Saften Falls

Chapter 1: Author’s Prologue

This was a story that came to me in a vision. Quite literally. I was at work one
day, slightly phased out as most retail workers are but never admit too, and was ap-
proached by a figure within my head. The vision looked like a bad B-movie effect, but I
was sure that beaming visions into people’s heads still wasn’t possible at this point so I
went along with it.

The lady looked like a samurai with her long, white robes and thin demeanor.
She had a bit of an exaggerated slouch to her neck, but otherwise looked rather human
in appearance. She kept calling to me, over and over, slowly taking over my eyesight
with her ghostly form as well as the purple, radiating background that followed behind
her.

She started monologuing about her alternate dimension that she apparently
came from. I only caught bits and pieces of it because I was addressing the far more
pressing issue of already listening to an annoying lady in my dimension rant on about
how she wanted her groceries bagged. From what I could tell, the samurai lady came
from an alternate planet where most of the world was tiny islands. She then laid a rea-
son about how I was chosen randomly or something and she was sending this story
out to several different worlds so that “her species’ mistakes shan’t be repeated.” In
hindsight, I’m not too upset that I missed her dialogue; it was all a bunch of posh crap
anyways.

After being ridiculed by my boss for zoning out at register and not accepting my
excuse, I was sent to other work duties. There, the visions only got worse. She kept
asking of me that I recount her texts, ones that described the change in her world, an
“epic” that “spanned her entire lifetime.” One that she had “painstakingly translated
into your modern dialect.” I had already foolishly agreed to her proposition earlier, so I
guess she assumed that my next answer would be yes. Text began to appear in my vi-
sion. It looked as if it was formatted to fit a page, like someone had scanned a page of
a novel from a printer into my eyeholes. I tried to rub my eyes in the desperate hope
that they would fade or smudge or whatever, but no such thing occurred. As I suspect-
ed, the words were all in my head.

But the part that caused me to doubt myself once again was what the words ac-
tually displayed. They seemed to flicker and glitch every once in a while as I walked
around, changing to a completely different format, text style and language. They almost
looked more like lines going up and down with vertical morse code upon it.

I didn’t dare tell anyone about this. A $60 dollar trip to the doctor’s office was
not something I wanted to do right now, especially when my day off was tomorrow. The
day was made increasingly difficult with every passing moment, but I managed to
somehow finish my shift despite everything.

Once I had made my way home, the words of the first page were practically
burned into my retinas. Like, if someone were to look at a lamp for too long and then
start seeing colors afterwards, that’s how they seemed. I basically had gotten used to
them at this point and I wanted to set my attention to other things.

Saften Falls 2

I sat down in my tiny chair in my tiny room and gazed tiredly upon my computer
screen (also tiny). The notes app was open, and a blank page of white filled the entire
screen. It was going to be where my new epic short story, “Amish Man” (an Amish su-
perhero! What’s not to love?) would be told. But, apparently the girl inside my head had
a different idea of where tonight would go.

I focused my vision and words begun to appear on the page like some sort of
VR simulation. They weren’t actually there, but she must have changed my vision to
display them or something. Jeez, this lady really wants me to write this stuff down,
huh? I tried typing something else on the page, but the words she laid out overlapped
them. It wasn’t until I accepted defeat and actually began to type the words that they
began to disappear. It was only about a chapter’s worth of content, but at least it was
decently interesting in my opinion.

Once the words in my head finally faded away as I constructed the last para-
graph, I took some time to actually properly read what I had just written. It certainly
surprised me.

“What the hell? the good guys win by the first chapter? What kinda stuff are they
writing in that dimension?” I genuinely said this all aloud. Because that’s exactly what
happened. The evil, tyrannical king dies. Spoilers, I guess.

A few hours passed, and she reached out to me again in my head. Inserting
more words within my brain. I sighed and continued to type what she wrote. Another
chapter down. This annoyance continued on for 20 full chapters, but as I wrote, the
annoyance faded. I began to realize just how much potential this story had. I’ll be hon-
est, I didn’t really get everything that was going on in it, but if she could only send me
this story with the intent that others would read it… Well, you bet your ass I’m going to
make a bunch of money off of it! It’s a story where the good guys win and the rest of
the story is them fixing everything! That’s gotta be an untapped niche somewhere,
right?

When there was a concept I didn’t immediately understand, it was as if she

knew that I didn’t instantaneously, blasting my head with the appropriate context for
everything in the world. Every location, empire, kingdom, river, tiny off-shore island,
what have you! By the end, I felt like I knew more about this alternate earth’s geogra-
phy and biology than I did my own.

Everything you read beyond this chapter, with the exception of the expertly-
crafted footnotes (And the chapter titles), is written by the little lady inside my head.
Well, I technically wrote it because I actually exist in this dimension, but she thought it
up. Reading those sentences back aloud I realize just how crazy I probably sound right
now, but I swear it’s all true.

The best (only) advantage to all of this is that that bitch can’t copyright anything
I take from her. What’s she gonna do? Call an inter-dimensional lawyer? Yeah, I didn’t
think so.

So... yeah. Enjoy the book, I guess? I still don’t really get the grander point of it,
but I’m sure someone will.

Saften Falls 3

UPDATE:

I got fired from my job. You can probably guess why. A lady no one else can see
randomly messing with my vision is not exactly a valid excuse for anything other than
insanity. Now that I think about it, I probably should have said I was insane. Do insane
people actually do that? Never mind. The point is: this book is all I have left.

Go ahead. Laugh. I know you want to. I won’t even judge you for laughing… Ok
I might judge you a bit. This is America after all, I can do whatever I want. Fuck you.

UPDATE 2:

It was only after re-reading this book a few times that I realized a lot of translat-
ed names are super weird and make very little sense. To rectify this, I personally
changed all of the names to things that would make more sense. You can thank me
later. Now read the damn book.

Saften Falls 4

The REAL Chapter 1: Revolution

Whitaker exited the mist chamber, purple clouds of gaseous sparkles cascading
the washroom. Even though no one was watching, he was imagining his exit from the
chamber as if it was from an insect’s perspective, his powerful and imposing body
stepping into frame.

The King of Saften then swiped his personalized towel off of the rack, swinging
it over his shoulders. He walked in front of his grand reflective mirror, gazing upon his
reflection longingly as he stood in the nude. Despite his best efforts, his body was be-
coming lame. The once muscle and grit of his hairy chest had long since passed.

He was getting old. That was the first thought on his mind at least, but he knew
that he had to stay in power as his most desired son was still far too young to inherit
such a position at the young age of twenty. Other than a younger one at the age of 18,
he had no other rightful heirs to his kingdom. He cursed himself silently for waiting so
long, especially since his skin was beginning to peel just days after waxing. It was a
surefire sign that retirement was due for him.

He walked outside to the bow1 of his balcony, one of eight on the castle and his
personal favorite. From there, one could see almost the entirety of Saften. From the
Highlands to the Sticks.2 His gaze steeled as he witnessed smoke rising from a High-
land sector, a surefire sign of the revolt that had persisted for 30 suns and 31 grays.
Today marked the 31st sun, and the revolt still seemed to be going strong. Unusual, to
say the least.

Whitaker, despite no one directly viewing him once again, refused to let his emo-
tions surface. This was the closest that the revolt had ever gotten to the Grandlands, a
worrying revelation. But he assured himself that they would not get any farther.

Since the wind had mostly dried him off, he retreated back to his mist chamber
and properly clothed himself. He donned his 1:3/2:5 attire3 and accelerated his trek
down to the main hall. He was unsure why he was rushing. Today was supposed to be
one of relaxation, why did such an anxious and uneasy feeling befall him?

He was already two-thirds of the way there when he realized that he was wear-
ing the incorrect robes. Today was actually a phase 1:3/2:6 day, and yet he was a
phase behind, still embracing the past. He stopped in place but did not attempt to
make his way back up to the mist chamber. It would just be a waste of time at this
point.

Reluctantly conceding, Whitaker continued his journey down the east steps until
finally reaching the main deck. At the lead table sat his eldest son, Traden. He was

1Yeah, apparently most fancy-schmancy buildings in this world are structured after old-timey
boats? Even if they’re not set to sail anywhere. Weird.
2What kind of goober-ass name is sticks? It means the poor area far away from the castle. I’m
guessing the area is made of sticks?
3 Just trust me on that weird jumble of nonsense numbers. I’ll explain it later I promise.
Saften Falls 5

zoned out, slouching in his designated chair as he lazily listened to whatever his friends
were telling him via sound wave.4

Whitaker wanted to chastise his son for his improper posture and for using the
main meal table as if it were any other. But he understood that his son was probably
under a lot of stress at the moment due to the state of the kingdom.

“Traden.”

Whitaker’s son didn’t respond. The truth was, he could hear his father perfectly
fine yet chose to ignore him.

“Traden, your father is speaking to you.”

With a sigh, the 20-year-old dipped his fingers into a small cup of sand placed
on the table. He then rubbed it onto his forehead as a makeshift way to temporarily dull
the connection so that he could hear his father better.

“Yeah?” Traden said with irreverence in his tone.

“Traden, where is your brother?” Whitaker asked, ignoring his son’s impolite-
ness.

“I dunno.” Traden shrugged his shoulders and turned his head away from his fa-
ther. “Probably off somewhere masturbating.” He then chuckled at his own response.

“Traden, at the very least you will look at me when you talk to me.” Whitaker
said with growing impatience, willing to look past the rude comment about his brother.
“That is the only way you’ll receive respect in this world.”

Traden sucked his teeth in response. He had long grown sick of his aging father
berating him with made-up lessons. Part of him still felt like he was being treated like a
child.

“Fa, I don’t know where he went, ok?” Traden was still looking away. “He could
be anywhere. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was down there in the streets rioting
along with the cavity-spawn5 since he likes them so much.”

That was enough for Whitaker to lose his patience with his son.

“Now listen here. Your brother would never stoop to such a level of impropriety.
He may be plagued with temporary moments of weakness, but at this rate he’d grow to
be a far better leader than you ever would.”

That got Traden to turn around, his face only appearing hurt for a moment be-
fore being overtaken by anger. His face twitched to a sneer about twice. “Well, father, if
you must know, your ‘better leader’ is actually hiding in a bunker below deck. He hon-
estly thinks that these pitiful revolts will be enough to topple you. He is very clearly un-
aware of just how much influence and power we possess. What allies we share with
neighboring kingdoms! How our affluent nature keeps this city afloat!” He vocalized it
as if one of his more intelligent friends had just explained to him how support struc-
tures worked.

But Whitaker was far past listening. He had gotten what he wanted out of
Traden, which was the true location of his youngest born. Much to his eldest son’s an-
noyance, he turned his head and walked towards the nearest door that could bring him

4 Basically magic version of the internet that lets people tune in to random sound waves and
talk to each other without any extra tech. Kinda baller.
5 Pretty weak-ass racial slur, if I’m being honest.
Saften Falls 6

to the bunker room. Traden pretended not to care, rubbing the sand off of his forehead
and resuming his frequency with his friends.

It was a slow journey down the uneven stairs that led to below deck. Whitaker
had only ever journeyed down here once before as a child, noting that the place had
not changed a single bit. He recalled his own father’s words, discouraging him from
venturing downward due to its unsanitary nature. This was where the maintenance
workers lived, no place for a Richard. He began to regret never telling his youngest son
the same lesson he learned from his late father.

He fumbled slightly as one of the rotted planks nearly cracked under his weight.
He grunted, cursing the maintenance workers under his breath for not being competent
enough at the one job they had to do.

The bunkers felt like a maze. That was the point, after all, but Whitaker found it
to be quite the nuisance as he found himself in more dead ends than he cared to ad-
mit. Where were the workers when you needed them? All of them were required to
know the layout of this place so he did not have to!

It was becoming increasingly difficult to see as he ventured deeper. He had for-

gotten to charge his lantern properly6 before venturing below deck, and its brightness
was waning. He could no longer see his own feet from where he was holding the
lantern and that would prove to be a mistake as he nearly tripped over out-of-sight
rubble.

He wanted to turn back, desperately, but he was beginning to think he would

not be able to make the journey with his depleted battery. He was lost and confused,
unaware that such a simple mistake was about to be his downfall.

“Baler! Baler, where are you!?” He shouted loudly, hearing his voice echo down
the narrow halls. Unbeknownst to him, he had just given his position away to more
than just his son.

Without warning, a light ignited nearby, drawing his attention with a quick turn of
the head. The flame possessed a green hue, and now Whitaker knew he was in trouble.
The flame, like most snapfire, was connected to the slender index finger of a Sinf.7

With a self-confident expression, the Sinf woman clicked her tongue three times,
and then quickly extinguished her flame. Now, once again, the King of Saften was left
to his ever-diminishing lantern as he heard the soft pitter-patter of her bare feet running
in an unclear direction away from him.

He too extinguished his light as he began to make a run for it. He couldn’t tell
where he was going, nor did he particularly care. The only thing he could do now was
try to hide from the assassins. The king understood now that he had made a grave tac-
tical mistake.

Whitaker’s attempts to escape ultimately left him more discombobulated as he

bumped and tripped in his blindness. He paused briefly to catch his breath. Despite his

6Despite being a more whimsical society with no reliance on advanced tech, the king some-
how already has access to solar panel lanterns? Christ, that’s attainable in my world and I can’t
even get a good one!
7 They’re a more homogenous nation up north with greater magical aptitude due to their cul-
ture. In fact, the lady who sent me this story was a Sinf, so she says. The power at display here
is snapfire, pretty self-explanatory how that’s summoned.
Saften Falls 7

fighting prowess, his running stamina was less-than-ideal. His situation was only made
worse when another snapfire was lit nearby.

Acknowledging he was cornered, Whitaker did not bother to continue running.

He could hear his heavy breathing echoing the corridors, and he was sure that every
one of his assailants could as well.

After a few moments of relative silence, another green fire snapped into exis-
tence within the darkness. Then another two. And another five. Pretty soon, there were
enough snapfires to light the entire corridor relative to Whitaker.

What followed was an uncomfortable staring contest, at least for the king. The
Sinf warriors all shared the same illuminated, determined face as they silently glared
upon Whitaker’s apprehensive face. He recognized a member on the far right as one of
the common ambassadors he had travel banned.

“So, I take it you trappers are here to kill me, then?” He asked, trying to hide and
redirect his fear.

“I don’t believe it has to get to that point.” A gruff voice said from one of the
snaking paths. It was one Whitaker didn’t recognize, but once he saw who the voice
was attached to, he understood this was far more than an average assault from below
deck.

It belonged to Jen Erik, the fearsome leader of the Tusk-Saftens. She walked
into view with a hulking stride, carrying somebody who was still somewhat obscured in
the darkness.

“We caught you with your pants down,8 king. It’s time to give it up.” Even though
she was several feet away, the king noted just how massive she was in person. Easily
half a head taller than he was.9

“I will not submit to the likes of you. I’d rather die than admit defeat.”

Jen had been made aware of this tactic, he was trying to Martyr himself. He’d
rather face no consequences, thankfully, she had come prepared for such a response.
Bringing the captured person within her clutches into the light, the king was made
acutely aware of what the stakes were.

Held by his collar with her large hand was his son, Baler. He looked up at his fa-
ther, terrified as any coddled young adult would be. Jen drew her shortblade and
placed it up to Baler’s neck.

“Surrender now, for the sake of your own son.”

“Your savagery knows no limits, traitors.” Whitaker said, showing no remorse.

“You Tusks were finally made equal and yet you still choose to rebel against the only
order you’ve ever known.”

“Equal?” One of the lankier Sinfs spoke up, drawing her blade with her free
hand. He recognized her as the first person to discover him down here. But Jen calmed
her down. “All in due time, Valor-Sinf. We mustn’t get distracted from our goal.”

8I’m assuming this sounds way more badass in it’s original Saften language but I honestly
can’t think of a better way to word it.
9 That’s really saying something because as far as I can tell Whitaker seems to be six and a half
feet tall.
Saften Falls 8

Whitaker snorted. “Look at you animals. Without me you would just bicker in
your squalor! And regardless, you’re only where you are because of the Saftens!”

Surprisingly, the first person to speak up was his own son. “Dad, please! Stop
this! They’re going to kill me if you don’t surrender now!”

“It’s true, king.” Valor-Sinf spoke up once more. “You’re outnumbered and
weapon-less. Save your breath for the community trial.”

“Community trial? The people love me! My fellow associates would never allow
such injustice to occur! This is absurd!” He was biding his time, and Jen could tell. She
was following his eyes as they quickly darted to a slight opening in the Sinf defenses.

“Don’t try it, please,” Jen thought to herself. But he had clearly made up his
mind far earlier.

It all occurred in an instant. Whitaker made a break for it and was quickly met
with Jen’s shortblade to his head. Acting out of instinct, she tossed it at him. It spun in
a straight line before embedding itself within the king’s left eye blade-first. His body
stuttered for a bit in place before collapsing onto the floor with a splatter of blood on
the bricks.

The entirety of the below deck was dead silent afterwards. Several Sinfs traded
looks between themselves and Jen. Everyone needed a few seconds to process what
had just unfolded.

“We did it… By the sun and moon, we did it.” Valor-Sinf was the one to break
the silence. “The King of Saften is dead.”

It finally hit Jen as to what this could mean. The fight that had been going on for
her entire life might be finally over. All the revolts she had led. All the strategies she had
created. All the training that went into being a leader of the Tusk-Saftens.

She then realized what this meant for that poor, cowering man in her grasp. He
had just watched Jen murder his father in cold blood. She let him go and he fell to his
knees, speechless. Baler’s face was hidden from her, but she assumed it was not one
of happiness.

“Um… I’m sorry about what I did. But it had to be done.” She spoke softly to the
scared son, justifying her actions.

There was another long bout of silence.

“It-it’s okay. I understand.” That was certainly an unexpected response, although

part of Jen assumed he said it out of fear. Regardless, now was not the time to get
caught up in the intricacies.

“Kobo-Sinf, Beep-Sinf;10 Keep the son under your watch. This plan may not
have gotten much easier, but the king’s death does give us the momentary advantage
of fear that we can use towards our victory.” Jen then turned to face the rest of her
squad. “Stick to pairs and start securing rooms. Kill as few as possible. Valor, you’re
with me.”

The thin sinf nodded wordlessly and they all split up. Jen began barreling down
the halls at top speed, time being of the essence for her. Valor-Sinf, in contrast, was
trying her best to keep up.

10 Holy shit what a name. I refuse to change this one.

Saften Falls 9

“What did you mean back there about a momentary advantage?” Valor-Sinf
asked as Jen made several sharp turns without warning. “Isn’t the king being dead, y’-
know, a good thing forever?”

“I wish it were that simple, Valor. But once the highlanders hear about the king’s
demise it will make this revolution far more violent than it had to be, further reinforcing
their hatred towards us.”

They were already at the stairs that exited the below-deck bunkers. The ascen-
sion towards the main hall began with haste.

“So what? These people already hate you. A few more bad optics isn’t going to
do any extra harm.”

“Can we talk about this at another time, Valor?” Jen asked, preparing to bust the
door to the main hall. She wanted to focus on the mission, but part of her knew that
she simply did not have satisfying answer to her ally’s inquiry. Thankfully, Valor-Sinf
agreed and the two of them rammed into the scene where a defenseless Traden nearly
fell out of his chair in surprise.

“Ack! What!? Wh-where’s my father?” He scrambled about as he tried to cancel

the sound wave between him and his buddies. Valor-Sinf pulled her blade out but Jen
stopped her with a calm hand, approaching the other king’s son weaponless, yet still
adopting an air of intimidation in her stride.

“Where’s my father?” He repeated with a more demanding tone, although the

hint of fear in his voice told them that he may already be assuming the worst. Jen,
while maintaining her frightening aura on the outside, was racking her brain for the
proper response as her imposing figure stood over him. Should she tell him of his fa-
ther’s demise in hopes that he would surrender due to lack of morale, or would the
news only further empower him? Such doubtful thoughts plagued her brain constantly.

But Valor-Sinf was all too eager to break the news. “The old fool is dead. Your
reign of oppression is over, Richard.” Jen turned to shoot her associate a nasty look,
but quickly dismissed it as this was no time for infighting. Better to focus her attention
on the unsure response of her adversary.

Traden’s face was that of shock when Jen returned her gaze to him, his eyes
locked on nothing in particular. But his face quickly changed to that of brutal anger,
grabbing the nearest Temb knife.11

He swung at her, the blade just barely scraping her arm before she retaliated
with a brutal side kick to his lower rib. He fell to the ground, but he was not downed
completely; bringing himself back into the fight with an exasperated grunt. His knife
had long since been discarded, but he did not care. The adrenaline was coursing
through his veins.

Traden engaged Jen in a rather awkward tussle, grabbing at whatever part of

her that he could in a desperate attempt to harm her in any way possible. But she
overpowered him once more, throwing him to the ground while still keeping her hand
on his shirt.

She blinded him by lifting his shirt in such a way that it obscured his vision.
Traden was then lined up perfectly on the ground for Jen to kick him in the face. He

11The temb is an animal with a really tough hide. Apparently it’s really fancy to leave the skin
on when it’s being cooked and you need a fat-ass knife to cut through it.
Saften Falls 10

squirmed to protect himself from another boot only to be decked in the face a few
times by the Tusk-Saften warrior’s large fist.

The blows to his face left him stunned, but Jen delivered another two powerful
kicks to his face out of a mix of anger and adrenaline. He was thoroughly beaten into
submission, eyes half-open and staring into nothingness as he faded in and out of
consciousness.

He hadn’t properly disconnected with his friends, their words of confusion echo-
ing in his head like nexu.12 Traden was then left on the floor as Jen and Valor-Sinf
moved deeper into the ship, clearing room after room.13

“So, you tensed up and let me spill the beans, what’s up with that?” The Sinf
asked.

“Hm?”

“Your whole speech that you had planned to try and convince those loyal to the
king to switch sides? You thought the king’s son was too much of an idiot to hear it or
something?”

Jen paused for a moment. “I don’t think he would have listened, he seemed too
motivated to find out what happened to his father. What happened would have been
the outcome regardless.

“I understand that, to an extent. But did you have to kick him half to death and
leave him lying one the floor like that? If he even survives he’ll be eager to try and re-
claim the throne at any means necessary.”

“I know.” Jen said nothing further on the matter. It would be pointless to try and
justify her violence towards him, and neither of them had the time to make amends
since they were on a rather tight schedule. The Tusk-Saften leader hoped that the next
part of her plan went smoothly, since it would be the determining factor on how the fu-
ture of the resistance played out.

The two of them now stood in front of the Hall of Moving Thought. “Aiv-yu14 be
damned, it is a real place.”

The stories Jen and Valor-Sinf had heard of this place never got past the door
itself. Very few people had ever entered, and apparently very few left either. Hypotheti-
cally, it was the location of the thought leaders of Saften. People who theorized out-
comes of political decisions and fed them to the king directly at his request. Valor-Sinf
found it amusing that King Richard probably died because he never considered asking
these guys about a potential attack from below deck and was not shy about saying it
aloud.

12A type of creature that echoes random sounds they hear with certain vibrations to make the
noise appear like it is coming from within your ear. Apparently used to ward off predators al-
though it just sounds inconveniencing.
13To me, this sounds like they are killing everyone in the ship, but as far as I can tell, this is
them making sure the rooms are empty. (at least I hope it means that it’s the only interpretation
that really makes sense.)
14Current leader of the Catchen islands, which is overseen by the Sinfs. Treated like a god,
but… y’know… casually so.
Saften Falls 11

But Jen still had her focus locked in on the door. It was now or never, and with-
out warning, she chose now. She opened the door with a mighty kick, parting it wide to
reveal a long room full of men sitting at a table roughly proportional to the length of the
area.

The two warriors were immediately met with the foul smell of cheap paper.15 An
all-too-familiar scent for Jen. Stacks upon stacks of it littered each corner of the room,
further cramping the already tight space the place offered.

The Tusk-Saften leader gazed over the people’s faces. Some were full of sur-
prise, some contained fear. But Jen noticed that the man at the very end of the table
was the only one with a look of interest on his face. Perhaps he was sympathetic to her
plight? Although it was far more likely that he was simply an agent of whoever held the
potential for most power, as these people often were. Jen hoped it to be the former.

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid this meeting is over.” Valor-Sinf said with sarcasm-laden
confidence.

“We were just about to leave, actually!” One of the closer men said with ner-
vousness in his voice. He shifted in his seat however something compelled him to re-
sume his previous composure and calm himself. The room was dead silent. All eyes
were on Jen, even Valor-Sinf’s.

“So, I take it you people are the King’s lead thought movers?” Jen said, taking a
walk forward to survey the area better and close the distance between herself and the
man of interest. And then, the man spoke.

“I’d like to think we are.” His voice was gravely, yet oddly calm. “I take it you are
the Tusk-Saften leader we’ve heard so much about?”

“You have heard much of me? That’s good to know. That means part of my goal
is working as intended.” Jen was trying her best to remain intimidating in front of a man
whom she found oddly disturbing. “News must spread fast in these parts. Are you fa-
miliar with what happened to the king?”

The shocked reactions of the table members said more than a thousand words
could. Jen was really pushing her luck by telling a whole room about the king’s death,
but she felt like this was different than the Traden situation. At least, she prayed it was.
However what nearly said a million words all written on red flags was the man at the
end of the table’s reaction of morbid fascination to the reveal.

The man then stood up and made his way towards where Jen now stood in the
middle of the room. As he approached, Jen picked up that he was a source of the
cheap paper stench. He then stopped in front of the hulking woman and extended his
wrists outwards in a show of mutual respect.16

That was one of the outcomes Jen expected, but it was pretty low on the prob-
ability list for her. She almost recoiled as he did it, expecting him to have a hidden

15
Apparently, the most common plant used for manufacturing paper always smells like ass no
matter what you do to it.
16It’s a handshake, but more vulnerable. Like showing a police officer your wrists to have
handcuffs placed on them. I get that handshakes are usually supposed to be for peace, but
how is someone supposed to conceal a gun without their other hand or partake in the great
human tradition of crossing your fingers behind your back?
Saften Falls 12

blade up his sleeve. Not wanting to appear frightened, she met his hands with her own
and accepted his respectful gesture.

“My name is Mai.” He started, accompanied with a bowed head. “I look forward
to working close with you over the coming years, Ms. Erik. I can see to it that we will
have a good relationship.” Both Jen and Valor-Sinf were caught off-guard by him
knowing her full name, Mai recognized this quickly. “do not fret Ms. Erik and Ms. Valor-
Sinf, it is my job to know these things in better preparation for what is to come.”

“I take it then that you know about my stances? My vision?” Jen asked with a
sly smile. Even though this man right in front of her may have been responsible for
most of the struggles she faced getting to where she was now, Jen knew now that he
was the type of man to roll with the punches bureaucratically. He would do whatever it
would take to keep himself employed and safe within this room, even if it meant help-
ing the former enemy.

“I am well versed in your theory, Ms. Erik, as are my thought supervisors before
you.” He turned and gestured his hand towards the others sitting at the table who had
still not said a word under his command. “It is to my understanding that you are a firm
advocate for reconciliation?”

Jen nodded, keeping that smirk to her mouth. “But I also believe in freedom. If
your thought supervisors would indeed like to work under our new system of govern-
ment, then I encourage it. However, if they decide to retire, I will put up no fight to-
wards it.”

She noticed that Mai’s enthusiastic expression seemed to falter when Jen men-
tioned the ability to leave. She wondered if such an idea was too radical for his aging
mind. After all, he did appear to be thrice her age.17

“I believe it would be… unwise to offer such freedom, Ms. Erik.” His gravelly
voice complementing sinister undertones. “I trust that you understand just how valu-
able we could be to your order.”

Jen and Valor-Sinf exchanged a brief look of nervousness, but the Tusk-Saften
leader was not about to pass up on such an offer. She did not like him referring to her
people’s overthrowing of a violent regime as her new ‘order,’ but again, what she was
being offered was much better than nothing.

“Well, I suppose the decision is up to you, ultimately.” Jen glared amongst the
other Saften thought leaders in the room once more, about twenty of them total and
not a single one had offered any input of any kind. Plastered amongst their faces were
that of weariness, and she was beginning to wonder if it was due to the inherent ten-
sion in the room or something more sinister. She bit her lip before turning her attention
back to Mai.

“Anyways, since I’m here, I suppose I should request some risk assessment
from you.”

“Your inquiries are my commands, Ms. Erik.”

“Do you think a public speech is a good idea?”

17 Jen is about in her mid 20s. By the way, years seem to work the same here as they do where
I’m from. Just thought I’d mention that. People are reading these, right?
Saften Falls 13

The rest of the day would be a slew of reports and stress, but Jen was on a vic-
tory high and events ultimately seemed to be falling together like Caria pieces.18 Within
only a few hours the Tusk-Saften rebellion had managed to completely overtake all as-
pects of the previous Richard empire. Guards whose loyalty was to whomever was in
charge assimilated quickly, whereas those who didn’t were given a second chance be-
fore being jailed.

Jen now stood in front of a massive crowd. She had invited the whole Kingdom
of Saften to tune in19 to the event and yet the only ones who seemed to show up in
person were Highlander Saftens, and they showed faces of confusion and anger. Jen
was not sure that she could appeal to their better emotions, after all, she had been in-
formed that most of them showed up on the pretense that the king was still alive.

“I’m still not so sure about this, Jen.” Valor-sinf said from her secondary position
on the stage. “It’s still legal to carry large weapons in public around here.”

“Truthfully, neither am I, but Mai agreed that it would be the best approach for-
ward.”

“A-and you believed him?” Valor-sinf replied, a little dumbfounded. “Did you see
the way that he was acting? The guy probably wants to see if Tusk-Saften blood really
can keep one young.”

Jen looked over at her compatriot with nervous eyes. “I suppose I did just be-
lieve him. Do you think it’s too late to turn back?”

The Sinf immediately went on the defensive. “N-no, I wasn’t saying we should
do that, I think we can totally finish the job here! I’m just, uh, being proactive, y’know?”

The Tusk-Saften turned her head and looked off into the distance. “This does
look really bad for me, optics-wise. If you gave me the word, I would turn back with
you.”

Valor-Sinf snorted. “Well, we got this far. At this point, I guess I’m just a dumb
girl who likes her chances.”

That made Jen feel a little better, as did most self-deprecating humor on Valor-
Sinf’s part. With that, she felt she had finally mustered the confidence to step forward,
tuning her voice in to the sound wave. She waited a few moments to make sure every-
one was ready to hear what she had to say. There was no going back now.

It was time to put that long-planned speech into effect.

“People of Saften. Aren’t you tired? Aren’t you craving more of what life can of-
fer? All of you must desire something reasonable, something attainable. Something that
has been pushed far back into the loins of your mind by a monarchy that cared little
about your troubles. That used you for its gain.”

18Apparently “Caria” is a popular alternate-universe equivalent of chess and the concept of a

100-piece puzzle fused into one. Sounds cool on paper but in execution? I can only imagine
the shit being flung if someone loses a piece.
19Within the Highlands is a well-guarded auditorium where the King often releases speeches.
There is a device in it where people can “tune in” to speeches using that same sound wave
magic Traden was using earlier.
Saften Falls 14

She was trying to remain as vague about the death of the king as possible. “But
now, such desires are attainable. Three major changes shall be put in place to achieve
them.”

“Number one: The ruler is to be chosen by the people and elected instead of
passed down.”

A majority of the crowd looked confused. They were looking amongst them-
selves and murmuring nervously.

“Number two: There is to be a public forum that the ruler and their constituents
must attend once every week.”

There was not much more of a reaction from that one.

“And number three: Reparations will be given to all Tusk-Saftens.”

There was a significant reaction from that one.

The expected reactions were to be expected. Some people shouted and threw
up their hands in anger. Others buried their hands in their heads in disappointment. But
all of them were still Saftens.

Saften Falls 15

Chapter 1.520
It was only after the speech had subsided that Jen realized just how well Mai
had predicted the outcome of the event. He had assured Jen that what would transpire
regarding both Saften and Tusk-Saften reactions were as follows:

‘The Tusk-Saftens will mostly tune in by sound wave. They will be excited and
most likely hold a parade within the Sticks. The Saftens that show up will react with
disappointment, but will not take it upon themselves to physically retaliate. Not yet, at
least.’

That last part worried her. Mai said he was not sure how exactly they would
“physically retaliate,” but that he would work diligently to predict any possible out-
comes. Jen knew that it would only be a matter of time before they found out about
Whitaker’s fate; his two sons had been given a complementary residence within the
highlands and nothing was hindering either of them from disclosing what they had wit-
nessed.

Currently, she would describe the leadership of Saften as under the temporary
control of the Tusk-Saften rebellion. But she felt dishonest knowing that most of the
populace were not even aware of such an event.

The brunt of that self-guilt was towards her own people. Too long had the Tusk-
Saftens been subjected to poor living conditions, insufficient education and underrep-
resentation in the Governing body, and now they could not even be explicitly told that
they were in the process of overcoming it.

Jen cursed the human mind, the one of the average Saften. So easily consumed
by hatred and propaganda. Part of her wished she could just enter the mind of every
Saften on the landmass and perform a reset on their brains. But the thought fleeted as
fast as it had arrived. Perhaps being alone with her thoughts was more damaging than
she had remembered. Ever since the revolution had begun, she had always had some-
one by her side, mostly Valor-Sinf.21 Now that the physical fighting was done, she was
finally allowed to walk by herself.

She was taking a lonely walk up the same flight of stairs that the King had de-
scended for the very last time this morning. After a short talk with fellow Tusk-Saften
revolutionaries and the allied Sinfs, it was agreed that Jen should be the one to take up
the King’s sleeping quarters until a proper election system had been implemented and
seen through.

20 Yeah I know, this confused me too. Apparently books in this world are commonly written
with half-chapters sometimes placed in-between regular ones. They seem to serve the purpose
of extra context, but I guess they could be skipped? Such a weird little thing. I kinda vibe with
it.
21 And it had been going on for FIVE YEARS. What, was she taking communal showers too?
Saften Falls 16

Entering the grandiose room felt like an insect entering a mess hall to her. Never
had Jen seen such an exaggerated display of wealth taking the form of what was sup-
posed to function as simply sleeping quarters. There was a balcony view of the entirety
of Saften, a personal mist chamber, and even a large service elevator for refreshments.

That guilty feeling was beginning to reappear. This was already one of the first
bedrooms she had entered where her head did not threaten to bump the ceiling. There
was far too much wealth on display for one person to deserve, and she understandably
felt out of place because of it.

“Did I really earn all this?”

Once again, Jen was almost surprised when no one responded to her inquiry.
She smacked her lips tiredly and decided it was now or never to try out the mist cham-
ber.22

After a refreshing hour, she dressed herself for rest but did not immediately run
towards the bed. She exited the room and gazed upon the Sticks from the balcony.
Despite the parade’s light show being visible from where she stood, she could not ac-
tually hear any of the celebration. That disconcerted Jen. She already knew that the old
King never cared for her people, but to know that he could never hear the happiness of
them, the culture that they made loud to the world. It saddened her.

Jen recalled the times she and other Tusk-Saftens would throw small, outside
parties as close to the Highland gates as possible in an effort to annoy the border pa-
trol. She remembered how one time, she swore she made a racket so loud that the
King of Saften himself must have heard it. But now she knew that it could not be true.
Whenever the King was up here the only noise he had to accompany him was the
sound of his own thoughts. Such an idea unnerved her; too long had she fallen asleep
to loud parties that stretched into the night. The silence she heard now was almost
deafening.

The Tusk-Saften leader lay upon her new bed, completely caught off-guard by
how comfortable it was. It was almost… too comfortable. Only then she found herself
recalling the words of her mentor: “The poorest creature is never truly satisfied once
presented with satisfaction.”23

But she had to admit that, despite her intrusive thoughts, she was somewhat
satisfied. Even if the world ended tomorrow, she accomplished something she never
thought was possible. She understood that her fight was nowhere near over, but never
had there been more hope in her mind than now.

22If you couldn’t tell by now, it basically functions like a shower/sauna hybrid. The mist cleans
you off and apparently it actually contains some percentage of alcohol in it? That’s can’t be
healthy to inhale.
23 C’mon, this is clearly more of a Goldilocks thing going on here.
Saften Falls 17