"Hey, wait a minute, what's going on here?" Armin blurted, his voice cracking slightly in the childlike timbre that still felt foreign to him. "I have so many questions!" The words tumbled out, driven by the frustration that had been building since his awakening in that cursed dome—questions about his body, this world, the father he never knew, and the dangers that seemed to lurk around the federation.
"And we'll answer all of them from now on to the best of our ability", Vors rumbled.
Armin turned to Veyr, his gaze narrowing with a spark of betrayal, "So, what's the secret? Did you lie to me and were the one who sent me to that so-called 'healer'?" The memory of the underground lake surged back unbidden: the water's icy grip, the monstrous form below with its unblinking eyes and gaping maw, the endless torment still echoing in his skull.
"What? No, where did you get that idea?"
"Because apparently you insisted that it's not safe for the chancellors to meet me", Armin pressed.
"Let me explain it to you," Veyr said, his voice softening as he leaned against the chamber's central table. "Though I should probably start from the beginning. That might answer a lot of your questions." He paused, glancing at the chancellors, receiving a nod of approval.
"I have many indeed", Armin admitted, sinking back into his chair.
"I'll try to keep it brief, but feel free to ask anything you're curious about."
"Got it"
Veyr took a deep breath, his eyes distant as he delved into the tale. "Many decades ago, I met your father for the first time just after he had escaped the Holy Empire. We quickly became friends and I taught him about the continent Vudras, the tribes residing on it and the general state of our World. He had been born in the Empire and basically knew nothing."
"He was born in the Empire?"
"Well, technically he was accidently created by the Empire. They have always kept that a secret, and wanted to sweep this under the rug as soon as possible, but your father was stronger than they had expected and was able to flee all the way here."
Veyr went on, "Those were also the times of the purges", his expression darkening, the lines on his face deepening like scars from old wounds. "Led by the Empire, the humans tried to eradicate all non-humans. Each tribe was like a country of their own back then and there was not a lot of cooperation between them. Most of them were completely wiped off the map. Communication magic wasn't well developed yet and most news travelled through merchants. Many also didn't believe the stories—why would the humans come and wage war when they had never interacted with each other before? They only started believing when the soldiers were at their doorstep.
Anyways, me and Syn split up. I had to help my tribe relocate and hide, while Syn was driven by a pure hatred for the Empire and went to fight on the different front lines. After many lost battles Syn realized that without unity, there was no hope. And that is what happened. While the human armies swept through the continent, Syn was busy uniting the survivors and recruiting tribes. This is where we met up again. My tribe specialized in camouflage and illusions and it became the foundation of our strategy. There was no winning against the humans and so we hid and founded the tribal federation when they left. Since then our focus has been to stay hidden from the humans and because of that I eventually became minister of defense." Veyr's voice carried a note of pride, but it was tempered by the exhaustion of endless vigilance.
"You are the defense minister??" Armin echoed, his eyes widening in genuine surprise. The kindly tutor, the nurturing elder who'd patiently taught him words and history, now revealed as a key architect of the Federation's security. "Why were you acting as my butler?"
"Don't worry, we'll get to that."
"He is not only Minister of Defense", Elyx chimed in.
"Hey, I'll get there", Veyr retorted lightly, his grandfatherly fondness of passing down tales to the new generations shining through.
"Where were we? Ah yes, the founding of the federation." He steered the conversation back, "To reorganize the different tribes under one banner, the council was established. Each council member represents and reigns over a part of the population, divided into different categories. For example, as Elyx just hinted at, I am not only the Minister of Defense, but also a council member for The Shadow Weavers, which consists of illusion or stealth based races."
Armin nodded, visualizing the council chamber from his earlier judgment, "But where were you during my first time before the council?"
"I sent someone to represent me, so there was as little chance of you realizing something as possible, but let's continue the story.
The federation rebuild, now united, under Syn's leadership. The humans had left and returned to their own continent Orubon to the north of Vudras. In the decades that followed Syn delved deeper into the research of creating more of his kin and Vorsmelk and Elyxyn were created." The chancellors exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of their debt to Syn—a creator who had given them sentience, purpose, and power. "Eventually the two of us went on a mission to steal research from the Empire, during which we created a lot of chaos in the human domains. I think after that is when his wrath against the Empire started subsiding and he started wholly focusing on creating a son. That research we stole was his foundation on what in the end became you. But the process was difficult. The concepts and power he needed to make a true son were incomprehensible, and therefore he borrowed the power of the arcane void."
"Surely you have seen the giant desert that makes up the northern half of our continent on maps?" Veyr asked, gesturing vaguely as if conjuring the image.
"Yeah, what about it? ", Armin replied, recalling the crude maps Veyr had shown him during lessons—vast sands that the tribes avoided.
"Beneath the desert lies the arcane void," Veyr explained, his eyes gleaming with a mix of awe and caution. "There are different myths and legends regarding its creation, but the important part is that it's an unstable realm of highly concentrated mana, a place where reality frays, where all kinds of horrors roam, and in the absence of any logic or limitation, all kinds of fantastical things have been observed."
"While this allowed Syn to achieve results beyond comprehension, it also put into question what you are. You could have been a Voidspawn, acting on its whims or your mind could have been deranged by it. And that is what I had to confirm or disprove as the minister of defense. Were you just hiding your power or maybe on a mission from the void that escaped our understanding? Those were real possibilities. You see, if the void is one thing, it's unpredictable. What if you could infect the minds of others? Or something else that we couldn't even imagine yet? After observing you for a while I was convinced your mind was touched by the void in some way but didn't present a threat. That wasn't enough though, everybody on the council had to be convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt and as per advice from the Voidsingers who are most familiar with such matters, that meant bringing you to the brink of death to draw out any hidden intentions"
"So that's why you brought me to the healer," Armin said, the pieces clicking into place with a bitter clarity.
"There were several reasons for that, but essentially yes", Veyr confirmed, "So now you know why you couldn't meet the chancellors before, why I observed you disguised, why you went through what you went through as well as a little bit of history."
"That's a lot to take in," Armin sighed, leaning back in the chair. He felt a strange kinship with Syn—a being born of accident, driven to forge his own legacy—mirroring Armin's own displacement from Earth. 'Although, based on what they said, who knows if my memories are real or whether the void just implanted them…. on the other hand they seem so real to me, but they wouldn't be good fake memories, if they didn't. I really gotta start implementing some technology to sort out whether my knowledge is real.'
"I tried to keep it brief because, as we mentioned earlier, we need to prepare you for the upcoming council meeting."
"What's it about?" Armin asked, straightening up, sensing urgency.
Vorsmelk took over, his deep voice commanding attention, "It's about the federation's future governing structure. With Syn's death the throne is empty, but there are troubling times ahead. The humans have started expanding to our continent and started colonizing the east coast. They haven't discovered us yet, but it may just be a question of time. For the council and us the question is how we should adapt. The options are to continue like this with two chancellors at the helm, to wait for you to ascend to the throne, to elect someone from the council to ascend the throne or to reorganize the government in a completely different way."
Elyx continued seamlessly, "In this meeting you'll have to present your case and convince the council to crown you king. We as Chancellors are supposed to stay neutral unless there is a tie. But Veyr will be on your side, so you only have to convince 5 more."
"Why didn't you inform me earlier so I could prepare?" Armin cut in.
"Some council members would prefer to rule themselves," Elyx explained, her tone laced with disdain for such ambition, "so they pushed to have this discussed immediately. Giving you less time increases their likelihood of winning. On the plus side, they don't know yet that you are fully fluent and only expect Veyr to argue in your favor."
"What happens if I don't win?"
"Realistically, the most likely outcome is that the resolution will be passed to periodically crown a council member. For you this would mean that you essentially become just a normal member of the federation. Since clans dominate the hierarchies of each council group, and you don't belong to any of them, it'll be practically impossible to regain the throne. Technically, there are The Independents, whose structure is more loose, but even if you were to become their representative—which is highly unlikely—they are the weakest faction, making it again, practically impossible to regain your throne."
"So this is my only shot", Armin murmured, pacing a few steps on the polished heartwood floor, the cool surface grounding him amid the whirlwind of revelations. The balcony breeze stirred the air, carrying faint echoes of the city below—distant chants from rune-lit altars, the creak of vine bridges swaying under the weight of feathered merchants.
A few seconds passed in silence, then Vorsmelk addressed Armin in a serious tone, "Listen kid, all three of us were very close to Syn and owe him everything. We truly want to see you continue his legacy. Veyrith has already told you he suspects your mind has been touched by the void—be honest with us, so we can help you best. What blessings has the void bestowed upon you?"