Chapter 300: Five – In This Solemn Hour

RavensDagger

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Chapter Two Hundred and Ninety-Five - In This Solemn Hour

“Everything is terrible and I hate my life.”

I glanced up from the paper I was reading to stare across the room.

Amaryllis was standing over her desk. It was a desk that Mister Jared, the innkeeper, had brought in with the help of a few manservants.

Mister Jared had been nothing but nice since we arrived at the Dewdrop Inn. I think having Bastion escort us over had helped a lot, though he did seem like a good and friendly person from the start.

Having two princesses show up at his door though? That had really made him pepped up and excited. I was pretty sure that any one of us could ask him to draw twelve baths in a row and he’d do it all himself with a smile and a spring in his step. Asking him for a desk or two so that Amaryllis’ paperwork could stop crowding the dining table had been easy.

“Are you okay?” I asked, setting aside mental tangents about nice innkeepers.

Amaryllis wiggled her wings at the desk. “This,” she said. She groaned then started pacing.

“Uh, yeah, that,” I agreed.

She nodded her head, and I was pretty sure that we had communicated something that I didn’t mean to.

“But besides... that, are you okay?” I asked again.

She huffed an irritated, tired huff of frustration. I wasn’t sure if it was aimed at me or the papers. “This is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be,” she finally said.

I was happy that she was back to using words. “It’s all political stuff. Aren’t those usually pretty complicated?”

“Yes, of course. But... well, as loath as I am to admit it, I suspected that I would have a much easier time with all of this. I grew up in the Harpy Mountains, I studied Sylphfree’s politics as a hatchling! This should all be stuff I know!”

I nodded. “You’re doing just great,” I said.

She puffed out her chest and placed talons on hips. “Oh don’t patronise me, Broccoli, you don’t have a clue what’s going on here.”

It was my turn to huff. “Well, I’m trying to help, that’s all,” I said. I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to start arguing with her. We didn’t need that, and it wouldn’t be productive at all. “I’m sorry I can’t help you more. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you at all. What’s the matter right now?”

“It’s,” she started, then waved her wings at all the papers again. “All this. It’s too much.”

“Exponential complication,” Awen said. She was sitting on a big poofy chair next to a bay window at the end of the room, a large tome on her lap that nearly hid her entirely.

“What’s that?” I asked.

She glanced up from her book. “Suppose you start with a small, simple problem. It has one variable, only one thing to keep track of. If you add a second variable, however, you must track not only the two variables, but also the relationship between them - three things you must keep in mind. If the variables increase to three, then the number of things to track increases to seven--"

"Wait," Amaryllis interjected before I could wrap my head around that. "I only counted six. Three variables and three unique pairings that each yield another interaction."

"There's a seventh interaction because all three variables could have a trinary interaction." Awen paused. "I think."

"Hm," Amaryllis leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Now that I think of it, couldn't interactions also trigger more interactions that don't otherwise occur? Some kind of cascade?"

Awen frowned. "It might depend on how you philosophically model the concepts of variables and interactions. I haven't studied this that much."

"Uh ..." I trailed off.

She shifted back in her seat. “Alright, imagine... imagine fuel for an airship.”

I nodded for her to go on.

“If you’re the quartermaster in charge of fuel for one ship, then all you need to know is how much fuel that ship needs every time it comes to port. You also need to know how long the ship’s trips are so that you have enough fuel waiting for it when it arrives. That’s one factor--the ship’s fuel--and two variables--how much it needs and how much it used.”

“Alright,” I said. “That sounds pretty easy.”

“Yes, because it’s just one ship. Now, add in oil consumption as well. That’s a bit trickier, but you can probably guess how much it needs every trip, so it’s just one more little thing to keep track of.” Awen licked her lips. “Now, let’s say that you also need to keep track of rations onboard the ship. And it’s a ship that has passengers. It doesn’t always have them both ways. Now that’s three things to keep track of, right?”

“I guess so, yeah,” I said.

“Now, add another ship. You’re not just keeping track of fuel and oil and food for one ship, but two. Plus, maybe those ships can trade those things on the go, or the number of passengers and how far they travel changes depending on which of the two ships arrives at port first.”

“Uh,” I said.

“Now instead of two ships, make it thirty. Also, you need to keep track of crews now. And the ships can trade crewmates between each other. Oh, and there’s another small port that they can use sometimes, but they won't tell you if they do or not, because visiting that port is technically illegal. Also, you need to keep track of repairs and maintenance schedules, but you only have a limited number of mechanics and they all need to work on each ship for a different amount of time. Your goal is to make it so that each ship is ready to leave port as quickly as possible with the right amount of fuel, oil, food, enough crew onboard to work the ship, a good load of passengers and cargo, and that the ships are at tip-top before they leave.”

My head was spinning and my ears were wilting like unwatered flowers. “Huh?”

“Exactly. It’s a lot of stuff to keep track of, and every added factor makes it exponentially more complicated. That’s Amaryllis’ problem right now.”

I glanced at Amaryllis. She was staring at Awen, a little shocked. “That’s... yes. Exactly right, and succinctly put.”

“That was succinct?” I asked.

“It would have been if you didn’t need a whole analogy to make sense of it,” Amaryllis said.

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I closed the book I’d been reading. It was a history book, something that I didn’t often read back home, but this one was about harpy clans and it had talks about magic and politics and romance and all sorts of neat things. Learning about world history back home would have been way more engaging if there were more dragons involved. “Alright, so everything’s getting too complicated.”

“It’s not getting too complicated, Broccoli. It was complicated all along, I just didn’t know how complicated it was.”

“Right, a ‘good old days’ problem,” I said. At her confused look, I explained. “People often say that things were easier in the good old days, but things were just as complicated back then, it’s just that we don’t know all the things that made it complicated.”

“Strange, but alright,” Amaryllis said. “I need a good speech for the summit, something that will make sure that everyone there takes me seriously.”

“Isn’t the fact that you’re the representative enough?”

She shook her head. “Not after rumours of the fight with Francisco circulate. The sylph might come to believe that whomever fights better can gain the spot as representative. I need to make it clear that I’m not just there because I’m personally powerful and somewhat well-connected. I need to make it clear from the onset that I have political acumen.”

I nodded. That made lots of sense. “And that’s why you’re trying to cram every last bit of political stuff you can get your talons on into your head all at once.”

“... An oversimplification of what I’m attempting, but not entirely wrong,” Amaryllis said.

“You know that knowing stuff won’t make it easier to talk about the right stuff.”

“I’m aware,” Amaryllis said. “This is all just preparatory. There will be questions asked, and the representatives will have the opportunity to ask their own questions in return. I should at least know enough about the desires and fears of the various harpy factions that I can make a point of bringing them up.”

“And you need to sound fancy while doing it,” I said.

“I’ll be going up against people who have entire classes dedicated to politics and diplomacy, not to mention entire skillsets that revolve around charisma. In that regard your own skills might trump mine once behind the podium.”

I considered it for a moment, then slowly nodded. “If we’re just counting skills, then yeah, I guess. You can’t use puppetry or lightning to get your way in a debate. Well, not fairly at least. But those are just skills. You’re pretty great at this kind of stuff, even if you don’t have skills around it.”

“Those skills I don’t have are a huge force multiplier,” Amaryllis said.

“Then I guess we’ll have to work real hard to make up for it.”

She sighed. “Which is exactly what I’m doing. And why I think my feathers will fall right off of me. This is a lot to take in. I’m dipping into sylph history too, there are plenty of books around here that touch on that. A few reports on the cervid, some on the grenoil, though not as many there. This is... a mess.”

I bounced to my feet, walked over to Amaryllis, then gave her a good hug. She really needed it. “It’ll be fine,” I said. “Maybe we can start on the speech instead? Just a first draft, we can overhaul it once you learn more. Besides, how much do you want to say?”

She frowned, then nodded. “You’re right. Less might be more here. A shorter, more concise speech. I can touch on the wants of the larger harpy populace, maybe mention our fears of what a war would mean.”

“Not all the harpy want to avoid a war,” I mentioned. It wasn’t a nice thought, but it was true.

“You’re right... maybe I can mention as much? Acknowledge that a lot of harpy are revelling in the possibilities brought on by new technologies, but insist that they shouldn't be turned towards slaughter?”

I nodded along. “That sounds like a good start.”

Amaryllis rushed over to a desk, muttered something rude as she brushed aside some papers to find an inkwell, then returned to the dining table and pulled out a seat for herself. She looked around, then said something very rude to no one in particular before plucking a feather out of her wing to use as a quill. She scribbled a bullet list on a piece of loose leaf.

“Alright, that’s a very rough outline,” she said. “I also need to flatter the others, though not too much.”

“That would take up too much time,” I said.

“No, the time isn’t the issue--well, not the only one at least. If I spend even a word too much flattering the cervid they might think that we’re in a weaker position relative to them. They’ll confuse humility for weakness. At the same time, I need to praise and compliment the others. But I can’t single out any one of them. Well, perhaps the grenoil, they’re ostensibly allies in this.”

“Don’t,” Awen said. “Try to keep it even. Favouring the grenoil would insult the cervid. There’s still some old animosity between the two, I’ll bet.”

“Right,” Amaryllis said. “You’re pretty keen with all of this, Awen.”

“My mom made me take lessons about this kind of stuff,” Awen said. “I thought I’d forgotten a lot of it, but I guess it’s all still in the back of my head.”

“That’s handy,” I said. I don’t think I had any awesome secret knowledge to rely on.

Awen shrugged. “It doesn’t come up very often, but it’s not bad to know.”

Amaryllis scribbled a few more things. “What else,” she muttered. “Oh, right.” She bent down and added a few more lines to her list. “And a bit of... of course...”

“Uh, you alright?” I asked.

“Yes. Now give me about eight hours to write this, then we can start the revisions and rewrites,” she said.

I held back a sigh. This was very important, to the world and for Amaryllis, so I wasn’t going to tell anyone that I found it a little bit boring.

Sometimes it was hard to be there for a friend, but that was okay too!

***

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