There was only attentive silence.
“Then I welcome you to the first Conclave,” Aziel said with a clap of his hands before turning to his faction officers. “Melody?”
The Beastkin gave him a nervous smile as she stood and came to stand beside him. “Do not worry, I’m right behind you,” he murmured, noticing her tail and ears droop as her feline eyes glanced around at the figures watching her intently.
Aziel patted her reassuringly on the head before going back to his seat.
“Uh.” Melody fidgeted. “I’m Melody, the Economic Minister,” she said as she turned slowly in place. “I… I…”
“I believe you wanted to speak of the allocation of resources,” Aziel said. The Beastkin looked at him gratefully, and he nodded.
“Yes! Until now, resources have been given out freely. That will stop,” Melody said as she darted back to her seat and gathered a pile of scrolls. She dashed back to the center of the room and dropped them to the ground before sorting through them and selecting the one she wanted. “This includes food packs, armor, weapons, and crystals. Anything and everything will now have a price.”
Astrel raised a hand.
“Um, yes? Queen Astrel?” Melody asked, still visibly nervous.
Astrel stood. “The Grauda have fought and died for the Fallen, and Lord Aziel supported us in turn. You are asking for us to now pay for this support, but money is not something we have to give.”
“You are right.” Melody smiled brightly. “Which is why, from this day on, all those who serve the faction will be receiving a salary. There will also be payments for past service. If the Fallen is to have its own robust economy, then money and goods need to start moving.”
Astrel’s antennae twitched a few times before she took her seat again.
Melody looked around until she noticed another person with his hand up. “Issac?”
The old human stood. “I welcome this change, but I have one concern. It regards the purchase of weapons and armor. If the armed forces are to be consolidated under the Fallen and under the command of the Head Commander,” he gestured to Kavali, “is it not fair that the Head Commander and her War Ministry pay to equip them? To provide both the manpower and the equipment may be too great a burden.”
“That is something to be discussed with the Head Commander. My responsibility is limited to the finances and economic welfare of the faction,” Melody replied. The longer this went on, the less nervous the Beastkin became.
Issac glanced at Kavali again. The Ogre’i warrior sat still, ignoring the gazes of the Conclave.
“I understand,” Issac said as he took his seat.
Melody waited a few more moments before deciding it was time to move on. “To the second point then,” she said, picking up another group of scrolls and passing them out to the Conclave members. “While an open and free economy is the goal, it is difficult when there is so little wealth and production within the faction. In the short term, the Economic Ministry will buy from the member races and trade on their behalf, until such a time that the races can do so on their own.” Melody passed the last scroll to Queen Trikk before hurrying back to the center of the room.
“Of course, some of the proceeds will go directly into the treasury of the Fallen, but the rest will return to you. We will also not be collecting taxes until the economy stabilizes. I have made a list of items each of you might be able to create and sell, and a possible price for each. These are just recommendations based on my research—you can of course supply whatever you wish.”
“Clothes?” Trikk hissed as she stood, her nose scrunching in rage. “You want the Arachne to make clothes?”
Melody took a step back, and Aziel frowned as he glared at Trikk. Noticing his gaze, the Arachne Queen shrunk back. “I mean… the Arachne would be pleased to make clothes with our silk. We can only produce white silk, however.” Trikk sat back down, a strained smile on her face.
Aziel heard a muffled chuckle and turned to glare at Celia to his right, who waved a hand apologetically.
Melody looked back and forth between them. “I’m sure the Grauda can develop some kind of dye…” she said, as an awkward silence fell upon the chamber. Astrel looked at Aziel, who gave her a slight nod to reply.
“We can probably create some dyes, though I will need the Arachne to provide samples of their silk for testing,” Astrel said.
Trikk licked her lips, her gaze shifting to Aziel, to Melody, then back to Astrel. “How much?” she asked, her tone hostile.
“Depends on the quality of the silk,” Astrel replied, her twin scythe arms rising.
“You dare question our silks’ quality?” Trikk hissed.
“Enough,” Aziel said, cutting them off. “You may negotiate at a later time.”
Melody gave him an appreciative nod as Astrel got to her feet. “One silver per vial of our alchemic healing solution,” Astrel said with a shake of her head. “Isn’t this too low a price?”
“Ha!” Trikk began to chuckle. “Our silk clothes go for between two to three gold. Maybe I should question the quality of your alchemy—prey.”
Aziel sighed. It seemed that if they could not rip each other apart, they would find other ways to be rivals.
“One silver is a week’s salary for some professions within the Eastern Peninsula,” Melody replied as she glanced down at list she held. “The price also assumes that the solution will be sold without the vial or the enchantments required to preserve it long enough to be transported and sold. If you can provide those as well, then you can increase your cut. Perhaps if you coordinate with Isaac for the vials and Rosaline for the preservation enchantments? Also, you can make the solution in bulk, selling it in large quantities.” She turned to the Arachne Queen. “Arachne silk is a luxury material. If you can create a dress as intricate as the one you’re wearing, then nobles would fight over purchasing it. I also know that not all Arachne can make silk, so while your individual sales may provide high returns, you won’t sell as many. Of course, learning to use colorings will likely raise the price considerably.”
The four named race leaders looked at one another, a silent conversation being exchanged.
Aziel grinned. Economy may have been Melody’s priority, but the way she had gone about this was designed to ensure the races began interacting and working together. If their economic success was intertwined, they would be less likely to antagonize each other.
The conversation moved on to the Ogre’i’s metal and stone-working skills, the Dryads’ enchantments and abilities to hasten crop growth cycles, and the human’s more specialized items and food production. By the end, everyone appeared satisfied; even Queen Trikk seemed to have come around.
“Thank you, Melody,” Aziel said as the Beastkin took her seat before letting out a quiet, relieved sigh.
Duren stood and took his place in the center of the room. The race leaders looked at one another, confusion in their eyes. “Greetings,” he began, “I am Duren Killien. Lord Aziel has honored me with the positions of Interior and Foreign Minister of the Fallen.” He bowed. Most of the races seemed nonplussed, but Issac leaned forward with interest. “I have an agenda in need of a vote from this esteemed Conclave. As per Lord Aziel’s rules for the conduct of this Conclave, a simple majority is needed to pass this motion, along with his Lordship’s final approval.”
As Duren began to explain the terms of the deal for absorbing Maiv into the Fallen, Aziel felt a wave of mana rush through the chamber from the direction of Soul’s Rest. It was much weaker than the last time, the distance clearly having an effect to the point where only he had felt it. He smiled. It appeared Adara would be visiting the princess soon.
As soon as Duren had concluded his introduction, Issac stood. “I am against this,” he said with a swipe of his hand. “Most of the people here are refugees from either the Wervins or the war. Doing this would bring the war they ran away from back onto their doorsteps. I understand the large gains the faction might earn from go
ing through with it, but the cost is too high. I don’t believe we are even close to being ready to go to war with the Jannatins. Some of us don’t even have roofs over our heads yet.”
Duren nodded as he made a mark on a sheet of paper. “Humans are against, then.” He shifted his gaze to the Arachne Queen. “Queen Trikk?”
“Will we be free to feast on our enemies?” she asked, her tongue licked her lips.
Duren turned to Aziel. “I suppose you would,” Aziel replied.
“Then the Arachne support this,” Trikk said, crossing her arms.
Duren again marked his sheet. “Blossom Rosaline?”
The Dryad leader looked piercingly at Issac and then at Kavali. “Are we capable of fighting a war?” she asked.
“No,” Kavali said, then looked up thoughtfully before adding, “Nareeth nakar.”
“Need time to train,” Neruul translated.
Rosaline placed both hands atop her crossed legs. “I abhor going to war. Going to war for a people we don’t know, especially when we are not ready, makes it even less appealing.” The Dryad uncrossed her legs before rearranging her long leafy dress. “I am against this.”
Duren turned to Neruul.
“I support this. The Ogre’i never back down from a fight,” Neruul said with a grin. A great booming sounded, and all turned to Kavali—who appeared to have struck the floor with her feet in agreement.
Aziel kept his expression neutral. Kavali had just stated they weren’t ready for war, but she certainly seemed excited about it.
“Queen Astrel,” Duren called.
The Grauda queen chewed on her lip as she stared at the ground. “What are the chances that we would be welcome in Maiv? My experience with them has been nothing but hate. What if we accept this and we end up having to fight both the Jannatins and Maiv? Making them a faction guild and allowing them some autonomy might not be enough.”
It was a difficult question to answer, and one Aziel honestly didn’t know. He had assumed that if both the princess and Adara were on his side, then the people would also be. If they were not, then doing this would mean going to war with a militaristic superpower and having to occupy Maiv rather than liberate it.
“It is a risk,” Duren admitted as he lifted his arms to either side, “but nothing comes without risk. The cost may be high, but if we succeed, the Fallen will double their territory, and therefore our influence. Let’s us not forget that Maiv and its people have been struggling for generations. If we are able to raise them out of the pit of hardship which has become their reality, it is hard to see how they would not support us.”
“Yes, but that is assuming we can defeat the Jannatin armies.” Issac gave a shake of his head. “We are speaking of professional armies. Soldiers by trade. They live and breathe war. Then there are all the other arms of the Jannatin Empire. Meanwhile, Maiv has nearly lost its entire leadership in a single day, assassinated in their own homes and workplaces. Do we really want that threat looming over us?”
Kavali growled as she stood. All the other delegates had to look up to meet her gaze. “We fight, we win,” she said, glaring at Issac.
Issac let out a frustrated grunt. “You said we weren’t ready!”
Kavali leaned forward, glaring intensely at Issac, who leaned away in response.
“Sit down, Kavali,” Aziel said. “If you wish to speak, then Duren can give you the floor.”
Kavali turned to Aziel, her hands balling into fists and her muscles flexing. The frustration was clear in her expression, but she sat back down.
The room fell silent once more. “What are the chances that the Jannatin Empire is ready for something like this?” Neruul asked. “They have an army already engaged in Bastion. Even if they are powerful, can they really divert and attack the Fallen straight away? Wouldn’t they need to reassess, reinforce, resupply? Prepare their own border with us? It isn’t as simple as just raising a new army, is it?” He waved a hand at Kavali. “The High Commander says our military needs to train, and that means we need time. Well, we have it. If we don’t attack the Jannatins, they are unlikely to expand the scope of the war. Although slower than they would have liked, I imagine, they still are winning in Maiv. If we do the bare minimum—support Bastion just enough so they may hold out—then our armies will have time to train and prepare.”
Kavali let out an approving grunt.
Aziel wondered if this was what she had meant from the start. A miscommunication of sorts.
“Queen Astrel?” Duren asked. “Your vote?”
“I…” Astrel hesitated, but then she straightened her back. “I will support this,” she said.
“Feast!” Trikk exclaimed, then shivered as she made a series of what Aziel assumed were joyous noises. Both Rosaline and Issac sighed.
Duren marked the sheet of paper before presenting it and the scroll to Aziel. “A majority of three to two has been reached, my lord. The Conclave has accepted the proposal.”
Aziel accepted the documents. “This was a difficult decision for you,” he said. “Even now, I can see the lingering doubt. And yet, by the rules of this Conclave, it has passed. I expect even those who voted against it to work toward a positive outcome as if it were their own idea. I give my final approval.” He pricked his finger and marked the scroll. A wave of notifications formed before him.
The Fallen have entered into a binding agreement with Maiv. Breaking the terms of this agreement without just cause may bring your faction untold hardship.
Kadora Announcement: Beware, the faction Kingdom of Maiv is no more.
Congratulations, your faction has claimed the Ranvine Delta.
Congratulations, your faction has claimed the Golan Flats.
Congratulations, your faction has claimed the Three Flames.
By the terms of your agreement, you have bestowed Lucienne Maivan with the right to draft a charter under your faction.
Zero faction guild charters remaining.
Aziel went through the notifications. While most of them were only visible to himself or his faction officers, the main announcement was to everyone. He could only imagine the reaction of the Jannatins and the Maivans—though he supposed they were not Maivans any longer. Just as he was about to tell Duren to proceed to the next item, another string of notifications appeared.
Faction charter guild, Autonomous Region of Maiv has been formed.
Adara has joined the Fallen Pantheon.
Your faction military has increased. Current rating: 14.
Congratulations, the Fallen has reached level 4.
One faction guild charter available.
“Well, she works fast,” Niyela said from beside him, placing her hand atop his.
“Who does?” Celia asked.
“Lucienne. She already formed her guild,” the Dryad replied.
“Oh.” Celia frowned.
Aziel knew Celia had qualms about having no official role in the faction. It was at times like these that her lack of a position became most pronounced. He knew he needed to make her an offer, but decided to leave that aside for now. Level four had not seemed to unlock anything new for the faction other than an additional charter, though all his ministers would have received the level up notification.
“As I’m sure you all now realize, things are going to become busy,” Aziel said before gesturing to Duren.
Duren grinned then bowed. “On to the second treaty requiring your deliberation and vote…” he said, pulling out the proposed deal with Tijar to supply the rebels of Fermont.
The deliberations continued and the vote ended with the same count: two against and three for, but this time it was Issac and Trikk who voted against it. Trikk was less than enthusiastic about this one, since the chances of them going to the Ejani Empire and having a “feast” there, as she liked to call it, were slim.
Aziel confirmed their decision and was met with a now familiar notification:
The Fallen have entered into a binding agreement with Tijar. Breaking the
terms of this agreement without just cause may bring your faction untold hardship.
Aziel stood, and everyone else followed suit. “Thank you all. The faction officers will be available to you if you wish to discuss anything with them. I am also certain they will wish to speak to each of you individually to set up their ministries and provide you with the support you need.”
Everyone nodded or made sounds of approval.
“With that, the first Conclave of Races is adjourned.”
Aziel left the hall, Celia and Niyela escorting him as they descended the stairs.
“Will you be giving all your charters to autonomous regions?” Niyela asked as she interlocked her arm with his.
“No. At least, I hope not. I would prefer to form specialized organizations instead. It appears the faction gains a charter every two levels, so we should have enough to experiment with.”
“Maybe you should create guilds like the humans do,” Niyela said. “Mage guilds, enchanter’s guild, merchant guilds.”
“Perhaps. I dislike the idea of creating guilds who could horde knowledge instead of sharing it. But we live in a world where free knowledge is more than likely going to be used against us.”
“Then perhaps you should create your own version of the Jannatin Black Coats,” Niyela said before her eyes suddenly opened wide. “Maybe you should give your most skilled daughter a charter to do just that! We can call it: Daughter’s Fury!”
“You’re terrible at naming things,” Celia said, one palm firmly against her forehead.
“I don’t know, I like it,” Aziel said. Celia gave him a sour look.
“That’s so sweet of you,” Niyela cooed, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek.
“So, Niyela,” Celia asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She leaned forward, her hands held behind her back as her tail swung above her playfully. “How much longer until you are ready? When can I see some baby Dryads?”
Fallen Ambitions Page 51