of the fallow lands of war.
His peace and conversation, however, was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, clad in Faronun military gear.
“It’s General Maeriouhau! He’s had a fit sir!”
“Faerafaen?”
“Yes!”
Immediately, Shafay and his entourage were off.
*****
In the heart of the partially reconstructed palace, the two generals met. Faerafaen was surrounded by a concerned crowd.
“Make way!” shouted Shafay, squeezing his way through the crowd. Dropping to his knees, he glanced at the old man’s eyes- they were shaking and unfocused.
“What is it sir?”
Faerafaen looked at his protégé, and a brief expression, perhaps a sign of relief, passed over his face.
“I must get back to Faron. I have had a terrible revelation-“
“Of what?”
Faerafaen, still lying flat on his back, looked around.
“I must speak to you alone.”
“But-“
“I will be fine. Just get me some water.”
“He needs water!”
In moments, someone answered to the request by bringing forth water, in a rather gaudy bejewelled goblet, presumably one from the Imperial collection. Faerafaen regarded the object with distaste but happily accepted the refreshment.
“Please,” said Shafay, “The General requests my audience alone, for a moment.”
Faerafaen nodded, and the soldiers in the area coerced the concerned crowd out of the room, though not without a few hesitations.
“What is it?”
“I have had a terrible fear for the future of our people. I have held many minor concerns in the past, but just a brief while ago they all came together into a moment of clarity, and the shock... overwhelmed me. I believe I passed out on the floor.”
“They said you had a fit sir.”
“...perhaps I did. But now, I am working to determine what is to be done.”
“Done for what?”
“For Faron, damnit! Shafay, we’re losing what we’ve fought for without a fight!”
“What are you saying? You’re not making any sense! Calm down, or we might lose you aga-“
“Okay! Okay...” Faerafaen calmed himself, pulling his body up into the chair from which it had fallen, and started again. “What would you say of the Faeoria council?”
“What of it? It’s- well, it’s run by the- the...”
“The Maeriouhau, you don’t have to be shy saying that around me. Yes, it’s run by the Faeoria to which I belong, and for how long?”
“How long? Well... longer than I can recall.”
“Longer than you’ve lived, most likely, and for the majority of my life. Now listen, it was not always this way. In old times we’d never keep the same ruler, and control of the country was ever-changing.”
“But it is that way- we’ve had at least four monarchs in the last ten Haia (years). That’s how it’s always been, as far as I understand my history. That’s what sets us apart, that we-“
“I don’t need a lecture from you, General Fetosa. Yes, the kings change, but since when have they ever had power? Not since the Raelof Dynasty- Maohuanaei and his kin, and that was centuries ago. The way it used to be, the power balance between the Faeoria shifted just as fast as the head the rulership rested on. But now, the Maeriouhau have established such an alliance within the council that nothing can dislodge them- they control the kings, and they have for a generation. If something is not done, the Maeriouhau will become the tyrants we have always fought- Rayelaei will be a damned Queen!”
“Such things to say of your own family!”
“Shafay!” shouted Faerafaen, rising to his feet, “Get your deluded head out of the sand and think! It’s not about blind loyalty to our respective Faeoria, or seeking more power for myself or for others, it’s about not becoming in old age the villains that we fought in our youth! My Faeoria has established itself to a terrifyingly autocratic position, and the Faronun, focused so much on standing up against external enemies, have forgotten how to stand up to themselves! If I do not go back and stop this, we will end up a petty dictatorship like every other bloodstained state in this world! I- will- not- let- that- happen!”
“Haiaou above... you’re serious.”
Faerafaen was agog. He dropped back into his chair and held his head. In a moment, the general regained his composure, and gave his junior a deep look.
“You are an idealist, not yet corrupted to bitterness and pessimism like myself. Continue your work here, preparing the Hu’ut to hold the freedom here that you cannot see we are losing at home. I will travel north.”
“Sir?”
“North! I must return to Faron immediately.”
“But-“
“That is an order. You are to take on my role-“
“-until you return.”
“If I return. I must be off.”
With that, Faerafaen rose from his chair, as if rejuvenated. A quick call brought the soldiers back into the room, and a flurry of activity began. By the next morning, the old general had disappeared to the north, as an army of one man with his crucial mission firmly in mind.