Jansu's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The council's fear followed Jansu home. He could not fight it alone. He needed a voice inside the halls of power, someone who ranked just below archon and could smooth his rise. He needed Hana. So he sent word asking her to meet him where no council spies would follow: the old training temple past the shrine, where cracked steps and fallen pillars kept most people away. She came at dusk. Vines crawled over the broken stone around her. A tiny red bird with a lynx's sharp face perched on a leaning column, watching. Hana wore her official's sash. She did not sit. "You want me to back you," she said. "I heard how you won. You buckled the ground under a boy and broke his ribs. Now the whole yard flinches when you pass." Her voice stayed level. "I taught you to draw from your core, not to make people afraid." "Fear keeps order," Jansu said. "Skylian bleeds without it. I will be a fair ruler, but only if they obey." "Then you don't need me. You need someone who fears you too." She turned toward the door. A heavy step stopped her. An old man in dented war-priest armor climbed the broken stairs. A golden sun blazed on his chest. Father Thornshield leaned on the doorframe and caught his breath. Hana went still. Even she did not talk over a war priest of his standing. "He asked me to come," the priest said. He looked at Jansu, then at Hana. "I blessed this child when he was born. I watched the council starve him of stones and pile trials on his back because he had no family name to guard him. He drew power from the earth instead. He did not beg them. He beat them." "By frightening people," Hana said. "By refusing to kneel," Thornshield answered. "You left home to earn your sash. He had no such road. The council would have crushed him quietly." His hard eyes softened on Jansu. "His methods are harsh. I will not lie to you. But his cause is just, and the council's is not." Hana was silent a long moment. A tiny scaled bird darted from the rafters, its blue-green feathers catching the last light, and settled on Jansu's shoulder. It did not flinch from him. She noticed. "Fear is a blade with two edges," she said at last. "It cuts the hand that holds it too." She stepped close to her brother. "I will smooth your path. Not because I trust your fear. Because I trust you more than the men whispering in that citadel." Relief loosened Jansu's chest. "You'll back me before the council?" "I will." Her eyes narrowed. "But I will watch every step. The day your fear turns on the innocent, I take my hand away. And I will not warn you twice." Jansu had won his sister's support. He had also bound himself to her judgment. From now on, every hard choice would answer to her watching eyes.