Rise of Yahunyens: Origin

Episode 62: A Testament Of Trust

Into A Flashback:

"Huh?! Why shouldn't we go through the Gate of Ehayor which takes us directly to Mackenas?" Malaes questioned, her voice laced with both confusion and challenge. Her arms were crossed tightly as if the simple act of closing herself off could block the uncertainty swirling around her mind. The trio—Griswa, Yesdar, and Malaes—sat in their home cave on Ehayor.

Standing before them was the man who always seemed to know more—Fheniz. He stood at a distance. He wasn't a man who spoke without purpose, and that was why his suggestion not to go through the Gate of Ehayor directly to Mackenas felt off, unreasonable even.

"Simple," Fheniz replied, his voice carrying the weight of years spent navigating both truth and deception. "To free a world, you need to understand the people of that world. How much do you know about them? What do they want?"

The question hung in the air, thick and oppressive. It wasn't the answer Malaes had expected, nor was it one that satisfied the logical part of her mind. Yesdar leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowed as he processed the reasoning.

"Why should we care what the people want?" Yesdar countered, his voice sharper than intended. "They can do whatever they want once we free them, right? Our sole goal is freedom from the Yahunyens. Most probably, the people will care about that."

Fheniz didn't blink. "That's what you think, Yesdar," he began slowly, his words cutting through the air like a blade through silk. "But if the people truly cared, they'd have rebelled when Gerwanis was destroyed. Trust me, in the ten years I wandered through that world, in search of a Schinong Gate, I don't remember a single night of complete sleep. Not once."

The cave seemed to grow colder as Fheniz's words settled over them like a shroud. Griswa, Malaes, and Yesdar exchanged glances, but no one interrupted.

"I was fixated on one thing—escape," Fheniz continued, his voice growing quieter, more intense. "because I didn't care what would happen to the world. I didn't care about the people. I didn't care about the Yahunyens or their empire or what they'd do next. All I wanted was to leave, to find a better life in another world."

He paused, his eyes locking onto theirs, each word that followed weighted with the kind of truth that only comes from bitter experience. "People don't step into an abyss of uncertainty. If they can't believe with 100% certainty that the world can be freed from the Yahunyens, they won't risk their lives for it. Not when they already have a decent life, wherever and however they are living."

Malaes flinched at that. She hadn't thought about it in such cold, calculated terms. She had always imagined that people would want to fight for their freedom, but Fheniz's words clawed at her illusions, unraveling them thread by thread.

"And that's the core of the problem," Fheniz pressed on, his tone unyielding. "The only reason the world isn't free is because the Yahunyens can change their minds at any moment. Out of nowhere, like on Gerwanis, they could wipe out entire kingdoms, slaughter billions. But right now, they don't. Why? Because the people are complacent. As long as their lives aren't directly threatened, they won't rebel. They won't risk their peace for a rebellion that offers nothing but uncertainty."

Griswa remained silent, absorbing every word. He could sense the shift in Yesdar and Malaes—they were both beginning to doubt, to wonder if their mission was even possible.

"Even the Mackenasian slaves," Fheniz continued, "the people that Malaes' father, Sivera, wanted to liberate themselves, won't fight back unless they have external support—weapons, skills, strategies. And that's just the start. If the people don't trust you, what are the three of you going to do? How will you fight an empire, alone?"