The Second Archon War: Sapientia Oromasdis 19 (Patreon)

Sapientia Oromasdis 19: The Morn A Thousand Roses Bring

The celebration had been going on for some time, but Bashir had retreated to a quiet corner of the orchard. Qiqi had been put to bed some time ago, and Nahida had departed as well. It did still amuse Bashir that the most powerful individual in the country was a small child, at least physically, and thus had a bedtime of 8:00pm. She’d stayed up late tonight, but that only translated to 9:00, after which she’d put herself to bed. 

For now, he sat alone under an apricot tree strung with colorful lights, listening to the sounds of music and celebration, not yet ready to rest himself. 

“Hey, this seat taken?” 

Bashir looked up, surprised to hear German. He could recognize that it wasn’t Arabic, even if whatever it was that Nahida had done this evening was still translating it for him. He nodded to Capri and Naomi Cohen, smiling. “Peace be upon you. Please, join me. I am afraid I have only water and juice to drink, but it is the new sunsettia juice Nahida made, and it is very good.”

“Juice sounds lovely, thank you,” Naomi agreed, taking a seat across from Bashir and looking curiously at Baqa. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I thought snakes were unclean to Muslims.” 

“I am no ordinary sssnake. Besssides, he doesssn’t plan on eating me,” Baqa hissed, which interestingly enough didn’t draw much of a reaction from the Tone Deaf Bards as they accepted glasses of orange hued sunsettia juice. 

“Never had snake. Is it kosher?” Capri asked her partner curiously. 

Naomi shook her head. “Ah, no, and I don’t think I’d want to eat one even if it was.”

Baqa huffed and tightened her coils around Bashir’s neck slightly. “The nerve! You know I can hear you, right?” 

“Peace, they mean no offense. Many consider all serpents to be evil, but Baqa is a special exception. A serpent is also the symbol of the physician, which I am. So a special dispensation has been given to me as Baqa was created by Nahida to treat my… condition,” Bashir explained. 

“It’sss foolish. All sssnakes are no more evil than all men are. There are a few bad applesss, you’ll never sssee me cozying up to one of those filthy conssstrictersss, but are we not also the creationsss of Allah?” Baqa huffed.

“I thought he said you were made by Nahida. That’s the story I heard,” Capri asked, sipping at her drink. “Hey, this is good stuff! Sunsettia, you said?”

“A Teyvan fruit. You have heard of that place?” Bashir asked and received nods from both women. “And yes, Baqa was made from a branch Nahida grew. The theological implications are… thorny. The Imams will be arguing over them for a century, I fear.”

“I can empathize,” Naomi sighed. “The Rabbis will be debating about Venti for a Millenia to come. Knowing him, he’d sneak in and encourage them.”

“Huh.” Capri rubbed her chin, glancing between Bashir and Naomi. “Who do you two say they are?”

“Nahida is a Righteous Djinn, sent by Allah to save and guide his people,” Bashir responded. 

Naomi nodded her agreement. “I would say the same for Venti. It’s interesting that the children of Abraham have both received guides from above.”

“An interesting way of viewing it,” Bashir said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his own drink. It had a refreshing flavor, very sweet, with a tart aftertaste that left you feeling energized. “How then do you view Raiden?”

“The Almighty Narukami Ogosho is the embodiment of the Spirit of Japan, Amaterasu herself incarnate, come to guide and protect us in our time of need.” 

Bashir nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun to find a little girl with gray hair and dark brown eyes, a hood with racoon ears, and a tail sticking out from her seat sitting beside him. From their reaction, neither Capri nor Naomi had seen Sayu come join them either. 

“Uh, hello there. I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Naomi said, putting a hand to her chest to calm herself. 

“Shinobi Sayu Nana, of the Shuumatsuban, at your service,” the girl said, standing and bowing. Closer study revealed she was older than she appeared, just rather diminutive. 

“Sneaking up on three Vision Holders. Ballsy move, kid,” Capri commented, leaning on the table towards the girl. 

“I’m not a kid! I’m fourteen! And it was hardly sneaking, you just weren’t paying much attention,” Sayu said with a wide yawn. “I was looking for somewhere to sleep, but I needed something as a pick-me-up since I’m going to be on duty all night. Clara’s still going strong, even if Ami went to bed early.”

Bashir hid a smile behind his cup, but asked, “So, you view the Raiden Shogun as divine then?”

“Obviously. What else do you call someone who can do miracles and saved their people from destruction?” Sayu asked, frowning. “I don’t get why you insist that Buer and Barbados aren’t gods.”

“I think it’s partly cultural at least. You’re from a polytheistic culture, while the rest of us are from monotheistic cultures. To us, there can be only one God, the God of Abraham, even if our interpretations differ slightly,” Naomi explained, and Bashir nodded his agreement. 

“Speak for yourselves, I’m with the kid,” Capri said, earning herself a glower from Sayu. “Venti’s not just an angel. He’s a god. One of the old pagan ones, sure, but still a god. Granted, I was never much of a Christian, I mean I was baptized and stuff. But he’s done a hell of a lot for me and Germany than anything I ever heard from a priest. Sorry, honey, but that’s what I think.”

“I’m aware,” Naomi said, giving Capri’s hand a small squeeze. “But we’ve both agreed to serve him.”

“Interesting,” Bashir mused. He tried not to think about two women being wed, as while his views tended towards the liberal, they were not that liberal. “Despite all I have seen from Nahida, I cannot fathom her being a god or God. Indeed, I see her more as my daughter, and I doubt many in Iraq will view her as anything but a djinn.”

“Well, Doc, I suppose we need to have a talk about that then.” In a flash of scarlet flame, Farasha appeared next to Bashir, plucking his cup out of his startled grasp and taking a long drink. She flashed a smile at Naomi and Capri, who had gone somewhat stonefaced. “Hey there! We got off on a bit of the wrong foot. I did some thinking, and, well, I guess I owe you an apology. Nahida’s right. It’s not like I didn’t know I was a racist bitch, I just… well, anyway even if you’re a jew and a gypsy, you’re welcome here and I’ll personally murder anyone who tells you otherwise.”

“Ah, thank you, but perhaps murder is not the best solution?” Naomi said hesitantly. 

“That just shows you haven’t tried it often enough,” Sayu said with a shrug. 

Capri chuckled. “And how many people have you killed, kid?” 

“I dunno. At some point, you just lose count,” Sayu said cheerily, which made Capri roll her eyes and Farasha laugh.

“She’s a ninja, what do you expect?” Farasha tittered, then sobered. “But take it from someone who actually has lost count of how many people they’ve killed… that’s not a good place to be. I… I wish I could ever make up for what I’ve done. If Raiden is making you kill that many people, Sayu… find a new god. Nahida’s hiring!” 

“I, um, I do remember,” Sayu said, looking embarrassed with Farasha’s unexpected sincerity. She looked down, scrubbing at her face suddenly. “I’ve killed… six. I’m not counting… not counting the monsters in Ellisburg. They were already dead. But six people. I remember their faces and names, and I was sick after each one. But it had to be done.” 

“I ain’t so sure what my body count is, but it’s about that,” Capri admitted. She gave Naomi a sad smile and drew close to her. “First one wasn’t even a fascist prick. Just a jerk in my family who tried to rape me. Stabbed the fat fuck. I knew what would happen next. I was a 16 year old girl, and I was dressed alluringly, whatever the fuck that meant. I knew I’d get blamed, so I got the fuck out.” 

Naomi teared up on hearing the story, hugging Capri tight, but Bashir could only nod grimly. He was, unfortunately, all too familiar with the concept of a young woman facing threats of rape from a family member, and being blamed for the result. 

“Well good for you! I had to burn at least one asshole before people got the impression to leave me the fuck alone,” Farasha said brightly. She turned and beamed at Bashir. “But then I found this handsome hunk, and he can have me anytime he wants!” 

Bashir blushed at that, while Naomi and Capri tittered and Sayu looked both interested and embarrassed. 

“I, uh, I’ve never kissed a boy. Or girl,” she admitted uncomfortably. 

“It’s alright. I didn’t know what I was into until I was twenty-one, and Capri was my first,” Naomi said, winking at Sayu. “Well, girl. I did have a couple of boyfriends before that.”

“I had a few girlfriends, but none of them were steady for very long, until this one came along,” Capri said with a shrug. “Take your time, kid.”

Sayu growled, and Naomi smacked Capri’s arm. “Stop it! She’s hardly a child.”

“Yeah, but she’s cute when she gets feisty,” Capri laughed. She turned back to Farasha, frowning. “Not to change the topic or anything, but what was that you were saying about Nahida, anyway?”

“Oh, that. Well, as far as I’m concerned, Nahida’s the only god worth serving. Allah never did anything for me, and I couldn’t care less about Raiden or Venti,” Farasha said with a shrug. 

Bashir’s eyes went wide, and he turned to his fiancée. “But, you said-”

“I said I’d go to prayers with you, and that I’d not drink or smoke weed anymore,” Farasha said, looking slightly guilty. “I didn’t say who I was praying to. And, well, Nahida’s sensitive. She seems to think Allah is real, so I’ll humor her. I mean, he probably is. He's just, uh, asleep or something.” 

“He sent her to us!” Bashir protested, feeling like his entire world had shaken. “She is not the Prophet, but clearly she is a message from Allah that he still watches over His people!” 

“Sure, why not? But she’s my adorable little god, and I’ll worship her,” Farasha replied. 

Still reeling, Bashir heard a gentle cough, and turned to look at Naomi. “As someone who’s in a similar boat? You can get past this. You both serve Nahida, right? Or, well, you’re her parents? I understand, well, sort of. I’m not Venti’s mother, but he does need someone to look after him at times. They’re not God, but, well, I can understand why people would honor them. It’s a difference between Capri and I, but it’s something I was willing to look past before Venti came. I hope the same is true for both of you.”

Looking back at Farasha, Bashir digested that. He had long known that Farasha was irreligious, if not openly an atheist. This was, perhaps, a step up from that. It was true that he found the idea of worshiping Nahida offensive in multiple ways, but at the same time… she had done deeds worthy of praise and adoration, deeds no mortal could have accomplished. While there was No God But Allah, and Mohamad was His Prophet… Nahida was something special. Something not seen before. 

“We will talk later. But… I can understand, will understand,” Bashir finally said. 

“You’re all weird. Obviously, there’re a lot of gods,” Sayu scoffed. 

“There’s a difference, and it lies in whether they are the One Creator of Heaven and Earth… or merely a very powerful being, given some of his Power and Authority,” Naomi explained. “It mentions in the Ketuvim that Michael was a Prince of angels, and contended with the Prince of Persia, a demon. That’s how I see Venti: he’s a Prince, but he is under the authority of the Lord, Creator of All Things.”

“A most astute way of putting things. You must be quite well educated,” Bashir said. “I don’t mean to belittle you, only that, ah, I had assumed a traveling musician was, well, less than a scholar.”

“Hey, she went to some hoity toity schools! My girl’s a smart cookie. Even if she didn’t go to Oxford,” Capri chuckled. 

Bashir nodded. “I did actually meet the Grandmaster briefly during my time there, though she was several years younger than me. Perhaps I should renew our acquaintance.”

“Oh you know Cookie?” Naomi asked, curious. 

A shit eating grin spread across Capri’s face. “Have you ever played Genius Invocation TCG?”

“Played, no. Studied…” Bashir trailed off, patting himself down, then pulled his first aid kit he carried with him everywhere. From inside, he withdrew a single card, laying it on the table. “I was fascinated to find one that bore such a resemblance to Nahida, though I am still curious about the name, Lesser Lord Kusanali.” 

“She called herself that when she did her city-wide PA thing,” Farasha said, scooping up the card. She frowned at it, then looked up at Capri. “Alright, wipe that smirk off. I can tell when someone’s playing games. You got us: what’s up?”

“They’re probably going to tell you there’s seven Archons, one for each of the elements, but that’s still classified data, so keep it to yourselves,” Sayu put in. 

Capri shrugged. “Uh, actually I was going to say Cookie stole that from Venti because it’s a weird game they play on Teyvat, but I guess that’s true too.”

“Seven…” Farasha looked at the card thoughtfully for a moment, then passed it back to Bashir. “I wonder if they’re like Nahida?”

“Well, I hope they’re not like Venti, or the world’s going to run out of booze, and we’ll never cover their bar tabs,” Capri sighed. “You’d think gods would be more responsible.”

“You’re telling me,” Sayu said with a grimace. “One of my standing orders is to ensure that Her Excellency isn’t allowed within 10 meters of any cooking appliances, especially microwaves.”

The others at the table peered at Sayu curiously, and Farasha laughed. “You’re pulling our legs!”

“The last time the Raiden Shogun was allowed to cook, eighty-three people had to be hospitalized,” Sayu said flatly. “We had to condemn an entire building. It wasn’t pretty. The place is classified as a brownfield now.”

“Surely you must be joking,” Naomi said. “Venti can be a bit of a handful, but he’s not that bad…”

“I tell you what. You offer to let the Shogun cook you breakfast sometime. I will make sure I’m at least a kilometer away, and I’ll notify your next of kin for you,” Sayu said with a shrug. Then she turned thoughtful. “Although, if we could get Maou the Golden to eat some of her cooking, that would solve a lot of our problems…”

“Well, Nahida is a very good cook, for a little kid,” Farasha sniffed. “Better than me, in fact. I mean, I’m not the world’s best cook, but I ain’t the worst either.”

Bashir maintained an utterly neutral expression, though Baqa reared up and regarded Farasha suspiciously. There were some things that were not worth dying for. “We do have to remind Nahida at times to take care of herself, but she’s a very well-behaved child, remarkably so,” Bashir coughed, trying to change the subject. 

“Huh. So, do we like, all have to make sure our gods don’t, you know, do something stupid?” Capri asked, looking a bit befuddled. 

“I fear if I left Nahida to her own devices, she would destroy herself through overwork or outright taking a bullet for another,” Bashir said ruefully. “She is still a child, 506 years old or not.” 

“Eh, she’s still a baby,” Sayu opined. “The Shogun’s like, 3000 years old or something. She told Ami a story once about the first time she saw writing, and how her sister adapted the script for the Inazuma people. I’d have said it was made up, but I’m pretty sure she’s just actually so old we hadn’t invented writing when she was first born of the Lightning’s Glow.”

Naomi nodded thoughtfully, sharing a look with Capri. “I don’t know exactly how old Venti is, he doesn’t like to be specific, but I have pieced together that he was around in the equivalent of the Ancient Era of his world, when bronze weapons were still high tech.”

“And that he did some terraforming by tossing around mountains,” Capri added, her eyes unfocusing as she gazed into the middle distance. “He once asked how people would feel if he ‘leveled off the Alps a bit.’ It’s damn near impossible to tell if he’s yanking your chain or not, but for some reason… I’m pretty sure even if he was, he could remove the Alps if he wanted. All of them.”

“Considering that Nahida just created Jurassic Park except the dinosaurs are friendly, I’d bet on Venti instead of the mountains,” Farasha agreed, smirking at the thought.

“If you’re ever wondering what the Shogun can do, just look at the Narukami Trench. Or don’t, that place is scary. Ami makes us go there to gather electrical crystals, and that’s about the only time I seriously think we’re in danger. Even Ami can’t get the Balethunder to listen to her,” Sayu said with a shudder. 

“There’s no need to compete,” Bashir chuckled. “They’re all rather remarkable beings, with a special place in our hearts. Even if they do need guidance.” He finished with a cough, then found himself short of breath, his hands trembling slightly. How long had it been since his last dose? 

Sensing his need, Baqa slithered down his arm, then bit Bashir on the wrist, prompting a cry from Sayu and the Tone Deaf Bards. 

“It’s alright, that is her purpose,” Bashir said breathily, but Farasha was looking concerned as well. 

“I think it’s time we put you to bed. I’ll get your chair,” Farasha said, standing quickly. 

“I don’t need-” Bashir began, but could only cough as she pushed him firmly back down. 

“You girls make sure he stays put, back in a flash,” Farasha said, then dissolved into butterflies that fluttered away through the trees. 

“I can heal you,” Sayu and Naomi offered at the same time, which prompted a sad smile from Bashir. 

“He doesssn’t need more healing, my venom isss enough,” Baqa said, coiling protectively about Bashir’s neck again. “He isss sssimply unwell. A product of hisss conflict with the King of Demonsss.”

“You mean… Scion,” Capri said, her eyes flicking to the sky with uncertainty. 

Bashir could only nod tiredly. “How much do you know?”

“That the only other time I’ve seen Venti as angry as when he said that Nahida had been accosted by Scion was when he first learned that our friends had been killed by the Gesellschaft. And that he both hates and fears Scion,” Naomi said quietly. 

“He is Maou, the Demon King, and our sworn foe,” Sayu said grimly. “He is the enemy of mankind, and afflicts us with his parasites. Only the Shogun can purify the souls of those who have been scourged by him. Well, and Nahida and Venti, I guess.”

“Nahida has not told me everything, but I gathered a plan to deal with him was the main thrust of their meeting tonight,” Bashir said wearily. “Whatever he is… he is a monster. The worst kind. What you spoke of earlier, Capri? He attempted the same upon my daughter.”

“Oh.” Capri’s lip curled in a snarl, her hand caressing her Vision.

“Well, I guess he needs to die then,” Naomi said simply, her expression positively murderous. 

“Look at that, me and a jew, agreeing about something! Maybe this racism stuff is bad after all,” Farasha said cheerily, reappearing pushing a wheelchair. She helped Bashir into the chair, which he sank into gratefully, then turned to the others. “Thanks for the chat! And, well, sorry for being a bit of a bitch. I’m working on that. If you ever need to fight a certain golden asshole, or some pesky Americans, just let me know. I’m not good at much, but I am pretty good at being a nightmare.”

“Farasha,” Bashir groaned, but Capri grinned and laughed. 

“From one bitch to another? Fair enough. You take care of yourself and your doctor. And that sweet little girl,” Capri said, raising her glass in salute. “And the same goes for us. Not so hot on fighting Americans, Legend’s alright at least. But Scion comes a knockin’, you call us. The Knights and the Tone Deaf Bards will be there.”

Sayu shifted uncomfortably, but stood and drew herself up to her full 152cm height. “I, um, I’m not one to make policy, but rest assured, I will tell my mistress what was said this night, and I know Princess Tsu at least is itching for a match with him. And her enemies are the Shuumatsuban’s enemies.”

“Thank you,” Bashir said, giving the girl a smile.

“Sweet, ninjas and knights! Ooo, I wonder if Nahida will let us be pirates!” Farasha laughed. “Toodles!”

It was a short trip back to the palace, though Farasha insisted on pushing Bashir herself to their room, then helping him undress before they lay down on the bed together. No love making to night, to Bashir’s regret, but he didn’t have the strength for it. 

“We’re not alone,” Farasha whispered to them as they held one another. “Kinda weird, huh?”

“What do you mean? You’re never alone,” Bashir told her.

She giggled and kissed Bashir’s cheek. “No, silly. Iraq. You know we’ve been alone for like, forever. But now… now we’ve got some friends. Even if one is a jew.”

“Farasha…” He did love this woman dearly, but it was so painful to see her ignorant prejudices and bursts of anger and violence. He knew she was better than this, deep down. 

“Oh relax. It’s just… not all of us got a fancy pants education at Oxford and learned to be all nice and multicultural. Shit, I didn’t even go to high school. I can still barely read, and I’m horrible at math. Oh shit!” Farasha sat upright, and Bashir struggled to one elbow. 

“What is it?”

“Muhammad! I never promoted him to sergeant!” she said, collapsing back on the bed. “Well, we can make him a general or something. Or at least my personal assistant. Uh, like, a captain or something. That’ll work! Now go to bed, you need your sleep.”

“That is why I love you,” Bashir laughed, giving her a squeeze. “You’re always so kind and thoughtful.”

She muttered something in reply, but he truly was exhausted, and soon drifted off to a dreamless sleep. 

It had been only three weeks since the Dawn of Hope, what people were now calling the defeat of the Simurgh and the rather brief popular uprising in Baghdad. The day was cool and clear, as hundreds of delegates from every city, town, and village arrived at the Al Zaqura Palace. They came from every ethnicity in Iraq: Arab, Kurdish, Turkish, Assyrian, and even a wizened old Jewish Rabbi from the bare handful of his people that remained in Iraq.

While most of the representatives were political leaders, there were a large number of religious leaders, Imams from both Shia and Sunni, as well as several Assyrian Christian Bishops and the aforementioned Rabbi. Also included were a majority of the staff from the University of Baghdad, as well as various other experts in a variety of fields, from engineers, to astronomers, to philosophers and grammarians. While most of the representatives were older men, there were a number of younger men as well, and a significant minority of women. 

And of course, there were the capes. Farasha was there of course, as was Doctor Bashir Saeed, and the three other Iraqi Dendro Vision Holders: Younis Amir, an Imam from a small village in northern Iraq; Dr Mohammad Anas, a professor of botany from Baghdad University; and Ghada Wafa, who had received her Vision while singing to her class in the Endbringer bunker, hand delivered by the Aranara. 

Upon seeing Mrs. Wafa, Nahida ran down the steps to hug the woman, who was dressed in her finest shawl and dress.

 “It’s so good to see you again! I’m sorry I haven’t been in school lately, I’ve been busy,” Nahida told the teacher. 

“I can imagine,” Mrs. Wafa said, kneeling down so she was at eye level with Nahida. She held out her Vision, which Nahida regarded with satisfaction. “I heard your voice in the darkness. Did you…?”

“Archons do not directly grant Visions to mortals: you earn them yourselves with your Ambitions,” Nahida told her teacher. Then she grinned and winked. “But, on occasion, we can tip the scales just a little if a particular individual catches our eye. You must be a very kind and selfless person, one who would give everything to those she guides.”

Mrs. Wafa’s eyes teared up slightly. “I… thank you, Nahida. That means a great deal to me. Will I be expected to now fight Endbringers as well?”

“Never,” Nahida said solemnly, shaking her head. “It is an Archon’s duty to safeguard their people. And while you would be welcomed in the ranks of Matra, that is, the reformed Special Action Squad, I have another place for you, should things go as I plan.”

“Wherever you need me, I shall go. You saved my family, and all my students. There is nothing I can ever do to repay that,” Mrs. Wafa said, and gave Nahida a big hug, right there on the steps of the palace. Then she stood as Nahida slipped her hand into hers, looking up at the building. “You’ve made some changes to the place, I see.”

“I find Brutalist Architecture to have its place, but I much prefer Organic myself,” Nahida said, looking up at the reimagined palace happily. 

A week ago, the Al Zaqura Palace had been a blocky concrete structure that looked a bit like an ancient ziggurat. Nahida had taken one look at the building and decided that a change was in order. She hadn’t rebuilt the palace, but instead spent several hours turning it into what was being called the New Hanging Gardens. 

Now greenery sprouted from every level of the building, and each window. Flowers of a myriad of colors made intricate designs, and tasteful vines accentuated some lines of the building while blurring others. At the top, a broad tree of a previously unknown type that Nahida labeled as a Karmaphala Tree. The result was that Al Zaqura now looked like a living mountain, transformed from an artificial blocky slab into a true work of natural art. 

Together, Mrs. Wafa and Nahida entered into the palace, catching looks from many of the delegates. Most nodded respectfully to Nahida and her escort, stepping aside and bowing to the newly recognized Dendro Archon. Others were curious or politely neutral, but a small minority scowled or muttered their outrage that a woman with her face uncovered and a little barefoot girl were allowed at a meeting of such import. 

Nahida heard all of their words, whether she was meant to or not, and tried not to let the disparaging remarks weigh her down. It hurt her more deeply than she cared to admit even to herself to hear such hateful things from her children. Not as much about herself, she still doubted she was truly worthy or ready to assume this mantle, but about Mrs. Wafa. She was a wonderful woman who not only treasured education, but put the needs of her students before herself, working long tireless hours with little funding or resources to provide the best education possible she could to the girls in her care. 

“Stand tall, Nahida. Don’t let them see you flinch. Be proud of who you are,” Mrs. Wafa said quietly, squeezing Nahida’s hand. She started, looking up at her teacher, but Mrs. Wafa had her eyes forward, a confident smile on her face as she strode forward with purpose. 

“Yes,” Nahida said, forcing herself to walk with confidence. She didn’t let go of Mrs. Wafa’s hands, and she took strength from her teacher’s strong hands. 

Even if she’d only had about an hour of class, she had learned a lot from Mrs. Wafa. 

They came now to the main chamber, which was rapidly filling with delegates. Farasha sat with her feet on the table at one of the upper benches, until Nahida shot a frown at her. With a chuckle she lowered her legs, but then leaned back in her chair so it teetered on two legs. Apparently, it would take Nahida some time to properly educate her mother on dignified comportment. 

At the highest seat stood Grandpa Ali, who smiled and came down to kiss Mrs. Wafa on both cheeks, before taking Nahida up to a stool just above and behind his seat. Nahida frowned at it, then picked up the stool and carried it down a step and set it to the right. “You’re the Interim President, Grandfather. Iraq must be led by mortals, not by me.”

“If you’re certain,” Grandpa Ali said with a dry chuckle. “I thought I got out of politics three years ago. And yet, here I am again. I was City Manager in Basra for twenty-five years, but I never saw myself becoming President.”

“You’ll do an excellent job.” Nahida pulled a sheaf of papers out of the satchel she held at her side, and passed several to her grandfather. “Here, I made a few adjustments. Specifically, I’d like to enshrine the right for education through the equivalent of highschool for all, regardless of socioeconomic status, religious affiliation, gender, or anything else we haven’t considered yet. There are some other things, but they’re not as important.”

“Hmm, and what of the restoration of the House of Wisdom you had mentioned?” Grandpa Ali asked, looking over his glasses at Nahida and raising his bushy eyebrows. 

“That is… that’s something just for me, really. I would so love to have a new repository of learning, and a place to share my knowledge on various subjects, but I felt it would be too presumptuous to enshrine in the Constitution,” Nahida said nervously, collapsing her hands together tightly. 

“Well, I can certainly make it a priority. I think we can find something in the budget for that, especially with your proposals to transform more oil fields into Dendro fields. I do notice a lack of yourself in this constitution. Will you take no role in the government?”

“No, I am of a mind with Lord Barbatos: Mortals must govern themselves,” Nahida said with a quick shake of her head. “I can advise, and I won’t hide myself as he does, but I really am still a child by the reckoning of my… kind? I don’t think species is the right word… anyway, that’s why I will be here, listening.”

And ensuring no brawls broke out. Nahida was adverse to the idea of actively mind controlling anyone, but she had decided that promoting tranquility and civility by networking everyone and sending them dreams of peace was acceptable, especially when so much was on the line. Not just the future of Iraq, but the salvation of the world itself. 

Dr. Bashir took his place next to Farasha, smiling and nodding to Nahida as he did so, and she waved happily to him, then sat quietly on her stool as the Constitutional Convention began. It would be a messy process, with spirited debate and many arguments. The issues would be thorny, and not easily resolved. But they would be resolved, with wisdom and harmony. Life would prevail, for it must. 

So Nahida sat back on her stool, eagerly listening as history was made, recording the events in her heart for when she discussed these historic days with future scholars. 

For she had taken her place as the Dendro Archon. And it was good. 

Author’s Note: 

We’re going to be heading into the next round of interludes, and then the next Archon appears. I hope you all brought cake.