III

The Ambassadors

Rafael and his military escorts passed through the guarded doorway of the Tower of Unity- the king studied the magnificent tower in awe. The entire thing was made of pixie glass, which means the materials came from the Water District. Lyveria probably funded it, too. The Land District had no money or resources to spare, so he supposed it wasn’t that odd that the tower's location became its only real claim to land culture. That was always the nature of the Land District, wasn't it?

And the Sky District had no culture, so what could it have possibly contributed anyway?

Rafael walked up the magnificent pink staircase- the one designated to him- parallel to the green and gold ones lining the rest of the tower's circular walls. The glassy, marble material clicked against his boots and echoed throughout the busy tower, bouncing around with a resonating hum that sent shivers down his spine with every step. After a full moon of travelling by carriage through the dead south of the land district, this one tower was comparatively so pleasant, so well tuned and designed, that it almost made the entire journey worth it.

With each step, as Rafael walked closer to the circular hole in the ceiling from which the sunlight was streaming in, Rafael felt more and more like a King. As if the hum of his footsteps were cheering him on, within moments, he felt like he was meant to be here. Like the stage had been set for him to steer his kingdom towards a bright and glorious future, as its King and its leader.

That is what the tower did to people. That is the feeling that those staircases were made to instill, and Rafael knew it. But it didn't matter, because he had what it took to back those feelings up. He had to- or his wife would not have let him get this far.

It was only when he finally reached the roof, that anxiety began setting back in. Standing there waiting for him were a motley group of land-dwellers. About six of them stood and chatted amongst themselves. Each of them, born to different races, dispositions, and lifestyles, seemed completely out of place standing next to their neighbor. But all together, they somehow emanated an aura of almost intimidating unity. This aura made him realize just how little he knew about these people, or these meetings. It reminded him that for all his prestige, he was little more than a fish out of water standing on this roof.

The Ambassadors' conversations drifted off as they noticed Rafael's arrival. Most of them bowed respectfully to him (though two of them did not, for reasons he would surely learn over time,) and he bowed in return. Rafael looked to the sky. The sun was nearly overhead, which meant he was still early. While he did not expect the Head General to be late to this meeting by any means, it still seemed strange that Rafael would show up before him. After all, it was much more of an ordeal for him to get here, assuming he didn't waste his mages' effort transporting him through magic. All Rey had to do was fall out of the sky- it should take no more than half an hour.

So, Rafael and The Ambassadors waited, until finally, a silhouette cast a shadow over Rafael, blocking the sun as Rey Za-Hel landed on the roof of the tower.

Rafael looked at Rey oddly as he brushed off his wings, and The Ambassadors saluted his arrival. Wasn't he supposed to land on the ground, and take the staircase like he had? Wasn't that the whole point, for the three of them to come up from the same place, as equals?

Not long after Rey landed, a scrawnier, younger looking Aarakocra man also landed behind him. That's odd- Rafael thought- didn't the head General usually come to these meetings alone, as a show of confidence? He hadn't heard much about the land negotiations, but his wife had told him that much.

The Aarakocra boy was, almost as soon as he landed, nervously pecking and scratching at his feathers, clicking and whistling as his head and hands twitched involuntarily. Rey seemed pretty tense himself, passing quick glares at the boy while he tried to keep his composure.

Nervous Aarakocra were a funny thing to behold. As soon as one loses its cool, it turns the whole room into a ruffled mess of twitches, trills, and obsessive self-grooming. You could walk into a bar full of Aarakocra, scare one, and within a minute, the entire room will sound like a rainforest as the birds involuntarily spout nonsense in their native tongue. Though, it didn't happen often, as the Aarakocra were perhaps the toughest, most well disciplined group of people Solevi had ever seen. Perhaps that was part of the reason why.

Rey was clearly holding back his own urges while his friend was having his little episode. Finally, Rey turned around to face the boy, and snapped at him.

"Cut that shit out, Men!" Rey grumbled. "You don't have to- click- do anything, just stand still and shut up!"

Men? Ah, that's right. Men Za-Hel. This was his son, then. Poor kid, this must be his first time, too.

Rey Za-Hel turned back around to face Rafael and The Ambassadors, returning the salute he had been given not long ago. Finally, the three groups stepped forward, meeting in the center of the tower.

"It's an honor to finally meet you all." Rafael began. "I've heard quite a few stories about you at the palace."

"Aye, I'm sure Genevieve had heaps to say about me when I wasn't around." Rey chuckled. "I'm- uh- sorry for your loss, Your Majesty."

"She was a magnificent woman." One of the Ambassadors added. "Our people owe a great deal to her compassion and level head. We were all lucky to have her when we did."

"Indeed we were." Rafael sighed. "Thank you. I can only hope I can keep from tarnishing her legacy in the short time I'll be standing in for her."

"And I can only hope that you can't." Rey grinned. A few Ambassadors laughed at the joke, but Rafael found it tasteless.

Rey and one of the Ambassadors held out their hands- the Ambassador’s hand was empty, but in front of Rey’s palm, the national crest of Heavenfell appeared in a runic white light. Rafael held out his own hand, and summoned the crest of Lyveria- with that, the Ritual Circle of Truth was cast- it would be much harder for any of them to lie to each other now.

"Now then," another Ambassador pulled out a small leather notebook. "King Rafael, last we saw Her Majesty, she had expressed interest in continuing the gradual erosion of Highland Field. Are we to assume your interests still lie in that area?"

"Actually, you should not." Rafael said. "My wife informed me some time ago that Silvershore residents had recently discovered a new kind of root, which has been used in elixirs with potent benefits for long-term mental health. Are you familiar?"

"Gleamroot?" An Ambassador asked. "Sure- I used it to bake, some two weeks ago."

"Well," Rafael continued, "Gleamroot has taken especially well to Aquatic preservation magic, and my wife has placed express interest in acquiring native soil for the plant, so that we may incorporate it into our own ecosystems. So, we'd like to focus on eroding Silvershore."

"That's ridiculous, Your Majesty." Rey butted in. "I've seen the stretches in which it grows, you wouldn't touch an inch of native soil unless you were to first take dozens of miles off of Silvershore. And that's assuming you're going in a straight line."

"Ah. I… was not aware." Rafael admitted.

"Wait-" An Ambassador cut in, "You visited Silvershore to see where gleamroot grows specifically? Why?"

"Because as soon as I heard of its existence, I knew the Water District would want it- and why."

Rafael said nothing, as the Ambassadors quickly put the pieces together.

"Mental health." One piped up. "Gleamroot is another lead on reversion research."

"I won't deny it." Rafael said. "My wife- all of Lyveria wants to take every opportunity we can to fix our… problem."

"Hm… understood." The first Ambassador wrote something down in his notebook. "And, General?"

"We intend on assimilating Clearbrooke at our nearest opportunity."

"I see." The Ambassador continued. "And, would that be East, or West Clearbrooke?"

"We want both of them. The entire city."

Rafael almost gawked at the bird. "The whole thing!? And you say I'd be asking too much for Silvershore?"

"Silvershore is leagues more valuable than Clearbrooke." Rey argued. "And it's important that we take both sides at the same time."

"I can think of a million reasons why you wouldn't want that. You want to bring both halves of a warring city into your nation at once? Your islands are going to tear each other apart, General!"

"That is precisely why we want them." Rey continued. "They've been killing each other for years now, because they've had no sufficient mediating force to stop them from tearing each other apart. Taking one half would be akin to picking a side- but if we take both, we will take it upon ourselves to settle their disputes and have both communities grow past their prejudiced grudges."

"I'm sorry, but that's absurd." Rafael laughed. "You think you can stop a civil war by pulling these people into the sky and sternly telling them to behave?"

One of the Ambassadors took a step beside Rafael. "You realize one of the things dividing them is West Clearbrooke's reluctance to accept any influence from you, right? By all means, wouldn't it be better to take the East, who are already half-expecting to leave us, and leave the westerners to their own devices?"

"No!" Rey scolded. "If we let those Isolationists do whatever they want, they're only going to get more extreme with their unrelenting pride! They've already caused the rest of the Land District undue strife. How long until they go from 'don't interact with other districts' to 'don't interact with other cities' to 'don't interact with other races?' They're basing their culture off of a dysfunctional mindset that needs to be rectified, for everyone's sake."

"By the gods-" Rafael groaned. "This is exactly what Genevieve told me you would sound like. 'Unrelenting pride?' You- of all people- accuse their pride of being problematic? Have you truly no idea how up your own ass you are? Because I'm having trouble hearing you from inside your stomach."

"Oh, I was hoping you'd share your wife's infatuation with self righteous playground insults." Rey cracked his knuckles. "I should have expected the Fish King to want to defend a city in the middle of segregating itself."

"Um, Your Majesties?" An Ambassador tried to step in, meekly.

"Segregation!?" Rafael clamored. "Of all the baseless low-blows- how could you possibly expect to peacefully end a civil war with such a childish view of what Clearbrooke wants!?"

"Clearbrooke doesn't know what they want! That's why they split themselves down the fucking middle! That city is setting itself aflame, and the Land District doesn't have the means to put it out! You don't let a fire like that burn out, Rafael, people are dying for it!"

"And when the Westerners refuse your generous offer? What then, General? Do you beat them into submission so they stop killing themselves? Is that how you intend to stop sewing war?"

"I'll do what I damn well have to-"

"STOP!" An Ambassador shouted, catching both men's attention at once. "That's more than enough from each of you. While you two were screaming at each other, the rest of us came up with a proposal for both of you."

The two leaders stood and listened as the Ambassadors whispered amongst themselves. The speaking Ambassador directed their focus with assertive presentation. Rafael was beyond impressed by how quickly someone with no real authority got him to shut up.

"Rafael, your priorities currently lie in the possession of Gleamroot, more so than the acquisition of land. Because of the amount of time you would have to dedicate to erosion in order to reach native soil, we will instead establish a trade route directly from Silvershore to the Fertile Floods, specifically to transport Gleamroot to Lyveria's food banks."

"That's reasonable, but not ideal." Rafael confessed. "Growing foreign Gleamroot from our own soil will be difficult, and less fruitful than native soil, by a considerable margin. On top of that, the Water District is still growing in population, we need to acquire some land, resources alone are not enough."

"Then you will continue erosion of Highland. But as we are gifting you this trade route- we expect that process to slow down. Considerably. Understood?"

"...Hm. I can agree to that. Understood." Rafael nodded.

"And, Rey Za-Hel." The Ambassador continued. "You will not directly take land within East or West Clearbrooke territory. There is a plot of flatland a few square miles wide, which technically falls out of city limits. There, you will draw your borders, and set up resources and shelter within the empty space. We will take it upon ourselves to tell the people of Clearbrooke about this, both East and West. Those who choose to take your shelter over the war-torn land of their home will become your citizens in two week's time."

"That island will be overwhelmingly full of easterners." Rey noted.

"Maybe so, but the people of both cities will see that you provided all people with an opportunity to escape from bloodshed, without encroaching on their land or politics. That will undoubtedly raise Sky District sympathy within the west and east."

"Hm…" Rey Za-Hel pondered. While he thought it over, Men Za-Hel walked up to the group, and spoke to his father.

"That's going to save lives, at the very least." The boy said. "Maybe we aren't ready to take the west yet, but we have time to get there."

"Careful not to give in to their compromises so easily." Rey advised. "The Ambassadors have their own agenda, and we can still leave here with more. But… you're right. Ending a war without the trust of the people you're saving will always have consequences. We'll agree to your terms."

"Perfect!" The Ambassador smiled, and clapped his notebook shut. "Then if neither of you have anything else to bring up, we'll start making preparations immediately."

The Ambassadors promptly flooded down their staircase, and Men Za-Hel rubbed his temples, his head clearly still spinning from everything he had just listened to.

"I'm gonna have to pay attention to this drivel regularly?" Men asked.

"Every time the three of us agree it's important to meet again. And until then, you'll be spending most of your free time studying the other two nations so you can plan ahead, like I did with gleamroot."

"Ugh… let's just sink our islands into the ocean and get it over with." Men jested. 

Rafael stared at Rey Za-Hel, who was frustratedly fiddling with his breastplate, and watching The Ambassadors leave.

The General's words rang out in Rafael's head, repeatedly. 'If I need to beat Clearbrooke into submission, I'll do what I have to.'

It worried Rafael to no end how obviously eager he was to bring force into what was supposed to be a matter of diplomacy. Had The Ambassadors not stepped in, would he have tried to say he was taking Clearbrooke no matter what issues he had with it? Such would be an act of war- a betrayal of the agreement that established these meetings- and The Ambassadors- in the first place.

The Sky District was a barbaric place, he knew that much. But he never thought that their leader would step so close to declaring war just for the sake of it. There was no mistaking it; Rey was looking for a reason to provoke the nations to arms. His demeanor betrayed him.

That was the balance he and his wife had been holding all this time. Her job was to be his equal in aggression, so no one could take the upper hand over the Land District. But Rey clearly thought nothing of Rafael. It was a matter of time before this bird tried to soar right over him.