“You feel it too, do you not?”
Out of all the ways Retvik had expected to see his brother Rethais, the way he was currently slumped at his desk, head in his hands, was not one of them.
“The change? The draining of intelligence? The drought of debate? The lack of argument? How everyvok seems to just mindlessly follow each other?” Rethais’s words were filled with anger, but there was a strong undertone of pain underneath. “It has all happened so quickly. I have failed us all.”
Retvik hesitated, then slowly approached the desk. This room was the headquarters of the High General of the Retha, but it was incredibly bland and empty, as if all the furniture had recently been removed, leaving only the bare minimum required for Rethais’s work.
“What happened?” Retvik asked, looking for somewhere to sit down. There seemed to be no extra chairs in the office. A small filing cabinet in the corner, currently empty, would have to do. “What is wrong? I know that something… odd is in the air, but you are acting as if it is the end of the universe. And I have a source that tells me that the end of the universe is a long way off.”
“I was blind, brother. I was ignorant. That ignorance has spread across the entire Rethan race, rolling in alongside the sudden storms and high winter winds. A horrible change is on its way, Retvik, a change that will render us as dumb and mindless as Vohra…”
Retvik blinked, slowly realizing what Rethais was talking about. “Are you… talking about a societal collapse of some sort?”
“Yes. And I was too late to stop it.”
“It has not happened yet.”
“It is happening as we speak. Like a plague sent from the skies above.”
With a sigh, Retvik leaned forward, words suddenly springing to mind. “Maybe it IS a plague.”
“What?” Rethais straightened himself up. “What do you mean by that?”
“Complete and utter catastrophes in a race’s society do not happen overnight, or even slowly over a few weeks, and certainly not in the rather pleasant circumstances we are currently in. My point is, you have not failed. Something is going on beneath our eyes.”
“You… you think?” Rethais trailed off. “That… that all makes sense… Of course the Voidborn would…”
“The Voidborn?” Retvik interrupted. “Rethais, are you keeping something from me?”
“I thought that damn Thantophor would have told you already! The Voidborn wants to have a race to protect and look after the way the Kronospasts have the Whenvern and the Temthans have the Allbirther, and the Voidborn decided to choose us! I would have been utterly blind to this had the Thantophor not appeared before me!”
“Oh…” Retvik slumped forward. “That… that changes everything…”
“We are fighting against the will of the gods, brother. And we have lost.”
“Have we lost? Or are we just undergoing a change? After all, the Void Lord is not the worst god to… be watched over by.”
“We did get a lucky choice of deity, but potentially at the cost of our autonomy. I just do not know when. Or how bad or good it will be.”
Retvik sighed, watching as Rethais reached down under his desk. After a little bit of searching around, Rethais revealed a dusty bottle of mead and two old, porcelain cups. Rethais delicately opened the bottle, then poured out two drinks, handing one to Retvik.
“I was saving this for a meeting with Lepidas, but… well, he has already joined the masses. So I shall share this with you, while I make a very large request… Brother, will you assist me in these trying, uncertain times? Despite my… past actions?”
“Yes, brother.”
“Really?”
Retvik nodded. “Of course. Troubling times are head. We shall get through this together.”
Rethais tutted, sipping his drink. “I appreciate that, Retvik. Because there are times that I fear we will be the only ones left…”