There are plenty of conspiracy theories about. Ideas about how power really works and who holds it behind the curtains. They don’t know so they have to guess. They get so close sometimes and at others they are hilariously wrong. They don’t have the perspective to see the world as it is. They are ants trying to appreciate the world as an eagle above might see it. There too many obstructions, too much just out of sight. They could never appreciate the scale of the truth. I find it hard to fathom myself, and its my job to keep track of this stuff. It is my job to keep humanity in check.
The year is 1120 and it seems that many of the ideas we have taken for granted are finally spreading across the borders. The publication of Liber Abaci by Leonardo Pisa has certainly had an effect on the mathematical theory at large. Shame, exclusive knowledge of such kept us ahead of the curve. As important as what we know are the things that no one else does. With each secret there is a power for the bearer. We hold many secrets and much power. It must not be known, nor can we be known for anonymity is our greatest strength.
In these times a magician can be executed on the same earth where once they were called messiahs. Times have changed, there is no more faith in the gods of old. Monotheism rules from the Papal throne in Rome. The witch hunts spread like fire through the land, burning through the ties that bind society. All faith in companionship is gone as men cast their wives into the fire or drown them in the ducking chair. As terrifying as these times are for many every situation can be manipulated for the benefit of our organisation. In these times of terror and tribunal we can dispose of all who stand in our way without lifting much more than a finger to accuse them. A politician who’s policies compromise our interests can be removed by the mob in a cycle that repeats itself until we are satisfied by the leadership of the moment.
The organisation’s means of procuring wealth and power are to say the least underhanded. Any means of acquisition are sanctioned as is any use of power that does not risk the secrecy or influence of the organisation. Some do not approve of using power beyond the expansion of the organisation, I do. I am an architect as well as a member of the organisation. It is the public face of my wealth and influence. In truth architecture is my true passion and the organisation is my means of facilitating the drive. I watch the facades of these creations as they come into being. The light of the sun reveals these new monoliths and I see my work down every street of my city. I push the limits of the materials and when they fail it only means I have the chance to rebuild. Most are surprised that I take on tasks as small as planning small houses and local bars. Why not? Why would I allow small houses to ruin my view of the city? I will be the first to be solely responsible for the architecture of an entire city.
My aims in architecture have put me at odds with my contemporaries within the organisation but here again my will has always proved stronger. These rivals disappear in various accidents leaving me free to do my own thing. I have at times conspired with fellows who share a common goal. One of the organisations members runs several stonemason groups whose profits were being hurt by a fellow conspirator. The man in question was stuck in the past, in love with the way things once were, seeking to restore a way of the world that had passed for good reason. He lies in the foundations of a building that rests on his former home. Change cannot be held back. It must be embraced as I have embraced a union with the stonemason leader with whom I work hand in hand to resurface the city.
Our unity has helped us stand against the challenges posed by other ambitious conspirators. Our reputation now serves us well for while we can never state openly our part in the demise of other conspirators it is unspoken knowledge nonetheless. In the past we have dealt with others who intended to merge the city with their own personal empire. The private power of conspirators is unlimited by the laws we live by. Control of the world not held in the name of the organisation can still be wielded by those with ambitions beyond simple wealth.
One whose obsession was flora built a mountain round his home and planted its earth with tropical flowers that they might be all he ever saw. His downfall came with the heavy rain when the water poured down the new mountain into his home. This floral folly was told as a testament to the potential for use and misuse of power via the organisation. I doubt the truth of this story but I’m sure it has its parallels with a failure on a scale as epic.
While my accomplice the stonemason aspires to nothing beyond wealth I feel safe in the assumption that I will not join the ranks of fallen conspirators anytime soon. He is the only man with any knowledge of my means and motivations which may be the end of him someday. I will not risk my legacy for complacent simplicity. He is the enemy I keep close to watch. When I need him gone, he will be dealt with.
Without him I would lose strength of numbers and the convenience of his own power. I could perhaps replace his role as master of the stonemasons with someone ignorant to the organisation. An allegiance could be formed with others beyond the city when I have exhausted the canvas here. These are all possibilities but for now, as far as he is concerned, the stonemason is my friend and ally.