A few hours later, the representatives stood again before Bazy’s throne, only this time, Mason sat in a small, but still elegant, chair next to her. The chair had not been there the first time the representatives took their stand, and the message was clear.

Bazy knew exactly what the Marrans were going to do.

The small woman, feeble as she looked, managed to carry with her all of the intelligence that was lacking from her people. It was unclear how she quite accomplished such rapid progress, but it left Mason’s back prickling as he wondered at what secrets she was hiding.

And there was no doubt she was hiding things. Her conversation with Mason had not been brief. She implored him to tell her everything that happened while he was away, asking in detail about how Mowry and Geralt were adjusting to their new quasi-lives within him, about what powers he had gained from training under Sorynel, and especially about the strange soul-mage Artorias. She probed deeply about the Tree of Memories, insisting that Mason not treat it lightly, but after talking to the bird-queen for so long, the human grew guarded.

Bazy was no fool though. As she watched the details dry up in Mason’s mouth, she curled her lips in a wry smile and continued to dig for what he would let loose, and then finally waved him off to rest. This last point she took seriously as she seemed to take everything now. Under armed guard, Mason was led to well-adorned quarters behind the throne room and far from the apartments he had first discovered with Shayjol.

He had been strongly encouraged to take a nap in the comfortable bed, as Bazy did not want to begin the true meeting for several hours- to keep the Marrans waiting, of course. Mason obliged on the surface, but a mixture of nervousness and ambition drew him into the inner world which he was slowly growing familiar with, for a conversation with two people who he knew would have his best interest in mind.

So when he found himself sitting in a seat of authority over the Marrans, next to Lady Bazy, Mason was better rested than he had been since entering the Trials, and patiently cautious. There were snakes in these reeds, but the lone human was learning to tell where they slithered.

“Well, now that all necessary parties are finally here, I say we begin,” Bazy announced over the unsettled looks of the Marrans. They understood the message that Bazy had laid out for them, and even Torysen and Leenel were uncomfortable with it. “Mason, would you stand and state our position for our friends here?”

All of his confidence cooled and froze stiff in his veins. Mason wondered if his eyes were bulging, and then considered that if they fell out of their sockets he’d have an excellent excuse to dismiss himself. But when no such thing occurred, he stood stiffly and gazed down at the five Marrans and fought to remind himself not to look back at Bazy.

She hadn’t warned him of this, but of course, that was part of her plan. Wasn’t it the same as when Torysen had tricked Leenel into defending him before the council? A unified front sometimes worked best when the only thing behind was a wall of spears.

But what was he supposed to say? Mason racked his brains, trying to replay the conversation with Bazy before his nap. What did he say before the council at his impromptu trial? He needed to offer terms the Marrans could accept, while also providing the Biord and Humans some leverage in the future. Which meant he needed to insist upon their worth, and equally how dangerous they could be.

Still stalling for time, he stepped forward, and slowly scanned the eyes of the Marrans, trying to wiggle his way into their minds. Something within him twisted, and he almost could see where each of them came from.

Leenel was the daughter of one of the most powerful people known in this world, someone who had recently been abducted by the enemy. Her own daughter had just risked her life to protect Mason. She’d want to know that Mason was worth the risk. She’d want to know he was offering hope for the future.

Torysen had both lost her brother, and gotten a fragment of him back through Mason. And the risk she had taken for his sake was no small one. She had sided with a dangerous, mystery element, and lost some of her own band defending him.

Coltren and Manlen both considered Mason a threat. They didn’t understand him and feared his power. But that fear could be turned against them, though it would make Mason more of a target for revenge schemes and plots. He didn’t doubt for a minute that both of them would have lost people when the city fell, and for that, they probably hated to see Mason, who they didn’t trust, standing above them.

As for Eldran- he was a mystery. Mason hadn’t yet gotten the full history between him and Faynel, and all he knew so far of the man was that he was some sort of noble, and wore that identity like a caricature.

It was as hung a jury as Mason could hope for, and with Bazy pressuring him to make the first move, he knew that this was yet another trial. Presenting a united front would do no good if Mason was merely a weak link in the fence. He had to prove himself, here and now, as a force to be reckoned with and as a valuable representative of the humans.

He took a deep breath and then loosed mana around him. This would draw the Marran’s eyes to him, he knew, and also remind him of the ways he was changing. His Glamour skill activated, and he drew his mana signature around him like a cloak, forming the identity Faynel had showed him on their first day together. It was a thing that resembled Marran enough to not turn heads, but stood out as distinct and unusual under scrutiny. Not as corrupt as his Demon glamour, not as roughshod as his natural human self.

Perhaps this wasn’t what anyone present wanted to hear, but it seemed the best solution to Mason. He began, “I first met your people through a small scouting family that should be well known to each of you. Shaywise, Treyjol, and their son, Shayjol. When I asked what your people were called, they told me that the Corrosi named you Darkest Night for your affinity for nighttime and for your skin.

“It was later explained to me that your people are actually Marran, of the planet Marra. But by that point, I had already expressed an intent to The Trials to embrace your ways, and it labelled me as a Darkest Night. You could say this was in error, but I believe that would be uncharitable. Darkest Night are those who have begun to adjust to the ways of The Trials, who fight for their people’s rights to survive, who are willing to brave danger to grow stronger.

“I don’t think any one of you have failed to question my judgments at this point, but I remain assured of my decisions, and confident that I can handle their consequences. Bazy believes in my ability to make good decisions, and I cannot think of a clearer way for her to have demonstrated that than by her letting me speak for our alliance. I thank you, Bazy,” he dipped his head a bit, and she waved gracefully.

He could see the Marrans glowering at him. Leenel and Torysen were doing more to conceal it, but even they were uncomfortable with the speech, and how long it was taking him to get to his point. He decided to go for it.

“I, with Bazy’s consent, would like to propose we form the coalition of the Darkest Night to look out for the best interests of all our people. The time for holding on to old ways and old biases is gone. Lady Sorynel, one of the greatest of your people, entrusted me with powers and teachings from Marra because I believe she, too, saw the value in this future.

“Biord, Human, or Marran- we should unify under one banner and act accordingly. If the Goblins and Corrosi can work together, can we not? If we share resources and act for the benefits of all our people as if we are a single entity…”

Manlen, always eager to battle, huffed himself up and began shouting, breathing heavy before he was more than a few words in, “What nonsense! You’ve said nothing but that you think we should abandon the history of our people. Should we treat with you Humans and Biord as if you share our history, our ideals, and our goals, even though we know nothing about you? It seems as if you just want us to hand over our secrets and our power-”

“Councilman Manlen, please take a moment to reflect,” Leenel interrupted. “How is this different from the very same goal we walked in to pursue? Though I’m loathe to take on the title of Darkest Night myself, an alliance between our three people seems obvious. We need the resources the Biord currently hold and they require our military strength to repel their enemies.”

Coltren smashed his spear against the ground, “And exactly what do either of us need from the Humans? The Demon himself is willing to abandon his people’s identity so soon, so they may very well be weaker than the Biord. We should make a simple arrangement with the Biord to defend their city for as long as the mana and accommodations they are offering justify the dangers inherent in the deal. No more, no less, and no unnecessary alliances.”

“I thought I made myself very clear. I will not allow your people within my city without an alliance with my own and the Humans,” asserted Bazy.

Manlen huffed, “And what makes them so important to you? Is there something you’re concealing from us?”

Coltren seemed emboldened by Manlen’s accusation, “Your people lack military strength. What is to stop us from marching in here with our Defense Team and…”

The room went deathly silent as Torysen rounded from her position and had her sword against Coltren’s neck. None of the Biord moved in time to intervene, and Mason let go of his own blade before anyone noticed he had gone for it.

Her voice was almost a hiss, “You will not speak out of turn again. If I hear anyone talk about waging war against a possible ally, I will cut them down myself, no matter what the council or anyone else suggests. Am I clear?”

Coltren gulped, and said nothing for fear of saying the wrong thing, so Torysen finally sheathed her sword and turned to Lady Bazy. “I have long considered myself a Darkest Night, in the very sense that young Mason speaks of. If forming an alliance of those who would survive in the Trials is truly your wish, and if you too will bear the name Darkest Night and stand alongside me, I will pledge my sword to that effort. I have no doubt my band and several of my personal allies will follow me readily.” She turned and locked eyes with Mason, but said nothing.

“You drew your sword on a fellow Marran, Captain. I should have the council strip you of your power and-” Coltren complained through heavy breaths.

“Oh shut up,” Lady Bazy interrupted. “If you didn’t hear, she’s already expressed her willingness to switch her allegiances if necessary. But I did not draw you all here to form a coup. I would like a peaceable arrangement favorable to all, if that is a possibility. You there, with the beautiful clothes and fairer face. You’ve said nothing, not even your name to me. Where do you stand?”

Eldran looked up at her and Mason realized he had somehow forgotten the noble was even there. He hadn’t taken part in the shouting match, and despite very clearly having the strength and speed to react to Torysen’s attack on Coltren, hadn’t done anything to intervene. Even now, his eyes looked cloudy as if he were deep in thought. Mason made a mental note to inquire more into this unusual character later.

“My family has long held sway on New Marra. For all of the changes in magical theory, for all of the rising and falling of cities, there has always been an El’ to weigh in on that age’s wars and politics. We are not on New Marra though, and the will of the family has not defined objectives for a scenario such as The Trials. That leaves me to rely on my family’s final directive; Protect the Family,” he spoke in a slow drawl that made even his arrhythmic speech sound like a chant.

“I witnessed the Council hole itself up and lead New Marra to destruction, and I failed to intervene. The Trials will not go away, and we have seen whole populations appear before our very feet while we tried to hide behind high walls. The family El’ will join the alliance of the Darkest Night. Protecting the Family has always meant siding with the stronger force, and the old ways will not overcome the new.

“I am Eldran, of the Family El’. I would ask to serve on the Council of the alliance of the Darkest Night, alongside you, Lady Bazy.”

“Now hold on here-” Manlen huffed, and was interrupted once more, this time by Bazy’s upraised hand.

“Mason mentioned you, and not favorably. And I am no queen to appoint members singlehandedly. We will take it under advisement, however. Mason, what are your thoughts?” Bazy asked.

The human didn’t respond immediately, but stepped down from his position on the dias to level with Eldran. There were a great many things that he didn’t understand about the noble, but there were a few that he did. Quietly, Mason addressed him face to face, “You said my people were dirty, called me a pet, and threatened me. Of course, none of this makes you special, but I want to know why you would want to serve in an alliance with more of my kind if you’ll so flippantly write us off.”

Eldran looked ready to explain, but Mason talked over him, louder now, “More importantly, I want to know what you plan to offer that makes you worthy of serving in a leadership role. You’ve said your family’s name but that means nothing to me, and nothing to Bazy, and as far as I know you didn’t even serve on the council of New Marra. If your people suggest you as a representative, we’d have to consider it thoughtfully, but if you’re merely claiming a right to it then why should we care? I just made an entire speech, and you made a similar one, about how the old ways were dead. So what do they matter?”

Eldran seethed where he stood, and it was clear his pride was hurt. That was what Mason wanted to see. How would the noble react when he wasn’t given the respect he thought he deserved? To Mason’s surprise, he took a quiet breath and his expression calmed before he replied, “My family did not serve for no reason. We receive extensive training and carry on our person’s a great deal of historical knowledge, including tactics, economics, and magics. I brought these secrets with me into The Trials.

“I had thought they were best kept to myself. The Council of New Marra wanted nothing to do with growing their strength, and power contained within high walls has a history of becoming dangerous. I did not want to see needless civil war. But if we are willing to take the fight to our enemies, then I am willing to put forth my knowledge. I offer you the secrets of the family ‘El, and will personally begin training the armed forces in the many Spell Runes I have to offer. This I do in the name of the alliance.”

“Excellent,” Mason grinned, “Then you don’t offer all your secrets in exchange for a seat of power. That’s a good first step. Lady Bazy and I will greatly appreciate your free and generous assistance, and when we are ready to settle the formalities of the alliance we’ll consider you for a seat if you have your people’s consent.”

In another surprising turn, Eldran smiled confidently at this obvious trick, and even bowed. “I remain true to my word and respect your honored opinions.” Then he moved closer to Mason and whispered quickly, “We will settle our personal differences without an audience, and you will speak poorly of me no more.”

The noble backed off quickly enough that nobody needed to respond, and Mason turned back toward his seat to hide his shock. He felt tangled in a complicated web, or for lack of a better metaphor, greatly out of his depth. What would humanity say when they discovered how he was selling them?