It’s our third meeting as a joint council. Basso, Dogio, the Imperi, and the Night each chose one member of their communities to represent them, along with Veda and myself.
The meetings are open to the public as well. Everything is transparent.
“Basso want to see justice for the dead. For each of the names etched on those medallions Raevald kept like trophies. He deserves to die for his crimes,” the representative for Basso, a woman named Shara from the south village, says. Veda used to trade her bait for Shara’s green beans.
“I understand,” Veda addresses her. “You know I understand.” Shara nods. “But we’re trying to get away from executions. From death being a way to deal with misdeeds. And what better way to end the executions, to end the Offerings, with one final ceremony for the man who sullied it all to begin with.”
“She has a point,” Dorian, representing the Night, adds in a way that only he can pull off.
Bronwyn sits next to him and Imi next to her, their hands clasped. Imi takes notes with the other to record the day’s proceedings.
I stand. “Anyone else have any thoughts on the subject?”
“Well…” The Dogio representative, my mother, stands tall as she speaks up. “What will we do with him if he’s not executed? Keep him locked up until he dies? Surely we can come up with something better than that.”
Veda and I share a look.
We’re in one of the old Imperi meeting halls, and there’s a small faction of protesters who shout their own opinions from the seats that surround us. It’s a mix of Imperi and Dogio who hold up signs with phrases like FREE THE TRUE HIGH REGENT! and THE SUN WILL PUNISH US ALL! and THE NIGHT WILL BURN!
It’s hard to break such deep-seated fear.
Then there’s the counter-protesters, who shout about how we’re all one people and no one should be in charge. They hold up a banner that reads: WE ARE ONE. NO GOVERNANCE CAN SPEAK FOR US ALL!
Things are far from perfect.
But they’re much improved.
War’s over.
Offerings have ceased.
Those who still hold a grudge are small in number. Truly, I believe, in time, they’ll come around.
Looking out over the square, like I often do when here, especially during these meetings that bring up so many memories and images of the past few months, I spot the altars and memorials. Some ask for prayers for those who went missing during the volcanic eruptions and resulting fires and mudslides, the flood caused by an aftershock.
Mostly it’s candles and photos and blessings. Remembrances.
Not too far away, a couple miles off the Great Sea is the silhouette of the Island of Sol. The prison still holds a few who have threatened violence against others or incited battle and Raevald, of course. Those who aided his horrible dealings.
But above the jail cells is a renovation, a reimagining taking place. The Coliseum will be converted into something everyone can appreciate. Something useful. What exactly hasn’t yet been decided, but it will happen. It’s one of a handful of victories this joint council has passed.
When I return to the present, Veda’s eyes are on me and her hand has found mine.
It’s important work we’re doing, but I don’t pretend, not with her.
After playing heir and Lunalette for so long, we’re both ready to hand the fate of the island over to the people.
Veda and I, we’ve done our part.
There is no more heir and no more Lunalette.
Perhaps they never existed.
We just want to be Nico and Veda.
Just the two of us living under the Sun and Moon.