CHAPTER 28
“M.A.D”
August 30th, 2040: Alfonso City Capital, The Autoriario Empire
Dipping his quill into its ink jar Emperor Alfonso paused for a moment to admire his late-night studying. Over the past few days, he had practically created his own book about American and dwarven constructs, even adding the mythical flying ship sightings in the far north to his work. Although it was clear that the American land, sea and air constructs were far more advanced, the repeated mention of railroads from his shadows in Ruppriecht, together with copied images of the steel carriages, showed many similarities to the dwarves' carts. Leaning back in his chair, Alfonso tapped his fingers on his desk.
“Dwarven steam… I wonder, do the Americans use steam? Did they ever, or is it something else?” Before losing himself in thought once more over American constructs, a knock on his study’s door brought him back.
“Your excellency? I bring a letter from President Dresden.” As the door opened, Itla stepped in, holding a white envelope. Waving him over, Alfonso grabbed the letter and was immediately confounded by how to open it as there was no wax seal. After a few seconds of fiddling with the flap, he realized it had been adhered to the envelope itself. Taking his letter opener, he threaded it through a small gap near the fold and pulled up… only for it to nearly be taken out of his other hand as the envelope fought against his knife. After a few more seconds of fiddling around, he managed to start a tear and cut open the envelope then looked back up at Itla with a death glare. For his part, the old wizard was fighting hard to refrain from smiling but had let a slight smirk leak through.
“Tell anyone about this and I will have you executed.” Taking the letter out of the envelope, Alfonso was immediately in awe of the quality of the paper, but even more so by how clean the writing was.
To Emperor Alfonso, Emperor and ruler of The Autoriario Empire
I have received your letter inviting me to your banquet. Although I wish to accept with all haste, my advisors, and more importantly my own nation's law, prevent me from attending without due protection. With that in mind, I request that our Central Intelligence Agency and The Secret Service be allowed to station themselves inside your capital for a minimum of three months; though they would prefer six. This will give them ample time to assess, remove any deemed threats and thoroughly plan my visit. I do not know for certain but I suspect you are familiar with the threat of assassinations. The United States is well accustomed to it and therefore has protective measures in place for my safety anytime I must travel.
However, though I am inclined to accept your invitation to this banquet, I am concerned about the presence of certain lords, religious leaders and the practices of your empire. I must also be cautious as a meeting with you could greatly upset the wider American citizenry. From what we have been told, and observed ourselves, The Autoriario Empire's practices against the races known as Demi-Humans and Beastmen--we know them simply as Hybrids--is of great concern to us. And while I do believe that we both understand the importance of our two powers communicating, The United States can not in good faith conduct diplomacy with an empire that treats its minority races not as humans, but rather as animals.
If, however, certain conditions were met - for example, an embassy being established in your capital, laws being passed that either convert slavery into indentured servitude or abolish the practice completely, the opening of favored trade towards The United States and so on. We are open to more complex arrangements, dare I say, perhaps even a mutual defense agreement?
I like to believe that we both know a war between our respective nations would be rather damaging. And, with that said, I extend this letter as an olive branch for peace between us. Not because we are humans, but because of a necessity to bring much-needed stability to this divided world. I know you are more intelligent than you would have us believe. Do not let blind faith be the reason for your downfall, Alfonso. One should always question everything, should they be told a lie by someone they trust most.
Sincerely, John Dresden, The 49th President of The United States of America.
At a loss for words, Alfonso stared at the letter with widened eyes, his face paling to a ghostly white, as sweat slowly condensed on his forehead.
“How? How did he read me like I was a book? Did I make it so obvious to that American shadow, Mario? While yes, I wish for peace with the Americans, this sounds as if they too, want to avoid war; and the ending! “Do not let blind faith be your downfall.”” Alfonso placed the letter on his desk before standing up to look out at his darkened city.
“Your excellency? Is something the matter?” Itla looked at his shaken emperor, something he hadn’t seen since the news of his father's death had come.
“Where are we with freeing the Americans held within our dungeons?”
“None of the lords dared question your decree. But… those held by the clergy have not been so fortunate. I’m told that twelve Americans have been burned at the stake for pagan religious beliefs, and another fifty or so have been permanently marked by torture, your excellency.” Itla lowered his head as he glanced to see Alfonso tighten his hands into fists.
“Did Father Sacerdos order this… reprisal?” What Alfonso initially felt to be anger, quickly devolved into rage.
“Y-yes, your excellency.” Taking a single step back while keeping his head lowered, Itla started to sweat himself, fearing for his own life now.
“Bring him to me at once!” Raising his right hand to his mouth, Alfonso began biting his fist.
“Of course your excellency! Right away!” Without a moment to lose, Itla darted out of the study leaving Alfonso alone with his frantic mind. “--If you do not comply or, god help you, more of them die, we will send holy hell fire across all of your cities, and raze them to the ground in their honor.” Mario’s words rattled around Alfonso’s mind. If the Americans needed a justification to wage war, this was as easy as it gets. Even with the natural barrier of the El Monte Mineral Mountains. It was clear that the Americans could easily navigate past, or at the very least punch a steel fist through El Comercio Lugar City within a few days--maybe a week at most.
His mind racing, Alfonso finally thought about the one advantage he had. His relationship with The Utspraakriech Empire. To be more precise, the border princes; though he didn’t have a personal connection to the Kaiser like his forefathers once had, they were on good enough terms with each other. But now, the United States of America…
“Oh by the gods! I will be in the middle of their battle for influence.” Now looking at the much, much larger picture at play Alfonso’s mind began to play games with him, inventing scenarios where he was either bowing to the United States President, or the Utspraakriech Kaiser. This time, unlike the times he refused to participate in the mass killings of beastmen and the countless failed expeditions into The Elven Forest, he would be forced to choose a side. A side that might not win, and could spell the end of his family's legacy.
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In the midst of his mind going into overdrive, a vision of his beloved city burning under the American flying constructs flashed for a brief moment, quickly replaced by a bright burst of light, then an ever-blackening void. Blinking a few times to regain his awareness in this void, Alfonso got down on one knee.
“Please, Supreme Leader. Tell me what must be done.” Alfonso whispered. As he knelt, he closed his eyes and immediately his body went cold and the air was filled with an eerie, deathly wind.
Opening his eyes, Alfonso stared in complete disbelief at his surroundings. About him, a thick layer of ash blanketed the ground as more fell from the gray sky. Spinning wildly around he couldn't see more than a few feet before the smog became too thick. Taking only a few steps forward, Alfonso tripped on something and fell. Landing in the soft ash, he looked in horror at the corpse of a pure human but before Alfonso could even begin to process what was going on, the sound of footsteps behind him got his attention first.
“Autras has no interest in talking to you. I, however, do.” Through the smog, the figure of a large wolf materialized before stepping close enough for Alfonso to use what little scripture he knew on the beastmen gods to understand who this was.
“Ye-Yenmek. My apologies for my rudeness.” Immediately, Alfonso straightened himself out and got on one knee.
“The ground will teach you nothing, pup. Look at your surroundings.” Yenmek ordered.
Snapping his head up Alfonso was greeted by his surroundings changing from an empty wasteland to a ash blanketed battlefield. One filled with broken American constructs, dead soldiers from all over the continent and all under a foot of ash.
“Push a reasonable man far enough, and you will see just how unreasonable one can truly be.” Staring right into Alfonso’s soul. Yenmek watched as his mortal mind tried to process its surroundings.
“I-I do not understand.” Alfonso stammered. In response, Yenmek took enough steps forward to be nearly touching muzzle to nose with him.
“Autras always openly talks about how intelligent you are. Yet I see none of it. You say you pure-blooded humans are far superior than my children, yet you struggle to survive in anything but temperate locations.” Raising her head to be above Alfonso’s. She looked down at him. “Perhaps a clearer message is needed.” With that, the scene around them shifted again to the empty, ashy wasteland they first started in, but this time, the sound of boots stepping on the ash behind Alfonso filled the air.
Dressed in foreign, gray-colored clothing, holding long metallic objects in their hands, two humanoid figures walked through the wasteland. Alfonso tried to look at their faces, but they were hooded and masked.
“I can’t believe we actually did it. Like, holy shit man.” One man said.
“Hey, it isn’t our fault these bastards wouldn't let up. Dresden warned them, if they pushed past Chlothar, we would respond with a decisive counter-attack.” The other man replied, though the first one didn’t seem to like that response.
“And we responded by killing the whole world? We’re in a permanent winter for the next how long? Twenty--forty years? We’re fucked!”
“We’ll be fine, this was the reason we built those shelters. As for everyone else though… that’s a different story altogether.” The second man stopped, then looked through Alfonso at the ash-covered corpse. “This is why I hate religion. It’s nothing but a tool used to justify endless conflict and suffering. Now quit talking, you’ll burn through your filters faster.” The second man glanced at the other before turning his gaze forwards.
“Just one more question. What do you make of what that old geezer said, back at the farmhouse?”
“What do I make of it? Well… if it were to be true, then we just killed a lotta gods by doing this. Now you better stop talking before I go hunting for duct tape.”
With only the death howl of the wind, Alfonso and Yenmek watched as the two Americans continued to walk into the smog.
“From the years of 1948 to 1991, their realm came to the closest point in their history to killing themselves. The Constitutional Republic of The United States of America, and The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Two empires that had the capacity to end their world, stood upon opposing sides. And yet, they both had the intelligence and wisdom to know that if they did go to war, it would lead to the destruction of everything they knew. Mutual Assured Destruction.” Yenmek turned to face Alfonso again. “Here, however, you mortals have become arrogant towards your future.” With that, Yenmek began to walk the same path as the Americans but, before completely disappearing into the smog, she turned to face Alfonso one last time. “I do not fear you pure humans. I only fear that you will do what The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics chose not to do.”
At that last sentence, Alfonso blinked and he was back in his study. Breathing like he just ran for his life, he staggered to his desk and practically fell into his chair.
“What in all the known world is going on?” Burying his face in his hands, Alfonso’s mind finally began to crack. Ever since the Americans arrived, everything he knew had been turned upside down and twisted into shapes he did not know were even possible. Now, foreign gods were speaking directly to him. Something he once thought was blasphemy, now reality.
“Fear what they chose not to do… what do you mean--oh.” Raising his head from his hands, Alfonso's eyes widened in complete clarity at the situation at hand. The United States, for all its threats about reprisals against him, had only torched a few dozen labor camps--nothing damaging to his reign, but enough to spark discussions in the House of Lords. Naturally, his own lords would want to get even with the Americans, yet his decree had stopped it. All but the church, who went against his word.
“Am… am I in the wrong?” Alfonso, standing up from his chair, looked at the map above the study door. All he had ever been told about the demi-humans and beastmen, was that they were a direct threat to pure humans and his rule. Yet now, The United States of America openly challenged that belief. Moving over to a bookshelf, Alfonso examined the covers of multiple history texts--all of them written by Autoriario scholars. Only a single side to the story of this complex land.
As Alfonso continued to scan the covers, a far-reaching thought formed in his head. Did the dwarves think in the same way as the Americans? Was this what science was? The act of rejecting faith, in favor of embracing the unknown? To face one's challenges head-on, instead of inside a cathedral? Looking back to his desk, then to the pillar where he first met Mario, a smile began to form.
“You have given me much to think about, Americans.”
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