Saints of the Void: Atypical Read Online Free

politicians first
had a chosen speaker name the representatives, all twenty-one of
them. Then, with so much ceremony they may as well have hired
dancers to perform during the announcement, they introduced Saint
Cosamian Dastou and Corporal Nesembraci Jaydef as “honored guests.”
The Saint’s newest nickname, Castor Wolf, was even thrown in for
good measure.
    Jandal Tryst was the man appointed to control this
meeting after the introductory speaker sat down. He was to ask all
the questions and make all the accusations. Dastou thought him
pretty much a nitwit with a fancy robe, and the representative was
digging himself into a deep hole without knowing it.
    “You cannot simply have them here at your exclusive
discretion, Your Eminence,” said Tryst, referring to Davranis
Security Force agents and their ability to travel freely through
borders. The purpose of this meeting was to address that sole
concern. “You must see how that tramples on our ability to govern
properly.”
    “The purpose of the DSF is strictly defensive,”
replied Dastou coldly. “We have no intent to interfere with
independent nations and have shown very little that would say
otherwise.”
    “Then why do your people stomp about without at least
an early warning as to your arrival, hmm? Why do you act as if all
lands are yours to bumble through and need not be respected?” asked
Tryst, being as overdramatic as possible.
    “You agreed to this, long ago,” said Dastou. “There
were no papers brought to bear, no treaties signed, but Saints and
their entourages of any size have been allowed to cross borders for
centuries. If there was a change of heart it was your responsibility to say so.”
    “Our ‘responsibility’ is entirely to our people,
their safety, and our sovereignty. There is no argument to be made
by you, sir, that would grant power over any of that. Particularly
not at this point in our growth as a nation.”
    Several Stone-State Council members were visibly
uncomfortable at Jandal Tryst’s forcefulness. The Sainthood, as
long as it had been known to exist, was allowed free passage all
over the world, welcomed with some combination of open arms, gifts,
worship, and awe. What was worse was that it all sounded rehearsed.
Tryst wanted to show how smart and strong he was when facing off
against a man who was given respect by most of the world’s
population. Maybe not love, maybe not worship, but certainly
respect. Dastou didn’t have to practice or pretend at authority –
he simply had it, and he was tired of this meeting after only
twenty minutes. Something felt deeply wrong to him about this
sudden power-grab.
    “The new bridge over the Loudani District river is
quite nice. The suspension is stronger, and will support your
growing population with ease,” commented Dastou, playing the card
up his sleeve earlier than planned.
    Confused by the shift in conversation, Tryst looked
at a few of his colleagues before speaking. They were no help,
mostly offering shrugs or befuddled expressions.
    “Yes, it’s... quite the engineering marvel. But what
does...”
    “Do you remember being there when it was built?”
interrupted Dastou.
    “What?” asked Tryst, his voice cracking on that
single word. The subject being broached was taboo, but Dastou did
not relent.
    “Of course you don’t. But we know you were,” said the
Saint.
    The Council broke into pockets of whispers. Dastou
couldn’t hear what they said, but he could guess at some of it. Why is he talking about this? What point is he trying to
make? They all hid their mouths with a hand as they talked,
knowing that their guest at the mic could read lips.
    “Do you care to know,” continued Dastou, “just how
we’re sure you were there?”
    The whispers ceased, all the politicians wanting to
see where the Saint was leading them. Dastou waited an extra couple
of seconds before his next statement just for a little added flair.
Tryst wasn’t the only one able to pump up some fake