by Ajax Lygan
“The territorial agreement between each of the land kingdoms and the Empire of Ubi keeps our sovereign territory limited to ten miles off of our coasts. As coastal trade has increased and is fast becoming the primary means of trade, we need to expand our options. Space on land and on top of the sea is limited, but it is where commerce happens. Now I am unsure if most of you know, but Empress Poliko can surely attest, the sea is tens of thousands of feet deep, encompassing much more space than all of our kingdoms combined.”
“Oh Gods, you can’t be serious, Vatia,” Empress Poliko said, seeing where she was going with this.
“So, my final motion to be decided upon, is the splitting of territorial waters, touching the coasts to those kingdoms, giving them full control of the surface waters and up to ten miles below the surface. This still gives the Ubian Empire tens of thousands of miles of livable territory for all the inhabitants.” Queen Vatia took her seat with a pointed brow and a smug smile as she waited for the group’s response. Poliko’s laughter was clearly forced as she began a small clap.
“Well done, Vatia, I didn’t think that you, of all people, would show a complete lack of understanding and ignorance, but well it looks like I was wrong.” Empress Poliko stood from the table, crossing her arms. “You do understand that many Ubian’s species require surfacing just to breathe, don’t you? And what? You expect them to pay a tax, just to breathe?”
“It would drastically improve trade speed,” King Bogdim said, scratching under his chin.
“Not to mention the tourism we could bring into Belaphama,” King Khenba added.
“Hunger could be severely reduced with the expansion of fishing,” Alfonso said.
Empress Poliko froze with a grimace as she watched each of the leaders begin to fall behind Vatia’s motion. “You all can’t be serious. This is ridiculous. It would be like me coming onto land and saying the land underneath you is not your own.”
“Your majesty, that’s not at all what we’re discussing here,” King Wulvenson said. “Queen Vatia is only talking about the top of the water.”
“King Wulvenson, a bit of advice for you, sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut and give the impression that you’re stupid rather than to open it and remove all doubt.” Snickering laughter and whistles rolled through the group as King Wulvenson tried to comprehend Empress Poliko’s words.
Tempest once again slapped the scepter on the table. “All right, I think that’s enough. Let’s try to keep this civil, no matter how passionate we are. Does anyone else have anything to say before we move on to Lady Saïgra?”
With no further responses, save for lingering chuckles, Tempest extended his hand to the beautiful dryad.
“Honorable gentlemen and ladies,” she said, standing. “For those who do not know me, I am Lady Saïgra, emissary on behalf of the Firegrove and Queen Maileath. It has always been the Firegrove’s position to remain neutral in the affairs of other kingdoms. We have prided ourselves by remaining free and unblemished by many of the influences that tempt our world today. We live simple, humble lives in an effort to maintain inner peace and a carefree existence.”
She stood straight and proud. “However, Iðna is no longer the simple place it was when the grove first took root. It is a culmination of intertwined species and cultures, where the fallout from one devastating event can be felt in kingdoms on the opposite surface of the planet. Events that impact one of us, now impact all of us. It is for that reason that the Firegrove wishes to take its place as a member of the IRC, and participate fairly in our share of struggles, accomplishments, and victories.”
A light applause and words of encouragement filled the room as Saïgra took her seat. She took in a large breath and smiled at her peers’ congratulations. She looked toward Tempest and the two shared a moment as they locked eyes, the look saying everything that needed be said.
Queen Alyndra was next to stand, brushing her robe off before announcing her intentions. “It’s great to see many of you again and an honor to sit at this table as an equal. It has been weeks since my father’s passing, yet the wound is still fresh. The attack by The Cessation on Ashwreath left us scarred but stronger, and I know many of Meadow’s Crest’s people feel the same.”
Steel strengthened the beauty’s spine. “They fear what’s to come, with many of the nobility already reaching out to me for guidance. That’s why I would like to announce my intention of absorbing Meadow’s Crest, and all of its territories, under the protection of Ashwreath. I have brought with me letters signed by the majority of Meadow’s Crest nobility giving their consent for this annexation. And so, I look toward you all for final approval.”
Tempest noticed the room was rather indifferent about the proposal, except for the Meadow Crest’s immediate neighbors. King Häguin made no intention of hiding his ill will, nor did King Khenba. All in all, it seemed like Alyndra had some diplomacy to do later in the evening.
King Häguin and the two dwarven brothers, Dimitri and Ulthir Shieldbreaker, were the next to take a stand. “As you all know, we have spent much time, money, and resources to stop the infighting between the two Shieldbreakers,” King Häguin stated. “I’m proud to announce that we have all come to an agreement. Aerlanthir will purchase the island of Dorthomir for an undisclosed sum, following the council’s approval.”
Ulthir and King Orum’s eyes were lit with a fiery disdain, though for different reasons.
“Dimitri, what is this outrage?!” Ulthir shouted, nearly hitting King Bogdim with his arm. “I was told that you had come to finally surrender!”
Ulthir wasn’t the only one who displayed signs of anger, as King Orum jumped from his seat when he heard the news. “You greedy, piss mining, rock eater,” King Orum growled. “I give you multiple offers and you use them to leverage the next highest bidder? I should flay you where you stand.”
Dimitri remained calm and collected as he waved his arms at the two angry men. “King Orum, brother, this is just business. The people of Iðna are tired of our fighting. They need our resources; I am only giving them what they want.”
“You can’t do this, Dimitri!” Ulthir shouted. “Father wanted us to rule together as brothers. He would never have wanted us to sell our home.”
“Well, father’s corpse is bug food in a muddied mausoleum,” Dimitri snorted. “He doesn’t get a say anymore.”
“No respect for your ancestors’ spirits shows that you are an ignorant child,” Chief Thunderhoof added.
“And I have no intention of taking advice from an ol’ gommy!”
Rising shouts filled the air once again. Tempest rubbed his forehead as the growing volume of shouts echoing back and forth soon grew exhausting. He could see, rather quickly, why the previous Aspects did not last long on the council. He tapped the scepter on the table, bringing everyone’s attention to himself yet again.
“It seems there are misunderstandings about the ownership of the island of Dorthomir. Can anyone tell me what King Shieldbreaker’s dying will stated?” he asked.
“In short,” Ulthir began, “Father wished for Dimitri and me to rule as equals, splitting the island in half.”
“And what if you couldn’t come to terms?” Tempest asked. Dimitri and Ulthir both shrugged.
“Well, da’ wasn’t the brightest of the bunch, which is part of the problem.”
Tempest rested his chin on the scepter as he thought for a moment. “It seems that you have two options, either come to terms now with each other—like your dad wanted—or the IRC will have to decide what will happen with Dorthomir.”
The two dwarves and King Häguin raised their voices in protest, but Tempest was quick with the scepter to call for order. The three of them returned to their seats before Chieftain Thunderhoof stood.
“My plea is, unfortunately, tied to the two fates of these young dwarves,” the Chief began. “The pollution spreading from the recent mining growth in Sanguin has turned our life upside down. Feura’s Tear has been poisoned—
becoming so toxic that barely any life exists in it. We can no longer use it for food or for water”
He shook his gray mane. “The surrounding lakes, which are all connected by underground streams, are also experiencing similar pollution. It is becoming harder and harder to survive without outside assistance. Thousands of our clan members, including our elders and our children, are coming down with diseases and sicknesses which have never been seen before. We understand the other members’ need for the resources that were formerly provided by Dorthomir. We’re not asking that the work be stopped, but for something to be done about the pollution.”
The Chief did not wait for a response before he sat. Tempest could tell that even though the massive minotaur was hiding his pain well, he could not escape the grip of Septimus.
“Pollution of our water sources will be the death of us all,” Empress Poliko agreed. “You’ll have Ubi’s support.” The Chief smiled at the Queen’s pledge. When the Chief sat, Alfonso and King Khenba rose.
“¡Buenas tardes!” Alfonso shouted, excitedly. “My friends, King Khenba and I have reached an agreement. I am to purchase his land east of the Belaphama River. We’re looking for approval effective immediately.”
“You’ve come a long way, Sir de Manzanedo,” Viktor said, raising his glass. “It’s always amazing to see the founding of a new kingdom.”
“Thank you, Van Jütenheim,” Alfonso said, bowing. “I’m humbled by the IRC’s consideration.” As the two men sat, two more rose.
“In a similar fashion, the vampire collective has agreed to sell our remaining northern land on the tip of Iðna to King Wulvenson of Kerrbatuul.”
“Aww, so sad to see you go,” Queen Vatia said, puffing out her bottom lip. “That northern expansion not going well?”
“On the contrary, we’re now the largest landowners on all of Iðna.”
Vatia’s smirk quickly turned into a scowl as she sat back into her chair.
With Viktor’s speech concluded, the two Vervean Queens spoke to the members.
“With Obovna without leadership, we’ll just take that land back,” the Queens said. They immediately sat down, followed by a low chuckle from the rest of the members.
“Wow, you two really lucked out with that, didn’t you,” King Bogdim said. “You sell them part of your land and within five years you get it back with a full city, completely funded? I thought Sir de Manzanedo was supposed to be the lucky one.”
“My luck has never been that good, your majesty,” Alfonso replied, lightening the mood among the members, until Chieftainess Wildfang stood.
When she rose, she glared at Tempest before turning and speaking to the rest of the members. “No one is a stranger to the history of my ancestors and the scars they left on many, including some of those sitting among us. When the great horde called, Cratus Shatterhorn led the armies of Iðna against my people until they were defeated. Our repentance was genocide and curses.”
She paused. “The generations that followed were forced into slavery and imprisonment just because we were born as orcs. Over a hundred years ago, we were released from that burden and given a small plot of land, having atoned for past sins, yet we still bear the same fertility curse laid upon us so long ago.”
The she-orc growled. “Only one in ten children survives a birthing ritual, often leaving our women emotionally and physically scarred. It is said that it can only be cured by an Aspect, since it was inflicted upon us by one. We ask that, with the council’s blessing, his Eminence release the curse from our people.”
As Chieftainess Wildfang sat, the other members of the IRC turned to Tempest, waiting for his response. He froze, as he had not expected the story that Chieftainess Wildfang told. The only stories he’d been told about the orcs were the ones about their brutal savagery, acting more like wild animals than people. Elders spoke of them in the same way that goblins were spoken about.
Luckily, Gregoro was there to cover for him.
“I believe that concludes the presentation of any and all dispositions,” he said, scanning the room. The members of the IRC yawned, stretched, and mumbled as they stood and began corralling toward the door. Tempest let out a sigh before standing. The first part of the day had only just concluded, and it was already entirely too damn long.
20
Two Orcs in a Stone Ring
Tempest raised his hand above his eyes to shield them from the harsh glare of the day’s sun. He replayed the events that occurred in the room, recalling all the major points each individual had brought forth. His mind kept flashing back to Chieftainess Wildfang and her direct request to Tempest, but he soon found himself frustrated with the mental exercise.
Tempest leaned over the nearby railing, looking out to the courtyard below. The members of the IRC were already in full swing, splitting off into pairs and various groups, in a heavy discussion about each of the measures. Both Saïgra and Alyndra paired themselves together, wasting little time moving between each lot.
“Enjoying the view?” an unexpected feminine voice said outside of Tempest’s peripheral. He stood and turned around to find Queen Quenna and Queen Alexandria standing with their arms interlocked, gazing up at him.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Tempest said, looking up at the sun.
“Oh, it’s much too cold for our liking,” Queen Quenna said.
“I’ve been freezing since I got here, but at least these robes are thicker than the ones from yesterday,” Queen Alexandria added.
“That’s understandable. I’ve heard Verve is very warm. It must be a stark difference from…” Tempest’s train of thought halted as he felt a sensation of unease at the way the women looked at him. He observed their eyes darting over every piece of his exposed skin.
They did not bother to hide their desires as they licked their lips and swayed their tails ever so slightly. Their vertical pupils tightened as they locked eyes with him. It was no longer a sensation of being wanted, but one of being hunted. The two women stepped forward, leaving no room for Tempest to move as they pressed themselves against his sides, placing their abnormally large sized clawed hands onto his chest.
“We’d love to speak to you in private,” Queen Quenna said.
“It’s a matter of importance for Verve,” Queen Alexandria added.
The two purred as they massaged their hands into Tempest’s chest. It was hard not to enjoy it as they kneaded almost the entirety of his upper body with just each other. He struggled, keeping his eyes open as the sound of the purr and the soft fur against his skin put him into a near catatonic state. The unexpected sensation of two tails sliding up his legs was enough to snap him out of the induced trance.
He bit his tongue, giving him pain to focus on, rather than the pleasure. It was in that moment he grabbed both of them with his force, holding them in place as he stepped back, out of their clutches.
“What in Celestra’s cunt was that?” Alexandria snarled.
“I’m sorry, but you didn’t leave me any choice,” Tempest said, taking a deep breath.
Quenna took two steps forward and swiped her massive claws at Tempest’s chest.
When he looked down at his robe, four giant claw marks sprawled across it, exposing his bloodied chest.
“Oh, you had a choice,” she said, pointing her finger in his face. “And you’re going to regret it.”
Tempest watched the two manticore Queens until he could no longer see them after they ascended the stairs. Luckily, Gregoro was not far away, with a spare robe.
After a quick change of clothes, Tempest waltzed down to the courtyard where side-bar discussions still continued. He scanned the area, looking for any sign of his companions, but Queen Vatia and King Orum approached him before he caught sight of her.
“Good day, your Eminence,” Vatia said, raising her hand as she approached. “I hope you are feeling well rested after yesterday’s festivities?”
“Yes, it was quite an experience,” Tempest said. “I noticed that you two seemed t
o be enjoying yourselves.”
“Of course, it’s tradition,” King Orum said, pointedly. “It seems you did as well, based on your, Queen Alyndra’s, and Lady Saïgra’s late arrival.” The King reached out and patted Tempest on the shoulder, giving him a smug smile.
Tempest had never planned to conceal his relationship with either of them, but the way the King had responded—like he’d found out about Tempest’s little secret—made him want to toss the smug bastard over the cliff-side. Too bad he can fly, Tempest thought.
“Yes, as you said King Orum, it’s tradition.” The two men shared fake smiles before Queen Vatia revealed their intent for the visit.
“Your Eminence, if I may be direct, what are your intentions for tomorrow?”
“What do you mean?”
Queen Vatia rolled her eyes as she rephrased her question. “Are you planning on making any proclamations or decisions which will influence any decisions tomorrow?”
Tempest thought for a moment about how he should answer, staring at his feet, hoping for a lightbulb to go off. He didn’t expect her question to be so direct, and he didn’t want to lie or tip his hand before he was ready to make any decisions. “I haven’t decided yet,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll happily take any advice you might have, though.”
Vatia had a response before Tempest finished talking. “Don’t get involved.” Her words sounded more like a threat than friendly advice.
“And why is that?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“It…complicates things. There are a few of us who have been around long enough to see multiple Aspects and what they can do, including Queen Maileath and the Van Jütenheims. Each one of them will tell you the same thing, progress stops, interference leads to conflicts of interest, and creates unnecessary animosity. The world works the way it does because of the time invested in these directions. A new Captain coming aboard a ship and blindly turning the wheel is likely to crash ashore rather than reach the promised land.
