One voice against the weight of silence
Messo’s success in gaining Catenum’s support emboldens him to take to the streets and marketplaces of Setreed. Although he holds out hope that survivors may heed his message, the archives reveal a harsher reality: most Orudarans will not.
Messo began stopping people on the streets, warning them of the coming war and its consequences.
“War is coming!” Messo yelled. “You’re all in danger.”
Most people laughed at him. Some grew irritated at his interruption. Others looked on him with pity, believing he was losing his grasp on reason.
“Sir,” he said to a soldier standing outside a pub. “A war is coming like none Orudara has ever seen. Everyone who remains in Setreed will die. We need soldiers and citizens alike.
You can join us.”
“I don’t know who you think you are,” the soldier said with a menacing laugh, “but I am no coward. I will not flee any supposed battle. If I catch you troubling more soldiers, you will face my justice.”
Messo walked away, discouraged. It was clear that pronouncements on the street were not effective. He turned away and hurried toward the University district.
His position in the Guild gained him an audience with the scholarly conclave.
“The great enemy has returned, and Telimicas is his name,” Messo announced to the assembled scholars. “His army is vast, and it is growing daily. Even the walls of this city will not withstand his assault. Look at the evidence. We must flee.”
“We are scholars of Orudara,” a voice boomed from the audience. “We harm no one. We have reviewed the evidence and found no real threat. No one will harm us. You cannot sway us with your fear mongering.”
“It is not fear mongering!” Messo cried. “Look again. His army will come.”
“You are wrong. Leave us.”
Messo left the University with his confidence scraped thin. The people would not listen. The soldiers were unwilling to see the danger. The scholars refused to see the evidence.
His first night of recruiting had produced nothing but scorn. Yet he could not give up. A rising dread forced him to continue day after day.
“Ma’am,” he said to a young mother of two one afternoon. Her children clung to her skirt as the wind tugged its folds around them. “I am a member of the Information Guild.
Telimicas has an army prepared to destroy Setreed. I know a place where you can take your family and be safe.”
“I have heard the whispers as well. My husband may have left to join the cause. We have nothing left here. Tell me the way, and we will go.”
Delighted by this first success, Messo pressed on. Later, he saw a young mason working hard to brick up a wall, mortar streaking his forearms.
“Good day,” Messo greeted.
“I am listening,” the man said, continuing to set each brick in place.
“Telimicas is coming to bring death and destruction,” Messo said. “You can join his army or you can remain here and die. I know of a refuge where a new beginning is possible.”
“A refuge? Some days I think death is better than the drudgery of my current life. If such a place exists, show me the way.”
Messo continued his efforts. When he found success, it was only among some of the merchants and tradesfolk. Young families from all walks of life also responded to his call. The powerful and wealthy, however, refused to leave their comforts. Most soldiers treated Messo just as the first one had.
The army of Telimicas grew, filled with disaffected servants drawn to his promise of a remade world. The crisis was approaching. Setreed’s leaders still ignored the signs.
One morning, his Guild Master confronted him.
“Messo. We know you have been defying our orders. Despite your extraordinary talents, your inability to place duty above compassion makes you unsuitable for Guild membership. Gather your things and depart immediately.”
Messo’s heart sank. The Guild had been his life and his family. He couldn’t imagine life without it. Yet his new purpose, saving as many Orudarans as he could, softened the blow.
Losing his membership closed old doors, but as news of his dismissal spread, more of the common people listened. Messo’s success drew unwanted attention. He could no longer walk the city alone.
Telimicas’s army began to move only a few short weeks later. Refugees poured into Setreed through every gate seeking the protection of its walls. Smoke rose from outlying villages, and the sounds of distant fighting drifted across the fields to the city’s sentinels. The gates closed a final time, and the siege of Setreed began.
Messo and his last group of recruits slipped out just as the west gate shut behind them. He hoped that they could escape the narrowing gauntlet of Telimicas’s forces and reach Carimpluni without leaving a trail.
Which record will you examine next?
