Hope
The roar of the hall filled Braz’s heart.
The stuffy hall had been filled for hours and the long and rambling discussion rattled around his sleep-deprived head. The arguments from those with power to continue to restrict the rights of those less fortunate raised Braz’s temperature, but this was not the place to argue. He wasn't even sure why he was here - was this talking really going to be the way to fix the actions of the evil?
Then there were words- firstly from Theo, drowned out by the crowd but like a seed they grew among the throng. And then Helikaon - words spoken with a passion and purpose, a directness like that of his sword.
The impact of the words was immediate and when brought to a vote the council could do nothing but agree with the terms.
Exiles, ramifications and inquests rattled around the room but this was inconsequential to Braz. The sound of the room agreeing to support the needs of the least fortunate, agreeing to principles of self-determination and freedom within the collective meant more than any of the perfunctory actions to be taken.
Today was a good day, and maybe the gods, whilst below the station they had placed themselves, had influence that should not be ignored.
Celebration of this event was muted - a walk to the harbour to breathe in the salt air and think about what lived beyond the horizon drew Braz. Stories of far off monsters and difficult passage made it clear that they should not venture onto the sea without preparations. Preparations that had already begun to calcify in Braz’s mind.