"Because the humans invented sifblades, of course. They discovered the only substance on earth that could sap the energy of an Aeriel faster than it could be replenished. Humans got hold of the only thing that could kill an Aeriel and made it into a lethal weapon. After that, the outcome of the war was a foregone conclusion." It came out almost like a piece of recitation, a ballad that had been drilled into their memories since they were old enough to walk, since the first day of school. "Is there a point to this?"
"There are multiple points to this, the first being one of common sense, which we seem to have traded for an ego boost somewhere along the way. After centuries of research in thousands of laboratories around the world, the modern sifblade still cannot kill an X-class Aeriel with a single stroke. Which is why Hunters fight in teams of four, as I'm sure you'd know. You need multiple hits to take down a single X-class with state-of-the-art sifblades – the product of six centuries of technological development. Now imagine the sifblades used by the human armies who fought during the Rebellion – if you can at all call such a ragtag bunch an army. Those things were nothing like modern sifblades. They were cruder than the toys they hand civilians in those ridiculous 'self-defence' classes – nothing any self-respecting Hunter would be caught dead with.
"The humans outnumbered the Aeriels, yes. But not by half the numbers we have now. Most of the Aeriels fled to Vaan and the human population has multiplied by leaps and bounds over the centuries. And despite all of this, with all our numbers and all our technology, we are still unable to conquer the few Aeriels that stayed behind on earth. So you tell me, my boy: how did a bunch of untrained revolutionaries overthrow an empire of tyrannical demigods, wielding weapons scarcely more powerful than modern toys?"
Ruban shifted in his chair, his mouth drawing into a line as he narrowed his eyes at the professor. He didn't know why, but Dawad's questions were making him uncomfortable. "What're you saying then, prof? How did the Founding Fathers drive the Aeriels from earth?"
A corner of Dawad's mouth quirked up into the ghost of a smile. "That's the point, my lad. They didn't. The Aeriels just left."
Ruban gaped at him. "What?"
"Well, most of them, anyway. As you can see, there are always a few exceptions."
Ruban couldn't help it, he laughed. "So...what? You're saying the Rebellion never happened? That everything we know of human history today is one elaborate lie? Some kind of super-detailed, globe-spanning long con pulled on us by...who? Our forefathers?"
Dawad frowned at him as though he were a particularly dim-witted child. So he was the one being childish here, was he?
"Of course not, Ruban. Obviously there was a Rebellion. One in which the humans, led by the Founding Fathers, fought very valiantly. It was a war which they won. All I'm saying is that the Rebellion wasn't a war between humans and Aeriels. It was a war between the humans and Tauheen, backed by a few of her close associates. Nobody else gave a damn."
"Are you even trying to make sense at this point?"
Dawad drew in a deep breath, as if bracing himself to deliver a long lecture. Ruban recognised the gesture from the numerous hours spent taking notes in the various classrooms of Bracken, trying vainly to keep up with the seemingly endless volley of random thoughts interwoven with obscure trivia that comprised most of the Kanbarian academic's discourses. He had to link his fingers together to keep them from reaching for a notebook.
"I know you'll find this hard to believe, my boy. And considering the experiences you've had – that we've all had, to one extent or another – I don't blame you. But I've spent my life studying Aeriel history and culture, and here's the thing. Aeriels as a race are not predisposed to aggression. Or violence.
"Evolutionarily speaking, they never needed to be. I mean, it's not like they ever had anything to compete for. They were born with immortality – with all the resources they needed to survive and then some.
"They originated in Vaan. You know what it was called back in the day when humans were allowed access to it? Don't look so surprised, Ruban," the old man laughed. "There was a time when humans and Aeriels didn't hate each other, you know. It was called 'The Realm of Eternal Sunshine'. Not some fanciful description thought up by a poet, either. That's literally what it was – what it is – a dimension where the sun never sets.
"On earth, Aeriels were stronger, faster and more resilient than any other being in creation, including humanity. What predator did they have to fear, to fight off? They needed neither food nor water to survive. The only resource they did require – sunlight – was available in abundance in both the realms. They were literally born with the problem of plenty.
"What I'm trying to say is this. Aeriels were created stronger, faster, cleverer than humans; better than us in every way but one. The one thing that gave humanity an edge over the Aeriels. Can you guess what it was?"
Ruban shook his head. He wasn't sure he could have spoken if he had wanted to. He felt dizzy, overwhelmed.
"Ambition. Drive, passion, desire – whatever you choose to call it. The motivation to better ourselves, to improve our lot in life. The thing that drives all innovation, all technological and social development, and all conflict. The want for more: more than what we were given, the hand we were dealt by nature.
"The Aeriels...they were dealt a better hand than any other species in existence, so they never really developed those traits. They were born with everything, so they never learned to want for more, to want to improve themselves or their lot. They had no drive, no ambition; no real passion beyond the fulfilment of immediate hedonistic desires or aesthetic fancies.
"They weren't tyrannical rulers, Ruban. They were barely rulers at all," Dawad laughed, as if remembering an old joke.
"What'sthat supposed to mean?" Ruban asked, trying to keep his spiralling thoughtsunder control.