The aftermath of that particular conversation was very interesting, to say the least.
Despite my repeated reassurance that Nick barely had any contribution to my sudden urge to withdraw from the world union, my words were unfortunately misunderstood and he was fired on the grounds of insubordination. Since apparently, insubordination includes abusive, uncooperative, and disrespectful behavior towards a superior; and considering the SRO was a branch of the world union, I met all four requirements.
Who knew?
Nevertheless, on their day of departure, I made sure to treat him the exact same way I always did, just to show how little his change in position affected his worth in my heart.
"Envoy Nic-Oh!" I tap my head "Haha! I guess I'm still used to addressing you so formally in my brain but- Nick," I reach down to grab his shoulders, "You have been such a wonderful guest during your visits from the SRO." A quick nod to the congregation behind him, " And your crew, you have all been such wonderful guests; I believe it'll be such a shame to have you all leave without experiencing even the slightest bit of Crlyan hospitality."
Twenty council members begin milling out of my private jet, all holding elaborately decorated gift baskets.
"So we put together these little gift baskets to remind you of our country when you get home."
I had hoped this would end us on a more positive note than having them just board an aircraft and leave, but some of the congregation look genuinely surprised to even receive the gift basket at all. It's as if they expect to be excluded just because we've never exchanged a single word.
Which is silly, considering the fact that my mere knowledge of their existence already makes us acquaintances; No one goes through my barriers without leaving at least their most basic background information.
The wind does speak, you know.
I give Nick one last bear hug before releasing him, doing the same to Creed and Sonia who both look very awkward for some unknown reason.
"And please," I turn to Nick, making eye contact, "always remember that your splenetic rant meant absolutely nothing to me and had zero effects on my opinion of you as a person, so don't hesitate to keep in touch, yes?"
His face scrunches into a smile uglier than crying, "Y-yes, Igetis Cyl. Thank you for your generosity."
"Oh!" I wave, feeling a bit abashed at the sudden compliment."Don't even mention it. What are friends for, right?"
Sonia actually bursts into tears and Creed's face begins to look suspiciously blotchy.
Awww.
Who knew they loved Crlya so much?
That's so sweet.
I pull them all in for another group hug before they leave.
What a lovely day.
==================
This sentiment continues for the next few weeks since I suddenly become rather popular as phone calls from different parts of the twelve continents began pouring in, all on the topic of my supposed re-isolation.
After numerous trips to the continental federation office and attendance at some diplomatic summits with the leaders of other countries, two months later I can confidently claim to have been suitably convinced to change my decision under the inducement of some very tempting Offers.
A place in the world security council, Crlya's addition to the Olympic games, the time frame between every inspection being increased to at least a full year, a spot as one of the hero association's sponsors, the inclusion of Crlya into the art and music scene, a decrease in taxes for import and export of certain products, and the acceptance of Crlyan documentation as their equivalent in other countries.
That last request garnered quite a bit more resistance than I had expected but- I guess the concept of gaining access to a new, more efficient, renewable power source was just worth the public outrage.
Haha.
====================
Two weeks following that whole debacle, I boarded a private aircraft to Star-view city, the capital city of our close neighbor Bleria- one of the world's strongest economies.
While the summertime ended and the heat receded, the joy of humanoid children also receded as the fall semester of the school year began.
Not one to pass up such an excellent chance to test the limits of the terms agreed to at the diplomatic summit, I picked five Crlyans currently undergoing their second growth sprout to enroll into the most renowned state-funded learning institution in the city- St. Luca Home For The Gifted And Bright, Supposedly founded by the first members of the Hero association some hundred years ago.
I think it's a perfect fit.
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These kids were honestly nothing if not gifted and bright. They were multilingual, had memorized the school curriculum from grades 6-12, are athletically proficient, musically gifted, artistically inclined, and friendly. Best of all, they radiated such intense positivity that it was impossible to dislike them.
I think they'll be wonderful pioneers of our integration with the rest of the continent, even if they didn't know it yet.
"Igetis Cyl, why are they staring at us?"
Nevertheless, the amount of attention we garnered just waiting for our luggage is a bit…discomforting.
I pull her hand down "Don't point at them."
"Oh." Mthyl looks up at me, eyes wide with confusion.
"Is it rude? I didn't mean to be rude."
"Not at all." I move her to my side, blocking the phone cameras trying to take her pictures.
"Some-" Void, why is this taking so long."-of the nice people here just don't like being pointed- Excuse me! I think that's ours." I hurriedly walk up to the human male struggling to sneak away with a five-foot-tall traveling bag.
He looks up sharply, eyes widening in recognition before dropping the luggage and breaking into a full-on sprint.
"Hey!"
"Watch it!"
Seemingly deaf to the protests of the people being shoved, he makes it about two hundred feet before getting socked in the face by airport security.
I pick up the fallen luggage, a name embroidered at the front in a large, sparkly impossible-to-miss font.
"Zylm, I thought I told you to keep an eye on-Hey!" I snatch an identical bag from a lady attempting to do the exact same thing that guy just tried and failed?
Why?
Is this normal?
"I think you have the wrong bag, yes?"
She nods quickly, eyes becoming red and teary before darting towards a group of similarly aged girls all failing to pretend they didn't know her.
Void.
Have I been targeted by a group of traffickers?
Is this an organized crime?
I've read so much about it but I never thought I'd ever be a target.
Were they expecting I'd run after the first guy and then lure my kids away by stealing their luggage?
I subtly pull the group closer to me.
"And this is why we must remain vigilant at all times," I warn them sternly.
"So we don't get robbed?" Lym glances up from his melting ice cream cone.
"No," I flick his forehead, "So we don't become targets for organized crime."
The couple next to me splutters suspiciously and I pull the kids even closer.
This city is crawling with criminals.
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