The northern Vadurian roads were ill-deserving of being called such, Diantha noted to herself as the carriage bumped one last time on the rough terrain before its wheel snapped and the whole vehicle sank to the side, its rightmost half leaning so close to the mud that Diantha worried some of it might have spilled onto her hat. That was not the case, thankfully, so the driver would be spared a lashing from her. He had, thus far, proven himself a courteous, civilized, and – most importantly – quiet man, so Diantha would much rather not see him punished, but nevertheless the peoples of backward lands oft needed violence as motivator and instructor.
With luck it shan’t come to that with the malcontents to the north. But luck was not something that abounded for the magical girls as of late. If bloodshed could not be avoided, Diantha wondered, could Teana and Mia take up arms against the commons of Vaduria, mutinous curs that they may be? It was no easy thing to ask. Violence and discipline were one thing, but to mete out death was a grim demand, one which Diantha lacked the stomach for. The restless hobnails plaguing the northern rainlands might be dirty and repulsive and offensive to Diantha’s good taste, but that didn’t mean she wanted them dead. Only silent. And if they must be taken by the hand and lifted from the shit and slime, so be it.
“We ride, I suppose, or walk if we must,” she told Mia and Teana. Mia was uncomfortably untroubled by sinking her boots into mounds of mud. Before the past week’s torrential downpours, the terrain of Vaduria had been almost effortless to negotiate, but now they had lost days to finding and trudging a new road that had not been wholly flooded.
“No wonder they call these rainlands,” Mia remarked, smiling.
“Was that intended as a jest?” Diantha had neither the patience or the humor to suffer the girl’s levity. “Until you have something useful to say, I suggest you keep your mouth closed. You can breathe through your nostrils, I presume?”
Mia actually nodded, which Diantha found almost adorable. At least she had that as a merit. Teana helped the driver with the horses and the baggage, though thankfully they travelled without a great deal of burdens. Teana seemed to make a point of always calling the man by his name, Hugo, or Ugo, or however it was spelled; such a champion of the people she seemed to be, so polite and warm, though of Diantha’s three wards it was Teana who was closest to nobility, being the daughter to the cousin of some petty baron in Graufor. If I were born there, I too would have departed that wretched land on the first opportunity. Diantha approved, of course, even if Teana’s amicability seemed like to rot her teeth at times. People opened themselves up to those with smiles as warm as hers, and Hugo himself had shared some interesting hearsay about the degradation of these wetlands in the past few years, owing to a series of dams constructed without much regard for any repercussions. Diantha had praised Teana for that, though she was uncertain if Teana grasped she was being complimented.
“Ah, Diantha, you are so clever,” Lillia would tell her, and Diantha could now even remember her soft lilt even as she said her harshest words, “but you are impossible to love. You have never met someone you could not teach to despise you. You’re lucky I am fond of unpleasant girls.”
The rest of the world did not share that fondness. Stepping past the horses that slogged through the mud with difficulty, aided by Mia, Diantha was convinced that the beasts themselves disliked her. She knew for a fact that pegasi did: Serra was gifted a pegasus in Eluriel, a beautiful white thing with a stupid name, and though Serra and the creature became enamored with one another almost instantly, it had tried to bite Diantha’s fingers when she dared touch it. Luckily, they could stay far from each other now, as Serra was tasked with scouting the shitlands from above, without having to set foot on the muck. Diantha looked up to try and find her somewhere in the skies, taking notice of a black shape circling overhead. At least someone is having a good time.
The girl had the good sense to notice that her companions far below had come to a stop, and began to circle back towards them, landing with surprising grace on a nearby knoll, spreading frightfully large wings. By then the horses stood on sturdier ground, but the carriage was best abandoned for now. This was not the right terrain for it, they were fools for attempting, knowing how easily the rains could hinder their progress, but haste led to such poor decisions. Had the weather held, we would think ourselves bold and clever.
“It must be nice to see the world from the back of a pegasus,” Mia said, sighing. “I wish I had the courage…”
“It’s not lack of courage, my dear,” said Diantha. Mia began to smile, thinking she was being praised. Diantha allowed her that joy. By then, Serra had managed to dismount, and approached them. “So, what have you seen that is worthy of note?”
“To the northeast the roads seem to be in a better state, but they’re leading away from Alunziria, not further into the province.”
“I suppose the happiest thing you can do in the province is to leave,” said Diantha. “I take it that northwest is no good.”
“Not as far as I could see. There were points where the floods were harsh enough to bring down wooden bridges, some of which seemed to be the only easy crossing. I’d have to fly further to track the other roads leading further inland, but to you that might require another day of travel.”
“Is fording out of the question?” Teana asked.
“Perhaps at some points we should consider that recourse,” Diantha remarked, “but our main hindrance is not crossing the rivers but the marshes and bogs. That’s difficult terrain, which naturally makes them ideal grounds for ambushes. Though I still struggle to understand why anyone would choose to live in this place, I’ll grant them that it is a fertile pit for revolt. Out of sight of Vadurian authority, it is both neglected but also well-concealed, ripe for subterfuge, and the land is unwelcoming to riders. Even the maps we do have leave a lot to be desired, drawn mainly from atop pegasi and lacking in detail.”
“Yes, the map I have does not match what I actually saw from the skies,” said Serra, pointing at some dots in the cloth which presumably indicated villages in this wretchedness. “Maybe the map was accurate some thirty years ago, but some of these settlements no longer even exist. And not far from here there is one which the map did not mark. I might call it a village, but that would be too generous. And I couldn’t tell if it was actually inhabited.”
“Thank you, Serra,” she said, and the girl smiled, more discreetly than Mia had. Now I only need to say something nice about Teana and they’ll think I’m a loving tutor. “A village not far from here… If you could show us the way, Serra, perhaps we ought to investigate there.”
“P-Perhaps,” she nodded. “But if it’s deserted, then we’ll have wasted our time…”
“No. To find a settlement deserted is always information of some value,” Diantha explained what she had hoped would be obvious. “Peasants don’t build villages because it amuses them, nor do they abandon their homes by dint of boredom. This is not favorable land as far as I am aware of, as most of the population of Alunziria dwells in more fertile areas… Why would people choose to live in a land with poor soil, far from any other settlement or trade routes?”
“Because peasants make bad decisions?” Teana said in a timid voice. Diantha failed to restrain a chortle.
“My, my, who has taught you to speak this way?” Diantha covered her mouth with a gloved hand, and managed to control herself. “Depressing as it may be, because they’re morons is the answer to more questions than you’d expect. But it is not sufficient, so we ought to be thorough.”
And thorough they were, taking note of any and all unusual sights on the way to the village, following Serra’s directions, who flew just slightly ahead. The horses struggled initially, but soon found a foothold to follow with little difficulty at the urging of the driver, whose gentle touch they seemed to appreciate. Hugo explained that this breed took their name from a marais in Altengrie, though he bungled the pronunciation, and Diantha had no idea what it was that he attempted to say. These hardy animals were well-suited to these marshes, and Diantha did not know enough to contradict that claim, and once relieved of the carriage they aptly traversed the wetlands with the girls on their backs.
Past a gully they rode, now flooded by rainwater and stagnant, and soon they werewere soon met by the foul reek of fens, brushing past marsh trefoils whose flowers bloomed an ugly white, close to brown, and a cluster of dead, drowned ducklings being pecked at by buzzards were proof that the recent downpours were as unkind to nature as to travelers. They flew away as they approached, only to return to their feast once the Blossoms were a safe distance away. Greedily they ate, ripping pieces and sending dried blood flying in arcs, mixing with the fetid wetlands. Diantha giggled when Mia complained about the dragonflies whirling about, but to her dismay a fly thought her mouth inviting, and Diantha spat out the horrible thing while she decided she did not find nature particularly charming. Mia laughed, her laughter not mocking but friendly, like a shared joke, and for that reason alone Diantha did not smack her right in the face.
I always find a reason not to punish them. I hope they appreciate that. Her own years as a pupil had taught her how to hide scarring, mend wounds and sew together the flesh that Madam Faschial so thoughtlessly parted from her wards. Briefly she felt the urge to apologize for her harsh words, but that lasted only a moment. Some part of her mayhaps carried the vain hope that her pupils might one day read her obituary with less pleasure than she read Faschial’s. Mauled to death and eaten by a tiger she antagonized in Prince Leméve’s menagerie. The words still made her smile, as did the thought of that vile cunt reduced to a pile of cat shit. Perhaps some nature could be charming.
“Mia,” Diantha called out, suddenly in fine spirits, “don’t think you’re escaping your lessons just because we’re stuck in a nauseating mire. I hope you’ve at least studied the literature I’ve shared with you regarding the recent history of Vaduria. Can you explain to me the significance of Alunziria this past century?”
“I… cannot,” said Mia. Her honesty could be endearing, were this not such a frequent occurrence. “W-Why are you singling me out? You can ask Teana too,” at the mention of her name, the girl grew pale, and Diantha thought she hastened her steed’s pace. “Or Serra! You never find fault in her deeds and words.”
Funny, Serra once admitted she envied the leniency I show you for your errors. Diantha supposed she should make a point of asking Teana in private if she had any complaints of unjust behavior.
“I don’t need to ask Serra because I know she is literate. You, I have my doubts, which you might so easily assuage if you proved just once to me that you actually read the books I give you, and aren’t using their pages to wipe your nose. As for Teana… Very well, if she can answer, I will hear it.”
“Hm, I know there were disputes between Vaduria and Altengrie, or, rather, between some lesser lordlings. With so little of value in the marshlands, however, I am uncertain as to what bounty was being fought over. Unless a later chapter returns to this subject, the book was unclear as to the causes, merely stating that tensions ignited, soldiers were gathered and letters were sent with unknown messages, but which required diplomatic intervention from the Rose.”
“You are correct in that there was little concrete cause for conflict, at least none that is obvious,” said Diantha, coughing as she made the mistake of breathing in the foulness of the fens again. “Alunziria is of some interest to pursuers of alchemical arts, and our Blossom has funded some ill-advised and unsuccessful study projects that made use of the… fertileFertile swamp environment, we may say generously. In truth, the most notable feature of the province is how no army would ever march across it if any alternative existed, which has at times helped keep the peace between Vaduria and Altengrie simply because here are the widest borders between the two countries, and only a general wishing to make a graveyard of his soldiers would lead legions through his muck. The hostility of the land also serves to funnel all commerce towards narrower roads. As such, the most interesting thing about Alunziria is how uninteresting it is. It is then most curious that a localized war was almost fought over the lands until the hostilities were soothed, and fetid normality returned to the filth and slime.”
“Could war have actually ignited?” Mia asked. “It was a border dispute between two petty lords, so how could it have escalated? Who would risk open war over fens and cesspools?”
“You may have more sense than those idiots rattling their swords a hundred years ago,” said Diantha. “Or perhaps they were wiser than us in our blindness of years. All the same, the Ruby Blossom claims this as a success of our diplomacy, and the Basileus Sylvester invoked the Decree of Imperial Peace to resolve the matter. Now, my girls, what I care about is not your knowledge of dates and names, but what conclusion you can reach from my humble summation.”
By now broken hills abounded, and the sun dimmed behind the canopies of thick, sturdy trees. The breezes stilled, rank with lingering rot and the tang of drenched leaves and branches. Diantha pondered if the silence was reflection or an unwillingness to put thoughts to words.
“Nothing of note happened then,” Mia finally said, “or at least nothing was noted. There were reasons behind all that happened, but because it did not come to war, because the event remained as a diplomatic issue that was resolved, the reasons that almost led to crisis were not thought relevant. That is why we do not know.”
“You told us about this, I recall,” Teana said. “That for all the recorded history that exists, there is far more left unwritten, unknown, forgotten. A hundred years ago, the dispute may have made sense to those who ignited it. Our lack of knowledge now does not unmake this past.”
“Just so,” Diantha was pleased that even though these two seemed not to know what books were for, they listened to her words enough to remember some of it. “When we determine what withstands posterity and what is forgotten, we select not only events but matters deeper still. It did not come to war, so the reasons for war are irrelevant. But if armies clashed and blood was spilled, then it would be important enough to write down. When we look back, we think of endings, of results. We think that this irrevocably led to that, and that this process is inexorable, indisputable, complete… The turning of this wheel can be self-annihilating in ways we cannot predict. Tomorrow robs today of that which is deemed ephemeral, like ideals, thoughts, ambitions, but how can we dismiss them like so when they guide all men?”
“What happened here a hundred years ago matters,” Teana was able to grasp Diantha’s point. She was almost proud of her ward. “And why it happened. As well as…”
“As well as what almost was,” said Mia. “You told us about the war which was averted, but it need not have been so, inevitably. But when we cast aside what almost happened as meaningless to history, we are missing something.”
“You think that conflict may have something to do with this revolt we must quell?”
“Something of the sort,” Diantha nodded. “A border dispute in a land which was always meager but now is utterly miserable… Our books can forget what the land remembers. And what the land remembers, its people do not forget. Even if they don’t realize it. If you wish to discern real truths, the ones which are not given to you but unearthed, these are things you must keep in mind. So many academics, Blossoms or outsiders, peer through the mists ignorant to such truths, but we will keep our eyes open. And the sooner we understand what so troubles this shithole, the sooner we can return to a place where you can open your mouth without swallowing a fucking carrion fly.”
The Rose's Torn Petals 