General Goulet stopped his walking, shifting and moving his Goliath to sit next to a tree. He motioned for Grimsley to do the same and soon both their battlesuits were propped against some of the few trees dotting the road. "It is such a shame," Goulet started as he exited his cockpit, "that the forests that once existed were removed just for this path, and that his path, in turn, has become unused from modernization and border disputes. What a waste. One can only wonder what those trees were even turned into. Chairs? Decorations? Did we need those things at the time or could we have done without them?"

"I only wonder how much further we go. Where are we traveling to?" Grimsley scanned the horizon, finding nothing but open fields, with the mountains a fading image behind them. He felt uneasy the entire time he was here though, moving deeper and deeper into Artisan territory. At any moment he suspected a group would fly out and imprison him or worse, kill him. The tunnel the pair had travelled in had popped up through a cave in a mountain, spitting them out into these plains. Since then they had merely wandered onwards, with Goulet insisting he knew where they were going.

"It isn't much further." Goulet knelt down on the ground, glad to be outside of his metal suit. Grimsley stood next to him, watching him curiously. "The tunnels begin again soon, but this time we will go deeper, closer to the source. I didn't want to spend too long in there when we weren't close to the source."

"Why not?"

"They knew about us of course. Sooner or later they would have sent something to stop us and so if we were to casually wander back out of the tunnels, they would think nothing of us, not that they give us much credit to begin with."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Grimsley cocked his head to the side, feeling like a stupid little kid with all of his questions and his lack of understanding.

Goulet simply laughed, taking out his pipe and sticking it in the corner of his mouth. "What does that mean, what does that mean..." Goulet took in a long drag then puffed out a ring of smoke. "I am a scholar, Grimsley. I'm sure you have figured that out by spending this much time with me. My life is studying, learning, and gaining as much knowledge as I can. While there isn't much on the Jahari in the annals of history, from what I have gathered I can piece together their history and imagine where they fit in the grand scheme of the earth."

The general held up his hand as Grimsley went to say something, silencing him so Goulet could continue. "There is an ancient belief from an old country in the Eastern United States. The people of that country felt there were five elements in the world and they used these to explain almost everything in the world. They were water, wood, metal, earth, and fire. I'm sure you've heard of some variation of four or five elements in your lifetime, correct?" Goulet opened an eye to check Grimsley, but the young man shook his head. "Hmm, regardless, I strongly believe that each of the countries on this earth now are tied to these elements. Up until recently, I was always missing my fifth to prove my point."

More puffs of smoke floated up in the air between the two pilots. Grimsley tried to watch his mentor intently but his eyes were drawn to a hawk that circled in the sky nearby. "Each country," Goulet continued, "could be tied to an element. The Artisans are the wood, strong and sturdy yet varying in forms. We are always growing and shifting, changing shapes and rebounding from each strike down. While the Artisan Confederate has a national religion, we have many splinter organizations within that, with more appearing each year. The Enians would be metal, abundant in resources and that which they have crafted, the Enian Federation was a construct that took many years to create. Your way of living had to be built and it was forged from a singular belief, one consistent resource, just like how metal can be shaped into so much." Goulet paused for a moment to make sure Grimsley was still paying attention and the youth tore his eyes away from the hawk, nodding along. "The Eastern United States are water. Water is still, unmoving and serene. It holds itself in position and maintains itself for eons. They rely on tradition and knowledge of the past. But, just like water, when moving they will erode anything and, in some cases, can create a torrent of destruction. Dalarcya, to the west, is the earth. They are a people bound to the land, dependent on the arable portions they can find. They are strong though, and everlasting, and their mentality reflects their unity with their own lands. The last element, the one I was always lacking, was fire. Now I can associate it with the Jahari, fierce and warlike, they want to bring destruction and aggression. Their solution to everything is to burn it, with no respect for what they ignite. Do you follow now?"

Grimsley sat for a bit, processing everything that had been said, running it through his head over and over again. He would begin to nod then shake his head, going back and forth between decisions and understandings. Goulet finally sighed, taking his pipe out to refill it with his personal collection of herbs. "Like I said before, the Jahari do not give us much respect or credit. They hate humans, all of them, and care little about our borders or our beliefs. Their only goal is to make things burn. That sounds like fire to me."

The hawk dove downwards through the air, skimming along the grass before snatching a mouse and shooting straight back up. It was extremely rare to see wildlife in the world. Even as a boy who had grown up in a farming town, animals were a novelty that Grimsley had rarely experienced. "Why do the religions matter to the elements, Goulet?"

Goulet shrugged in response, sucking on his pipe some more. "Religion is such a curious thing. Perception is all that matters in this world Grimsley, remember that. What I see, how I see it, and what I have been told, shape my understanding of this world. To a normal soldier, perhaps I would look at you as an Enian enemy, someone I must kill immediately due to orders. Or, if I knew about the recent alliance against the Jahari, I would see you as a comrade, a fellow warrior in this crusade against inhuman monsters. Or perhaps I wouldn't see them as inhuman monsters, but simply as an aberration, of humans who have changed and grown on their own. Maybe I would see everyone that way and would refuse to kill. Perhaps I would believe that only those given divine right have the authority to murder others. Which one is it?"

Grimsley scratched his head, his brain swollen from information and pounding. "That...doesn't really answer my question."

"Let's take your country as our example." Goulet began to scribble in the dirt with his finger, drawing up borderlines for nations. "Do you know how it was formed?"

"Refugees from the French Empire after Ishiyama was executed in place of the prince." Grimsley could recite the history of Enianism without thinking twice about it. His aunt had been in the choir of the local church back in Easley and he had been through a thousand lectures on the religion.

"Good, good, that is what you were taught. That's good." Goulet drew furiously on the ground, recreating the French Empire. "Where did you learn about that?"

"Well that's the fundamentals of Enianism, in the Book of Ishiyama."

"Who wrote that book?"

"Saint Enia."

"Is Saint Enia a reputable scholar and historical source?" Goulet looked up from his work and smiled at a baffled Grimsley.

"What does that mean?"

"What I mean is how much do you actually know about Enia? Or about Ishiyama? You know the times they were alive, humans were very good at keeping track of history, largely in digital formats and sometimes in print. There are records of those people existing and of lots of things happening involving them, none of which come from that holy book of yours." Grimsley had never felt a great attachment to Enianism. It had always sort of been there in his life, floating around in the background. While he would never have claimed to be the most devout believer, he certainly wasn't opposed to the faith. But listening to Goulet was pulling at his heart, at his mind. It made him almost...angry, a bit furious at someone to pretentiously call into question the beliefs of an entire nation.

"Your version of the story," Goulet went on, "involves Ishiyama as a slave who caused a lot of problems, was drafted to war, refused to fight, and then put himself up for execution. I'm not saying that story is not true. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. How you understand that story changes how you look at history, and, in turn, at the present day. Considering that the Artisan Confederate is formed of the remnants of the French Empire, you'd think the two nations would never get along, but for some reason we can ally ourselves on a whim to fight against other nations." Goulet shook his head at the stupidity he perceived in the world. "I have a different version of events, one that shows up in historical records and documents and government files. Care to learn?"

Grimsley knew this was a trap he didn't want to get into, but he had to. Questioning your faith was one of the greatest sins in Enianism; was listening to Goulet considered a heretical act? Then again, he didn't have to believe anything Goulet said. This could have easily been an Artisan trick to sway Grimsley's allegiances to his country. After all, it had been the Artisans who attacked Easley not too long ago. "Tell me."

"Well, Matteo Ishiyama certainly existed. He was a miner, a slave, that's all very true. But he was exactly that, just a slave. He was not the first or only slave drafted into war. The French Empire did it all the time to keep the slave population in check and save French troops. It was common practice in a few countries at that time." Goulet resumed his drawings, illustrating his words and Grimsley watched with apprehension. "So he was sent to war like so many others but, unlike many others, he survived. Him and a few other slaves. And they all got up on stage and were to be awarded medals of honour for their contributions to the war before going back down to the mines. Well, the prince was giving out the medals and when he got to Ishiyama, he refused to accept the medal. He said that it was not his country he served, but that he fought for his prison. Now, the prince of the emperor at that time, one of many sons of the emperor, was fairly sympathetic to the slave issue in the French Empire, along with portions of the population. It was only recent in those days that slavery had even been re-instated, what with the fall of the human rights bill."

"That statement Ishiyama made by refusing the medal," Goulet explained, "was inspiration that the prince focused a campaign around. It was the prince at the time who took to rallying others in support of abolishing slavery. There were no practices about proper treatment of others or great sacrifice. Just a concern to free the slaves, not that that is anything minor granted." Goulet stopped for a bit to smoke, watching Grimsley with curiosity. The youth was captivated by the story, eyes wide and bright. "Well the emperor buried Ishiyama, moving him to work in the deepest parts of the mines in order to try and get him out of public sight, what with him being the prince's icon for the movement. Not long after that, there was a mine collapse and, what do you know, Ishiyama is dead from a rockslide. Of course, the people's protests escalated after that, mostly due to the collapse and not entirely because Ishiyama happened to be the one in the middle of it all. Protests turned to riots, riots turned into civil war. This is a natural process many countries have gone through in their history over people versus the government and in the case of the French Empire, they dissolved when the emperor was killed in a raid. This left four sons to battle for control of the country, and all of them now battled for public support to craft a bigger army than their siblings. In the end, it came down to two sides: one was of former French Empire soldiers and government workers who supported a return to form, while the other was a man of the people known as Enia."

Grimsley blinked as he heard the name, gasping quietly to himself. As much as he wanted to deny it, he was engrossed in the story now, his fears and concerns disappearing in lieu of a desire to learn the absolute truth, or at least the ending to the story Goulet was weaving. "Fascinating, isn't it?" Goulet winked at the boy, who shook himself out of his reverie and tried to look disinterested. "This Enia character, the prince, wasn't even the one who battled for freed slaves. No, he did learn something from his brother though, and took the story of Ishiyama and wrote a book about him, releasing it to most of the uninformed public. Using Ishiyama as a teacher of morals, a prophet of some kind, he brought together a group of followers, many of whom came from outside the French Empire, who were attracted by the prospect of a prophetic character. In the end, the two brothers, with their large forces, split the French Empire and spread outwards, making two new countries: the Enian Federation and the Artisan Confederate. Over time, Enia altered the book and the new religion he had crafted, adding in new portions about the dissolution of the French Empire. Very slowly, he shifted public perception, transforming the public memory from a bloody and horrific conflict into an exodus for morals. Different, no?"

The hawk flew by overhead again, coming down to roost in one of the trees. It dropped its catch into its nest, and little chirps could be heard by the two men. "Think about them." Goulet pointed upwards to the birds. "What do they know about the world? Nothing. Yet they know so much more than we do at the same time. They understand that life is about living, while we work so hard to make life about dying. They don't understand morals or values or religion or politics or prophets. They can't see figureheads and personalities and leaders. They simply worry about getting enough food to live another day and make babies." Goulet leaned towards Grimsley, grabbing the youth and pulling him in close. "People have strived to find the meaning of life for as long as they have been able to recognize they are alive. You know what it is? It's right above us. Whether your version of Enianism is right or mine is, doesn't matter to them. They won't argue over it or fight over it or dispute it. History is nothing more than what they ate the day before."

"What...what's your point in all this?" Grimsley kept bouncing between emotions, clenching his fists then loosening them, angry then sad then confused. None of it made much sense to him because he had never given it much thought before. He had simply gone to church with Aunt Shauna and sung the songs and read the books and followed the six duties and nothing more. Where they came from, why they existed, who crafted them, none of it ever came to mind.

"Hmm...my point...well I suppose it is that the knowledge that we humans have been given with is a great boon to our lives, but also an incredible burden. So long as we strive to taint that knowledge, to alter it or to teach according to our own bias, we will always have war and conflict and hate and rage. The Jahari were born of knowledge and exiled for knowledge. They fight us without knowing why they hate us and we fight them because we lack knowledge on them."

"So then what's the solution?" Grimsley's eyes suddenly burned with passion. He didn't care which version of the story was right or wrong anymore or even what it all meant. But he did understand one thing him and Goulet shared in common: a desire to end all war, and it fired him into action.

"That I do not know." Goulet's head drooped, embarrassed that he could not provide the ultimate answer. "Perhaps the goal is in proper education, in learning. If we could all understand ourselves and then each other, we would not need such fighting. My belief is that I will try to learn as much as I can and spread that knowledge and hope that it is enough. What do you believe in Grimsley?"

Images of Raven and Gretta flashed through Grimsley's mind, of the warship crashing to the ground and killing so many soldiers. He thought about the Red Scarf gang and of Porter and his friends in the sky. Then he thought about the Artisan forces who had threatened him and his family, of the war that had taken his father's life, and of the Jahari who stood to consume everything. Just knowing them wouldn't be enough...not for now at least. "I believe I will have to fight to protect those I love, until the day when they are safe."

Goulet grinned and lifted himself up off the ground, brushing away the dust and wiping out his drawings on the ground. "Then let us move forward Grimsley. The tunnels are not much further ahead, and I believe that day might be close at hand as well."