On the Overmorrow Chapter Five- Damage Control

This time, it was a tall, skinny man with darkened skin in his mid-thirties at the podium. He shared Terys's stark white hair, though his eyes were black. Even his sclera were tinted dark grey.

Only thirteen of the simple wooden chairs ground against the floor this time. Pyros split off from Pucoths, who he usually would translate for. He went up to the dais and stood next to the lanky man. He would be translating for him if Aren remembered correctly. Zinnia, her own translator, took a seat next to Aren. 

The woman in the grey dress went up to the dais. Pyros and the man stepped back to accommodate her. "Attendees, could you please give me your attention? Our next speaker will be Speaker Griffin Parlos. He will be giving his speech in Gilish, and it will be translated into Zeryziani for your convenience by Pyros Nike. Please turn your attention to them. Thank you."

She surrendered the floor to the two.

Speaker Parlos chose to let Pyros do the public speaking for him. He spoke quietly to the translator, who let his voice ring out in a much louder tone around the hall.

"To those on the council, I would like to thank you for having me", Griffin started through Pyros, "I know that some of you are already rather set in your views. I'd like to appeal, nonetheless, to you to change.

"We've spent an extraordinarily long time at war. Like Speaker de Valen before me, I think that war can stop. While she may deride you for only caring for your respective government's bottom line in this, I don't think that is true. My country's representative, Mari de Thern, asked a simple question to the aforementioned speaker earlier; whether or not Speaker de Valen found the risk worth it. I do. Please, just hear me out."

...

Eric found the Sterlir's speech long and winding. "The good in us all" and "Never given a chance to change" came up frequently. Slowly, he started to piece Griffin's true reasoning together. It was all too reminiscent of the speeches he had heard time and time again on the frontlines. 

The Gils, as a people, were incredibly distant from the frontlines, but centuries ago had been at the forefront of the war. They had brought their religion to Ferthusia, even as far north as Arginos. It claimed that thousands of years ago, some few demons had rejected the evil inside them and humans were those few's descendants. 

Dozens of times, he'd learned of villages or temples hiding members of the Evil amongst them. They all had one similar throughline: the preachers claimed that given a chance to change, demons would even in this modern world find the good inside them. Despite their charred skin, demons were as human as humans themselves if they took the chance to reject evil. Eric had seen the result of a 'chance to change' too many times to count.

Still, Eric could ask about whether or not Griffin's argument was based in theology. If he was right and Griffin's answer truthful, it may just poke a hole 

...

Tria had realized long before Eric what Griffin's argument was based on. The monks had told them time and time again that demons could become human if they seized the good within themselves. Tria of all people had no reason to doubt them there, but they had always wondered if the opposite was true as well.

Leaning forwards, they tapped the black-haired woman in front of them's shoulder; the one that had awoken them earlier. In a whisper, they asked the woman to wake them when Griffin started taking the council members' questions. She murmured in agreement, and Tria drifted off.

...

Griffin had gained a great deal of confidence in his voice over the past hour. "Inwi-", Griffin started, but was cut off by the 45-minute bells. Pyros hadn't even had the time to translate. Quickly, the man readjusted. He muttered something quietly to Pyros, who gave a formal thanks to the council before asking for questions.

Eric tried to take the initiative, but Aris beat him out. "It's true", Aris called out, "that people can change. But can demons?"

"Yes. We know they have a navy, their Armada", Pyros responded, listening to a now much quieter Griffin. That confidence had evaporated with the bells' toll. Continuing on, he translated, "That shows they have intelligence. If we, as sapient beings, can choose good, then so can they. They just need a chance."

"And this treaty is extending this chance to them? They'd co-exist with us, not as Speaker de Valen says because they're as tired of all the death as we are, but because they could genuinely become better?"

"Yes", Pyros said. Griffin's voice started overlapping with his once more, "It's worth at least a shot."

Aris nodded. "I suppose it is."

...

Aren felt her heart sink lower and lower in her chest. Everything sounded louder, sharper. Pyros, Griffin, murmuring audience members, and most of all her heart, beating like an undampened bass drum in her ears. The duke, incompetent and blundering as he was as a diplomat, still had an equal vote to hers. Mari was slipping towards the giving it a chance, and now Aris.

Rei and Pucoths's votes might as well already be pencilled in. Hothal's would be as well for now, though Aren could hopefully change his mind; he wasn't nearly as steadfast in his opinion as the other two. Those two, plus Mari and Aris made four. Hothal would make five. More than the magic number for the treaty. Aren would have to go on the offensive if they had any shot left.

Just then, Hothal spoke up.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

...

Tria was shaken from a dreamless sleep. "I'm sorry", the woman whispered, "You wouldn't wake up at first. You missed some of the questions."

Tria started internally panicking but forced themself to stay calm. "Anything important", they hissed back. With a start, Tria realized the exchange had just occurred in Lwini, not Zeryziani.

"No, that duke was just asking some questions. He was already leaning towards peace, though. All the merchants here can't shut up about it sinking ships with their goods, and he's likely going to fold to them regardless."

"So he's in agreement with the- what's the word?"

"Speaker?"

"Yeah. He's in agreement with the speaker on a treaty?"

"Looks like it. You should be caught up now", the woman said softly, smiling. Tria thanked whatever was up there for such a useful person being so near to her.

...

Annoyingly, Eric would have to wait even longer to ask his question. It's not like they had forever to pose them. Hothal cleared his throat and began his question.

"Speaker Parlos,", Hothal said. Across from him, Aren's face turned sour and panicked, unlike her usual confident self. "You've talked about morality and rejecting the evil within us. That strikes me as being incredibly similar to the theology of your people, the Gils. Is your argument for integration based on your religion?"

Eric watched Aren's face go through a whole cycle of emotions before she finally collected herself.

...

Pyros's brain was fried; he'd been translating live for more than an hour now. If any of the other translators spoke Gilish, he would have swapped out long ago. Words were escaping him at this point. He fielded Hothal's question and turned to Griffin. In Gilish, he asked a simple version of Hothal's question; "Are you making your argument because of your religion?"

He felt faint.

...

The answer came unsurprising to Eric. A simple 'Yes'.

What was more concerning was Pyros, who clutched his forehead and stumbled forward to the dais. He leaned on the podium before he gave out completely.

Griffin caught him before his head hit the maple, and looked over to the grey-clad woman, waiting for her next time to speak in a corner, clearly a bit panicked. She rushed up to the dais and shouted above the now-murmuring crowd. They quieted for her, and she assured them that the situation was handled. Going on, she continued, "Speaker Griffin will be given his remaining five or so minutes to speak at the end of the day"

She glanced towards Eric and the other before following on. "For now, we'll simply break for lunch early. The proceedings will restart at One PM. Thank you." She glanced back over to Griffin and made some gesticulations.

...

Pucoths was the first up. She reached the dais in a matter of seconds and helped a now-conscious Pyros to his feet. Aren and the others raised themselves from their chairs. Beside her, Zinnia got her attention.

"I should go check on Pyros. I've had the same happen to me; it's not a pleasant experience. You said you were going out for lunch, right? I should make sure he's alright, so it's better if I stay."

Good.  She wouldn't have to shake Zinnia, who'd normally follow her around like a cart strapped to a horse, always close behind. "One more thing; can you tell Marin to run out on an errand if you run into him? I'd like to get a notebook."

...

Eric had given Liara leave to check on Pyros; she'd be back in a minute. He opened the ornate doors to the Ferthusian embassy. Tehran lounged on a chair. He pointed towards a small pile of boxes lying on an adjacent table. It had two more chairs around it.

"I got us some food. Want to talk over lunch? And where's Liara?"

Eric strode over to one of the empty chairs; a nice one with armrests. "Liara's checking on Pyros. She'll be back in a minute. And I'd love to."

...

Aren pulled Quill into a small, unadorned room on the side, not unlike the one they'd been in earlier.

"I'm going to see if Mari will come with us. If we're lucky, we can shift her viewpoint during lunch."

"That sounds good. I'm going to check up on Pyros before heading out. The cafe's on 7th & Greensborough, right?"

"8th, I think. See you then."

...

Aren rushed through brightly lit hallways, passing her own embassy before reaching Mari's. She opened the door emblazoned with Sterlir's crest and found Mari making small talk with an aide inside. They looked similar to Griffin, so Aren would guess that they were a Gil as well.

She waited for their chat to die down and asked Mari the question. "Would you like to go out to lunch with me?"