The Will of the Many (Hierarchy, #1)

by James Islington

CHAIN YOUR ANGER IN THE dark, my mother used to tell me, and it will only thrive.

The only one who ever seemed interested in whether I was filling my own potential, rather than exceeding that of others.

“They say that young men know they will die, but only old men believe it.

Sometimes I believe my resistance means something. Sometimes my anger keeps me warm as I tell myself that somehow, one day, I might figure out a way to repay the pain and loss I owe to Caten.

No man can truly learn, grow, or become wise within himself.”

All for a spectacle. A frivolity meant purely to entertain. Or, as my father would have insisted, to distract.

“Hate is its own violence, my prince. Your only choice is whether to let it hurt them, or you.”

Victims can still be enemies.”

YOU LET THEM STAND ON YOUR SHOULDERS, ALL FOR THE DREAM OF ONE DAY BEING ABLE TO STAND ATOP OTHERS’. EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW, DEEP DOWN, THAT IT IS AN ILLUSION. AS UNATTAINABLE FOR MOST OF YOU AS IT IS SELFISH.”

“A PYRAMID’S STRENGTH IS IN ITS FOUNDATION, NOT ITS PEAK.

The power to protect is the highest of responsibilities, Diago. When a man is given it, his duty is not only to the people he thinks are worthy.

“That’s the power of the Hierarchy—we do, because there is no standing apart. You fight the tyranny of the many, or you are one of them.”

“Silence is a statement, Diago. Inaction picks a side. And when those lead to personal benefit, they are complicity.”

“A man will always wonder what might have been, but a wise one recognises fortune when it comes. For all I left behind, life has not been unkind to me.”

“There comes a point in every man’s life where he can rail against the unfairness of the world until he loses, or he can do his best in it. Remain a victim, or become a survivor.”

“Nervousness means there’s a fear to be faced ahead, Diago. The man who is never nervous, never does anything hard. The man who is never nervous, never grows.”

“Whether the obstacles to our advancement arise from our ties or our actions, we need to learn to overcome them ourselves. It’s not fair, but nor is the world.”

“Do you think that every single Septimus stuck in their position is less talented than every single Sextus? Or even less talented than the Sextus they’re ceding to? A fair system only works if there’s an unbiased means of assessing merit. When there is no pride or selfishness involved.” He gives a soft snort, shaking his head. “Which means that fair systems cannot exist where people are involved.”

There are those who see what should be, and complain that they do not get their due. And then there are those who see what is, and figure out how to use it to their advantage. Or at the least, overcome it.”

“That’s the problem with people, though, isn’t it? They always think that other people are the problem.”

“You cannot be free if you are afraid to die.”

“They ask something small of you. A thing you would prefer not to do, but is not so terrible. You think you are working your way up, but in fact they are changing you. Moulding you into what they think you should be, one compromise at a time.”

“You think an Octavus who gives his Will is somehow less responsible than the Sextus who kills with it? The weak and poor endure in the Hierarchy because the alternatives are harder, not because there are none. They know the system is wrong, but they choose not to think or speak up or act because they ultimately hope that in their silence, they will gain. Or at the very least not have to give more than they have already given. They are driven by myopic self-interest and greed just as much as the senators and knights, and it’s as Melior said—you of all people should hate them for that. The decision may have been made by the few, Diago, but it’s the Will of the many that killed your family.”

“That’s the problem, Diago. If you do not hold them accountable, nothing will change. Don’t mistake inaction for neutrality.”

“I’ve learned two things tonight. One, that you are no longer the carefree boy I knew. And two, that you are still your father’s son.” He reaches over. Puts his hand on my shoulder. “That is enough for me.”

“Violence is no answer to grief,”

“Greed.” My father turned to me then, and his dark eyes held mine. The wind whipped us, a chill to it that far up. “Greed is by definition the moral ruler of the Hierarchy, Diago. All decisions are based upon it. It is not the strong who benefit in their system, no matter what they say—it is the weak. It is the ones willing to do anything, sacrifice anything, to rise. It rewards avarice and is so steeped in a wrong way of thinking that those within it cannot even see it.”

“Death is only meaningless if it does not change us, Vis.”