More faceless existed here than expected—an understandable thing considering how impossible it was to 'grasp' the identity of everyone within such crowds. Within Oraven's memories, likely only the most important enjoyed total recollection. Here, he existed as an outside observer. It was a notable occurrence, and despite his actions within the dream, most events unfolded as they would have regardless.
What he was was a watcher. So he did just that. Few eyes paid attention to him. A logical outcome, considering he was nothing but a mere Attendant. Many such existed here, from other scientists who were invited to the ball.
He heard their whispers—complex sentences thrown about often to gauge the intellect of the other, usually not for mockery purposes, but to tailor future conversations to that level. He leaned on the railings of the fence, staring down. Este, as it were, conversed with a man.
A scientist based on what he could make out. "I hear, in no time, you have created an idea worthy of the highest fa'n," said the male.
Este giggled—so banal. "The wisdom of Oravien must run deep in me."
"Please, save the modesty," the man said. "Only lesser creatures would attribute greatness to some consequence of the divine."
"Except that often plays a great role."
"Only in symbolic matters."
Este smiled. "Dear, all matters are symbolic."
There was a pause in their actions before the man reached out to the side, a glass cup floating into his grasp. He sipped whilst staring at her. "You make a good point," he said. "Hmm, does that mean you have an intention of releasing the files of your last work?"
"I have no reason to," Este said with restrained annoyance. "It would make your tech more accessible."
"Changeable." Este corrected.
"Optimizable," the man rebutted. "Your anti-field requires excessive energy and batteries just to maintain it. However, a widespread understanding of it inevitably creates other minds to ponder ways to correct that error."
Este frowned. "At the cost of its effectiveness."
"Bootless," the man said. "A little price."
She exhaled at this, both shoulders relaxing. "Forgive me, but I don't like men who base their work on rebuilding the ideas of others. That, you see, reeks of indolence." Now the frown creased on the male's face, his tongue clicking.
"If you say so," his tone was restricted to hide the harmed pride. Este was now off to others. Much of the same conversation was passed amongst them: scientists desiring ways to gain access to the knowledge of the Anti-field. Strange. Merrin, himself, enjoyed a vaguer understanding of it, but that was enough if he so desired to act upon it. It would, of course, require tremendous work, but it was attainable nonetheless.
It could prove to be a spectacular boon.
Then there was a chime, Merrin trembling for a moment. The sound... it echoed like that of a bell—bad memories. A moment passed as he suppressed the cold bumps across his skin, took in a breath of the chill, cast-freshened air, and observed a man standing in the center of the room.
What?
Below stood a tall figure, backed by two others. Elegant and imposing in that authoritarian manner. And that was the end of the visual input, at least regarding their bodily form.
Observable,
What stood there was a humanoid mass of amorphous darkness. Man-shaped, yes, but the contents, as he saw it, moved, swarmed, and arched in squares and circles, almost as though they could not be known, seen, pried, understood, or grasped.
Alien!
Symbols!
The word reverberated in his thoughts. Symbols, yes. Vast, powerful symbols that could not be grasped by either his mind or Este's, thus the strange form that manifested within the dream.
He gaped at the phenomenon. Whoever these men were, they were incredibly powerful—so much so that despite having no true existence in the dream, their nature remained potent within it.
Living symbols! And yet, none within the crowd seemed to react to the oddity. Who were they? The centered one spoke in a booming tone. "I, Favnir, Highlord of the Council, greet you all."
"AND WE GREET YOU!" The crowd resounded in response.
"I congratulate you all on your actions in the expansion and greatness of the firstborns." His tonality carried a sense of detachment: a cold, calculating nature. "Today, this ball was hosted by Este, Kandorian, and Scientist of the Highest Fa'n." His arm seemed to move, unsure, but the glass held by it pointed at Este, who bowed in response.
"She has invited us to the reveal of yet another great work. We accept this with understanding and a smile. These are trying times. The humans have scattered to the ends of Eastos and beyond. They have rebelled, just as the Dragons led by Nargon had once done. They have stolen from us: The Integument. So with this invention, we smile once again."
There was a hum through the room—reverberating, trembling through the very walls. Este stepped forward, took a sphere from her clothes, and tossed it into the air. It expanded, opening up into massive, swirling rings, intertwining and arching within others. Mesmerizing, almost like some chaotic dance.
Merrin stared for an instant and abruptly heard the collective gasps of the observers. All eyes were locked on her. Somehow, they read information from the wheels.
By the Almighty, how do they do that? He considered, intently regarding the whirling wheels and half-circles.
One spoke abruptly from the crowd. "What is this, Este?" There was rage in the words. "Do you plan on giving humans yet more weapons?"
"What?" Este whirled, disgust painted on her features.
"This... this is an Armor," one said. "Humans would inevitably build upon this and require more means to resist us. Is that your plan?"
Este uttered, "How dare you say such things? This is meant for the Orvalen to use against the human rebellions. This is to be a weapon against Mordrask and his Men."
"Yet it can be so easily rebuilt…Taken apart and controlled."
"Not when it can repair itself," Este said.
"Yes," one added. "A link that can be easily manipulated to gain access to the source. Think about the force reservoir that can be acquired by anyone who exploits that link."
Este shouted. "BUT HUMANS DON'T KNOW FORCE CAN BE GIVEN FROM AN EXTERNAL SOURCE!"
"But you risk it."
Este fidgeted with her fingers. "I risk nothing..."
"Then do you intend on releasing the files to have others make the necessary corrections?"
"NO!" Este screamed. "This is mine. MINE!"
Suddenly, Favnir, the Highlord hidden within an inchoate form, said, "Then your project is officially banned by the Council!"
And then there was the stiffening silence. All eyes locked rigidly toward Este. Oddly, she seemed a figure rooted in the center stage. All attention on her. Anyone would crumble under such pressure. But Este... Merrin saw it. She smiled. "Seriously?" It was an impetuous grin. "I am Kandorian. You have no right to stop what I make or cannot make."
"You are not in Elmaran."
Her eyes were wide. "I will do what I want!" Finality in tone. "You cannot stop it."
Favnir took a step, feet sauntering over the cold floors. Merrin guessed at least--no legs could be seen.
"Do you rebel against the Council? Do you intend now to scatter as the humans had done? As the Archmen, as the Dragons had done?"
Este frowned. "How can you ask me that?" The world trembled, lines drawing across the vast pillars, dust drifting off the carved angles. "Humans in their frenetic actions caused the death of my sister. Why would I follow in such footsteps? That's the definition of madness."
Favnir toned. "This has nothing to do with your emotions. No. The facts are present."
Este laughed. "Yes... facts. Casters and their answers." She looked up, regarding the circled crowd. "You will not stop me from building this! None of you!"
The horde went silent—a suffocating harbinger of conflict.
"Excuse me?" said Favnir. And Merrin was before them, standing between the amorphous form and the slender Este. Both were barely at his total height—an odd experience.
He wore a smile, dusted off the imaginary dust, and said, "Egotistical Conflict is a thing of the human race." He observed the nebulous man and the effect the words had on the rest. "You are greater than that, are you not?"
Silence.
He continued. "With all these minds here—minds far beyond the limits of Normalcy." He paused. "Human Normalcy—and none of you. None can see the workaround?"
More silence. Good... There was a certain equality that existed in the Orvalen Society—an amazing trait. Humans had their brightCrowns and darkCrown division. Here, he could simply speak without such restriction.
An excellent piece of governance.
Again, he wondered how such people were unknown. But that was a question for another day. For now, Merrin heaved a breath and said,
"Why not reduce the bracket for such complications?"
Murmurs churned the crowd—words and notions passed between one and another.
Stir them more!
"Think of the problems. Questions, yes. Often, the questions are more important than the answers. Wonder now about what this issue presents. From there, inevitably, answers would be presented."
"Without the files, that's impossible," one replied from the crowd.
Merrin whirled. "That's something a human would say." They winced. "Define the Question. The issue, as it presents itself, is a matter of security. The inherent nature of man is the vileness within, and the ingenuity that always creates a risk of an armor being replicated. But not always, is it?"
One echoed. "Not if certain preventive measures were created against the specifics!"
Merrin smiled. "It can be better. Can it not?" Give them more questions.
"What exactly are you proposing?" asked Favnir.