Chapter 25: The Minister of Water

“That’s not fair!” I shouted indignantly. “You say that I have to pass a test to save my species, and then you tell me that there’s no way for me to pass!”

The hawk seemed annoyed by my outburst. “I’ve already given your kind enough chances as it is.”

“You call one warning enough chances?” I asked, almost forgetting that I was arguing with a creature that held my life and my family’s lives in its hands.

“Try a thousand, and multiply that by eternity,” replied the hawk. “I’ve been watching your people for a long time now ... even before you came to this galaxy. You brought your own species to the brink of extinction for the pettiest reasons imaginable. When humans first came into existence, I had hoped that they would eventually mature into a worthwhile people, but time and time again, you prove my hopes to be in vain. If I let you live, you’ll bring destruction to this galaxy, just like you did on your own world.”

Sorric was Saria’s senior by a few centuries, and that extra time in the hard life of an Elemental had done nothing for his mannerisms. Millenia of death and bloodshed had turned him into a hardened warmonger.

The rigors of battle scarred his face with multiple cuts going down his left cheek starting from his hairless head. Minister Sorric had dark skin, a tribute of his African heritage from Ancient Earth. The only thing darker than his skin was his expression. In his eyes, Saria could perceive all the horrors that this man had endured and inflicted in his line of work.

A stout man: not fat, but not lean by any means. Though not very tall, he more than made up for his stature with his massive chest and arms. In all her days, Saria had never met a more heavily built man. His only hair follicles were a mustache and goatee, and probably the hairiest chest ever beheld if he deemed appropriate to appear bare-chested.

He wore the long, blue and green regal robes of a Minister that went all the way down to the floor. A silver ring depicting a mermaid and a bear adorned his right hand, signifying his rank as the Minister of Water. Saria wore a similar golden ring with the Ministry of Fire’s symbols.

His attire spoke of a man of propriety, but Hephaestus Sorric never behaved as such. Many assumed that Water Elementals bespoke of fluidity and grace much like their element, but Sorric’s demeanor more resembled ice - cold as a blizzard and hard as a rock.

Sorric came flanked by an entourage of guards and a member of his Wielder Council. Konamay seemed more nervous than ever, no doubt feeling the effects of the sheer amount of power that just walked into the room.

“Minister Kaves, still the obnoxious little upstart biting at my heels,” said Sorric with an American accent. “I can only imagine what your predecessors think of your soft tactics. The battle becomes too much for you to bear, so instead of fighting strong like a warrior, you wish to stall for time with this farce of a peace talk. I must say that Alastar would be disappointed in you.”

In negotiation, Sorric often employed aggressive harassment as a means of putting his opponent on the defensive and thus gaining the upper hand. He was as proficient in speaking as in battle. In her younger days, Saria might’ve fallen for his bait, but the years had matured her – taking on the responsibility of Minister had matured her.

“My mentor is dead for all intents and purposes. I rule the Fire Ministry alone now without the aid of the Prime Minister. You are dealing with me. So why don’t you drop the act, and let’s get down to business.”

Sorric regarded her with his cold, dark eyes. Saria knew for a fact that Sorric wasn’t an evil man. But his hardships in life had engraved in him a somewhat paranoid nature. Many of the scars on his face were the result of multiple assassination attempts from other Ministries.

“Zanderius and I had a mutual respect for one another. We were political rivals, true, but we were first and foremost men. I didn’t understand many of his views, especially his sympathy for the Ministry of Fire, but I acknowledged him as an able leader who cared deeply for the Tarrus Empire. I cannot say that I hold the same acknowledgement for you.”

“Because I’m a woman,” accused Saria defensively.

“Now that you mention it, yes, that too,” he said with an expression close to a mischievous twinkle. “There have only been a handful of female Ministers over the millennia, and most of them proved too emotional for the post, their bonds with their Sacred Animals becoming unstable almost immediately after induction.”

Saria bit back a retort, remembering her own turbulent bond with Tava was far from stable. Well, I suppose I walked myself into that one.

“But also because in many ways, you’re still green,” he continued. “Your years may be many according to most of our people’s standards, but not that much compared to mine, and certainly not much if you take into account the number of years you’ve actually led a Ministry. I heard the details of your so-called ‘election’. You were never even supposed to be the Minister of Fire.”

Saria held back a snide comment. Snideness would get her nowhere with this man, but it was difficult to control herself when he hit on such a potent nerve. It was true, Saria had never been officially voted to the office of Fire Minister. The candidate who won the succession of the last Fire Minister, Couric Patall, was a Wielder who recently retired named Gradveil. An Half-Elven Wielder. One of the few Demihumans to ascend so far.

However, an unforeseen incident made Saria Fire Minister, even though she had no aspirations for power. She would’ve been contented to remain on the Wielder Council as one of the eldest and more powerful voices, but Tava, the Sacred Animal who endowed the Fire Minister with the powers of a Vessel, chose her instead. It might’ve resulted in conflict if Zanderius had not intervened, giving Saria his support for the better part of her reign.

“I may not have been voted into office by the traditional means,” said Saria levelly. “But I was still blessed by Tava. In the end, the Sacred Animals we bond ourselves to as Ministers are the ones who approve us leaders of our Ministries. You know that as well as I, Sorric.”

The Water Minister scoffed, turning away from her and folding his hands behind his back. Though they stood on equal grounds as Ministers, the utter disdain this man showed for her set Saria’s teeth on edge. “I am not contesting that Tava chose you. But the only thing that solidified your rule was the support of Zanderius Alastar, the Prime Minister of Elemency. A man who has since been branded a traitor to the Empire for the past five years. Without his counsel, your voice holds little weight with me.”

I doubt anything holds weight when compared to you, fathead, thought Saria fiercely, but held her tongue for the sake of peace. Sorric would only double down if she responded with too much force. However, she would not appear weak.

Choking down the bile taste that this conversation had sparked in her, Saria began slowly, but resolutely. “The Prime Minister left me ... just like he left the Empire. But I have not needed his approval to run my Ministry for many years now. I stand on my own feet. I stand as the Minister of Fire. A fact you would do well to remember.”

“And that’s another reason I don’t like you,” snapped the Water Minister as he spun around, pointing a finger at her. “You were so quick to toss him to the wolves. You, who he’d favored for years. Yet you denounced him like all the rest when Chissler crafted that cockamamie story about him killing off the royal family.”

“I personally don’t believe he killed them,” admitted Saria in a steady voice, guarding her thoughts carefully in case there was a telepath in the Water Minister’s entourage. “But that hardly matters as he disappeared before he could disprove Chissler’s allegations. As it stands, he is a fugitive, and I have nothing more to do with the man.

“But if you really admire him so much, I’d suggest you speak to me more civilly. As I remember, the Prime Minister extolled courtesy. You know, that thing that I’ve been showing you all evening without receiving a hint of it in return.” A little bit of venom seeped into Saria’s voice at that last part,

The man actually chuckled a little, walking over to the bar and pouring a drink for himself in a shot glass from a nearby bottle of whiskey. He then poured a second glass and proffered it to Saria. Her guards moved in front of her and his did the same, but Saria waved them all away as she took the glass from his hand roughly, leaning an elbow on the bar table.

“My lady, if I may,” offered one of her guardsmen named Stede as he leaned forward studying the glass.

Stede, a young Third with a round face beneath his facemask, could use the psionic ability that enhanced his senses. She always had a sensory type among her escorts as they came in handy for sniffing out all sorts of trouble before it could even come close to her.

They could also detect poison. Though unlikely as that seemed with someone as straightforward as Sorric, it was protocol to check all substances coming near the Fire Minister for foul play. That went doubly while in enemy territory.

Saria held the glass up to the Third, and he examined it closely. She would’ve expected him to give it a sniff, but sensory types didn’t necessarily use their noses, eyes, or ears to detect trouble. Sometimes, they could just know if something was wrong, as if they had a radar for potential danger in their heads that made them almost akin to those with clairvoyant abilities. Though Saria did have to consult one of those whenever she put herself in a potentially dangerous situation. After a few moments of intense staring, Stede gave Saria a nod of satisfaction, indicating the liquid was safe.

“Will that do for courtesy, my lady?” Sorric asked with a mock bow, making even the honorific of ‘my lady’ sound like an insult, though Saria ignored the quip.

“It’ll do for now,” she said as she chugged the whiskey in a single gulp while Sorric did the same with his shot glass. The stuff was vile, and she grimaced at the poor product. “But next time, get a better brand of whiskey. I’d imagine Troll piss tastes better than this swill.”

The Water Minister scoffed, setting the shot glass back on the table so hard that it cracked. “I never trusted you even when Zanderius supported you. I trust you even less since he left, and not unfounded if recent events are any indication. If he were still here to give you counsel, the Prime Minister would never have allowed you to instigate a war of this scale.

“And if that wasn’t bad enough, you have the audacity to turn tail and run to save yourself from your own sins. You spout about peace as a shield to hide from view the skeletons in your closet. Zanderius Alastar was many things, but at least he owned up to his faults.”

Saria kept her tone casual, but had to concentrate a great deal to keep her rage under control. If she let her hidden power out now, she’d destroy much more than just the barracks.

“By faults, I assume you are still under the impression that I am responsible for this war.”

“Well, aren’t you?” asked Sorric somewhat sarcastically, taking an aggressive step forward. “Or did I just imagine the news of Senator Randals losing his head at your Ministry?”

If it came to a battle between the two of them, the results could be disastrous. In fact, it had been agreed long ago that Ministers could no longer engage in open warfare because of the untold destruction they could inflict upon the universe. Sorric knew that as well as Saria did, yet she could feel his powerful psions charging, ready to respond at the slightest hint of aggression.

“I’m only going to tell you this once, Hephaestus, and whether or not you choose to believe me is entirely up to you. I did not want this war. I have nothing to gain from it.”

The Water Minister sniffed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Am I hearing that correctly? The Ministry of Fire had nothing to gain from this, hmm? Nothing to gain from a conflict that would favor you on open battlefield as you Fire Elementals have always boasted to having the strongest military of any Ministry.

“Had nothing to gain, not even the territory you still claim belongs to District 8 ... territory that would give you access to some very lucrative deals with the local sector governors. That added territory would give you more seats in the Senate, which I hear the Ministry of Fire is sorely lacking these days.”

Saria sighed, putting her hands to her hips and straightening up to her full height, which was a head above Sorric himself. “As if you had nothing to gain from this war. You’ve always envied our supply of Sun Gems. Some of our largest mines are along your borders, and you’ve coveted them for years. Really, which one of us is truly lacking resources here? Under Chissler’s regime, all Ministries find themselves having less than what they’re used to. That’s old news, Sorric!”

“But you are the ones who got desperate enough to do something about it,” he said, leveling his finger at her almost close enough to touch her face. Her guards tensed at the action, no doubt sensing his psions for any sign of attack. “Because of his hard history with your Ministry, Randals would’ve been your only opposition to attaining those seats on the Senate if you did acquire our territory. The others would’ve been thrilled to ally themselves with the most powerful of the Grand Ministries. When he died, you all but shouted your intentions to the universe.”

“I didn’t have Randals killed!” As she yelled, she pounded her fist to the table, tiny sparks igniting from her rage.

His guards tensed, leveling blue-glowing spears at Saria’s outburst, but Sorric didn’t even flinch. “And I say that’s bullshit!”

Saria almost smiled. She began to understand why Zand respected even a man like this. In his voice, Saria detected the same resolution to protect his people at all costs – a resolution that she possessed. However, that didn’t make him any less of an infuriating old fart.

“I assume that before the peace summit, you received numerous indications that the Ministry of Fire was planning to invade?”

“You could say that,” responded Sorric without masking his contempt.

“Would it surprise you to know that we received similar indications of the Water Ministry?”

Sorric let out a deep, base laugh. “And you want me to just take your word for it? Of course, the guilty party would claim as such, pinning all the blame on their adversaries!”

“And I would assume the same for you ... but not now, not anymore. I know for a fact that you never wanted this war to come to pass, and I will state as much when we have to explain things to the Imperial Court.”

That actually got a reaction, and by reaction, Sorric seemed at a loss for words for once. Saria continued. “We have both been played for fools. I was just as blind as you, so I can understand your skepticism. However, I have evidence that the one responsible for this tragedy was none other than Lord Gregory.”

“Gregory?” repeated Sorric in disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” said one of his escorts, the Wielder council member they’d been expecting judging by his robes. “More lies, more fabrications to save their own reputations in the eyes of the people.”

“It is the truth, my lord,” exclaimed Konamay suddenly.

Sorric turned to Konamay in surprise, ignoring his council member. “Konamay, as I understand it, you were the one who called for the ceasefire. Why do you side with Kaves? What evidence can she present us to change what we already know to be fact?”

“I’ve recently been informed that the Ministry of Fire has already sent an expedition to Gregory Industries,” replied Konamay.

“An expedition?” repeated the annoying Wielder behind Sorric.

“Yes,” said Konamay. “He wished to profit from our destruction by selling supplies to both sides. Soon the truth will be revealed, and you will see for yourself that Gregory is responsible for this atrocity, not Minister Kaves.”

“Oh, this is nonsense,” said the robed Wielder with as much bluster and arrogance as a politician. “Senator Randals, one of our most distinguished representatives on the Imperial Senate, was shot dead on their soil. And before that, we’ve already seen substantial evidence of the Ministry of Fire’s treachery. I refuse to stand for this mockery. Any evidence that they can give us now will be nothing but fabricated propaganda ... of that, we can be certain.”

Victor stepped beside Saria, glaring daggers at the Wielder who kept interjecting his opinion. “Take a care, Water Elemental. Last I checked, your robes indicate the rank of Wielder, not Minister. It’s not your place to berate my lady.”

The man sniffed self-importantly.

“I’m sorry,” said Saria cordially, turning to the annoying Wielder. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

Waving his robes rather dramatically, the man gave a mock smile before saying, “Wielder Council Bartholomew Dutch.”

Dutch was a fair-skinned man with green eyes and short blonde hair. He didn’t possess the militaristic build of Konamay or Sorric. This man’s body type bespoke of the pampered, soft life of a bureaucrat. Many officers in the Elemental order possessed roles that didn’t pertain to the warrior’s path.

The Ministries were communities, and communities needed people of all trades to keep things running smoothly. Though it was possible to rise to the ranks of Wielders without much battle experience, Saria herself refused to appoint anyone to her Wielder Council except hardened veterans. She spent most of her life as a soldier, and soldiers were the type of people she trusted.

Victor still stood protectively at Saria’s side, but she shooshed him back with a hand gesture. He obeyed, albeit hesitantly as he continued glaring at Dutch like he wanted nothing better than to skewer the man and roast him over a slow fire.

“Well, Mr. Dutch, am I to assume that you have taken offense to me?” Saria asked noncommittally.

“You can indeed, deceitful Flamer.”

“Careful, Dutch,” warned Sorric. “Wielder Barock speaks true. She may be from a rival Ministry, but she still holds the rank of Minister, and should be treated accordingly by her inferiors.”

Dutch only nodded slightly in response.

Perhaps a bit of a power struggle is at work here, thought Saria mildly to herself.

“I concede that you may not wish the fighting to go on any longer, but that hardly washes away the blood that is already on your hands, or the blood that you had intended to take.”

“And whose blood, pray tell, had I intended to take?”

“Don’t play coy with us, Minister. Had you been allowed to finish your work on the vaporizer device like you planned, we would be having a very different peace conference now. You would be negotiating with us for our surrender.”

“What is this infuriating man talking about?” She directed her question towards Sorric, but he remained quiet.

“Play ignorant all you want, it doesn’t change the fact that our spies intercepted a package from your Ministry. A package containing plans for a very specialized device designed to vaporize the water barrier surrounding our Ministry and rendering us defenseless in the process. We would’ve been easy pickings had we not sensed your treachery. And as for motivation, well, Minister Sorric has already made that plain.”

“What in the Caretaker’s holy name are you jabbering about? What reason do we have to invade the Water? We have been at peace for so long ... a good, prosperous peace. Do you really think we’d risk Chissler’s wrath just for the expansion of territory? Just for seats in the Senate?

“If we did want those seats, they’d be contested anyway if we won them through invasion! People have died! Yours and mine, and you have the gall to think it’s all been for the simple acquisition of territory when we have more than enough resources across the stars.

“You sad, stupid, simplistic little man!” Her head swiveled between Dutch and Sorric, making it unclear who was the target of her tirade. She felt satisfied to see Dutch flinch away ever so slightly, though Sorric’s face might’ve been a stone for all the reaction he showed. Was he studying her? Gauging her sincerity?

Konamay interceded. “I tell you again that the Fire Minister speaks the truth! I know it. I have seen it. Before the end of the battle, our own intelligence reported some strange activities coming from Gregory Industries. Please, my lord, I implore you, end this insanity so that the real villains may be brought to justice. In all the years that I have served you, have I ever led you astray?”

Sorric sighed resignedly. “No, you have not Konamay. You have distinguished yourself with honor in my eyes. However, you have been known to lead with your heart and not your head, my friend. I cannot go along with this peace without proof of Gregory’s guilt.”

“Then proof is what you’ll get, my lord,” said a voice behind Saria.

Saria turned around to see her granddaughter of all people walking through the door. “Rachel!”

Soot and dirt stained Rachel’s uniform from head to foot. She had a bandage on her shoulder and many small bandages on her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks bore faded bruises, a sign that Healing Elemency had been used on her recently.

Rachel nodded respectfully, and said, “My lady.”

For so long, Saria had to put aside her worry for her granddaughter. She had to remain strong for the good of the Ministry. But now, seeing her made Saria lose all control. She bounded to Rachel and embraced her fiercely. Saria wasn’t usually inclined to such actions, but ever since Rachel left, she hadn’t a moment of peace.