Mira pulled her cloak closer around her and huddled into the crook of the wood. Dawn was beginning to break. Though summer was fast approaching, the mornings were still sometimes crisp, especially on the water.
The walls of Jhelom were fading into the distance. The light had faded from the granite, though it still gleamed with the coming light of dawn. At last glance, the star and moon banner flew over the harbor tower. But beyond that, not even Mirava’s keen eyes could see what transpired.
She had a feeling it would be a long time before they returned to the city, and that filled her with mixed feelings. While the scout had no desire to become embroiled in a war she had little control over, she knew that it would have effects she could barely begin to imagine. Leaving would end -all- control over the situation, and worse, leave them blind to what was happening. Crispin had told her to look to the horizon, and Mirava was trying to. But for now, all she had to go on were intuitions and feelings. And children’s stories.
An army could be used for defense or conquest, Crispin had said. If Celestyn succeeded in his conquest, then he would have the largest standing army in, as far as Mirava knew, the history of Britannia.
What would he use it for?
From all appearances, Celestyn seemed to be motivated by a desire to assist his people. The projects he was involved with spoke of a true commitment to the civic aspect of Jhelom. He was building an airship dock to improve trade and increase prosperity. He spoke of his city with a passion that was not feigned. He was even a patron of the library. Though these things may have furthered his own ends, they ultimately ended up benefiting the community as a whole.
His personal characteristics also appeared to be admirable. Mira had not forgotten the drafts of letters and replies she had seen in Celestyn’s office during her “reconnaissance”. She had watched as Radha had flipped through letter after letter, each filled with negative replies. So few had supported Celestyn in his endeavors. He was outnumbered, working for something few people wanted to believe in. Yet in spite of that, he had continued to work toward his goal. Mirava could not be sure what Radha gathered from those letters, but to Mira, it spoke of strong commitment. She could believe that he would return loyalty with loyalty, and punish those who betrayed. Mira would have thought him a worthy leader based on those qualities alone, even if she hadn’t known of... other parts of his history.
Though Mirava had not known the name of the “unnamed warrior with the startling blue eyes” who had made appearances in childhood stories of adventure, she had grown up knowing him as an example of heroism. The golden-haired woman of her mother’s stories had always considered him to be an ally. While what Mirava knew now changed the meaning of the stories, it was difficult for the scout to believe that someone her mother trusted could be undeserving of that trust. She had grown up thinking of both the golden-haired woman that was her mother and the unnamed warrior as heroes. Though neither was perfect, both were models of bravery, loyalty, and honor.
If that weren’t enough, Mirava also felt a responsibility to not shame her family. While tradition was not something she generally concerned herself with, she did feel a need to at least prove that she was not a disgrace to her parents. Especially in front of someone who had known one of them.
If Mirava had been by herself, those would have been reasons enough to support Celestyn. However, Mirava was reluctant to discuss all her reasons with her party. First of all, it was a bit embarrassing to have to explain that she believed so strongly in children’s stories. Secondly, even if she could explain such things, she was hesitant to mention the history between Celestyn and her mother. Though Mirava was not ashamed, she felt a need to protect her mother’s reputation from slander. Finally, her friends simply did not feel a need to involve in the war anyway. Mirava's stories would not change that. Feuding Jhelomian princes were not their business, and there was no reason why it should be.
Aside from the economic impact, perhaps. Mirava tucked her hands into the folds of her cloak. Or the fact that they had set in motion an event that may have effects for years to come... especially if Celestyn’s ambitions moved beyond the walls of Jhelom. Not that she expected it. But then again, her reasons for justifying her trust were shaky and sentimental to put it lightly.
She had inexpertly tried to explain some things to them, and hinted at others. But what could the party do? They could not fight a war. So the party had left the city. She had gone with them.
What kind of ally runs away when the situation is bad? Even if there wasn’t anything they could do to drastically change the situation, didn’t they have a responsibility to be there? Simply be present?
What kind of ally leaves in the middle of a war?
Mirava shivered slightly, and shook her head against the early morning chill and against her thoughts. It wasn’t sensible to dwell on that. After all, what was done, was done. Whether right or wrong, they had acted. She had acted.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and watched the rippling water of the ship's wake.