8th chapter, the joys of a politic of fear...

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« Supervisor Fenrir, you stand before us without the shifter you were supposed to watch.”

“Basically.”

“And according to you, he died in the most harmless place in the island?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Do you understand you’re in a position no man has been in several centuries?”

“Don’t know. Don’t really care. That was an annoying mishap.”

There was a heavy silence, full of despise and furor. But it wasn’t one sided. At least for the despise. It was magical, how the vision of the world could be changed when others stopped being a concern.

They could think all they want of him. They could judge. They could even insult him or try to humiliate him if they wanted. It would actually be fun to see them try. They could think of themselves as important, sitting proudly on their chairs with pompous titles. Thor. Loki. Freya. And Odin. But these figures, revered as supreme-like beings in the common culture, only appeared to Fenrir as they were. Humans. With power on their kind, but still, humans.

The only reason why he didn’t speak frankly to them was the little fun he had watching them try to impress and intimidate him. Fenrir simply couldn’t feel threatened by them. He simply stood like he had to, with his skull under the arm. They couldn’t do or say anything to reach him, or hurt him. And that was their biggest mistake. Never start with the worst you can do. Because once a man lost everything he cared for… then there wasn’t any leverage left to use on him. They were all… ridiculous.

Thor, the hot-headed warrior, who believed too vividly in his invulnerability. His pride in his gift and his overconfidence was the perfect example of how stupid shifters sounded to Fenrir’s ears. The right half of his face had long lost the skin for a smooth white layer. A literal giant scar covered the half of his face, letting anyone know the nature of his ability. No subtlety. No strategic thinking. Always relying on attack, because he thought he’d never need to defend. It had been a recurrent mind game to Fenrir, to imagine ways of effectively killing him.

Loki was at another extreme of the spectrum. At least, this one had somewhat of a style, taking account of the mental aspect of interactions. But… That was pretty much his only quality. He thought of himself as more important than he truly was. He always threw haughty looks, and talked in a honeyed tone, like he always sought to dominate the other by speech. Probably a tendency also developed through his ability. When you have the power to open the most secret doors… you get used to having everyone begging to be stepped on in exchange for silence. To Fenrir, the most difficult in his presence was to not laugh from his ridiculousness. It had to be a change for him to face someone who wasn’t impressed at all.

Freya, the puppet… Only feminine figure of their group, she probably was the saddest of all. Out loud, everyone would say she stood among them because they respected power regardless of the sex. But in the most common places, the forewatcher had often heard the most disgusting words about her. Everyone considered her as Odin’s trophy, when she should have been the proud symbol of an equal union between cities.

Fenrir would have felt compassion and support for her if she faced reality. But instead, she played the perfect servant of Odin’s wishes like she believed it was her own will. The poor woman didn’t have a will, and that was the saddest. Behind this mask of authority, there was a woman who didn’t stand for herself and even worse, didn’t stand for her people in Southenhein. She wasn’t worthy of the title. Many others of her city would have been more inspiring queens than this imposture.

But then, when the first two filled the room in terms of noise, and the third tried to perfect her unconvincing severe look, there was Odin. Silent. Watchful. Most people on this island believe in some sort of high council of great leaders. But the truth was ugliest. The three others were ridiculous because they believed in the role they played into a grotesque show, under the control of the puppeteer. The master that fooled them with an illusional equality of power. His greatest move was to let the actors think they were in charge. Odin was the mind ruling over this island, and sometimes, Fenrir felt like he was the only one to truly see it.

If anything was even close to be actually important in this island, it was this man. In a way no man should be. Succeeding in taking power over this island was enough of a reason to not underestimate him. But succeeding in keeping it for so long, it was enough to consider him as a force to reckon with. Not for Fenrir of course. But for the others. For the island. For all mankind.

The silent poison of this world…

“Do you think there will be no repercussions on you?” Loki asked coldly. His ridiculous stance made this too easy to mock him. Did he think he was the least intimidating?

“Actually I do. None of this was my fault. And it’s not like you can hurt me. Especially you, precious lady.” Fenrir replied flatly.

The Loki’s face turned to a slightly redder tone as he contained his rage. This man may wear the title; the person was nothing close to impressive for Fenrir. What was a master of fear, against someone who already lived in his personal nightmare? Someone whose shame had already been exposed? A pretentious, harmless annoyance. nothing more. Fenrir didn’t care if Loki would find this offensive and even sacrilege; his eyes were on Odin who observed him with a persistent stare, like he tried to pierce through his soul. Good luck with that. His soul had already been crushed to nothingness a long time ago.

And his surviving body had acquired something they were all angry about. Immunity. He could sense them boiling in a desire to torture or kill him for his arrogance. But then they would lose so much more… Their precious power… And it was good. Either case, they would lose in any form of aggression toward him. And inflicting them torment was one of his last joys.

“I say we act.” Thor predictably said, losing his patience. “Unregulated death is unacceptable, and we must reply harder!”

Uneased in this male effervescence, Freya didn’t speak a word. But she had a reflex that told a lot about her servitude. She glanced at Odin, foretelling his entrance in the scene. And indeed, The master puppeteer calmly rose a hand. He didn’t tend to like agitation either.

“My friends, I think we must act effectively, and with reason. The way I see things, we have two problems in one there. The first being the death of the shifter Gellen on a safe ground, which is a direct break of the rules that unite us. And the second is the loss of one of Westenhein’s men, under the ruling of Loki here. We must take into account the grief of our friend, and apply the sentence with the respect that is due.”

Odin spoke calmly, but in a controlled tone. Nothing he spoke was random, and it instantly brought the attention and silence of the other leaders. Leaving him plenty of silence to fill with his poisonous words.

“I suggest, in repair for the offense to Westenheim, to give our comrade Loki two dragons to execute his sentence on. Like the procedure we established advises. One for the prey the shifter couldn’t kill. And one for the pain of his loss. Would that sound fair to you, my friend? Would it appease your heart to be the arm of humanity’s justice this time?”

Make them feel like they have a choice, like it’s just meant to be an idea they could find attractive and perfectly fair… Call them friends to create an unconscious bound of familiarity. Propose a solution that sounds fully appropriate to the measure of the problem. And address the other with a seemingly opened question, focusing the attention on him. The manipulation was sneaky and effective. Loki was caught by the social pressure, by the flattery, and probably by his lack of solutions of his own too. He suddenly found himself expected to give his opinion on a matter everyone tacitly assimilated as logic and reasoned.

But there was more. Fenrir caught the little glance Odin threw at him, a kind of look that meant a lot to anyone who could decrypt it. Under the charming and smiling face, a single eye was enough to express all the hate that consumed him. He was silently furious, hiding under a mask only Fenrir wasn’t fooled by. Loki wasn’t the only one he tricked with this performance.

Odin tried to hurt the forewatcher with the impending ‘yes’ that would inevitably follow. The great ruler knew quite well of Fenrir’s dislike for the hunts. But he made the mistake to think that he cared for dragons. He didn’t. Just like him, just like them, just like everything else, dragons didn’t matter to Fenrir. But letting him think so was the only defense he had against this man. So he would stop searching for new ways to try and torture him.

“It would be a solution for my city’s interests.” Loki replied, trying to hide his discomfort. “But I think there’s another side of the problem that remains unsolved…”

That low bastard… Loki really cared about bringing him down, visibly. It was almost pitiful for Fenrir to watch. Because it was a living proof of how the meanest ones got on top, with childish sadism. And also because it was naïve to think that Odin could be argued. With him, one could at most think he exposed an argument, while everything was already decided.

“Well I think this is a problem that concerns Northenheim, and thus, if everyone here agrees, I’d like to personally take measures, privately. As my way to move on with the offense that was done to me.” Odin asked, looking at each one in the eyes.

No one argued back to that. How could they? Odin was a remarkable puppeteer… and no one would dare to question his ‘request’. He made it sound perfectly fair. Although they all burnt in the desire to inflict the worst pains to the forewatcher that stood before them, trying to claim Odin’s due was never in their interests.

Loki, Thor, Freya, immortal titles… that could always be worn by other powerful mortals, who would be so happy to be named to replace a… too contradicting leader. Even if they all claimed to be equal, they all followed Odin like a superior mind. To the point Fenrir was certain they’d feel actual joy in giving him what he wanted, whatever their personal costs. They were so predictable, Fenrir didn’t even need his future vision to know how they’d react.

Another case where he preferred to focus on the present, for seeing the event twice would be just twice as boring.

“As much as I would have loved to take part in it, I must recognize this doesn’t concern my city.” Thor said with a note of disappointment. The guy would have obviously wanted a kill or two. But he was less stupid than most of his kind. In the opposite of most shifters, he knew where his interests were. “It’d be misplaced of me to want and repair this myself.”

A little passive attack there, but it didn’t go unnoticed, either by Fenrir or the master himself. As usually, it held something fascinating to see how Odin would put this hot head back to his place.

“As I agree that everyone here must face his or her own responsibilities and enjoy their independence, I’ll still remind you that we’re all together when a shared problem shows up. But I know you wouldn’t let us down if we ever needed your assistance, my friend.”

No voice rising, no cold tone. It was probably the most chilling. Odin spoke with a soft voice and a smile. Always polite and calm, that was the way the best manipulations worked… However, it was explicit enough for Thor to go silent, and nod with an uncomfortable smile on his own.

A bit timidly, like the example of his counterpart was demonstration enough, Loki made a stepped, and bowed in submission.

“I for one shall agree on these terms. I admit Fenrir’s case is above my capacities, and I would be happy to deal with my part. I’ll accompany the tutor of the shifter Gellen so he can make peace with his loss.” Loki spoke a bit ceremoniously.

Most of the leaders here inspired nothing to Fenrir, maybe some disgust. But Loki was the most gifted one in being irritating. How could a man that acted so superior bend so willingly to another? They all acted like friends, when their only feelings were distrust and fear. How fake and pitiful. Worst, Fenrir knew that the ruler of Northenhein enjoyed these ridiculous flatteries. Nothing could make him sicker than seeing Odin feeling joy.

“May this incident remain behind us. I hope you and your city will find peace, and move on from this tragedy.” The master puppeteer replied with a smile that barely hid his satisfaction, putting a hand on the shoulder of his pet. “Please try to find joy in your revenge, as a personal favor for me. I nourish a fierce hate toward those who hurt my loyal friends.”

It would have been satisfying to see the man with the biggest self-esteem getting mind tricked like a fool, if the core of it wasn’t so low. It wasn’t about Loki, even if the puppeteer was probably so happy to make him proud of doing the dirty job. Fenrir knew the message was directed to him.

It was Odin’s way to start handling his part of the problem. A mind game, to torture the forewatcher under the nose of his three counterparts. Encouraging Loki to do such thing was already disgusting, but telling him to enjoy it was beyond that.

Without adding any further word, probably afraid of making a false step, Loki saluted the other rulers and walked out of the room, probably heading to his merry massacre. Feeling that his presence was becoming unwanted, Thor sighed but showed up a smile when he addressed to Odin. Fascinating really, how the hot head got back in the rank after being reminded who was in charge.

“It’s always full of teaching to meet with you. Please do think of me whenever you need me. You know I’m only waiting for my chance to shine and… I’d prefer to shine in the name of my people rather than in mine. I hope you know it.” Thor spoke in a falsely proud stance. Maybe did he believe himself that his words were respect, when it sounded like clear submission.

“I know it very well my friend. And believe me, your skills are as precious as all of ours. I’m sure you’ll get this chance soon.”

Another one that was easy to manipulate. Thor’s motivations were never hard to decipher, and it was shamefully easy to turn it against him. It was as simple as telling him what he wanted to hear, despite how unrealistic it was. The man wearing an entire half of his face as a scar was really unlikely to ever get his chance.

His abilities were amazing, but only useful in battle. Out of the arena, there wasn’t much of a room for such skills. Real battles had become somewhat of a myth, in a society where everything was solved with talking, targeted murders, and manipulations of all kinds… If men loved spending time training and fighting, hence the arena, most of them had never even known a real combat situation in their life.

Thor would never get his chance to shine. But his burning hopes made him smile with satisfaction to Odin, and leave the room with a happy face that inspired pity. It was sad, really…

“Freya my dear, I’m sorry you had to bother yourself with assisting to these… inconveniences.” The leader spoke to the woman who mostly endured this meeting indeed. Odin could know how to use of his charms on her, and it was just revolting how she fell in head first. This woman should really get some pride… “And I wouldn’t want to bother you any further with such a shameful spectacle. May I spare you this discomfort?”

“I appreciate your attention. Besides, I wouldn’t bother you either with my unwanted presence.” She giggled, but with a little tone that left a doubt float regarding any irony.

“Your presence is never unwanted. It will even soon be desired again.”

It made Fenrir want to throw up. Maybe did Odin actually feel like he was being courteous and seducing, but his insisting stare meant less honorable subtext. He may look or sound charming, but this was a mask hiding his ugliness. Freya herself only replied with a little smile, like she understood this was no romantic moment he talked about. But again, she didn’t put him back to his place, or even sent a message with her body language. She just… bowed, and walked out as well.

It was a shame, because like dragons, Fenrir didn’t share the opinions of his peers about women. He thought them to hold a great potential. Maybe not in men’s way, but a strength of their own. A different power, but as important as the males’. They were masters of subtlety, of emotion reading, who could do miracles with men when in symbiosis. A teaching he had well kept in mind since the days in his youth he spent in Southenheim.

Freya didn’t illustrate this force and inspiration. She was submitted, a pet. Worse than the other leaders, because in his eyes, she had sold her people to the other cities. Her attitude and behavior gave reasons to all those who considered her and her city as living, usable merchandise. How could Fenrir even feel pity to someone who accepted her fate and became a docile toy? All it inspired him was a sigh of despair when she exited.

“You really believe I’d feel anything about all that, don’t you?” Fenrir didn’t let the silence build. Silence itself could be a weapon for Odin.

“I don’t believe. I know.”

“I already told you, I am not a problem of yours. You can’t hurt me, and I don’t intend to mess with your business. I’d appreciate if you stopped trying, when I haven’t done anything wrong. Because that’s not very productive.”

“You do believe you did nothing wrong?” Odin leant forward and rose the voice a bit. With no witness around, he dropped the mask. He knew there was no point in acting when the only audience saw through his game. “I gave you a chance to prove you were worthy. And you come back with the most disappointing news.”

“I did everything I was supposed to.”

“Except maybe defending the young man you were supposed to watch after! You fled while you should have fought!”

“I haven’t fled. I was taken away from the battle and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Half a truth made a pretty safe lie. He could have intervened and chose to let it happen instead. But it wasn’t like Odin could know the details.

“Really, that’s the best excuse you can come up with? What could have possibly taken you away from your duty? What in the island is able to do such thing?”

“The white shadow. It was there. And the second after, I was kilometers away.”

Rule number one with this man, always keep the most valuable information for the last. It was good to surprise him, to destabilize him. Fenrir could read that he wanted to keep scolding him, telling him how miserable he was. But the curiosity was stronger.

“The white shadow is just a story. It isn’t real.”

“Unreal it is. But it was there.” Fenrir replied with a little satisfaction, though holding back the smile that itched him. “Now think of it. Have you really decided to hurt me by sending Loki deal with this problem? Or was I letting you send a fool to his fate, to reveal this little info in private? You get to watch remotely, and let an idiot risk his life for you. And best of all, you won’t be the one to blame in case of bad turn...”

Checkmate. Odin couldn’t prove any betrayal, and couldn’t refute his saying. Despite being a tyrant, he wasn’t the kind to act on only suppositions. And best of all, a genuine doubt remained on who dominated who. Who hurt the other the most. Fenrir had well thought his speech during the kilometers he walked to get home. And he knew Odin’s ways of thinking. He was prepared.

“You think this could turn bad?”

“I think it will.”

Odin took a deep breath, forced to admit the choice was strategically wise. But he was still boiling, knowing not everything was said.

“If you’re hiding something from me, remember I can always break that skull…” he whispered threateningly.

“Yeah, the same skull your own rules force me to carry… You’ll have to find me another, I don’t care. As for the situation, it’s exactly what I said. There is a man, out there, that killed that shifter. A dangerous man. The white shadow itself intervened to stop me from killing him. But if you underestimate what I’m telling you, well… that’s on you.”

“Just get out.” Odin finally spat. He obviously sensed that he missed something. And that bothered him deeply, to Fenrir’s joy. “You stay out of this story. You do whatever you please, but make yourself forgotten for a while. You brought enough attention on me already.”

“And I would hate to hurt your glorious image.”

Maybe did he push it a bit far there. Being a pain in Odin’s back was never a riskless game. And if anything in this sort of game, one had to be careful not to outrage the ruler of this island. Because a man like him was capable of the worst… Fenrir sensed he walked on a thin edge with that commentary, even before Odin opened the mouth.

“You may have acquired the annoying combined status of a pariah and an untouchable, but never forget who you’re talking to. No one is ever out of reach to me. And you better start learning to be grateful I even allow you to live.”

Fenrir didn’t reply to this. True it was burning his lips to correct him, to make him admit he condemned him to live. But there was no point in fueling his rage when Odin got into such state, no matter right it was.

The great ruler was not known for his fairness or compassion, despite the appearances. Every act had a motivation with him. And not always reasonable ones. Fenrir didn’t care much about living, but he wouldn’t want Odin to have the pleasure to cause his death. It was out of question.

Besides, he had a better place to be, and more interesting concerns that Odin’s endless quest of keeping power on others. A spectacle he didn’t want to miss, and that made him feel alive for the first time in years. Something that disturbed the order in place…

“My apologies. I’ll make myself forgotten as you command.” Fenrir bowed in a fake amend. Knowing it was better not to tempt evil, it was time for him to depart too. “But I think a great ruler like you shouldn’t mind so much about someone as unimportant as me. Father.”

“If only you could understand that in the big game of life, no one can choose to be unimportant, son.”