“Your late! You said we’d be leaving last night, but here you are a whole day later!” says a short haired blonde… boy sitting by the mouth of a cave leading to the underground kingdom of king Upendo.
I smile and lean against Cran as I say, “so you weren’t just all talk. Can’t say I like your new look though.”
Ashe blushes as she runs one hand through her roughly shorn hair and grasps her flattened chest with the other, “Lamia said that the world carries worries and dangers that men can’t even think of. So, I just thought that maybe I’d just become a man to be a bit safer in our travels.”
“Wait, Lamia told you that,” I say not sure how to feel, as the last interaction I had with Lamia didn’t lead me to believe she’d listen to anything I said, even if it was to talk to Ashe.
Ashe shrugs awkwardly under the weight of the pack she wears, walks up to me, and punches my shoulder. She then leans in and whispers, “That kiss, that proposal… I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking right.”
“All in the past and I’m sorry too. I should have stayed with you and talked things out with you, but instead I just left you alone with the most hurtful of goodbyes,” I say ruffling Ashe’s short hair, “We’ve gone through a lot that has made some of our dreams become nightmares. You dreamt of the outside world, and it met you with ripping claws, bloody containers, crucified totalion, dead family and friends, and more. I can’t blame you for what you did. I’d second guess my dreams if they came at me like that too.”
Ashe’s eyes grow wide, and she says, “You haven’t given up, have you? Are you still fighting for your dreams? Are you still searching for a place that you can call home? Have you submitted yourself to still be a slave when you were freed?”
“Dreams and freedom, huh? I walk a path that ends with me,” I whisper to myself walking past Ashe toward the cave entrance not wanting to give much thought to Ashe’s line of questioning, “come on little brother, it’s time for us to get a move on.”
Ashe and I walk into the cave and find a teratolion guard who I show the onyx ring upon finger and with the authority it gives me we walk past the teratolion border defenses unimpeded, but we also leave behind a commotion that I’m sure will cause some headache for Mlinzi. Once we are past the border several multicolored glowing mosses decorate the walls that act as guides in this dark and winding subterranean world.
Out of the several colored glowing mosses, we follow the golden glowing moss as that will lead us to the royal quarter. As we follow the golden moss, we eventually come to a bridge that crosses over a large cavern filled with merchants and their various stalls with signs decorated in glowing mosses that depict facsimiles of their wares and what appears to be descriptions in teratolion script. I sit down on the edge of the bridge to watch the teratolion go about their lives.
Whenever I was down in the teratolion tunnels before now, I was always accompanied and rushing on some important duty like announcing to a sorrowful king his granddaughter will soon return. I want to take a small chance to get to know Uzuri’s new family and people now that I have a moment where I’m not anxiously thinking through counter arguments to save a doomed renegade sect as I run to my next meeting in an underground council chamber. The Teratolion may not be my people, but they are Uzuri’s. Because the teratolion are Uzuri’s people, they may strengthen the justifications I’ll need to banish the passive pacifist and act in the future.
I watch as teratolion upon ziplines fly into this cavern from several caves that spot the walls. Some teratolion use ladders and stairs, but they aren’t the most popular modes of transit in this bizarre of commerce. I’m so used to Upendo speaking to me in the language of the Unadeamy that sitting and listening to the teratolion here in this place I’d almost forgotten that isn’t the main language of the teratolion. I hear the teratolion crying out in a sort of sing song language filled with guttural growls, and animalistic sounds that emphasize the more tonal pronounced words. I hear what I assume is the same word repeated but in different contexts that word is spoken with different tones on each part. Given that the interactions that I watch that word being said ranged from pleasant to hostile, these interactions tell me that the same ‘word’ may contain many different meanings depending on how it is tuned. In fact, looking at the teratolion script, it appears to be a more advanced version than what Upendo showed me, as the claw like slash marks have puncture marks in them as if to adjust for the tonal nature of the teratolion spoken language. I wonder if there are multiple versions of teratolion script for royalty and peasantry, and ponder the question as to why the royal version was simpler than the peasantry version of teratolion script?
Suddenly an uproar breaks out in the market as a vibrantly overdressed merchant emerges from one of the tunnels upon a zipline carrying a large pack overflowing with textiles. The merchant yells out what I assume is an advertisement as he flies above the market upon the zipline. When the overdressed merchant lands on solid ground nearly the whole marketplace races to the merchant who happily applies his trade. I wonder why that merchant is so special to garner this much attention?
“Skath, why do the teratolion not wear clothes like us? Upendo wears cloth like we do and a lot of it, but most of those people are just tying cloth to themselves like we wear jewelry,” asks Ashe and with that question I scan the market and see that not a single store sells textiles except for that merchant. Observing the teratolion, those that are successful in obtaining the textiles from the merchant appear to sport a similar style of dress to king Upendo and a similar plumpness to him as well. These tubby teratolion do use the cloth as clothing but it also appears that they primarily desire the cloth sold by the merchant to ornament themselves. Guards are the next that seem capable of buying textiles, but their purchases are specific as they are buying uniforms consisting of a loin cloth accompanied by eye, chest, arm, and leg bands that they tie onto their bodies. The common folk that have gathered look longingly at the textiles that are being bought and tied onto the bodies of the guards and wealthy.
The common folk that are incapable of buying textiles wear what looks like leather-based clothing. The men wear a sort of leather skirt held onto their bodies by leather cords that act as suspenders and belts, whereas the women wear a large sheet of leather that is bound together by various leather strings. The leather dress, which is more of a leather cone broken up into sections and tied together with leather strings that has an arm hole than a dress, is decorated in various designs carved by what I assume would be teratolion claws and the carvings are inlayed with colorful glowing mosses.
I take a moment to look over the market to see if any stalls are selling that leather, and I find a stall that has a sign that has a mushroom symbol as a part of its design and advertising. Does that mean that leather isn’t made of animal hide?
Cran pipes up sensing my curiosity, “I’ve sent out a few scouts to check out the area, and yes very few products in this market are animal or even plant based. In fact, most of everything bought and sold here is fungal. Mushroom leather, mushroom skewers, mushroom alcohol, and even medicine.”
I watch as one of Cran’s leaves drops from his body and transforms into a little wooden soldier with bug-like wings that flies down into the market to continue Cran’s scan of the area. Cran’s independence will always surprise me, as I often don’t notice when he acts on his own.
My curiosity calls my attention back to the merchant and I ask Cran, “If nearly everything down here comes from growing mushrooms, does that mean that the textiles that merchant is selling also comes from mushrooms.”
Cran shakes side to side in my hand and says, “no, those textiles come from beyond the tunnels.”
“How can you tell?” I ask squinting my eyes to see if I’m missing some crucial detail on the merchant’s wares.
Cran grows a vine and points at one of the wealthy teratolion and I see that on one of the pieces of fabric recently sold by the merchant and tied to the wealthy teratolion contains a design that bears characters similar to celandilic script, but the letters I do recognize are paired with symbols that I don’t recognize. I try to read it, but the letters I can read in the design spell out gibberish and the word separation markings and punctuation of true celandilic script are missing. I’m not sure what Cran is trying to say by pointing out that piece of fabric, and before I can ask Cran for clarity, Ashe says, “I think I get what Cran is pointing out. If those symbols are writing, and the teratolion have their own version of writing that’s present on the signs on all the stores in the market, then the symbols on the stores and fabric shouldn’t be different.”
“That’s why you think the textiles come from beyond the tunnels,” I say watching the merchant breaking up a fight between two wealthy looking teratolion women fighting over the last scrap of fabric he is selling.
As soon as the merchant finishes his business the crowd disperses and goes back to their errands. The merchant having sold out of all his wares exuberantly content with his successful sale wanders his way to the walls of this underground market. It is when he reaches the walls of this chamber where he climbs a ladder made by carving indents into the stone wall of this cavern. When he reaches the top of the stone ladder the merchant then removes a metal wheel device that has two handle bars sticking out of it from his pack. He attaches the metal wheel onto a metal rope suspended from the ceiling of the underground market, and then kicks off the wall to then fly away above the market down another tunnel.
Now that what I assume is normalcy has resumed in the market, I watch to see what things teratolion value the most besides the textiles of the flamboyant merchant. The most frequented vendors are those that must be selling food, as varieties of mushrooms in their raw and cooked forms line a multitude of stalls, but amidst the plethora of fungal culinary merchandise are also insects being sold and eaten as food. I don’t see a single store selling meat of any kind, but insects of several kinds and even honey are present in this underground marketplace, but with less prevalence than the multitude of varieties of mushrooms. The next stalls that receive the most action are sort of a combination of culinary and utility as they sell the glowing moss that decorates the walls of the caves and the leather dresses of teratolion women. What I didn’t know until now is that the decorative glowing moss could be eaten, as I watch certain vendors mixing mushrooms, insects, moss, and honeyed sauces together to make salads.
What surprises me about the market is that wares that would enchant a human are nearly always passed over. Jewels, metals, all precious things found within the earth and artistic and utilitarian creations using said materials are utterly ignored. Only metallic tools like the wheel devices used to ride the various ziplines in the caves appear to have some draw, but even then, most of the teratolion in this market are more concerned with filling their bellies and the truly rare rather than the oddly common but stunningly beautiful artisanal goods.
“At least you made it easy for me to find you,” says captain Mlinzi approaching Ashe and I from the opposite end of the bridge we are sitting on.
I shrug my shoulders not really interested in Mlinzi, as I watch a teratolion barterer haggle with a mushroom leather salesman. Watching the two bartering teratolion is like watching a mountain getting battered by a storm, which I find far more entertaining than anything that Mlinzi will throw at me, “I am the brother of the king, so I’m not sure why my presence is cause for any trouble.”
“It is exactly because you are the newly appointed brother of the king that there is a cause for ruckus,” snarls Mlinzi. He growls to himself, his large bat-like pointed ears rotating behind his head in a clearly irritated expression. Collecting himself, Mlinzi takes a calming breath and offers me one of his massive, clawed hands, “Skath, would you please report to the royal quarter. My liege would like to see you, though I am unable at this time to accompany you. I need to speak with the border guard. They were aware of your appointment as the king’s blood brother, but were expecting Aeramen’s face, not yours. I appreciate the border guard’s obedience to orders, but they need to be chastised for not acting with some scrutiny.”
I get up using Cran as support instead of accepting Mlinzi’s clawed help, “I did find it a little too easy to get past the border. Were their orders to let anyone through that had this ring on?”
Mlinzi lets out a frustrated sigh, “yes, something like that. The king should have made his order more specific, but I believe he chose to make a vague mandate in case of godly miracles. He’s known Argentum for his whole life, and as such might have expected your face to change again. Alas as the captain of the royal guard, I know that vagaries often lead to breaches in security, so please excuse my irritation with you and my liege.”
“You don’t have to treat me like a royal. I gave up that chance and watched Uzuri leave, so in my eyes you out rank me. Please accept my apology for causing any unnecessary problems,” I say brushing off some dust from my pants, “I know my way to the throne room, so I’ll get out of your hair. Go take care of what you need to take care of, and I’ll do the same.”
Mlinzi’s turns one of his ears in an inquisitive way. Clearly, he wants to ask what I meant by my words, but he also seems relieved that he doesn’t need to babysit me. Mlinzi gives me a fanged smile and walks the way Ashe and I had come waving a clawed hand as he goes, “well brother do what you must.”
Brother? I wonder what he meant by that, but before I can ask, Mlinzi is already out of sight. All I can do is shrug and carry on, so I wave to Ashe to follow, and we continue down the tunnels until we arrive at the metal gates of Upendo’s throne room. The guards were clearly prepared to receive us and immediately opened the metal gate to allow Ashe and I entry. The throne room is just as magnificent as ever. Tapestries depicting images of what I assume are historic moments of Upendo’s reign hang between crystalline columns that bring in sunlight into the throne room. The walls are decorated with engravings of precious metals in repeating geometric patterns, and the center piece of all of these decorations is a small wooden throne that is currently being sat upon by the plump somewhat melancholic king who wears all manner of fabrics, textile streamers, and cloth ornaments that are draped upon his body and crown.
I walk down the throne room with Ashe, and we kneel before the king, “my liege, I’m ready to leave as your ambassador to Tackenae.”
The king rises from his throne and pulls me to my feet, “brother, you do not bow to family.”
Ashe seeing me rise to my feet attempts to get up from her kneeling position, but Upendo places a hand upon her head to stop her from getting off her knees and says, “though, this courtesy doesn’t extend to your friend. I’ve extended many breaches in decorum for you in the past, but I’m still a king with many eyes upon me.”
Upendo claps his hands, and a servant pops her cloth ornamented head into the throne room from a tunnel that is mostly hidden given that it is accessed from a hatch in the floor behind one of the brightly glowing crystalline pillars. Upendo says something in the teratolion tongue, and the teratolion servant dips her head downward to reemerge with a wooden stool and a leather mat. She places the wooden stool next to Upendo’s throne, and the mat she gives to Ashe. The servant after giving the mat to Ashe awkwardly shows Ashe how to unfurl the mushroom leather mat on the floor and how to sit on it.
Upendo gets up from his throne and guides me to the stool whilst gesturing for me to sit, as he reclines upon his humble throne. The king looks me up and down as if weighing the reasons for why I would suddenly appear and offer my services only to say, “as my brother, I cannot obligate you into serving me.”
“I’m afraid that I might not have a choice,” I say knowing that it was Argentum that proposed that I serve as the negotiator for trade between the people of Tackenae and the Teratolion. For some reason, Argentum saw this as necessary, and in exploring unfamiliar territory having allies of any kind will be essential. All I know is that war is coming for all the races of man, and this mission for establishing trade gets me started on maybe defying Aurhea’s destiny that threatens those I cherish.
Upendo squints his eyes and tilts his ears back to focus upon my words and me, “do you still serve Argentum?”
“I do not, he released me from his service” I respond, noticing a confused expression forming on Ashe’s face. She must be wondering why we are here of my own will.
“Then why obey his arrangements?” asks Upendo placing his head upon his hand to lean in and observe me closer, “your heart races, why?”
“You can hear that?” I ask grasping at my chest.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“You also smell of anxiety. Your sweat reeks and your flesh is tinged in the stench of blood. Your blood I understand as your godly magics require it, but the odor of totalion blood, that is what my nose begs my mind for an answer,” says Upendo tilting his head as he breathes in deeply, “as your brother I wish to know what has you so troubled to act in such haste and make such rash decisions.”
I weigh my options in my head as to what to say. If I tell the truth of as to why my anxieties are so manifest, well the truth will sound like a farfetched myth. I consider lying, but if Upendo was so easily capable of sussing out my emotional state a part of me thinks he may catch me in my lie. Thus, I compromise in my mind and choose my words carefully, “I wish to see the world, and as I have only experience in the valley of Unadeam, I see that serving under you as an ambassador of trade may be my best option to do just that. Unadeam isn’t my home, and now holds nothing but dark memories for me. I know nothing of the outside world, and thus, I wish to ask for your help by offering my own. My heart races because I’m nervous as I’m asking a favor of a king.”
I see Ashe squint her eyes and raise an eyebrow while pursing her lips as her gaze bounces from me to Upendo to me again. I have a feeling that she didn’t buy my veiled truth, which only heightens my nerves as I turn my attention back to Upendo. Upendo strokes his chin and wispy beard as he assesses my words.
“You’re hiding something from me,” concludes Upendo grasping his hands together while extending his two long forefingers to touch his lips in a pensive gesture. He turns his ears toward me and sniffs the air. Now even I can sense my racing heart.
Time for a change in tactics. I mix truth with lies that appeal to dreams that I wish were fully dead as I burry them alive in a grave hidden in the deepest reaches of my psyche, “I have reason to believe that an alliance between Tackenae and your kingdom will help secure the future... who knows maybe what this alliance creates will become my new… home.”
“Brother, you saved my granddaughter, I’ll believe anything you say. You have sacrificed so much for me. Your father and mother now rest in the halls of our god, because you fought to save Uzuri. I am not worthy of replacing your family, but I need you to know that when I made you my blood brother it was not just ceremonial. I consider you family, and will support you as family,” says Upendo placing his large hand upon my shoulder, “you do not need to hide the truth from me, as you walk the path of gods and what may sound like fairytales to me is your reality.”
“Aurhea is preparing to raze the world, to recreate it in her image,” I blurt out relenting to Upendo’s heartfelt appeal.
Upendo squints as he turns his head downward and then to the side before responding, “that wasn’t a lie, but how would the goddess of Othenel raze the world.”
“Aurhea isn’t just the name of the goddess of Othenel,” I say knowing that Aurhea somehow has influence in Othenel even though the soul reservoir and Othenel are separated by an Ocean and sit in two different continents, “Aurhea is the name of the daughter of Argentum.”
“Argentum never told me… I see so a struggle among the old gods is approaching,” says Upendo placing his head upon his clasped hands.
I shake my head and say, “it’s not so much a struggle among the old gods, but the new gods and mortals that I’m worried about.”
“New gods?” asks Upendo and Ashe simultaneously. I still haven’t updated Ashe on all that I’ve learned, and her wide eyes clearly demonstrate her internal turmoil in trying to understand what Upendo and I are talking about. Cran floats out of my hand and sits himself in Ashe’s hand as if sensing my desire to bring her up to speed on all I’ve learned. Cran’s sudden movement and whisperings draw Upendo’s curiosity to him, but I believe both he and I know that a floating and speaking stick isn’t as important as the topic at hand.
“Aurhea is raising an army of new celandil… gods… and plans on using the discord already present in the world of man, totalion, huto, teratolion, glirdon, and dracaquan in order to have them purge themselves to prepare Nuren for a final cleansing by the hands of Aurhea’s children,” I explain trying to use the language Upendo is using to help him understand the gravity of the crossroads of history we find ourselves facing.
“I thought that the blood of gods dissipates after each generation?” asks Upendo pointing to me, “For example the Leathfola barons of southern Tackenae no longer possess the power of their ancestors of the Golden Generation. Now that the Barons are within the Leaden Generation, they’re no more godly than a human and what power they do have is in generational wealth and memory only. Even you aren’t the same as your father.”
“That is true in cases of half breeds,” I admit as I find it intriguing to know that there are other celandil mix bloods out there in the world, “Pure-blooded celandil, I mean gods, can produce more pure bloods. However, the mechanisms by which Aurhea is creating her children are not natural per say, rather they are a perversion of the natural and the spiritual. Let’s just say that she’s found a way to create new pure-blooded gods from totalion and leave it at that.”
“Your heart races again,” says Upendo moving his hand from my shoulder to my chest, “I will not ask more on how Aurhea is creating new gods, as in sensing your body’s reaction to said line of questioning… it must have been traumatic whatever you had to experience and whatever you experienced just might explain the scent of totalion blood upon you.”
“That is an understatement,” I say avoiding Upendo’s gaze while taking a few deep breaths to try and prevent my mind from conjuring images of the soul reservoir, and the dream Aurhea taunted me with.
“I believe I am gathering the full basket of shrooms now,” says Upendo nodding his head as he thinks, “Aurhea is apparently manipulating world conflicts as preparation for a final culling of all of the races of Nuren to give the world to the new gods. Thus, you wish to attempt to assuage the current wars by establishing bastions of peace to perhaps create a resistance against the reign of the new gods.”
I want to speak, but Upendo’s interpretation of my words expounded a bit more than what I even thought possible, “you give me way too much credit. Argentum wanted me to create trade for you in Tackenae, and I thought he had some plan for how that would apparently thwart Aurhea and that’s why I’m here. The idea of bastions of peace is your own idea, not mine.”
“The teratolion helped humans slay many of the old gods in the past,” explains Upendo smiling a fanged grin at my discomfort in his attempt to praise me for ideas he himself had generated, “blood flowed like rivers, but even if it took an army to slay a single god, our battles eventually wore down the old gods and the races of man wrested the world for themselves. Argentum’s wife died during the age of the god war, which means that Aurhea must have grown up during this time and she must be aware that even gods bleed.”
“That means that her goals for the races of Nuren to slaughter themselves…” I say following Upendo’s logic.
Cran pipes up from the leather mat to finish my thoughts, “is to ensure that the races of man will not have the forces necessary to kill even one of the ‘new gods.’”
“If I knew the history of the destruction of my people, I’d be keen not to repeat it if I had a chance to resurrect them,” says Upendo acknowledging Cran by pointing his wrinkled finger at him.
“How do you know so much about the past?” I ask as Upendo is the first person that isn’t my father or uncle to know so much about history that I believed had become forgotten by all those that weren’t literally there to experience and create it.
Upendo points behind his thrown and says, “the teratolion are born historians, and soon you’ll see the pinnacle of our achievements. What humanity has forgotten, the teratolion has preserved.”
“That’s amazing,” I say staring at the wall Upendo was pointing at only to be disappointed as all I see is just that, a wall. In my disappointment, I turn the conversation back to its original purpose, “does this mean that you’ll help me? That you’ll help me face Aurhea’s apocalypse?”
“Yes, brother I stand with you against the old gods as my fathers stood against the old gods,” says Upendo placing his hand in front of his face in the form of teratolion salute that Mlinzi demonstrated the night I became Upendo’s brother, “however, I wish for you to know that I stand with you not out of complete altruism. I do not wish you to misread my words and extrapolate meanings that make me appear as merely your benefactor. We are brothers and as brothers I wish for us to speak with clarity. I am helping you because I am selfish and am using you as much as you are using me.”
“How so?” I ask looking again to Ashe who looks at me nervously. She must think I’m selling myself back into slavery, trading one master for another.
Upendo stares at a tapestry that depicts facsimiles of teratolion skeletons, sickly mushrooms, and teratolion warriors fighting against human soldiers, “have you ever wondered why I didn’t dedicate more resources into saving my own granddaughter?”
“Now that you mention it, I guess you’ve piqued my curiosity,” I say wondering as to why the king and his powerful armies didn’t just storm the village of Unadeam with their overwhelming might.
Upendo points to the tapestry he was clearly staring at and continues his thought, “Tragedy after tragedy, after tragedy befell my kingdom in such a way that I couldn’t indulge the desperate desires of a grandfather and father. Shortly after my daughter Binti was murdered and her daughter stolen from both of us by Gehenna, the king and priests of the Black Capitol of Wakuda initiated a holy crusade against my people. What spies and military I had was moved toward my kingdom’s western borders and into the plains of Tackenae to defend my people. Tragedy again struck, as the fungal harvests were blighted, creating a famine in a time of war. If it wasn’t for your father who helped create tunnels to the Dune Empire in his mission to investigate the kidnapping of my dearest Binti then all would have been lost. The Dune Raja, sent me reinforcements, food, new starter spores to help recover our lost harvests, and more through the tunnels that were originally created as methods of espionage and rescue, and my people survived. The crusade ended because an uprising of dissident serfs became a legitimized civil war in southern Tackenae which changed the mind of the god of the church of the One Eyed Prophet who had suddenly become content with the amount of blood spilt through his mandated crusade and my people were finally able to rebuild their lives in peace. When you approached me, my people were celebrating our third bounteous harvest and our recent victory and survival in the face of unimaginable odds. Two miracles to grace the years of tragedy.”
“It wasn’t just out of love for Uzuri, and fear of Gehenna retaliating against you through her that stayed your claw against the Unadeamy,” says Ashe who is silenced by Cran who clasps her mouth with a rapidly growing hand of wood and plant-matter.
“Yes, I had my claws tied caring for my people and had to swallow my selfish desires as a grandfather for their sakes,” says Upendo his tail curling around himself as if to give himself a hug to comfort himself, “this is why I must be selfish with Skath, as I cannot just give him everything for nothing. I am a king, and as a king my people are a reflection of myself and as such, I must be selfish for them. Skath, I need trade with humans to diversify our agriculture that has long been plagued with practices of monoculture. Underground my people are safe, but we lack sunlight to grow crops like on the surface. We have learned to transform our waste into food through fungi and insects, but pestilences like disease have and could once again create famine. I need you to create trade as to prevent my people from reliving our recent history.”
“I see, Argentum wanted me to create trade between you and the people of Tackenae probably for those two reasons, one to help you obtain access to foods you can’t cultivate underground, and two trade helps create alliances that may prevent you from going to war again with humans or maybe give you human allies to help with future wars,” I mutter realizing as to why Argentum would see this specific path of action as essential, “in essence we’d create a bastion of peace.”
“And prosperity!” adds Upendo nodding his head confirming my ramblings.
“That’s why the teratolion merchant was swarmed by customers for his foreign textiles,” blurts out Cran who is still covering Ashe’s mouth to her visible annoyance.
“What are you talking about Cran?” I ask turning my attention to him.
“Cotton, hemp, flax, these are all plants,” says Cran growing a fruit that is carved with a face smiling a bioluminescent smile, “you can’t grow those in a cave.”
“Muuzaduk must be back from pillaging,” grumbles Upendo and with an irate sigh clearly familiar with the merchant that Cran had spoken of, “generally, we obtain textiles from trading for silks from the Southern Sultanate who after years of negotiations still will not trade us the secrets of raising weaver worms. It is due to our lack of ability to create textiles, that has created a black market perpetuated by marauder bands that brave the surface and create all manner of havoc for human settlements as they steal goods that are rare in the mountain halls. Muuzaduk knows that sacking the surface is illegal, but his goods are highly desired which causes both my guard and the people to overlook his flagrant disregard for the law. In fact, I know that my guards overlook him because they can pick up cheap replacement uniforms from him as a bribe for their complacency. Muuzaduk is seen as a folk hero for his courage in going to the surface to steal from the humans that have killed so many of us, but it is because of teratolion like him that we may see another crusade march against us.”
“By creating legitimate markets, we’ll reduce violence between the races due to unmet demand, squashing opportunities found only in crime, and thus in turn create even more peace,” I say remembering the flying merchant barely concealing his dismissal of the law as he shouted advertisements for his contraband, “so, do you already have a strategy of where to send me to establish trade for you and your people?”
Upendo bites the inside of the lip of his snout with his fanged teeth as he deliberates within his mind the proper course of action, “That is where things get difficult, as Tackenae isn’t a united nation. There is the Leathfola to the south, which are probably the best qualified to be called the leaders of Tackenae, but…”
“But what, exactly?” I ask thinking that they sound exactly like who I should go to create a diplomatic relationship.
“The civil war they are currently involved in, the demon slave trade that the Leathfola bankroll to the suffering of glirdon and teratolion alike, and their support of Wakuda when they crusaded against my people all are reasons that disqualify the Leathfola from being a first choice for trade,” frowns Upendo in response, “Though, the civil war may be grounds for opportunity. Revolutionary serfs long oppressed by uncaring and long unproven royalty no longer sporting the powers promised by their legendary ancestors have been skirmishing with the Leathfola barons since even before the armies of the Leathfola and Wakuda crusaded against my people. Only within recent years have the revolutionaries organized into more than just small bands of saboteurs and have become a legitimate threat to Leathfola supremacy in the south. It’s thanks to the consolidation of the revolutionaries that the civil war in name only was invigorated to such a degree the civil war became an actual war which diverted enough resources from the Leathfola and the armies of Wakuda that the crusade against my people ended, or rather was postponed.”
“Your words reveal that you aren’t completely disqualifying the Leathfola as an option for trade,” I say wondering as to why they’d still be a choice, “the Leathfola sound like your enemies, so why even extend a hand to them?”
“As I said, war creates opportunity,” says Upendo with an expression upon his face that tells me he isn’t happy that the Leathfola are unfortunately still an option as a trade partner, “Wakuda withdrew back to their lands not wanting to get involved in the internal conflicts of the Leathfola, as spilling demonic teratolion blood was all that united Wakuda with the Leathfola; thus, their alliance was weak to begin with. However, now that the Leathfola are alone in their conflict with the revolutionaries this means that the desire to crush an old annoyance which is now a threat to their dominance may sway them to consider rethinking ancient antagonistic relationships.”
“Just because there is a possibility to establish trade, doesn’t mean that it’ll be worth the relationship that comes with it,” I say looking to Ashe, and I see Maria in her countenance, “sometimes who you let into your life and allow yourself to trust can destroy you. Do the Leathfola have anything that makes them desirable? Are they honorable? Is there anything that makes them worthy of the risk of trusting them?”
Upendo nods his head as he also looks to Ashe and then to me before he responds, “not all of the Leathfola, but some have something I desire greatly. A select few of the Leathfola have entered into talks with the people of Visgal and have obtained water-wheel powered machinery that fill incredibly productive factories that can generate goods faster than any artisan, weaver, or craftsman. I personally do not wish to enter any trusting relationship with the Leathfola, but if they are a stepping stone to creating a relationship with Visgal and obtaining the technology that they possess, then that makes the Leathfola valuable as a trade partner. However, even if I desire Visgal technology greatly, the Leathfola are still the last people on my list of possible trade partners.”
“So, do you wish for me to go to the revolutionaries instead?” I ask and in my question I shake my head and say, “no, they aren’t a good option. If we want trade then we need a people that has resources to spare, and right now the revolutionaries are most likely investing all their resources in fighting a war with those that have a surplus. They are serfs fighting against their masters, so… if we want anything from them then we’d need to help them win the war first and I don’t think you or your people want to raise your claws against an opponent that can actually pose a challenge after enduring the crusades.”
“You are right. I do not wish to go to war again. If we did support the revolutionaries it could be years before that relationship becomes fruitful, but we could ask for the factories as recompense for our support… though it’d be a small reward for the potential loss of life and resource investment just to obtain the machinery and buildings of the Leathfola factories but we’d be denied a direct path to creating the relationship with the creators of said objects,” says Upendo confirming my words and in turn leaving both of us with two options that feel like choosing between a dung filled cake and a dirt sandwich.
“Are there any other options we have?” asks Cran lowering his hand from Ashe’s mouth.
Ashe glad to have her voice freed breaches with decorum again, “you said that Tackenae isn’t united so there must be more options, unless it’s because of the civil war and in that case, we’ll just have to pick a side and pray.”
“Luckily we do not have to pick sides in a war we shouldn’t get ourselves involved in,” says Upendo putting up with Ashe’s clear slight against his status, “We do have two other options: the herders of central Tackenae, and the guilds in the north. However, I do not think that the nomadic herders of central Tackenae will result in the best return on our investment. The nomadic herders are more large families that have formed a loose coalition, which gives them some form of political identity in Tackenae, but not necessarily political power. In addition, their goods are limited to meat and animal by products like wool. Which leaves us with the Trade Guilds of the Lost Mountains who do trade with the herders, revolutionaries, and the Leathfola. Though the guilds too are not a united front, like apparently everyone in Tackenae, there is a caveat in that if we form a bond with one of the guilds they can act as our emissary with the others essentially gifting my people an already functional trade network to exploit. I’d say the north is our best option. However, you’ll be my eyes and ears out in Tackenae so maybe you’ll learn something I do not know and make a different decision once you are out in the field.”
“So, when do I leave for Tackenae?” I ask getting up from my stool clutching my satchel, “I’m already packed and ready to serve.”
Upendo lets out a hearty laugh seeing my enthusiasm, “Well, I’d love for you to start immediately, but alas my kingdom isn’t the only people we must consider.”
I sit back down and raise a hand to beg Upendo to continue, “I have my own alliances to consider, and as such I must test you as an ambassador by seeing if you can curry favor with the Glirdon of Claw Wing Peak before sending you out into Tackenae.”
“I’ve never met a Glirdon before,” whispers Ashe to Cran to then look up at Upendo and cover her own mouth.
“So, when do I meet the Glirdon?” I ask bouncing in my seat as I don’t know whether I should rise or keep seated.
“Right now!” says Upendo rising from his throne, and I follow suit, “summon Mlinzi! We are going on vacation!”
“Wait what!” exclaims Ashe, Cran, and I.