Veridian Shores

Chapter 08 - Don't Play Favourites

Walking the grounds with Beel had often provided Capper with an escape from the day-to-day weight of responsibility that the Elders wanted to heap on him. Right now he needed it more than ever. Side by side the pair strode along one of the main interlocking patrol routes on the perimeter, cigarette smoke wafting in their wake.

It was quiet tonight – he was grateful for that. As the harsh taste of tobacco seared through his lungs he tried to order his thoughts, the meeting of the Elder-Bloods still looming in his mind. He'd been surprised that so many had been willing to shed Baelock blood. What surprised him more was that he wasn't even sure they were wrong. He despised Marshall's condescending attitude, but his plan had a certain, undeniable thread of logic. It might not work, but there were no guarantees in the messy politics of Veridian Shores.

He took another long drag, swilled the smoke around in his mouth and exhaled. It floated away in wisps on the night air. Beside him Beel said little, eyes searching the grounds for anything out of the ordinary. The man had a singular talent for multi-tasking.

"You think we're gonna end up going down swinging?" Beel murmured as they walked.

"After what's happened, I think anything's possible," Capper replied, and he hated himself for it. If a war started people like Beel would be the first ones on the front lines, and more than likely, the first ones to die.

Beel, however, didn't seem bothered. "No kidding. Guess you'll have to put on quite a show at the big party."

"Don't remind me."

"I don't have to. You've not stopped thinking about it since you came out of that assembly, have you?"

"I guess not."

Beel shrugged and took another draw on his cigarette. "Well, I'm sure glad I'm not in your shoes."

"I wish I wasn't in my shoes," Capper groaned. "Everyone keeps looking at me like I'm going to come out with some grand plan, just because Jocasta's my sire. I'm not like him!"

"So what are you going to do?"

He stared at the glowing ember of the cigarette, shaking his head. "I haven't figured that out yet."

Their meandering patrol came to a stop at one of the outer walls. Far beyond Capper could see the red-gold haze of Veridian Shores and hear the dim rumble of the city's lifeblood in his ears. Despite its vastness it was a fragile thing that could well be shattered in the coming weeks.

"You know, it's a lot simpler for me," Beel told him, leaning his elbows on the wall and staring out into the glitter of the city. "The Elders say walk; I walk. They say kill; I'll kill. They tell me to go out there and die; that's what I'll do. Anything else just is just mist in the wind."

Capper frowned. "And that's all you want?"

"It's all I need." The guard sighed. "You do what you've got to do, Capper, and I'll look after me. Maybe we'll have a war with Baelock, or maybe this Synod sends us all into a damn golden age. I don't know, and I'm not going to waste my time thinking about what might happen, because there's nothing I can do about it."

"Terrific."

Beel turned and clapped Capper on the shoulder. "I'm sorry you can't have it simple, but that's just how the world is right now. All I can tell you is to keep doing exactly what you're doing. Everyone looks at you as the odd one out. In the guard, you're the one people respect. If you ask me, we're going to need someone calling the shots who's doesn't want to play the game the way the Elders want to. You bend the rules, and that's probably the only way any of us will come out of this in one piece."