Chapter 7: B1: Ch 4: Unrest

News of Baron Orson's death spread quickly and a meeting of the Inner Council was called. Othar sat flanked by his younger sister and the Prime Minister  as other important figures sat in their places around the meeting room table.

"I sincerely doubt that this was politically motivated since the killer had on him a sack of valuables." One member said.

"He tied his corpse to a horse." Retorted another.

"He was already going to face the axe by then, I cannot blame him for wanting to make a show of it." A solemn faced member interjected.

The Prime Minister cleared her throat, "Motivation does not matter, the issue at hand is we have a Hustarian killing a Davilk. More precisely, a low class Hustarian killing and robbing a High Class Davilk. There will be repercussions for this from the populace."

Othar rolled his eyes, "For what? Baron Orson wasn't much of a beloved figure amongst the masses."

The solemn man tsked and shook his head, "That will not stop his fellow Barons from whipping the ruffians into a frenzy, your highness."

Another nodded, "Yes, they will think it best to nip the bud before it blooms."

Amelia raised her hand, "And exactly what are we to do? If things go south, Father will have support to force a popular vote for whatever he decides to do."

"Yes, that is true. We can't get rid of him until Princess Tamara returns, and we can't keep him unawares of what is sure to transpire." The Prime Minister replied.

The members murmured until the oldest asked, "Perhaps it may all blow over?"

His neighbor laughed, "With the rumors of the terrorist cell? Not to mention the deceased's thievery only reinforces the fear of Hustarian Gangs."

"Perhaps forcing some out would be good." One suggested.

Amelia scowled, "And send them where, Lord Danesworth? I can't imagine you'd be fine with them creating a commune outside the walls. And we can't send them back to our little war spoil of a country."

Othar placed a hand on her shoulder, "If we could re-establish the monarchy there, perhaps we could."

The Prime Minister looked at the Prince, "The rumored heirs? Please, we barley know if they are even real."

"Wouldn't hurt to send out a blanket call to meet here. Not like it'd be hard to tell with the eyes." Othar replied.

Amelia looked down to the ground, "I agree with Othar. We will have to do it eventually regardless."

"It will likely be too late to solve the coming issue." A man with no eyebrows said.

"I will do my best to keep the King's response to a minimum." The Prime Minister said.

The others nodded, "Very well, I hope it isn't too bad of a result."

The meeting adjourned and Amelia met with Sasha back in the Garden.

"And?" 

"We are basically letting it burn while hoping for those heirs to show up."

"And how do you feel about this?"

"What do you mean."

"Oh, please. You can barely stand to look at our Hustarian Ambassador's eye."

"I will be fine. I know Sherry is dead, don't worry about me harboring any hope otherwise. My brother lays in a graveyard nearby the church, and I have seen it for myself."

Sasha looked guilty, "No body in the hole."

"Ashes in the wind. Same as I want to be."

"And besides the heirs?"

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"Bare through whatever may come."

"Heroes help us all."

"Emphasis on the all."

"Well, shall I go and brew some tea?"

"That would be lovely, Sasha."

----

 In the course of things like a murder committed by a immigrant upon someone of the land they are immigrated to, one naturally is to expect those of a certain persuasion to use that as an excuse to vilify and attack all of those same immigrants. Fear and hate devours the soul, each feeding the other into an all encompassing ouroboros until it bursts out and causes irreparable damage. As such, it is also natural that the mobs formed will take revenge by doing what the one criminal did and what they fear all of the disadvantaged group wished to do to them- the advantaged group. The guards can be payed off and other immigrants can become models by joining in or shutting their mouths, which only helps how vicious and vile the retribution they seek can be.

What is the appropriate response towards a worthless man such as Baron Orson being killed? If men who sat at the same tables at him did not stir up the ire and rage, would it have even broken past some fistfights and rioting? Unfortunately, that is a question that cannot and can never be known. Those men did stir the pot with a heavy hand and then left it to bubble over onto the floor.

So, one? Eye for an eye. But we all know that isn't the case. Eye for an eye only works in fiction. So then how many?

Fifty. Dead. Gone. Destroyed. Burned and desecrated. Violated and vanished. 

And that does not count the injured and terrorized. 

Blood in the street like it rained from the sky as the bodies are left to rot, those who were lucky to find a place to stay inside to fearful to give them a proper burial. Every age, skin color, height, weight, hair color and social strata lay equal in death, just a lump on the paved stones.

They would have kept going, if the burning hadn't threatened the livelihood of some Davilks, the same hands which point the mob towards this action now asked for help to clean up their horrid little mess.

When such things come to pass, what should be the action by the government? By the King? By a Royal Decree?

Punish the ones who attacked? No, that would be sensible. It's to take all full blooded Hustarian and force them into the outer rim of the city to keep them safe. Only those of exceptional talents were left higher than that- for as long as replacing them would be more effort than it was worth. That is the course that was taken, and the path down which destiny would slither down from this point on.

--

"Lady Stasia. Lady Stasia." A tall maid ran into the room nearly tripping over herself. 

A woman in black robes that were laid loose upon her form, long brown hair down to her ankles, loose and frizzled. Her left eye was green and her right was cursed, both behind a pair of thin wireframe reading glasses. "What is it dear?"

"A summons from the Prime Minister and Heirs of Davil. They wish to meet with those who claim the throne here."

"Oh? So I suppose my brother is also getting this summons?"

"I would assume so, my lady."

"And this, summons have you confirmed it's legitimacy?"

"Twice over."

Stasia leaned back and thought, "And this is not a trap?"

"No. From... our source it is related to unrest and the state of their king."

"Them. Are they still planning to honor our agreement?"

"I can see no reason why they would not."

"Ah, it will be nice then."

"What will my lady?"

"Seeing Kia again. I do wonder how she has grown these last thirteen years." 

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