I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I am about to turn a significant part of her world upside down and prepare myself for the inevitable backlash.
“The journal I read was written by an ancestor who was called upon to negotiate with the Lords of Winter. I don’t know what they teach you about the original war with the north but from what I read, it was a mess. Forget Victory, that existed as an army under the control of a great general or something at the time. All of Harvest was getting its ass kicked. The First King was busy solidifying the kingdom. He didn’t have the troops to spare to subdue the north without sacrificing a more integral part of the prospective kingdom.
“They were desperate. So desperate, they decided to put their fate in an art that was just starting to build a reputation. My ancestor was quite excited about proving the value of summoning. He undertook the incredibly dangerous task in hopes of being given his own territory, a land of summoners and elementals. Can you imagine? A whole territory dedicated to exploring different realms. Apparently, there was a whole kingdom like that though Bell couldn’t properly translate the name. They had stable rifts, dammit! Permanent doors to benevolent realms that they used to trade with elementals. He was going to replicate that here, in Harvest! Yet for some saints forsaken reason, the Tome family are restricted to two estates and a lousy village. When we—"
“Lou.” I stop my rant to look at Alana. “Is this what you wanted to tell me?”
“…no.” I’ll be sure to investigate the travesty of what happened to my family and the legacy of all summoners but the situation in the north is more urgent. “To make a long journal short, there are two separate factions in the north.” Alana sits up, her slightly bored expression sharpening into intense focus. “There are the monstrous hordes that you all are accustomed to fighting led by the Lords of the Peaks, powerful manabeasts of limited intelligence who live at the top of the Peaks. The Lords of Winter are a separate faction, an intelligent, I’m assuming sapient, civilization in the far north.”
“Stop.” Alana holds out a hand. I can almost see the thoughts swirling behind her eyes and give her plenty of time to think. “Two factions. That…can be good news. But I should let you continue before I get too excited. I’m assuming this gets worse.”
“Depends. My ancestor naturally chose to speak with the sapient faction. From what he wrote, the Lords of Winter don’t care about Harvest but they want humans to stay out of the north. On this side of the Peaks, to be precise. My ancestor made them a deal. As long as we stay on our side, the beasts would stay on their side. If we violate that agreement, they will go with their backup plan, and eradicate humanity. Which means reigniting the ancient war. All the monsters in the north, along with the Lords of the Peaks and the Lords of Winter, charging Victory together.”
I smile hesitantly at her flat expression. “See? Depends.”
Alana climbs out of the tub. Combining my wind and fire affinities, I send a warm gust of air her way, drying her before she can go for a towel. My little favor does nothing to improve her mood. She fishes out a nightgown from her dresser and shimmies into it. Then she climbs onto the bed, beside me. Only once she’s settled comfortably does she speak. “To be honest, that is much worse than I was expecting but not that bad.”
I stare at her like she’s a madwoman. Her words certainly suggest such. “Not that bad? I just said your family’s lifelong ambition is going to get all of us killed. How is that not that bad?”
She covers her eyes with a hand. “Assuming all of this is true, which it might not be. You put way too much faith in a single journal.”
“Summoners don’t write lies.”
“They’re just people too.”
“It’s like how the people of Victory don’t give up on the campaign.”
“There are people who leave never to return every day.”
“But not the majority. If we grabbed one random boy from Victory, it’d be stranger to assume he’d grow up to leave than grow up to be a future knight. It’s worse for summoners. A boy leaving Victory harms no one. Might embarrass him and his family, at most. If a summoner puts incorrect information in a record? The whole realm is at risk. The whole realm, Alana. No one would do that unless they are insane. And someone like that would be spotted and their records burned.”
Her opposite hand waves off my objections. “Assuming the journal is full of wholly truthful, unbiased information—" Her sarcasm is plain as day. “Everything is fine, isn’t it? As long as we don’t establish a presence in the north, we don’t anger the Lords, there’s no war. The knights kill a few monsters, get pushed back, swear vengeance next year, and everyone lives happily ever after.”
“I had the same thought but do you really think your family will agree to permanently give up on conquering the north?”
“Of course not. That’s why we’re not going to tell them.”
Eh? “What do you mean we’re not going to tell them about the ancient agreement that protects the kingdom and everyone in it?”
“Exactly what I just said. We’re not going to tell them anything about it.”
I stare at her in mute disbelief. This is ridiculous. The whole of the north is constantly and aggressively attempting to conquer it and if they ever succeed, even the slightest amount, Harvest burns. Despite that, she thinks we should just…not mention it? That would be incredibly risky, irresponsible, insane, and just maybe foolish.
We can’t not mention it.
…can we?
“Victory hasn’t managed to take a so much as a corner of the north in five centuries. We were going to change that. Now, we aren’t. Things will be as they’ve always been.” She sighs. “Thankfully, we haven’t gone around announcing our plans. I’m sure a few have taken guesses but since we didn’t make any promises, there won’t be any damage to our reputations. I imagine my family will be a bit disappointed. They’re excited to see what we can do.”
Where is saintly intervention when its needed? Someone please interject and argue her down because the more she talks in that flat tone, as if she’s talking about the weather as opposed to the fate of humanity, the more reasonable she sounds. She makes good points but it doesn’t matter…does it? There’s no way we can keep what’s in that journal to ourselves. Bell! Maybe you can convince her.
The imp wiggles out of Kierra’s arms and settles on my stomach, four red eyes looking down at me. “Coo~” [The girl has a point. The most efficient option for preserving this kingdom would be to say nothing and secretly sabotage their efforts.]
I shift the imp to the bed, ignoring her disappointed coo, and turn to a smirking Kierra. “Tell me you don’t agree with her.”
“You want me to lie to you, my love?”
I groan. “Come on! This is not a good idea!”
“What will telling the James of this accomplish? You mean to question their faith. The core of their identity. They will question you, ask for more proof, if they stop long enough to listen. You will have accomplished nothing. If you tell Victory at large? You will become a pariah. They would attempt to drive us away and they will continue with their war. You will have accomplished nothing.”
“Coo!” Bell says smugly.
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“These people have the right to know that they are seeking their own deaths. We can’t be everywhere at once. What if they manage to set up their own outpost?”
“Five centuries, Lou. If they had any confidence in changing the state of things, everyone would know. They’d be shouting it from the rooftops.”
“Coo!” [You can still boost your reputation by slaying a few monsters. Then Lady Geneva and I can sweep the north to make the sure the other members of the campaign have not made any progress. They are required to submit their positions and plans. It will be a simple matter, Master Lou.]
Faced with the assault of three people whose opinions I respect, I am forced to confront the ridiculous thought that they may have a point. Telling the James will only cause problems. If I want a chance in the Abyss of them listening to me, then I need proof. Preferably a friendly Lord of Winter bearing gifts by my side to confirm what the journal says and soothe their fears.
“Okay. We don’t tell your family until we have the chance to speak to the Lords of Winter.”
“About that…I don’t think we should do that either.” Alana puts a hand on my cheek. “Hear me out. We don’t know anything about these…people besides they are smart and they want humans to stay out of the north. You, the strongest human alive, or so it appears at first glance, appear before them, asking questions. There are two ways this goes.”
“They try real hard to keep the peace or they lose their minds,” I say, showing I’ve already thought of this. “Seeing as they backed the peace we have now, my bet is that they give me the answers.”
“They were peaceful five hundred years ago. A lot can change in that time.”
“For you, perhaps,” Kierra interjects. “Humans are…fragile. They live short lives. They are flames, starting as embers, raging to life with the right fuel, and quickly burning themselves out, becoming nothing but ash. The longer-lived races are like stone. Born strong and unblemished. Life carves into our surface, shaping us. The more brittle stones can be shattered or worn away, but most endure the test of time. Like the mountains, we are also slow to change. If they are like you, then there is no telling what they are now. If they are like me, then it is likely they are exactly the same.”
Alana seems slightly perplexed and annoyed by her words. I understand. For some reason, I feel a little insulted too but Kierra’s words make sense. “Does your journal say which one it is?”
“No…my ancestor didn’t stay long enough to learn much about them. What time he did spend with them was in an underground holding, under guard at all times when he wasn’t speaking to one of their leaders. There wasn’t enough goodwill for a cultural exchange.”
“Then we have no way of knowing. So, better to be cautious. We know these creatures are hostile to our presence in the north. You seeking them out could reignite the war too.”
“You want to ignore a whole civilization? Nope. That’s asking too much. I’m not going to pretend they aren’t there.” There’s an unknown race sharing our continent with us. Who wouldn’t be curious?
Alana sighs. “It’s dangerous but…I think I understand. But!” She raises a chastising finger to emphasize her point. “That doesn’t mean we have to do it now. We can take precautions. If our presence does reignite the war…then why not take out a few of their forces first?”
She sits up. “This is what I’m proposing. We spend a few winters thinning the northern hordes and taking out the Lords of the Peaks. Cripple their army first. Then visit them. That way, no matter how they react, we’ll be ready.”
I raise a hand. “Counter argument. What if slaughtering the Lords of the Peaks is seen as an act of war and they decide to kill us before we can kill them?”
My future wife bites her lower lip. It’s very distracting but I push down my amorous thoughts in favor of the vital conversation we’re having. “Was there any mention of that in this supposed oath?”
“My ancestor didn’t write anything but what would you do if someone started systematically dismantling your army? Who sits back and lets that happen?”
“You have a point…”
“A question, dedia. Does this oath preclude humans or all agents of humanity?”
I turn to stare at my wife, liking her devious tone. “What are you thinking?”
“If humans are barred from the north, then send someone who is not human.”
I scowl. “You can’t go alone, Kii. We don’t know their strength. I trust you but sending you on your own against a whole civilization clearly invested in keeping their secrets is asking for too much.”
“Then the pets.”
I look at her aghast. “You want me to send Geneva?” There are a thousand ways that can go wrong.
“Coo!”
“Bell, you’re adorable, but you’re not fooling me.”
“Coo.”
I wait, but Rolly doesn’t volunteer. Perhaps for the best. I can see that going terribly in a variety of ways too.
“It is not something that has to be decided tonight.” I yelp as Kierra pulls me against her. She dramatically sniffs me, burying her nose against my neck. “Mm. Shall we skip the bath and get right to the fun?”
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