Chapter 3 (Part III): Mass(acred) Media

"I just love Caelia so much, and I fear for my country."

- William Alexander Shawnitty, content creator for The Vulpine Post criticizing a proposed tax increase to restore Caelia's failing roadways and bridges.

Vidi had been partly right about journalism in Kingstown. Indeed, Syliva held a controlling interest in one of the most influential heralds, The Vulpine Post, sharing control primarily with two of King Hylas’ maternal cousins, Edward and Carl Loche. It had proven an excellent investment over the years, both because it gave her a fair bit of influence over the information flowing out of Kingstown into the surrounding countryside, and because it kept the ruling family’s fate tied to her own.

Of course, there were times when the Vulpine’s editors imagined themselves to be too respectable to run a story the way she wanted, or when the Loche brothers felt a particular story was too negative towards their family. For those circumstances, Syliva had The Broad Beard Press, a gossip rag she had acquired years ago and begun reinventing to suit her purposes.

The Beard’s writers and editors had, essentially, no standards to speak of – in fact, even before selling out to Syliva their motto had been, ‘The Story Always Comes First’ – facts, evidence, and reason came in as distant seconds. The small local periodical had been regarded as a joke by most of Kingstown’s citizens, a font of conspiracy theories and demagogic editorials, but that had changed under Syliva’s patronage.

One of her sharpest moves, in this regard was embodied in one of the men who stood before her now, Mikhail Bran Baryd. Baryd was known in polite circles as “scum”, but to Syliva he was a valuable tool. She wouldn’t have said he was worth his weight in gold - but possibly silver. She loomed silently as Baryd argued with one of The Vulpine’s editors, Millon Crasell.

“Don’t get all noble now, Mil,” Baryd said, “The Vulpine needs the Beard now more than we need The Vulpine.”

“The Vulpine’s readership and listeners eclipse the Broad Beard’s audience by a hundred fold. You’re tabloid is a joke in this city.”

“A hundred fold? Don’t kid yourself, Mil. And you won’t keep that edge long if you stop featuring Beard staff as commentators.”

The Vulpine Post had been Syliva’s herald-of-choice to promote the story about the alchemists’ plot against her, but it had been writers for the Beard who had taken that premise, linked it to the university, and inflated it into a grand conspiracy against the kingdom. Syliva had leaned on The Vulpine many times in the past year to circulate the Beard’s editorials and personal commentaries as ‘shared content’. Being shared by The Vulpine gained the Beard’s writers’ greater credibility and wider distribution than they could have achieved alone.

“Well it’s done,” Millon said, “we never should have started sharing another publisher’s content in the first place. That’s not how journalism works.”

Syliva hissed, “Millon, Millon, Millon… do we need to have this conversation again? Covering other publisher’s coverage as news is what finally put The Vulpine ahead of The Kingstown Herald. It made The Vulpine the final word in news – why listen to The Kingstown’s criers or pick up their papers, when everything of value would be summarized in The Vulpine? It simply saves people time… and has nearly starved out The Kingstown Herald.”

“Well they used to call it plagiarism!” Millon said.

“You always cite your sources,” Syliva said, “It’s not as if The Kingstown Herald’s work goes unrecognized – it just goes unpaid for.”

“Regardless, I’m done ‘sharing’ garbage from the Broad Beard, and I’m done giving their writers space in our printings.”

“It’s not given,” Baryd pointed out, “Madame Syliva pays for those commentaries to be printed.”

“On a piece by piece basis,” Millon said, “So it pleases me to formally refuse any further contracts involving the Beard’s writers.”

“I really think this hostility towards my staff is unwarranted,” Baryd said, “the Beard’s stories sell - you know it, everyone knows it - especially to audiences outside the city.”

“Because people outside the city don’t know what a shit reputation you have!”

Baryd feigned shock, “We have an excellent reputation Mr. Crassel. Do I need to remind you that we broke the story about the university riots?”

“Because you started the riots!” Millon shouted.

“That accusation is just absolutely ridiculous; the worst sort of liberal garbage. Really? Blaming us for the actions of a bunch of entitled brats!”

The accusation wasn’t ridiculous. In fact, the riots had been a great example of what made Baryd so much more valuable than the typical human. Baryd had once worked for Caelia’s guard doing undercover work, and though his career had come to an unfortunate end due to his… initiative, the same qualities which had him shunned from law enforcement made him ideal for the sort of journalism Syliva valued. Baryd didn’t just look for stories or investigate them, he was forward-thinking enough to go out and make them. Any of the Beard’s writers could simply make things up, and they frequently did, but Baryd and his former partner, Medes, who’d remained in the guard, could bring at least some measure of reality to even the most ridiculous of fictions.

Millon seethed silently for a moment, before responding, “I will be frank. The Vulpine Post appreciates Madame Syliva’s role in our community and her generous patronage, and has thus far repaid that generosity by communicating her thoughts on matters to our very large audience, both inside and outside of Kingstown. We have done this despite the fact that it’s led many people to regard us as little more than her personal public relations department, and while our readership continues to grow, many individuals working at The Vulpine, including myself, are not deaf to such accusations. Being pressured to provide that same sort of service to the hacks at Broad Beard Press does not sit well with many of us, and it never has. The sorts of things you’re asking us to run now have more than crossed the line; I will not allow it.”

“So?” Baryd asked, “You do remember you’re just an editor..?”

“An editor who was working at The Vulpine while you were still learning your ABCs, Baryd,” Millon said, “That may not mean much to Syliva, but it does to Ed and Carl, and between them they still control The Vulpine.”

“Oh?” Syliva quirked a horned brow, “You feel that, given the opportunity to make your case to the Loche’s, they would side with you?”

“I know they would.”

Syliva nodded thoughtfully, and then snapped forward like a heron plucking a fish from a pond. Her jaws snapped shut around Millon’s torso, the pressure crushing the air from his lungs and stifling any screams or cries for help. He writhed in her maw, skewered on the few, large spike-like teeth that lined her beak. His struggling splattered blood about the area as the smaller, razor-sharp teeth that filled the inside of her mouth sliced his flesh.

Syliva inhaled sharply through her nostrils and then, with a huff, spat him from her jaws in stream of flame that propelled him high into the air. He came apart midair, but most of the burning pieces cleared the castle wall and fell down to the lake below.

Syliva sat contently for a moment, cleaning the blood spatter from her jaws and outer teeth, as Baryd looked on. The man was definitely less distressed than the average member of his species, but still clearly unsettled. He finally asked, “What are you going to tell the Loche brothers?”

“That The Vulpine needs a new editor, of course,” Syliva said calmly.

“And when they ask about what happened to Millon…?”

“I’ll tell them the truth,” Syliva said, “I fired him.”