Page 128 of Veinblood
“I will not rule as the Authority ruled. I will not demand your obedience through fear or force. Veinbloods will return to Ashenvale openly. They will take their place as protectors, not conquerors. And every person, with or without magic, will have a voice in the future we build.”
The cheers are louder now, voices calling out support, hands raised in the traditional gesture of respect.
“But the Authority is not finished. Sereven escaped, and hewilltry to retake what we have won. But we are no longer scattered and hiding. We are united. We are strong. And we will not let anyone steal our freedom again.”
His voice drops slightly, becoming more personal despite the magic carrying it across the city.
“Tonight, celebrate what you have accomplished. There will be feasts held in the plaza and main courtyards through the city. Eat, drink, celebrate, and tomorrow we begin the real work of taking back Meridian.”
He steps back from the edge, and the crowd's response is thunderous. As we leave the balcony, I can hear the celebration beginning below—voices raised in songs, laughter, the sound of people finally allowing themselves to hope.
“Come,” Sacha says as we step back inside. “There's one more thing I want to show you.”
He leads me through hallways and down stairs until we reach a doorway that opens onto what must have once been gardens.
We step outside onto overgrown paths where weeds push through cracked stones and vines have claimed abandoned archways. The neglect is obvious—this area has been forgotten or ignored for years.
A winding path takes us deeper into the space until we reach a small clearing where a statue stands half-hidden by climbing roses. The figure is weathered but still recognizable as a woman in flowing robes with hands raised toward the sky.
“Who is she?”
“Lyrana the Windcaller.” Sacha moves closer to brush away some of the vines. “One of the first Windvein masters. She's credited with establishing the principles that govern how Veinbloods should use their power.”
“What principles?”
“That power exists to serve the people, not the other way around. That strength should protect rather than dominate. That leadership is a responsibility, not a privilege.” He studies the statue's face. “Principles Sereven abandoned the moment he had the chance.”
Despite the damage from years of neglect, there's wisdom in the carved expression, compassion worn smooth by time and weather. I can see why earlier rulers would have looked to her as an example.
“Do you think you can live up to those principles?”
“I don't know. But I have to try. The alternative is becoming everything the Authority claimed we were. Tyrants who use power for personal gain instead of the common good.”
Through the trees, we can still hear sounds of celebration from the plaza. People are singing now, their voices carrying across the city in songs of joy and freedom.
“They're not afraid of you. That’s already different from the Authority.”
“Should they be?”
“That's not what I mean.” I think about the faces I saw in the crowd during his speech—children bright with excitement, adults weeping with relief, old people who remembered better times. “Under the Authority, people learned to fear anyone with power. But they were looking at you like …”
“Like what?”
“Like you're something they've been hoping for.”
He considers this, still studying the statue. “The Authority ruled through fear and control. If I want to rebuild something better, I need to rule through trust and cooperation.”
“Is that what your father did?”
“My father tried to balance the needs of different factions while maintaining stability. It worked, mostly, but it also made him vulnerable to someone willing to use more direct methods.” Sacha's voice grows harder. “That is why the Authority was able to grow as fast as it did. Sereven didn't need to convince people he was right. He just needed to convince them that resistance was futile.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
SACHA
“When the foundation cracks, what stands reveals its true nature.”
Wisdom of the Wandering Sages
