As conflict and peacetime ebb and flow like the waves of the great Gulf of Itur, so do the duties of maintaining a nation. Maintaining, perhaps, isn’t a proper word here, but of course the definitions often change with the nature of any given situation. Leadership, as it were, was like life for Premier Ikrisia Levinile: confusing yet capable, tantalizing yet tumultuous, exciting and exhausting. The life of a supersoldier was clearly defined and a straight path with signage and paved roads. The life of a common girl living in a large vulpine city was completely the opposite - a winding path but full of surprises and chances of whimsy. Here, in leadership, as the Premier of Vekaiyu, the path was a difficult morass of brush with little guidance. Only a book of past experiences and past mistakes by her predecessors provided some semblance of what to avoid, and the hands of several dozen ministers and generals would help. But the forest was dark, and she could see the eyes of thousands of individuals watching her every move, waiting, plotting, and, of course, executing.
Or, perhaps, just one set of eyes in particular.
“You are the Premier of Vekaiyu, are you not?”
Ikrisia made a face as she looked over the older woman, likely hunched from years of labor. She wore a rather dark cloak, which didn’t quite fit in with the populace in Calesu. They were a more expressive type, spoiled by the sea and the warmer temperatures. Despite this, Ikrisia was keen to wear something more comfortable to her nature - an unassuming black outfit of dress and hosiery, along with a coat to keep her warm, appearing as a typical rootless individual from her native Listonia, formerly Dveria, so long ago. “Do I appear as the Premier of Vekaiyu?”
She shook her head, almost like her response was a disappointment. “Not in body. But some can see through the body.”
With a smirk, she folded her arms across her chest, arms that hid their steel composite frameworks exceptionally well. “Oh? I think the Premier’s… too serious. Yeah, really, too serious. Maybe she should go on vacations to prevent her from getting those premature wrinkles all the commercials seem to be talking about. Or, maybe she should take up drinking to develop a better personality, you think?”
The old woman gazed at her with unsettling eyes. “Or smoking, like your father once did.”
“What did you say?” she asked after a pause. A slight scoff lightened the mood. “How would you know if my father smoked, or even if I knew about my father? After all, I’m some random walker on the street, about to hit the beach to catch a swim, perhaps.”
“You’re Ikrisia Levinile, daughter of the Listonian.” The Premier’s eyes widened and her ears fell as she probed a wiry digit in her face. “You were utilized as a commodity, made to serve the state, and restored it from the evil that once gripped the land. But you’ve become lax in your position, and have placed yourself, indeed this very nation, in the path of ancient evil.” Ikrisia tried to get a word in edgewise, but her accusatory demeanor turned a once confident vulpine female into a submissive listener. “As St. Kabuu says, woe to the one who is complacent. As St. Aiya says, blessed is the accusation, for accusation begets repentance. May you never understand comfort, Premier Levinile.”
The Premier furrowed her brow after pulling her coat closer to her frame. She swore the air felt cooler despite being nowhere near a shadow. “Who are you? What is it you want?”
“In our world, there exists great evil. Old evil.” The old woman squinted her eyes as she looked up at the young Ikrisia. “And it threatens the livelihood of every race and every creed.”
“There… always is evil in this world,” Ikrisia retorted, though with how well the woman knew her story, she dared not speak further. Instead, with a face full of worry, she looked down at the lady, who pulled what appeared to be an carved wooden mask hearkening back to a time of pagan Vekaiyu, when God slept in times of old. The enlarged eyes appeared sleepy, and the grin was unsettling.
“You must return to the site in The Levinasi. You know which site I speak of. Protect yourself. You’ll understand why.” When she held the mask up, Ikrisia gingerly took it and felt the cold jaku wood in her hands.
“Return to The Levinasi?” she questioned. “I don’t have time to visit that…” when she looked down, the old woman from before had vanished. “That… torturous place.” The Premier searched for her, using her neck to twist her head and search every visible area in sight, but she truly was gone. Her attention turned to the mask. “What is this? And… where exactly did you come from?”