Chenzhou was still on the fence about the Small Council when the meeting ended. The last Small Council had been a necessity during the last war, but it also had problems that the rest of the court seemed eager to overlook.
It had allowed them to split the Crimson Army more effectively, with separate commands that could act independently in Chenzhou's absence, but that ability, while it had saved them on several occasions, had also put them in several dangerous ones when someone on the council went rogue and made decisions without considering what the rest of the command was doing. Chenzhou had spent a significant amount of time managing the members of the Small Council instead of the Crimson Army and had to rotate out several members before they'd managed to find a successful balance.
It had been incredibly effective after that, allowing them to fight a war on two fronts in sync with one another, with minimal communication between the two that could be interrupted by the tribes.
There'd also been significant pushback when it came time to disband the Small Council. The argument of several members was that they could continue to assist Chenzhou with leadership and command duties while the Camelia was at peace, but Chenzhou had been wary of installing another permanent level of authority when the estate already had the court and its offices, and the Crimson Army that had a dozen different authority levels in itself. Chenzhou was less worried about losing his own authority than he was about putting enough out there to start seeing the power struggles the capital did.
They might have made more sense when he was still sick, but now that he was healthy and he had Eirian, it made even less sense.
But could he say no if the entire court wanted it?
Chenzhou ruled the Camelia. It was his by birth, by blood, by right, but he had learned enough of the truth of power to know that if he lost the support of the court, it would make the situation incredibly dangerous. Lone rulers were usually called tyrants, and that was not what Chenzhou wanted to be. On the contrary, too many rulers were warring factions more concerned with their struggles than the people they were supposed to be leading.
Just like the tribes he'd spent his entire life fighting.
That was not an existence he wanted for his people.
***
It had been a long time since Yuze had been in the field.
Probably too long for him to jump right back in the way he had, but needs must.
Yuze had always enjoyed losing himself in his roles when he was undercover. The rush of adrenaline that came with moving through the world like a living ghost. Watching and learning without anyone else realizing he was there.
When he was younger, he'd been prideful about his abilities and taken risks he couldn't imagine taking now.
There's even been a foolish period, albeit a short one, where he and Chenzhou had dreams of dying together in battle and glory.
Thank the rock, they'd never been stupid enough to actually do it. They'd have missed out on so much because they were young and impulsive and couldn't imagine what would come next could be better than that moment.
His teacher would have had something to say if he'd lived long enough to see Yuze realizing he'd been right about most of what he'd spent so many years trying to teach a sullen child who'd refused to learn.
The old man would be having a great laugh at his expense for sure.
And then he'd remind Yuze not to stress too much about not being able to do something the same way he'd done it before.
Change is constant and unyielding, he'd always said, like the sun that always rose in the morning and the stars that always glittered at night.
Those stars fill the sky now as Yuze sits among the wheat stalks that cover most of the prairie land.
It's been so long since he was able to just sit out here and enjoy the silence. The wind through the stalks and the still sky.
It's the only place he's ever felt at peace. Where he can let go of every worry, every concern, every item on his long, ever-growing list of things he needs to do.
A simpler world for just a moment.
Unlike most of the Camelia, Yuze had spent some part of his life living in the borderlands. The travels with his teacher had given him more experience than most with the lifestyle that existed in the borderlands and had shown him some of the beauty that was often forgotten in the wake of conflict.
In another life, he might have been a farmer. It was the farthest from what he was now that he could think of. Spending his days rising with the sun and working the fields with dirt under his nails.
Yuze has had far more blood under his nails than dirt in his life, and he's pretty sure that doesn't make him a good person.
Maybe that's why he's supposed to be alone. His stupid little crush on Fox aside, Yuze is not stupid enough to do something he's already failed at. Maybe when this war is over, he'll walk away.
Chenzhou has support now. And Eirian can do far more than Yuze ever could.
They even have Mingzhe, and Finn is starting to grow up, taking ownership of the investigation in the Vault. And Marian and Li are always be there, holding strong in the shadows.
Yuze could walk off into the wheat and vanish, and Chenzhou and the Camelia would be fine.
It's tempting.
A simple, quiet life.
But he can't bring himself to take that first step.
He wants to see Chenzhou again. He wants to listen to Eirian complain about the court and slip Brendan candy when Chenzhou and Marian aren't looking.
He wants to see which one of them, Chenzou, Eirian, and Mingzhe, finally figures out what they're doing. Yuze spent less time with Akari when they were actually married.
He looks down from the sky when he hears the wheat shift.
It takes a minute for his eyes to adapt and make out the figure walking towards him.
Fox emerges from the darkness, moonlight glinting off the red and white of his mask.
The relief is sharp. Yuze only took the time to stop here to wait for him and spent the entire time spiraling about his own existence.
~ tbc