“To begin, we would obviously make whatever concessions necessary to ensure the safety and well-being of your artificers,” Argrave assured Therapont. “If they want no one on the site, they’ll get no one on the site. If they want to keep the land after the pump station is built, they can keep it.”
Therapont crossed his arms. “My opposition thus far was predicated on the idea that you already would institute these things.”
Argrave swallowed and smiled. “Then your predication was correct. I’m going to be blunt with you, Therapont. Both our nations have some degree of leverage over the other.” He leaned forth on the chair. “I very desperately need to have this pumping station built. If I don’t, ash will blot out the suns, famine will wreak the land, and we’ll endure the harshest winter imaginable. But you need spirits for dwarven metal—spirits that we have in abundance.”
“Yet you aren’t our only avenue to reach the surface.” Therapont uncrossed his arms, then jumped up to sit on the front of his desk.
“Yet our established relationship will make us the only easy access to spirits.” Anneliese held out her hand calmly. “We intimately understand your needs. Elsewhere, different nations will be dealing with tremendous turmoil as the cycle of judgment comes to a head. Even supposing they have our capability, will they maintain the same level of cooperation? And even if they would cooperate, what will they expect in return? Something equally as grand, no doubt.”
Therapont ran his hand across his beard. “If you know of this eruption, there are other ways to prevent it. You could rummage together any number of patchwork solutions. You have an abundance of magic-wielders and laborers at your disposal, and seem to have talent enough to muster an unorthodox method. Yet you insist on employing secret dwarven technology.” He looked between the two of them. “Can you see why this draws my concern? It seems unnecessary for you to surrender your leverage for this project before you attempt to solve it yourself. That is why I sense something remains unsaid.”
That Therapont was sharp enough to grasp this fact unsettled Argrave. He was hesitant to bring up their true goal—ending the cycle of judgment permanently. He thought they would think him a lunatic. It was an insane proposition as a mortal to step forth and declare that he would be the one to do what no one else had.
But then… he had connections, didn’t he?
“It’s because I’m not asking as the King of Vasquer. I’m asking as a member of the Blackgard Union, a coalition of divine and mortal forces,” he said. “To tell you honestly, we believe that Gerechtigkeit has something stored down in the magma beneath Vysenn of vital importance.”
Therapont stared for a few moments, then laughed. “A relic of the ancient calamity? Even if that is true, why would my people aid you in acquiring such an evil, foul thing? All of what Gerechtigkeit is, what he does, manifests solely as destruction and death. You would ask my people to aid in you finding such a thing? Do your people not have tales of mortals overstepping their boundaries, damning them and all their allies to misery?”
Argrave hesitated for a moment. If he used his authority as a member of the Blackgard Union and requested the deities vouch for his plan, he would need to involve the gods in their quest to end the cycle of judgment. That harkened back to what Dario said. Dario wasn’t solely worried about Argrave finding the truth about Gerechtigkeit—he was worried about those like the Alchemist finding it. If Argrave involved the gods, could he trust them not to exploit whatever it was they found in Sandelabara? It was a question nuanced enough to make Argrave’s head cave in.
“We’ve been searching for the key to what keeps him alive,” Argrave said, remaining on the subject while not calling upon their godly allies. “And we believe we can find it down there. Ending all of this—the tyranny of the divine every millennium, the wide-spread destruction—is that not something worth fighting for? Does that not open your people to move beyond Mundi, to spread your roots to the whole world?”
“Lunacy,” Therapont shook his head. “Conjecture and lunacy.”
“This is no conjecture,” Anneliese shook her head. “I could take you through all of what we have learned. Every step taken, every word exchanged, can prove it all to be a true lead.”
Therapont stared at her. “Perhaps I misspoke. I don’t doubt that you believe what you say. When two people disagree, it’s not often because one is unreasonable and the other reasonable. It’s because both sides of the argument have merit and strong, logical points supporting them. I know Argrave has a sharp mind, and given the deference he shows to your opinion, miss Anneliese, there must be something of that edge in you.” He stopping sitting on the desk, and walked behind it once more until he sat at his chair. “There is doubtless compelling work behind this path you’ve taken. But it’s a needless risk to many hundreds of people, and I see no need to tolerate it.”
Argrave kept a steady gaze, but leaned back in the too-small chair as though relaxing. “I do find that people tend to become more risk-averse as they get older. I’m almost a little sad to see it’s afflicting you, too.”
Therapont looked as though it was a strange suggestion. “It wouldn’t be me who’d have to deal with the consequences. It’s the generations after me. Should you turn on us, seize our technology, enslave our artificers, that would have disastrous consequences for future generations, not me. At worst I’d be disgraced vouching for you.”
Argrave leaned back in, placing one hand on the desk. “But right now, you have overqualified journeymen squatting in an abandoned district because they want change, Therapont. The younger generation is not happy with the current state of affairs. And you have the opportunity to give them what they want.”
Therapont raised his hand, looking miffed. “Don’t act as though you have a grasp over dwarven politics after a day or two traipsing about the city.”
Despite his words, Argrave looked to Anneliese. She gave him a nod, indicating that he should continue, and Argrave focused back on Therapont. “But you know I’m right, don’t you? People have been maintaining Alexander’s status quo for many millennia, Therapont. They’ve abided by his words like he was a deity, even as time has proven that changes need to be made. You can be the driving force behind true change in the senate. You can fix the antiquated system of the guilds, and provide us with able talent in one fell swoop.”
“Do you think that because they’re journeymen, they’d be less valuable were they lost?” Therapont questioned drolly. “I think you rather missed my point.”
“And do you think that if we only accepted volunteers, we’d return to the surface without anyone to help? I guarantee the dwarves will be willing.” Argrave tapped the desk. “You have thousands of professionals held back by the old system of guilds. Do you think that, if I explained things clearly, offered to pay and support them, we wouldn’t have people lining up to help us? Don’t you think it’s your duty to at least give them that opportunity?”
“They might not understand the risks to safety as well as we senators do,” Therapont dismissed with a shake of his head.
“I think that you’re very wrong,” Argrave disagreed. “Your people are very unified—you’re right. They know the dangers of everything beyond Mundi, and they understand full well how the magma moat protects them. The journeymen would understand more than most. But even now, you have people choosing to live outside it, despite the risks, because they hope for change.” Argrave tapped his chest. “Do you think I can’t recognize a desire for change when I see it, being who I am, having done what I’ve done? It’s all people are talking about. From my dwarven guards, all the way down to you yourself.”
Therapont did hesitate for a few moments. “So, you’d want… journeyman volunteers? Not true masters?”
“Yes. That’s all I dare ask for. Explain to them the risks, and I’ll pitch to them the idea,” Argrave explained with a low voice. “But facilitate true change, and you could harness the zeitgeist of your people for progress both within Mundi and without it. You would be remembered.”
“Remembered as the one responsible for leaking dwarven secrets to the surface?”
Anneliese nodded. “That is the risk. But Argrave and I came here, with little escort, because we believe strongly in these ideas. Our risk was not only our lives, but that our nations be left without a leader. We took on that risk with open eyes. Can that be returned?”
Therapont reached into his desk drawer, then pulled out a small notebook. He flipped it open, grasped the page, then tore it out. He crumpled it up into his hand and threw it off to the side of the room. “It’s not me you have to convince alone, you realize. It’s the entire senate. And all will think as I do.”
Argrave studied the tossed paper. “What was that?”
“My plans for the day,” Therapont said. “I’ve cancelled them. You will, too, if you want my help. Let it not be said I don’t do my background work. This lead of yours—if you want my help, then you must explain exactly how you connected it to Gerechtigkeit. And then, gods forbid it’s convincing, we take it before the senate… and argue like our lives depend on it.”
Argrave smiled broadly. “Therapont—I think you’re going to learn precisely how empowering it is to have all the people at your back.”
