Excerpt: In the Eyes of the Conquered (working title)

"GENTLEMEN! Enough!"

The exchanges ceased at once, and both retook their seats.

"I don't think you all understand the gravity of this situation. I believe that Aertharon is right. Had we not assumed that we above all have the right to destroy the lives of others, this would not have happened. We demanded much of the lands, and we pushed back the sea to take even more that we were not entitled to. And what has this brought us? The wrath of Nature Herself. The seas we pushed back have only bucked back what we ourselves fed into it."

The silence that rang once Thaleios was finished was louder than the shouting match that rang a few minutes before.

"If I might, Grand Marshal," a smaller, quiet man spoke up from his seat to the Grand Marshal's left. As Thaleios nodded, he stood up. "I think the only course of action is the one that Aertharon has suggested. We must evacuate all that we can and move not only ourselves, but everyone we can get to follow us, and move inland. If we do not, then I believe that this entire sector will be lost to the sea. By holding it back as much as we have, we have only increased the wrath of the waters, the Sea, and very likely the Sisters themselves." No one spoke when he finished, so he went on. "The more we do, the more it will rebound. I am shocked, as all of you are mages in at least potential, have not realized this. We may tinker with life and land, but there are some things that we simply cannot and should not control. Look around. The lives of many of the races now depend on things only we can provide beacause of what we have done to them - the alterations on many of the experimental specimens have resulted in matings of the same and three new races have sprung up as a result of those matings.

"Stop and think about it. We are not Gods. We are mortal. Just as mortal as anything that has marched over the Terras."

He sat down, ignoring the murderous glares of three of the six, as well as the nods of the other two.

Without asking for recognition of the Floor, one of the others stood up. Large, thick of hair and bright of eye, Clauth'ne was one of the "old ways". "And I think we are all fools. We /are/ Gods. We cannot be killed by flood, famine, or otherwise. We shaped this world. We came to it by blood rights. We created life, altered it, and altered both land and sea. Let it come to try to crush us all and we will push it back again! Damned be to the Sisters and their Sea! If we have to, all we need do is burn it so there is nothing left of it."

A gasp rippled through the Council as he sat down.

"Do you realize the implications of such an action?" came the quiet voice of the second man to speak.