Katie tried to continue but was continuously interrupted by the cries of outrage from the opposing side.
“These monsters are not holy!”
“They will kill us all!”
“His very existence goes against faith itself.”
Xander snapped his attention to the last comment. A middle-aged man, in a cream coloured suit that almost matched his skin tone and was far too small to stretch over his large stomach, stood pointing directly at him. Xander recognised him, he’d been known to run with Rook’s circle of friends, and most likely a spy for the Liberators.
Katie and Xander had discussed the ongoing situation with the Liberators; they were deeply concerned over their growing numbers from the rallies Rook had organised across the country over the past couple of years. What had once been a small group of closed-minded, cowardly men who hated Daemons, had more recently become a country-wide terrorist threat. And now that threat included current Members of Parliament.
The noise began to lower as one by one the politicians noticed the shadows that spread across the room. Xander rose from his seat and walked down to stand next to Katie, never taking his eyes off the man who stared back at him with disgust.
Katie gave him the stand and took her seat as Xander retracted his shadows back to him, the darkness slowly wafting back to its lord. He took a deep breath as the last of the shadows disappeared into his hands, the entire room silent as they waited for his speech.
“I am not here to disregard or dispute your faith,” he spoke softly.
He refused to shout or make threats like the rest of them to present his argument. As he walked round the podium, he took in the rest of the room, particularly the faces of the opposing side. The Liberators used all they could to back their cause, from the fall of America and now to religious excuses, they utilised everything they could to turn the public against Daemons and the government.
“I will tell you what I know about dying and being reborn, if you want,” Xander continued. “I can tell you about the thin space between the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead. I can even tell you tales of gods that you may or may not choose to believe in. What I will not do, however much you may wish to state as pitiful evidence of your futile argument, is challenge your beliefs.”
Xander noticed several politicians of the opposing sides sitting back in their seats, deciding not to try to argue back. He stopped to stand in front of the man in the cream suit, allowing himself to look down his nose at the pathetic excuse of a human.
“What I will challenge is your inability to see the humanity shared by mortals and Daemonium, and, in your case, your lack of it.”
He was met with low murmurs of support from Katie’s side, and a few eye rolls and tuts from the other. Xander smirked as the man shifted uncomfortably under his stare.
He had half a mind to continue scaring him, wondering if the coward would die of fright if he continued to glare at him any longer. Xander had never prayed to any gods as a mortal and the Superi had never answered him as a Lamia, but he'd happily give Superus Mortis every single one of the Liberators’ wretched souls to drag to the Land of the Dead.
Before he could ponder the thought any longer, he straightened his tie, and slowly walked back to stand behind the podium.
“I stand before you today to continue to advocate for the equality of Daemons and mortals, not because I want to challenge your beliefs in faith or anything as pointless as that. It is because we are all human, all of us. We love our families and friends as you love yours, we search for a purpose in life as do you all. We have the same dreams, the same aspirations, the same fears. And right now, that fear, that anger, should be directed at the Umbranimae, not at each other.”
Xander’s eyes dropped to his hands that gripped either side of the podium, his dark Nocte brands stark against his skin. He took a brief moment to listen to the thoughts around him, and could sense the fear from the opposition that Rook had instilled deep within them.
“I know you are scared of me, you are scared of all of us. I can’t blame you for that. But for years I have worked to strive for peace for us all. I’ve dedicated the better parts of my life to protecting others no matter who or what they are. And I have been met with the constant uphill battle of being divided by our differences, by our fears. But now, we face a common enemy, and we must stand together, united against them. What happened in America is a tragedy that I do not want to see befall any country. But there is a way we can live peacefully in this world—I have seen it. And to avoid such travesty, we need your support placed in the Courts, not placed in spineless terrorists like Lucas Rook.”
Xander's knuckles shone white as his grip tightened on the podium, the wood cracking under his hands, threatening to splinter into pieces from his restrained anger. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Steeling himself,he donned his mask of composure and resumed, his voice betraying no hint of the inferno he fought to control.
“The peace act of the World Court has allowed us to live in harmony and cooperation across countries. We have learned from one another, supported one another, and we have the ability to make our society stronger than ever. But this peace act must be upheld from within the government, from all of you. So I call on you to come together and fight for our peace, fight for our future. Because if we carry on the way we are, none of us will have one.”
He took one last look around the room before pushing himself away from the podium and walking back up the stairs to his seat. He smiled his well-rehearsed smile, polite and charming as always, thanking those who congratulated him.
Xander heaved a quiet sigh as Deion slapped a hand against his back. Katie turned and gave them a slight nod, before she continued her speech again. Thankfully, there were now far fewer interruptions from the opposition.
“Well done,” Deion whispered. “You know, it's irritating how good you are at this. You didn’t even use the speech I wrote, it’s like you’re a natural at politics.”
“Your speech writing needs a lot of work,” Xander winked at him. “I’d stick to healing people if I were you.”
Though the room had calmed down a considerable amount, Xander could sense the lingering thoughts running through their minds. A single speech from him would only do so much in convincing them to stand by the World Court, it would not be enough to dig up and destroy such deep-rooted fears Rook had placed in them. That burden fell on Katie’s shoulders; she would need to rally her government in taking down Rook’s every growing Liberator movement if the world was going to stand a chance against Caligo.
Xander fidgeted with the sleeves of his suit. The fabric felt alien against his skin as he yearned for the worn leather of his Daemon lieutenant uniform. That was where he belonged, on the battlefield fighting Caligo’s darkness with his own, fighting for the people he loved and the people he’d lost, not sitting in an itchy suit pretending to be a politician. He had not been a loyal soldier as a mortal man, he hadn’t cared about any cause for war back then, but now he truly lived up to his title.
He was the first Daemon, the strongest Lamia, and the leader of the Courts of Daemonium. He would not give up.
“Besides,” Xander said, giving Deion a look of exhaustion. “We are going to need all the healing help we can get in this war to come.”
Chapter eighteen
