03-16-2023, 09:43 AM
What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
Perhaps she should listen as others voice their thoughts and questions. Some part of her does, her mind filing information away like it always does, paying at least enough attention to scoff at the suggestion that magic influence had caused this war. Oh, how she wishes she had such an excuse. How she wishes she had any excuse for all the blood on her hooves, but she acted out of her own volition, telling herself it was her “duty” to fight a war without reason and without end. How blind, how foolish, she had been. Her duty should have been to end it, consequences be damned. But Rezza had followed in the footsteps of those who’d come before her without thought, doing what she’d thought was right until finally, finally, the cloud had been lifted from her eyes. Too little and too late though. Her attention snaps back when the sprites start to move them through time, and she watches things she is less familiar with now. Skirmishes she wasn’t part of, though things she had heard about and even scenes with other Baltians she’d known. She sees the land of the ruins before it was ruins, a place she’d seen personally, though she’d never seen it at peace. Now she is face to face with the ghosts of her collateral damage, the innocent lives that were killed as she’d stood by giving suggestions on how to do it. They cannot see her, she knows, but still their eyes seem to bore into her, accusatory. Murderer they seem to say, though the chorus of the dead lives inside her own mind, fueled by guilt.
The visions of the past blur with her own memories, and she sees herself and Helice with their Queen leading other battles, watching their men and women die. She remembers counting dead bodies like one counts blades of grass, as if bored by it. She sees Timais and Tsilitsuli lifeless on the beach, and their death feels more like the beginning of atonement now. Not senseless, but necessary. Perhaps that’s where she belongs too - dead on the beach, ages of hatred and animosity dying with her. Though she feels no hatred for the Stratosians now.
The world spins around her, and she watches what the sprites show and her own memories fill in the gaps until finally they stop on a beach. It’s a place Rezza does not know, a time so far back that there are no stories that come to mind, no horses Rezza might have known that had lived in this timeline. How many centuries have they traversed? The sprites explain that this is a time when Baltia and Stratos barely even knew of each other, which feels like it’s still probably true in a way. What does Rezza know of Stratos except the lies she’s been fed all her life?
But then, the scene unfolds in front of them, and Rezza’s mind stills to watch. Children - this all started with children. Children playing and a horrible accident and a horrendous misunderstanding. There were not just two deaths resulting from this day but thousands upon thousands. Rezza only stares at the scene, these two children dead in the water from a Roc. When the children are finally found the next day, Rezza doesn’t have to guess what will happen. She knows what this looks like. A handful of Baltians - so strange and other - standing around the broken body of a Stratosian child. If any of her knowledge of Stratos is correct, they are a kingdom that values family above most everything else. One dead child might truly be enough to start a war.
Then the sprites adjust the scene so Rezza is no longer a ghost here, giving her a chance to right a wrong, even if this is only make believe. Rezza stands there for a moment longer until the eyes of the adults turn to the Baltian stranger who does not belong with the rest of them. She knows her disadvantage coming into this, a Baltian herself. Why should they trust her? Why would the Stratosians, who are already wary? Why would the Baltians, who know she does not belong here?
Still, if Rezza has ever had a true weapon, it has always been her words. She has spent a lifetime weidling them, leaving death and destruction in her wake. Maybe this time she could manage to use them for good. “I know what this looks like, and I can try to convince you that it’s not what you think but an accident. Two foals playing in the wrong place at the wrong time. The boy was struck by a falling rock, and the girl tried to save her friend. Her friend, because children don’t see as we do - they don’t see how different we look, they don’t worry that strangers might hurt them. No, they see hope and friendship and love.”
She pauses, her eyes wet though she doesn’t cry. No, Rezza has seen far too much for tears, but the idea of hope and love is such a beautiful thing that it may have the power to bring her to tears. Though now is not the time, though emotion creeps into her voice, lending it not weakness but truth and strength. ”If this is what you think, tell me why Baltians would kill their own child? Or why two children would kill one another, or how they even could based on the wounds on their bodies? But even if you don’t believe me, even if this is exactly what it looks like, don’t let it lead to worse. I have seen and lived and contributed to what becomes of Stratos and Baltia in the future. We will tear each other apart. Things start small, but they escalate, and not only do we kill one another but we kill those that stand between us until the seas of Baltia are red with blood and the clouds of Stratos weep with shame.”
Her voice does not falter and it does not break, though if they miss the truth of her words it is not for lack of emotion on her face. “”Leave here today in a way that honors those children. They sought friendship. Give them that and honor their death. Do not let today lead to anger and hostility and ultimately war, for then their deaths are in vain.” She falls silent, knowing that this world is pretend, knowing that what has been done cannot be undone. But still, this moment matters. If she does not succeed, what becomes of Beqanna and the innocent lives there? What becomes of Baltia and Stratos? She does not want to imagine it, and so she stays in this moment, praying that her words work.
REZZA