Sarasa's Address

For the first time in ten years, the full force of the Hajja stands at attention before the Chief's tent. Whispers and gossip permeate the morning mist as everyone's thoughts drift toward the last time this happened, when the former chief announced their resignation, as well as that of most of the Combat Corps. You barely hear the ruffling of the tent's flaps as Sarasa throws them wide and strides out. She looks gravely serious, an expression you can hardly remember seeing on her. Well, not the grave part, that's pretty typical.

As the Chief spreads her arms, the gems adorning her robes split off and float into the mists, rinsing them away in a flood of colored lights. She scans the crowd, closes her eyes, and sighs. "No, I am not resigning." She cracks a brief smile before drawling on, "Please, hide your disappointment."

The gems return to their master, having cleared away the mists, and form a constellation, lines of light connecting the dots. The constellation happens to be that of a chair, which Sarasa sits in, rising a meter or two off the ground.

"For centuries, we of the Hajja have dedicated ourselves to aiding whomever may find themselves in need. We, and the secrets we have accumulated, exist solely to preserve life. Our taking sides in a battle would lead only to further bloodshed. A noble creed, which we have followed impeccably."

The Chief opens her eyes, staring through the crowd, "But laudable intentions do not necessarily create desirable outcomes. The events of the past few weeks have made that clear to me, and, it is my hope, to all of you as well. We held fast to our beliefs. That should be a point of pride. And yet, today, as I stand here, I feel as though those tenets have failed me. I find it difficult to place faith in them any longer."

Sarasa floats slowly through the rows of Hajja, deep in thought, "We played both sides, as we always have. We made no distinction between aggressor and victim, as we never have. And look at the world we have to show for our pride. The world we will raise our children in." The lights from her gems cut out, letting the mist seep back in.

Sarasa's voice sifts through the bleak morning, her form ever out of sight. "The gods have left us, dead or in chains. Basileios has wrought control of the Land in Shadow, and seeks to reign over us all before long. The few who could stand against him are scattered, broken.

"It is difficult to accept one's own guilt in the best of circumstances, let alone those in which we find ourselves. But we must, for recognizing our mistakes is the most important step in righting them.

Our neutrality has cost the world much. It must end, before we cause any further damage. From henceforth, the Hajja will contest the Land in Shadow directly. I will be expanding the Combat Corps, but our core shall always be tending to the wounds of those in need. It is only that those needs have changed. We must adapt to those changes. And to aid us in doing so..."

The head of a massive hammer juts out from the Chief's tent, parting the flaps to make way for a lithe, silver-haired woman clad in a shimmering, mirrored steel. "I have enlisted aid."

Gasps and cries of outrage ring through the mist. Araceli?! The right hand of the All-Crowned King himself?

The woman glances at the crowd before her eyes fall on Sarasa. Meeting the Chief's gaze, Araceli kneels and raises a jade pendant in the shape of a clutch of herbs: the symbol of the Hajja.

"I personally fought with Araceli against Basileios' forces. She was not the merciless Hound she claimed to be. You, too, shall come to see that in time. For, from today onward, she shall lead our Combat Corps. Long have we been without a power to rival the Blackguard. Who better to fill the hole Shahin left than a warrior demonstrably on his level?"

One of Sarasa's gems wanders through the crowd, absorbing all stray whispers and shouts so that its master's voice carries clearly, "I understand you may have objections to this. It is a sudden, jarring change."

Chief Sarasa floats back to her tent, where Araceli helps her down. "I will leave you all to think this over. Should you wish to speak of it, or to join the expanded Combat Corps, come see one of us. Of course, if your objections are strong enough, you are free to leave the Hajja. But know that in doing so, you might as well be joining Basileios. Your inaction will aid him all the same. It already has."