Open the Book

Open the Book

After two months of preparation The Festival of Syterra arrived beneath a flawless blue sky.

The Exchange Amphitheatre had been carved into the slope between the Kefar Crystal Exchange and the Academy district. Stone benches descended in wide semicircles towards a central platform. Overhead hung the great voicecasting crystal that accentuated all the sounds from the dais to the thousands of seats.

A statue of Syterra had been brought to the stage which was the focal point  for all the arriving listeners and was the one thing they all accepted as all statues of Syterra had been romantically standardised into a classical style that was considered cannon and unchangeable. It stood twice the height of a living person. She was always depicted as have a crown with 3 spires on a simple band of gold. She was given wings which were outstretched and spanned wider than her height. They were symbolic of her ascension and completion of holding all powers. Her hands were outstretched as if in motion of evoking a power though her body and a book of knowledge and invocations floated in front of her. On the book’s outer coverSyterra’s famous warning is written, “Beware of Power”. The meaning of which each group in the Amphitheatre had a different interpretation and the opinions and diversity of thinking around Syterra started to become apparent.  By midmorning, every bench was occupied.

The amphitheatre was a blowhole ready to erupt. Traditionalists carried painted images of Syterra and were offended by anyone that didn’t look away in respect. Reformers distributed pamphlets they lay littered about the seating and aisles as those who found their reformist message offense had dropped them instantly. Mystics studied the sky looking for omens. Velyborn devotees watched the sunlight around the statue for signs of an appearance and scholars argued over the historical accuracy of the statue and its depiction of Syterra’s warning. The Delronians arrived and spread themselves out through every section, sitting in every vacant seat. Any other empty seats were quickly filled by the offer of free food and snacks that had attracted thousands more and the costs of filling the venue had nearly taken two of the chests of gold. Money well spent as far as fateese could tell. People even crowded the entrances, filled the surrounding streets and climbed nearby walls and rooftops for a view. 

Fateese waited beneath the dais. His shirt clung to his back and ordinarily heat would be the cause but in this case he was so worried about the culmination of 2 months' work that he was sweating most profusely. 

He had spoken before to the smaller tavern crowds, an academy class and some rooms filled with wealthy people pretending not to negotiate bribes. But this he had never done. He had never stood before so many faces.

“You look ill,” Drell said.

“I am considering escape.”

“Delrona would find you.”

“Yes. That is interfering with the fantasy.”

Above them, the official Voice Caster completed a respectful account of Syterra’s contribution to Kefarian education. It was beautifully spoken but almost nobody listened as they knew this was just the formalities, the warm up until the main events. Many in the crowd had come expecting disagreement, revelation and there were many who were there for the free fried fish on stick. A lecture on educational history satisfied only one of those interests to one small faction of the audience.

Then the Voice Caster stepped away, his footsteps excellently echoing in the crystal.

Fateese climbed the stairs to the dais and the official responsible for the programme intercepted him on the way up.

“Now look..you have .07 time on the stage.”

“I was promised .12 time.”

“You were promised .10 time but getting all these people into the amphitheatre has taken extra time.”

“I paid for .12.”

“You paid someone who did not control the schedule.”

Fateese smiled realising what was going on and reached into his pocket. He flipped him several coins.

“I’ll speak until I am done.” He stepped onto the platform.

The size of the crowd struck him all at once and his heart was racing though it didn’t matter if he sweat anymore as he was entirely drenched. 

“Who is this sweaty little man?” A patron in the front row said to his companion. 

Then thousands of conversations slowly merged into a single restless murmur. Banners stopped moving above the benches. And a lull came over the multitudes by the time Fateese had reached the podium. He looked down at the speech Delrona had prepared.

The first sentence concerned the historical suppression of cross-elemental magical practice by centralised institutions.

He looked back at the crowd.

“Good morning.” His voice echoed out in powerful invisible waves. Several people answered awkwardly or for the sake of humour but most sat silent and expectant of entertainment or a great oratory.

“I am pleased to see so many citizens gathered to honour Syterra. I am even more pleased that the food was free, because otherwise I might be speaking to twelve tourists and a disappointed fried fish seller.” A few people laughed.

The mystics did not and their silence stifled the mood. Fateese swallowed hard and yet another drop of sweat rolled down his back. Behind him, Professor Etlan watched with his arms folded. fateese saw him and gave a little self conscious shrug and then tried again.

“I have been told that every Syterran tradition is represented today. Traditionalists, reformers, scholars, mystics, Velyborn devotees and several groups whose beliefs were explained to me at considerable length without becoming noticeably clearer.”

More laughter spread through the amphitheatre. Fateese felt his breathing slow.

“There are people here who believe Syterra was the greatest mage who ever lived. Some believe she was a scientist. Some believe she spoke with beings beyond Aethoria. Others believe she came from beyond Aethoria.”

He glanced towards the Velyborn devotees.

“One gentleman told me she became a column of light and still visits him in dreams. That gentleman also tried to sell me a crystal bracelet, so I advise cautious interpretation.”

The crowd laughed again.

Even several Velyborn devotees smiled. Fateese placed Delrona’s prepared speech beneath the podium. He no longer needed it.

“You disagree about what Syterra was. But everyone here agrees upon one thing.”

He paused for effect.

“She knew something we do not.”

The amphitheatre quieted.

“She wielded earth, fire, water and air. Not as four mages can today as they compete and stand in rival politely apart. Not as four different academy schools issuing separate certificates following separate curricula. She was able to bring them all together.”

Fateese pointed towards the ceremonial stations around the statue. They represented the elemental powers and their schools that wield them in their present understanding.

“Each year, Kefar celebrates Syterra’s unity by inviting four different schools to perform four different demonstrations from four different corners of this platform.”

A ripple of laughter and agreement moved through the reformers.

“Kefar honours the first mage to unite every element by making absolutely certain nobody else tries.”

Professor Etlan unfolded his arms. Fateese leaned towards the crowd.

“If Syterra believed magical understanding should cross elemental and cultural boundaries, why are her surviving teachings locked beneath Kefarian institutions?”

The traditionalists began murmuring.

“Why are pages of the Book of Lyt sealed away from the people who preserve her memory?”

Someone shouted, “Open the book!”

A second voice repeated it.

Fateese continued.

“Kefar tells us it has preserved Syterra’s teachings. But knowledge hidden from the world has not been preserved.”

He gripped the sides of the podium.

“It has been imprisoned.”

A reformer rose first.

“Open the book! We all deserve access if it is there.”

Then others...“Open the book!”

The words spread through the amphitheatre.

Fateese waited until the chant began to weaken.

“I was not trained as a mage.”

Laughter came from one of the academy sections.

A young fire mage stood.

“Then what would you know of Syterra’s power?”

“Very little,” Fateese replied. “Until recently, I thought elemental alignment referred to arranging drinks in order of strength.”

The crowd laughed.

The fire mage remained standing.

“You accuse the academies of concealing magic you cannot perform.”

“No. I accuse them of concealing magic they say cannot be performed.”

Fateese removed a narrow sheet from inside his coat.

The amphitheatre became quiet again.

“This was copied from a document locked inside the Library of Crysalise.”

Professor Etlan stepped forward.

“What document?”

“A surviving passage from the Book of Lyt.”

Several scholars began speaking at once. Fateese raised the fragment and took in a deep breath to read as loudly as he could without it becoming a shout.

“No element stands alone. Flame rises through air, earth guides water, and water carries the memory of stone. The divided hand commands little. The joined hand may awaken the world.”

Professor Etlan stood up upon hearing the words. The traditionalists lowered their heads in awe of possibly hearing the words of Syterra herself.  The more pragmatic reformers stared at the fragment; many had their doubts but the emotion of the moment and the reaction of Etlan, who was known to them, pressured them to believe the sweaty man on stage. Then Professor Etlan pushed towards the platform aiming to at least challenge the assertions made by fateese.

“That passage has never appeared in any authenticated collection.”

“Of course not,” Fateese said. “It was locked away.”

“You expect us to accept your word? Non-scholar, non-mage. You are not even from the Mosaics.”

“No. I am a stranger standing on a stage after bribing someone to let me speak. You should demand proof.”

The crowd responded immediately.

“Proof!”

Fateese stepped away from the podium and approached the Statue of Syterra.

Hidden beneath his sleeve was the crystal device Delrona had constructed.

Four narrow crystal slivers had been fitted around a central purple stone. Fine silver wires ran from the device to rings upon his fingers. It could not give him command of any element.

It did not need to.

Drell, Horvas and Brell had positioned themselves near the elemental symbols and crystal braziers. They were near enough the water display and the stone piles sitting like an offering around the statue. A fourth person, a Delronian mage that specialised in air, waited beneath the eastern arch with an air crystal concealed inside her cloak.

Fateese placed one hand upon the statue’s pedestal and for a moment, nothing happened. The crowd was still demanding proof and grew restless until the shouts and demands for proof became uncomfortable. Then fateese caught Drell’s eye and signaled to him to start. The others took their cues from him.

Fateese demonstrably pulled out his crystals and with excessive flourishes and a few genuine movements that he had seen Delrona perform he pointed his  crystal device at the base of the statue. 

Water gurgled and then surged from the large urn and became a tall column of water and then a fountain feeding itself.

It rose in a twisting column beside the statue, catching the sunlight and tilting and swaying across the platform but never collapsing.

The crowd was silent and expectant. One element performance did not justify acceptance of his claim but a show had started and most were happy to watch.

Horvas secretly utters a phrase and pointed his earth crystal. Dust and fragments of stone lifted from the rubble collection and began circling the pedestal. The water joined it in synchronicity in a spiral flute spinning up the column that began to conceal the statue. Then the braziers flared with some coaxing from Brell and many years of training and a powerful crystal concealed in the arm of his cloak. Streams of fire rolled towards Fateese’s outstretched hand without touching him then wind swept across the amphitheatre bending the fire that licked and flickered until it became a third spiral in the spinning flute. The wind was so strong it pulled at banners which snapped above the crowd. Pamphlets and tickets that were strewn across the ground flew up into the air. Petals of fragalis flowers placed around the statue spiralled into the air and joined the water, fire and stone.

Fateese stood at the centre of it all and performed like never before. Making sure that the audience found his actions believable. Though he could feel no elemental power personally and had no desire to command the elements he could feel the energy around him from the hidden mages and it inspired him to even greater acting. The device in his hand merely warmed against his skin.

But the crowd did not see Drell, Horvas, Brell or the woman beneath the eastern arch. All they saw was an untrained man commanding four elements.

Although many were convinced like the Traditionalists who fell to their knees and some of the Mystics that cried out that Syterra had answered. There were still some skeptics in the crowd but they dared not accuse fateese of trickery with such passionate and fervent responses from those that were easily convinced. Most believed what he was doing was possible from childhood they had just never seen it. The Velyborn devotees raised their hands towards the light looking expectantly for the ripples and flashes that accompany an appearance. Some of the Scholars shouted at one another about conduits, concealed crystals and the construction of the pedestal but even they were siding with acceptance of the truth of fateeses’ assertions. 

With a dramatic dropping of hands the column collapsed and dust, water and flame mingled and fell to the stage silent. 

For one extraordinary moment, the amphitheatre mirrored that silence and waited for the powerful foreign non-mage to address them. 

Fateese lifted the forged fragment. “If this is what one stolen passage can teach a man with no training, what remains locked beneath the Library of the Crysalise?”

“Open the book!” someone shouted.

This time the answer came from thousands.

“OPEN THE BOOK!”

Fateese returned to the podium.

“The Book of Lyt does not belong to the High Council!”

“OPEN THE BOOK!”

“It does not belong to the academies!”

“OPEN THE BOOK!”

“It belongs to every Aethorian whose life is shaped by crystal power!”

The crowd rose to their feet. Fateese could no longer distinguish Delronians from reformers, traditionalists or citizens who had entered only for the free food. The chant shook the amphitheatre.

“OPEN THE BOOK!”

Fateese looked towards the northern exits and the paid men were already moving.

They raised their banners and called upon the crowd to march towards the Library of Crysalise. Others pointed towards the council district. Someone shouted that the High Council should be made to answer before the people.

Fateese leaned into the podium.

“Now, I would never encourage responsible citizens to leave this amphitheatre, cross the Academy district and gather outside a library that has ignored them for generations.” The crowd roared. But you have rights that have been trampled on for generations. Seize your chance O people of justice. 

The chants and emotions of the amphitheater affected everyone there. The fanatical hoards flooded towards the exits. The official Voice Caster seized Fateese’s arm.

“What have you done?”

“Increased your bank balance, you greedy fool.”

“You have started a riot!”

fateese ignored this and walked away starting to fear a little for his own safety mumbling to himself. “Not yet, but with any luck a big one before supper.”

A crash sounded from the upper concourse.

One of the food stalls overturned. Clay cups shattered across the steps. A group of dock fighters pushed through the crowd, shouting that Kefar had stolen Syterra from the people.

Guardians appeared at the western entrance, far fewer than the festival required.

Someone threw a stone at them and it struck a Guardian’s shield. The Guardian pushed back against the onrushing crowd. Another stone followed. Then another. They saw the futility of their task and stepped aside before becoming foot fodder to thousands. 

The march spilled from the amphitheatre on all sides and into the surrounding streets. Banners rose above seething masses and what seemed a little like a parade. The hired criminals soon joined them and it turned ugly as space between each of the people in the waves of people in the streets shrank. Pushing and punching began and panic set in. 

Several of the thugs reminded each other of the opportunities that Fateese’s instructions prvodided concerning looting and started entering stores and shops along the open stalls. The vendors who were already concerned about their wares moved to protect them and increased the violence to the edge of the crowd forcing it to move even faster in the middle. Many shop windows shattered and smoke began rising near the Exchange road.

Fateese remained beside the podium while the amphitheater emptied around him. Drell climbed onto the platform.

“We should leave.”

“Probably.”

“The Guardians will close the roads.”

“They will almost certainly try.”

Drell looked at the thousands pouring towards the academy district.

“Was all of this part of Delrona’s plan?”

Fateese watched a man run past carrying three free fish beneath one arm and a stolen ceremonial banner beneath the other.

“Not the fish.”

Another roar rolled through the gateway to the streets.

For the first time, Fateese understood why Delrona enjoyed standing before councillors, merchants and frightened officials. There was a particular pleasure in speaking a few carefully chosen words and watching other people turn them into action.

He also understood something Delrona had not mentioned. Crowds listened until they believed the voice belonged to them. After that, they required no speaker at all.

The bells of the Library of Crysalise began ringing an alarm. Fateese tucked the forged fragment inside his coat.

“Well,” he said, following Drell towards the rear stairs, “at least nobody can say the festival lacked enthusiasm.”

Behind them, the crowd surged towards the library.

Above the amphitheatre, Syterra’s stone hands remained extended towards the amphitheater and her stone book repeated the warning “Beware of Power”.  And for the first time in hundreds of years Kefar did not seem like a well managed cultural center of the world. 

Thy Quest: When the Crowd Believes
Fateese persuades the crowd using humour, a forged passage and a staged display of elemental power. Choose two of these methods and explain why they are convincing. At what point does the crowd stop following Fateese and begin driving the uprising itself?