“Truly worthy of praise is the one who knows their role and is content with it, for such is the path of peace.”

-Sayings of Zhiren

244 YT, Winter: Karzakh Province, Gaurlante

“All of you know well that one’s humble beginnings do not forever keep one from greatness.” Zhiren, High Priest of Gaurlante, next in line to inherit the throne of the Invictan Empire and the spirit of Aivor, stood atop the small dais, looking out at the crowd before him. Here in the provinces it was hard to assemble a crowd like he was used to in Kurikuneku, but there was a certain charm to speaking in this setting, Zhiren had to admit. The people were less enthusiastic, yes, but their engagement with him felt more honest. They opened their hearts to him, and he gave each one the greatest opportunity of their lives: to learn from him for the first time.

“My father, the last of the divine, will one day soon bring about an age of peace and unity,” Zhiren said, looking over the crowd. They were all listening intently now, though they knew the broad strokes of the message. Sure, they were Invictans, and sure, they were Gaurl – loyal, all of them – but who here in the furthest corner of Karzakh Province, could say that they had heard the High Priest Zhiren himself speak before the crowd? “So there is no need,” Zhiren continued, “for struggle today. External struggles are meaningless for you if they are only a preamble to the great struggle that is commencing, the struggle which will end when all are freed from divisions and from blindness.”

The crowd was now nodding along to the words he said, and Zhiren smiled inwardly. They were listening, they were wise. “I, myself, came when I was young from these provinces, and many in the Core said that I would not amount to much. But those were misguided fools, you understand. I did not concern myself with them, I did not struggle against them – rather I struggled against myself. They believed I could not be great, so I became great. And I grew close to Aivor himself, and helped to bring about this Invictan Empire in which we now stand today.”

He held out his hands, an expansive gesture, and he smiled. “And isn’t it grand, then? How beautiful are these lands, and how much more beautiful with the safety of an outstretched wing – the Empire, the Empire’s peace!” Zhiren did not say claim primary responsibility for the birth of the Invictan Empire – he did not need to. It was well enough that he alluded to the Empire’s founding, that he established himself as a force in its creation. Everyone here knew, by the time he arrived, who he was. If they hadn’t heard of him before, the rumors of his arrival would make them aware.

“Once, when I was young, these provinces were not so safe! Others walked this land who did not love you as you love one another – the Palunim, the Drisi, the Abrists, the Angelists who love a divided world.” At the mention of each of these, a boo ran through the crowd. “And even those of the Core who sought to exploit these provinces for their own individual gain, what did you do with them?”

“Drove them away!” shouted the crowd.

“Indeed, you struggled. And it was a good struggle. But you do not need to struggle anymore, my friends – because, as I said, soon there will be peace and unity.” Zhiren smiled. “Those who love a divided world, who deny the divinity among us, who sow chaos and mutual hatred among people… they will soon see the error of their ways. This I promise to you, a new world free of fear!”

“No more fear!” The chant went up just as planned. Zhiren’s plants in the crowd reacted exactly on cue, so that the rise of the chant felt natural. First it was one person, then it was another, and before the last of the plants had even begun to chant most of the crowd was chanting along with them. “No more fear!”

“Remain here in peace, all of you, and do not fear, for that is your only duty today. You’ll endure, forever, even when the cursed Veil, that which divides the world, is destroyed and the age of peace and unity is achieved!”

Zhiren closed his eyes and let the adoring shouts of the crowd wash over him as he stepped from the dais and rejoined his retinue. Those shouts would echo in his ears for many nights after. The provinces, Zhiren assured himself, were well and truly saved – and neither Mirshal nor Adma could prevent Zhiren’s dream. No, the People – even the very lan