The Old Man's Declaration
| The Old Man's Declaration | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 19 April 2013 |
| Location: | Cleyra |
| Synopsis: | The Old Man addresses the Cleyran assembly, urging them to war. |
| Cast of Characters: | Garland |
The rats are swarming tonight.
In the wake of the unparalleled aggression by Alexandria, the Buremcian people have urged the Cleyran assembly to hear their voices. Outside the doors of the Cleyran High Priest's chamber, their voices are certainly being heard; the assembly's representatives, the leaders of Cleyra, murmur amongst themselves. Some talk of radical action against the Burmecians; some talk of leading by example. It is an explosive powder keg, the High Priest knows as she sits and listens to the conversations, and all it would take is a single spark for the whole thing to go up in smoke. It is precarious and frightening, to see her people like this, on the verge of war.
But, she believes, she can still avert this tragedy.
That is, before he arrives.
There crowd outside goes deathly quiet. There are the sounds of a scuffle, of the guards shouting for help, and then the doors are blown open by their bodies; the two Cleyrans are flung into the center of the chamber, bounding off the floor. The assembly rises in fear and outrage as the ancient human strides through the doors, and the High Priest's heart suddenly drops low into her chest. The Old Man had been one of the firmest proponents for war the High Priest had ever seen in her life. The face that he wore may have been human, but the Cleyran woman was convinced he was a demon of the highest order. She stands, holding up her hand to silence the assembly, and the two guards pull themselves back to their feet and move to close the doors.
The Old Man's hand snaps outwards; the guards are flung to the side as they attempt to shut the doors, and the Old Man's eyes turn to focus on the High Priest.
"What," the Priest demands, summing up years of leadership experience and matronly age to appear as intimidating as she is possibly capable, "Is the meaning of this intrusion, Ser? Assaulting Cleyran guards is a fearsome offense."
The Old Man is not intimidated in the least. It's hard to tell if he feels anything; the alien, otherworldy aura about the man, and the cold, dead eyes have only reinforced her private demonic accusations. "What have I to fear from you, who huddle in privacy away from the people you are meant to serve? What have I to fear from your justice, who would accept only the blood of their own upon their hands? Your words do not threaten me, Priest; I have thrown open the doors of this assembly, that all of Cleyra and its children may know what I have to say." The Old Man spreads his arms wide.
"You are slaves."
The High Priest recoils, as if struck. She stammers, her face tinting red under her white fur; outrage wells up deep inside her. "How dare you, Ser? Do you know to whom-"
"Of course I know who you are. Sit down. You may speak only when I am done." The Old Man's piercing gaze falls upon her; the Priest, despite herself, goes silent, a shock of terror racing up her spine. What is this creature that can inspire such terror in her, this creature that compels her with his mere presence to pick up a blade and send him to the Great Beyond? She sits, and the Old Man continues.
"You are slaves to your ideals. You are slaves to a fantasy of pacifism as your cousins lie starving and bleeding in the dirt at the hands of Alexandria. You are slaves clinging to the idea of a morality that condemns the suffering for fighting back against their oppressors." The Old Man's hands fold back under his sleeves, turning around as he speaks to address the whole of the assembly. Then, his finger comes up, and he points out the door; with a motion, a Burmecian child is drawn into the chamber, set down in the center by some invisible force.
"The demon Kuja slew this boy's parents. It took him less than a day to render the great Burmecian nation to beggars and orphans, broken and beaten. Now, he lives on your 'kindness', waiting for you to make a decision - a decision you refuse to make, paralyzed by chains of your own design. You kick them, scolding them - as if it were God's vengeance, striking down upon them for daring to choose to live differently than you. You give them the scraps from your tables, as if it absolves you of your role in their suffering. Is this what your god desires? To sit, condemning your cousins in the face of genocide?" The Old Man's voice raises to a crescendo.
"I tell you that it is not!"
"Your leaders undoubtedly have begun researching my origins. They have likely discovered - and silenced - the truth." The High Priest's eyes widen as the Old Man's eyes fall onto her - how could he possibly know that? How did he know what she had done? Was he spying on them? Was he watching all of them? "That truth is simple, people of Cleyra, people of Burmecia."
"I have lived for thousands upon thousands of years. I have appeared in your oldest legends, my title whispered of between the pages of history, aiding the righteous, the rebellious, those who are wronged by Fate. Yes, people of Burmecia, children of Cleyra - I hear your whispers, your murmurs, and I will confirm them! I am a servant of the one God, an angel sent to you to give aid in this dark time. For the demon Kuja is a monster of the highest order, an unholy creature who has seduced the whole of Alexandria to his sway; against him you will find no salvation in peace, no mercy in prayer."
"But I say to you now that your prayers have been answered! If you have the courage to grasp the aid that I will offer you; if you have the strength of will to cast off your erroneous principles and fight alongside the Burmecians and the Glabados; if you have the hearts to stand up for what must be, to stand up for what is right! If you have such hearts and minds, then I say to you now, as an angel of God, that you must fight!"
"Some among you question my powers. Some among you question what I offer. You feel that I will lead you to ruin and damnation, that I am not angel but demon, sent to destroy you. But I say to you now - if you believe your cause to be righteous, if your hearts are true, the shadows offer no fear for you. They offer no doom, no ruin - only salvation. For God is not only in the light! God is in the shadows, in the darkness - naught can exist without God's will! And if you do not accept His Will, soon, you too will cease to exist!"
"So stand up! Stand up, and fight, Cleyra! Fight alongside your brothers and sisters, and know that your cause is a righteous one! Stand up - or you will be left in the dust of history!"
A ragged cheer explodes from the Burmecians as the Old Man walks out, the doors closing behind him. The assembly begins murmuring rapidly; the High Priest sinks back into her chair, a weary look crossing her face. War can never be just...but did she have the strength to lead in this crisis, with so many rallying for war, even among her own people?
She prayed she was making the right choice. Prayer was, after all, all she could do at the moment. But never before had it seemed so powerless...
