*Shift

It was a small cellar, no more than a box in the ground. The ceiling was so low he could only crawl, the walls so close together he couldn’t lie down. Tiernahk had been in the cellar for nearly a month without even a moment’s reprieve. At first he spent a lot of time thinking. He worried about Allatea. Had she been caught? So far they had been lucky, perhaps too lucky. His owners did not suspect he was sneaking out to meet the princess; Allatea’s parents did not know she was in love with a slave. Tiernahk’s punishments for disappearing for hours at a time were often severe, and he sometimes wondered why his owner didn’t sell or even kill him to be rid of the inconvenience of an unreliable and often rebellious slave. But there was the prestige of owning the king of the Vahrlet to be considered. Tiernahk was a direct descendent of the last Vahrlet king of Aequo. So while his masters were cruel, they would not kill him.

But that still left him in the cellar, worrying. Tiernahk was a historian of sorts, and from his study of ancient documents no one else had ever bothered to read, he had learned a great secret. There were two races on Aequo: Doyenne and Vahrlet. Every three hundred years the magic that sustained the kings shifted, leaving one race and residing in the other. Invariably the newly dominant race put the other into bitter slavery. This had been going on for centuries, perhaps even millennia. This shift would occur in another four years, the magic leaving the Doyenne king and coming to rest in Tiernahk. If the Doyenne knew of this they would certainly put to death every last Vahrlet in Aequo to secure their own position of power. In their ignorance, the Doyenne were perpetrators of a vicious cycle where each master race became more cruel than the last. This cycle could only lead to the eventual extinction of one or both races.

Four years! How could he rally his people in such a short time when he spent so much of it confined in a box? Tiernahk was determined to end the cycle of abuse in Aequo. It was deteriorating quickly. He was lucky; as much as they hated and feared him, his owners would not kill him. The rest of his people were not so fortunate. Doyenne masters often beat or killed their slaves in fits of pique or to punish the Vahrlet for some misdemeanour, real or imaginary. Tiernahk puzzled over how to unite the two races, how to convince the Doyenne and the Vahrlet to live together as equals. They could accomplish so much together, the strengths of the one aiding the weaknesses of the other.

After two weeks in the cellar Tiernahk was no longer able to focus on his dilemma, or even on Allatea. His body screamed for reprieve after so long in a cramped position and very little food. When he slept his dreams were strange and disjointed. He saw Allatea standing with the other Doyenne elite, mocking him. How could I love a Vahrlet slave like you? Tiernahk woke up sweating despite the cold of the cellar.

After three weeks in the cellar he was no longer himself. His mind was taken by incoherent ramblings and phantoms. One of the other slaves, who brought him food on occasion, found him mumbling to himself and unaware of her presence or even the sudden light that flooded the dark cellar. It took her two days to work up the courage to speak to her master, but she eventually decided her punishment, or even her death, would be a small thing in comparison to the death of her king.

Tiernahk was useless for the next week as he recovered from his confinement. The other slaves went with little sleep in order to cover his duties as well as their own. He felt a wave of guilt as he contemplated the suffering they would surely endure in future days as he prepared for the shift. Could he just disappear, live free in the woods? It would be better to be unhampered by any duties to his masters so he could concentrate fully on his task. No, Tiernahk couldn’t do it. The other slaves would certainly be tortured for his location; the Vahrlet king could not be roaming free, inciting the other slaves to rebel. Somehow he would have to make the Doyenne and the Vahrlet at least tolerate each other as citizens while still maintaining his life as a slave.

Four years. Tiernahk couldn’t shake the urgency. Four years to convince his people they didn’t hate the Doyenne for the years of misery they’d suffered. Four years to prepare Aequo for the power shift so it would happen bloodlessly. Four years in which he would have to move covertly so as not to provoke the ire of his masters and end up in the cellar again. It was vital the Doyenne not find out about the shift, but the Vahrlet needed that same information to rally around. Tiernahk had no idea how he would accomplish it all. It would take all his powers of persuasion, all the force of his character, and most likely more. Perhaps it was impossible. Had others in the past made the attempt? He didn’t know. But despite the apparent impossibility of his quest, Tiernahk had to try.

Four years. 1460 days. Tiernahk squared his shoulders.

Day one.