Fall Witness, Part 2 - SCP Foundation

Canon Hub » No Return Hub » Inevitable Seasons » Fall Witness, Part 2

by Ethagon

Site-118 The Autumn Court, 23th October 2021

Day of the Council Vote

There were three kinds of Fae in the Autumn Court. There were also those who joined the Court from outside or were tricked into it like the struggling Randall. In the end, they still distilled into the three proper categories.

The first were the Fae that came down from Summer. You had to be cautious of them, but any threat they posed was only of a temporary nature. Once knocked off their high summer horse they universally fell into a deep depression about the status they had left behind in the Court of Gold. Still, the initial danger could not be understated. Summer had used these banishments as much to expel nuisances as to keep Autumn in check. Of course, Summer had vanished, making this a meaningless category.

The third group were the Fae that came up from Winter. No one left the Court of Oblivion intact, so these Fae were seldom of interest. They would serve well as undead puppets for one scheme or another, but creatures of so little will were hardly worth greater attention.

It was the second group that was of a more lasting nature, and Aevrendhíl counted himself among their number. The Fae born of Autumn. Only they had what it took to survive in the cutthroat environment of a perpetually doomed system. The only way to rise was to be the last Fae standing while the rest took the fall.

The Foundation had been an excellent ploy to this effect. Of course, other Fae of the second kind tried to drag Aevrendhíl down from his uncontested position. In his vicinity stood Carrot Goldleaf.

"A Carrot for your thoughts?" — "I will express some of my thoughts to you for this carrot." — "Sure!"

Aevrendhíl began the process of sitting. By the time he had properly sat down a seat and the corresponding table to serve the carrot had been arranged. Almost perfect work, but he had still caught a glimpse of the servant. A punishment he had to dole out later.

"So, what's your thought?" Goldleaf had sat down on the table, dangling her feet. Displeasing to the eye, this just served as a reminder that Goldleaf was untouchable by him.

"A thought of mine was wasted towards the circumstances that left you in particular as one of the named. Clearly, you did not find a human named Goldleaf." He savoured the first bite of the carrot. As always it lived excellently up to the experience of having tasted better yesterday.

"Ooooh, so you were thinking about me?"

"Yes, that is what I said. I find it rather uncouth to leave this thought, which you have pressed out of me, unfulfilled."

"Well, the thought was for the carrot. Why should I give you more?" As if there had been a choice. Aevrendhíl had hoped to acquire another source of food after his liberation, but the untimely demise of the Foundation's one-hundred-and-eighteenth mansion had put a more than slight dent in the plan. Now he was once more dependent on the food of Autumn. Never up to par, but the only thing that could bring his tongue close to a high that never was.

"Oh my, have they not told you? You are no longer the only Goldleaf in town." Carrot looked a little less cheerful now. "I have thought about giving their food a try instead. I could of course be convinced otherwise if you put this agitated thought to rest."

"Hmph, fine. Me and my siblings buried names we got in exchange for food in a very special spot. Well, one of us did. But there wasn't much space and the rest of us also wanted their names buried. All that was left was 'Carrot Goldleaf and her siblings'. And I was the first to get back to it, so I got the good part!"

"Yes." Aevrendhíl dapped his mouth with his handkerchief. "You got a head start."

He left the Goldleaf behind and walked towards the main clearing.

A month had passed since the Captain had barred the Autumn Court's exit into the Foundation's house. The only other exit had been the close-by entrance to Autumn's former counterpart. Thankfully that place was still in ruins. Aevrendhíl had made sure of it.

Autumn and Spring were never to interact in a functioning cycle, but he intended to extend its disrupted status indefinitely. With Summer gone, Autumn would rule the forever broken Cycle of Seasons.

Still, the current circumstances were less than pleasant. It was paramount to create a more convenient egress in the future. A plan was already in full motion. As much in motion as the main clearing already seemed to be. It would be an exhausting day.

"Three more were brought into the fault," Owings reported to his master. If you looked at the Site Director, the implosion had killed enough humans for the rank to default to Owings again, you would not guess that this was a man who had lost his life, his mission, and his home to Aevrendhíl. Instead, the doctor of fears had started scheming behind his master's back, all while playing the dutiful servant.

A most splendid addition to the Court, with the calibre of the Autumborn.

He had come back from a mission to recruit the 'Level 4 Personnel' to his cause. Shortly after acquiring Owings, Aevrendhíl had him fulfil the order of sending the O4 Council their long overdue invitation to the Court. Piecemeal, of course.

You had to be slow with a beast like the Foundation. Invitations had been sent out individually with a focus on the more conservative elements of the organization. Through tricks and deals tailored to the individual each of them had been bound to the Court, two-thirds of them to him directly. In just a month they had put a twelfth of the O4 under their control.

Enough to proceed with the next portion of his plan. He spread his arms.

"I come to you today as the accuser of the third kind."

"Aevrendhíl, he who has distanced himself from Autumn, why do you accuse the Court?" spoke the advisors of the Court.

Plenty of Fae had followed in his wake and split from Feallen. Some of them had elected to choose an official position in the Court. These advisors did not share his privilege of freedom while still having strings to pull in the Court's proceedings.

"Over the years of our residence, we have accumulated trials with our former host. But the one-hundred-and-eighteenth is gone. It would be uncouth for the Court to hold on to these trials, now that the accuser has lost their ability to accuse."

Like all things in Autumn, this was of course highly hypocritical. Postponing trials in perpetuity was one of their most common practices. Especially if it was more desirable for a given party to hold on to a specific property of the trial. Something that would vanish on its conclusion. In fact, Aevrendhíl intended to do the same thing.

Of course, now that he had called the Court out on it, this had to be remedied. "Well. We will call to witness the Site Director as the highest remaining authority on this matter."

"The Site Director is not the highest authority we have access to. Owings answers to his O5 Contact, the O4 Council."

The representatives stared at him in annoyance. One advisor who wore a brown top hat deigned to reply this time. "Well. We cannot hold a group so large in this trial. They will have to attend as an avatar of the group."

Owings stepped for. As the one overseeing the invitations, he was to construct the avatar. Aevrendhíl reached through the bond that tied them together and took control of the life he saved. The avatar manifested, shaped in his design.

The avatar leaned more male than female, wearing a suit whose lower end was more of a lab coat. Their hair implied multiple colours but was overall trending towards grey. They were holding onto a clipboard and glared with a dark look behind their glasses. Aevrendhíl had made sure that the head of the avatar represented the twelfth of the Council already under his control.

"Why am I here?"

"You are here as the highest authority on the one-hundred-and-eighteenth. It is customary for trials without purpose to end. You represent the party that can no longer accuse. If all are in agreement, we would like to put these trials to rest."

"Am I correct in assuming that ending these trials means acknowledging that Site-118 has been destroyed?"

"You assume correct."

"Then I refuse."

While the advisors were giving their answer, Aevrendhíl left the main clearing, turning to the doctor controlling the Heart. Owings and Head Shoulders Knees No Soul stood in position.

"It is time."

Dr. Arceo coughed. "My future doesn't show the heart being used unless there is some form of compensation."

He had thought the Blackseer sitting in the old man's 'future' had been content with controlling the heart, but evidently, he had guessed wrong. "Make your demands. Make it quick or they'll be meaningless."

"I see a deal where you give it the future of the O4 Council." — "A third." — "Half." — "Deal. Now do it."

The Blackseer pulled on his control. The real Heart of Rot was with the O5 Council now. A concession they had to make to keep Autumn hidden from the wider Foundation. Of course, they had not left it without a working they could use to call on it, bound by the Foundation's nature.

They had stopped doing the cutoffs in the main clearing. Each Impasse-induced name surgery left behind a scar on their little world. Now a second rift opened next to the one left behind by his liberation. The Impasse struck true. The voices in the wind scattered. Some died.

Feallen was no more.

The representatives stood in shock, but the title of the Autumn Court's ruler was not gone. It was split in three. It would now gravitate towards another three-piece of authority. Aevrendhíl's pieces did as instructed.

"I accept the title of Fe/eal/len," declared the O4 Council/Owings/Head Shoulders Knees No Soul.

The Captain would have been a better fit, the three Leaders of Owings home mirroring the new three leaders of the Autumn Court. No one would claim that Aevrendhíl was incapable of improvising.

"I believe this trial has become unnecessary."

"Yes," spoke Fe/eal/len. "An entity cannot stand trial to itself."

"What is the meaning of this, Aevrendhíl?"

"I'd have assumed it to be rather obvious. Let me spell it out for you. I have solved the stagnation of our ruling title. Now the Court may fully prosper."

An advisor with a distinct beard stared at him in disbelief. "Solved? You have killed those that were still trapped under that title."

"If you have nothing important to discuss, you may find me in my quarters." Aevrendhíl turned on his heels, with the full intention to go.

"You will go nowhere."

Aevrendhíl turned his head. "Under whose authority?"

"It is customary for Feallen to listen to his advisors," recited the top hat.

"Feallen is gone. Do you see our ruler standing here?"

At last the depth of their folly became clear to them. No ruler existed that was beholden to the Court's customs, but united the holders of the title's shards could still speak with its authority. In the next months, the roles of the three would crystalize. Fe would oversee Early Autumn, that which once was. Eal would reign High Autumn, that which ceases in every way. Len would handle Late Autumn, that which would not be.

The last advisor, distinguished by his monocle, stepped forward. "I believe there still are some questions about the just concluded trial. What was that about an entity that could not stand against itself."

Just like him, no Fae of Autumn would ever stand in defeat. If he was correct, then their angle was to reopen the trial so as to trap Fe in it indefinitely.

"I believe the entity our ruler was referring to was the Foundation."

"Nonsense, the Foundation is, was, our host at best." The beard, again.

"And what a beautiful host it is. Already we have corrupted a twelfth of the Foundation's upper liege. It will take less than a year for all of them to fold. What organization I say is a better host of decay than the Foundation? And with their vast resources, we will finally speak from a place of authority with the powers that be."

He raised his arms.

"If Autumn can't rise then we'll just have to drag the world down until no one stands above us."

He got to them. After all, they were the same as he. His wants were their wants.

The advisor adjusted his monocle. "Well. That is certainly quite a plan. But it is nothing more at this point. We can agree that we will be one with the Foundation when all of O4 has been converted, but that is not yet the case."

Aevrendhíl nodded stiffly. "Have it your way."

Another impediment. They would hold Fe in a trial against the Court indefinitely. It would be most uncouth of him to point out after he just played that card. Sure, for the next year, he had to bargain with the advisors to get Fe temporarily excused from their trial, but it was of no import in the long run.

Aevrendhíl excused himself and made his way to his quarters. He had not managed to take his fourth step when Fe briefly stumbled.

Aevrendhíl kept walking. Without the attention of the others, he grabbed for the bond of his most recent subordinate. The Avatar stumbling could only mean that a weight had been put on the shoulders of the O4 Council. Through the esoteric eyes of the Avatar, he glimpsed how the first Level 4 Personnel were becoming aware of that weight.

Thousands of miles away the O5 Council had held a vote to dissolve the Foundation and with it the Veil. A laughable proposal. An organization like the Foundation was incapable of change. And yet the vote had ended in a perfect tie, the last vote in the hands of the O4 Council.

This could not be.

The O4 Council, the real O4 Council and not his tailor-made avatar, would vote in a month. Not more than a sixth of them would be under his control by then. Too little to change course. The higher echelon of the Foundation tended to lean more progressive than their twelve immortal leaders.

And just like that, Aevrendhíl's absolute authority slipped from his grasp. The Heart would be out of reach, with the working broken by the Foundations change. He owed half of O4 to Arceo's future. Would that Council even exist when he could pay that debt? Never mind that he would now never go out of that arrangement of split authority with the advisors.

A creeping feeling of dread came over him. If they would go as far as dissolving the Veil, might that even mean the return of Summer?

Fall Witness, Part 1

Cycle of Seasons

Brings The Hunt