Chapter 28 – Factoring out the Unknowns
Penelope took the municipal gate from Frontgate to Irontree, and the mage on duty at the Scioni Academy of Magic kindly teleported her to the small military post at the archaeological digs near Winter's palace.
The guard there greeted her familiarly. Usually she arrived with a gaggle of students and work orders for them to be digging or restoring part of the extensive ruins. So her arrival when school was closed was unusual. But they were already preoccupied with the little news they had of the conflict going on down south. She stopped long enough to borrow some water environment magic and moved out into the night.
Swimming was not a skill Penelope had mastered. It wasn't generally done much in the Underground as it was generally thought to be unhealthy. With her supervision of the work on the Triton ruins, she had gained some familiarity with moving about underwater. But sustained swimming was still awkward for her. She resigned herself to walking across the sea floor.
Above the waves the sun was rising. The light filtered down and began to etch the outlines of the rambling buildings that made up the palace of Atlantica and its surrounds. She reflected as she walked that it would not be long before this palace, too, was a ruin. Its primary building period was long past and precious little maintenance had been done of late. It occurred to her to sketch a plan of what state it would be in after another couple of hundred years. It would make an interesting reconstruction assignment for her class. To take the familiar, render it unfamiliar, and see who worked it out.
But, then, if what the dark goddess said was true, the building might be spared that fate. Winter had a healthy respect for the material record, and should he truly come into divine powers, Penelope could see him restoring, or even extending the palace.
By and large, though, Penelope was not impressed with the architecture arising from the new magic. It was too cheap. Too easy. You could make structures that were grandiose in scale, but lack true grandeur. The Scioni Academy of Magic, built to be a bastion of learning and knowledge, had all the majesty of a shack that had been expanded to giant size. In fifty years it would be a hated example of the new wave of building.
If they had another fifty years. That was well beyond what Penelope expected to live. Orcs did not live long, her grandmother notwithstanding. She could see the new magic stretching her. Drawing out her life. Penelope was grateful for it. She loved her grandmother dearly. But it made her thin.
But that might be no matter if the current crisis was as much of a threat as Nocturne believed it to be. Penelope was quite unsettled by it all. She was a student of history. Usually so ancient as to be completely abstract. The nuances of decisions and events could be considered and argued from what evidence there was. There was no immediacy to it. And it wasn't personal. She never asked to partake of history. She knew the scrutiny to which actions were put and didn't want any part of that. Yet here she was.
Her presence was noted as she moved into the town proper. She was well known here, both for her unusual looks and as a repeat visitor. Several Tritons called out to her by name, and offered to help with anything she needed. They gave her nearly as much credit as Winter for the dignity and respect that had been restored to them by acknowledging the worth of their past accomplishments.
Penelope, following after her grandmother, was used to motivating her students through a mixture of terror and fear. Her encyclopedic knowledge of history more ancient than their species won their respect even as the lessons were hated. And though she had scant knowledge of Triton history, these people loved and lauded her for just being interested in it. She wasn't quite sure how to react to that, or even if she should.
At the palace one of the handmaidens who met her was a pupil of hers. Such was her enthusiasm that she assumed Penelope had come to give them make-up lessons while the school was not in session. And the creature was even disappointed when she found out that was not the case! Penelope felt quite emotional about it. Which was even more unsettling.
Penelope was brought to a waiting room. It was explained that Winter was still about the lands, reviewing his subjects and settling disputes. But that Cindarina was looking after his affairs while he was out and would be with her shortly.
That was turn of bad luck, thought Penelope. She would rather have spoken to Winter directly. But since he was nearly inseparable from Cindarina, it would probably be just as well. She was quite a sensible girl. Winter's passion for history was wild and exuberant. Cindarina's was much more focused. While Winter easily grasped the tactical and economic considerations that guided the flow of history, Cindarina was the one who understood the motives and aspirations of cultures. She seldom drew analogies with the modern cultures she was familiar with, but Penelope saw her making the associations in her eyes. Winter was genuinely interested in the science of history. Cindarina sought its practical applications.
“I'm sorry you were kept standing”, said Cindarina, approaching Penelope from a side room. “It is easy for us to forget the surface culture's norms.”
“It is no matter”, said Penelope. “We are not on the surface. We are in the Underwater. It is your norms we should abide by.” She bowed formally, Triton fashion.
“I hope your desire to see Winter is not urgent. We are not sure precisely when he will be back.” There was a trace of uncertainty in her voice.
Penelope glanced to the right and left, and noted the handmaidens at their stations along the edge of the rooms. “I'm sure, since the Surge of the Ocean saw fit to appoint you to see to his affairs, that it would be just as well for me to deliver my message to you. I, myself, do not know the full import of the message. But since it may involve affairs of state, may we discuss it in private?”
“You flatter me with confidence”, said Cindarina. “I myself am not so self-assured. And, equally, I will be but a messenger and not the best one to judge confidentiality. You are wise to suggest caution as due prudence.” She turned to a handmaiden. “We will retire to the roofed room in the private quarters. I will entrust you with the duties of the court for the duration.” The handmaiden bowed, clearly delighted with the honor.
Cindarina beckoned Penelope forward, and lead her into the private portion of the palace. “This room is getting a lot more use, of late, then I would have expected”, she said as they entered the magically sealed room and she closed the door behind her. “At least there are chairs in here”, she gestured towards a few simple chairs in the corner. “If it would make you more comfortable, I can replace the water with air. I have magic to assist me so it is no burden.”
Penelope took a chair. “Yes, I am a bit unsettled. That might help.” Cindarina nodded and pressed some glyphs near the door.
“I take it, then, this is urgent?” asked Cindarina. “I do not think I have ever known you to be unsettled.”
“Yes”, said Penelope flatly. “I am no diplomat. I am unskilled at mincing words. I am told that Winter is in grave danger.”
“Who has sent this message?” asked Cindarina, concerned. “Is it from his mother?”
Penelope smiled. “Ah, my student. Checking the sources. The first question you should always ask.” Then she resumed being serious. “No. A... god... manifested herself to me. I'm not sure which. She said of 'darkness and secrets', or something like that. Clearly not affiliated with Atlantica. I tell you in confidence as she did not seem to want her identity revealed.”
“I do understand that relations between the surviving gods and those loyal to Romitu are complicated and discretion is required”, said Cindarina.
“You probably understand more than me”, said Penelope. “And I hope you understand better than I the mechanisms of divine rule, as this is what is involved.”
“I cannot promise I do”, said Cindarina. “But I can try to make sense of what you cannot.”
Penelope breathed deeply and composed herself. “In taking up Atlantica's mantle, Winter has, apparently, taken on some of the aspects of godhood previously enjoyed by Atla
ntica. I am unaware of the specifics, but apparently the people's faith in him, in his position, conveys to him the ability to grant their wishes.”
Cindarina nodded. “That would explain much. He has not seen it himself, but he has become much more facile in the nuance of relations in the Underwater.”
“In being such a conductor for the will of the people, he becomes an expression of their wishes, not just the enactor of them”, said Penelope. Cindarina leaned forward intently. “This bit confuses me too. But I think the way she explained it, the desires of the people mold the god into what they want.”
“So”, said Cindarina slowly, “Winter is likely to become more like Atlantica.”
“To some degree”, said Penelope. “Although as there has been a shift in the relative power balance, I expect he will reflect that.”
“But it was Winter who mostly effected that shift”, said Cindarina. “Even if there is such divine pressure, I would think it wouldn't push him that far from where he is.”
“Ah, Cindarina”, smiled Penelope. “Don't discount your own role in things. But, no matter, his wishes and yours coincide. But it is no matter. That's not the problem.”
“What is then?” asked Cindarina.
“Winter carries within him the soul of another god”, said Penelope.
Cindarina became very still. “He has feared his father might awaken within him” she said quietly.
“I do not know if that fear is justified”, said Penelope. “But the altercation that has broken out and closed the Academy down involved the freeing of many souls. Many of which once worshiped Winter's father.”
Cindarina looked distant. “So now Winter has new worshipers. Perhaps many more than in the Northern Seas? Ones whose desires and wishes are quite unlike our own?”
“Perhaps”, said Penelope gravely. “It is not clear if they still worship his father, or if that would end up still being directed at Winter. It is clear that there are many more of you in the Northern Seas, but I'm given to understand that only those possessing souls rather than spirits are effective in this divine counting game. There are many unknowns.”
“More than you are aware of”, said Cindarina.
Penelope wrinkled her brow. “Oh dear”, she said. “I do not ask for more than you have said, but I offer my help if I can.”
Cindarina smiled, and touched Penelope on her hand. “Thank you. You have been very helpful. A danger known is a danger that can be guarded against. Winter is presently questing for more information on some of these other unknowns. This may bring clarity to them.”
“I hope so”, said Penelope. “I truly do.”