What Reivan really didn't want to happen was for the people of the republic to somehow blame the darkin for the misfortune that befell their nation.
Some would say that he was overthinking things or he was too cynical. But people weren't the most rational creatures when they were pressed by hard times. The darkin were primarily composed of charming young women, but they also had very eerie appearances if one focused on their black wings, their ebony hair, crimson eyes, or the fact that they could conjure dark flames.
One could even say that they were ominous. Harbingers of misfortune or some other baseless accusation. Even though they've only shown good behavior during the time they've spent on this side of the portal, the people of Arkahn didn't know that. And they wouldn't appreciate it either.
‘They’ve been nothing but sweet, well-behaved girls who seem a little clueless because of their new environment. I don’t want them to experience such scorn.’
Reivan had read enough stories to somewhat predict the possibilities. Even if those were all just fictional, he’d always thought they made sense—people found it difficult to be kind when the world was being cruel to them. In ways, he was the same in his past life. Of course, he had very good people around him so he never truly became some asshole that made trouble for everyone. But the act of charity just before his death aside, he'd been very selfish.
In any case, he was watching out for the worst outcomes.
‘It would be too much if I didn't hear them out though…’
“Is there a particular reason why you seem adamant about this?” Reivan asked with a troubled expression. “Do you perhaps find the kingdom’s reception lacking in some way?”
Iselle’s shoulders jumped and she vehemently shook her head. “No, no! That could not be further from what we feel, Your Highness. I and my people have vividly felt the kingdom’s sincerity and hospitality. We have nothing to complain about.”
“That’s certainly good to hear. Then why?”
She hesitated for a moment, seemingly arranging the words in her head. Then she took a deep breath and began. “The kingdom is both powerful and plentiful. There are valiant warriors, intelligent scholars, earnest workers, and capable leaders. Would you not say so, Your Highness?”
Reivan crossed his arms and nodded. ”Indeed. But what’s your point?”
Again, the words stalled in her throat as she hesitated. But that didn't last long.
“This place does not need us.” Iselle breathed out with difficulty. “We have no place in it.”
“That’s taking it a bit too far…” Reivan gently chided, glancing at his sister and Helen for support. “You haven’t been here for very long. It's not a sufficient period of time to warrant such a harsh judgment.”
“I’ve already told her that,” Jiji said with an exasperated smile. “She wouldn’t listen. I even cited how my race, the Terracatta Clan, are newcomers here too.”
“Mhm.” Helen nodded. “There’s never enough knights. Just like the Warbeasts in the order, the darkin should join up too, after sufficient training. I think you’re rushing things.”
Despite the voices of assurance, Iselle didn’t seem to be very moved. She shook her head and stared right into Reivan’s eyes. “The kingdom is a big table where every seat is occupied by people who belong there. We, as newcomers, can only stand to the side and wait for one to be prepared. The civilization we have built may have been destroyed, but our honor remains. We do not wish to one-sidedly benefit from the kindness of our benefactors. In our world, one must pay their dues. And one must work for their laurels.”
Reivan groaned. “It’s not as if we saved you for profit…”
“We know.” The darkin bowed her head with a smile. “And that makes us want to prove our worth and help you even more. Please allow us. Please give us a chance.”
‘Well, damn.’
Honestly, Reivan was inclined to just let them. He could understand their sentiments, after all.
They didn’t like being useless burdens. That resonated with him. Very deeply.
But that said, they had little stake in the conflict between Argonia and Aizen. Was it really okay to potentially allow them a direct road to their destruction? One could say that the darkin had responsibility over themselves, but they weren’t knowledgeable enough about the world for that.
Even a child has more common sense than them. And one wouldn’t allow a child responsibility over themself, right? If a toddler wandered over to the ledge and fell off the second floor, nobody blamed the toddler, right? They'd blame the guardians who were supposed to prevent such a tragedy from happening in the first place.
And in that analogy, the darkin were clearly the toddlers and Aizen was their guardian.
Seemingly sensing his hesitation, Lady Iselle pressed forward, grabbing his hands pleadingly. “Please, Your Highness. We have heard that the place you are going to has been plagued with uncomfortable—nigh unbearable—heat. My kind is resistant to such things. We also require little food and do not need water to survive like you humans do. You can simply leave us to our own devices and we will prove useful.”
Reivan looked to Helen and Jiji for help again.
Helen was the first to voice her opinion. “I don’t see the problem, as long as they learn proper military discipline first. Their way of fighting seems a little… unpolished. So maybe we could have some knights teach the darkin martial arts while serving as reserve forces over there. Ah, and naturally, we should have anyone who is eligible and willing to swear the oath do so. That way, they can get a soul armament, adding another layer of safety for them. And it also ensures they'll follow orders and won't just charge ahead in search for glory.”
When she mentioned someone teaching the darkin how to fight, Reivan’s mind reflexively thought of Sir Donovan. But he quickly shook off that thought. The darkin may have looked like fallen angels, but they didn't deserve whatever hell Donovan would put them through. Maybe they’d all run back into the Outlands to get away from the guy.
Besides, Donovan was an Ascendant. And as such, he couldn’t be brought to Lageton.
‘It would be possible if they stayed here to train for a year or two. But they seem to want to come with me to Lageton now.’
Donovan was also busy training the human talents of the kingdom, so suddenly dropping hundreds of darkin onto his lap was a bit much.
The other knights would have to do.
‘Ah. Why am I thinking as if they’re already going?’
That was still up for debate. But he'd somehow unconsciously thought of things as if the matter had been decided.
“Jiji told me that to get those strange weapons…” Iselle whispered to herself. “One must swear an eternal oath of loyalty to the kingdom that can never be broken. The weapons grant great power, though. And are durable enough for those with more wings to use.”
“That’s right.” Reivan snapped out of his thoughts. “Would you be willing? All of our warriors have sworn those same oaths. That is how they can all trust each other on the battlefield.”
With some hesitation, Iselle nodded. “Our fate is already intertwined with the kingdom… I will be the first among us to swear the oath.”
‘Wow. She’s really up for it!?’
Truthfully, he hadn’t expected that. He'd been hoping that it would scare her off.
It was one thing for someone born and raised in Aizen, growing up on stories of knighthood and being treated well by the royal family. But outsiders would generally shy away from such a binding vow, right? The Terracatta Clan justifiably didn’t swear any oaths until years later, when they were sure that the kingdom would treat their people fairly.
Yet Lady Iselle seemed willing to agree just like that?
‘It hasn’t been a month since they arrived...’
They couldn’t possibly feel attached enough to the kingdom to feel at ease swearing an unbreakable oath of loyalty. As such, it was at that moment that Revian truly realized just how desperate the darkin felt.
Desperate for a place in this new and strange world they’ve arrived in. Desperate to be accepted.
Desperate for... well, anything. Anything they could work with to carve out a future for themselves. It occurred to Reivan that if he was a less morally scrupulous person, this would have been the moment he realized that he could take advantage of these aliens for everything they were worth.
Luckily, he wasn't that much of an ass.
“Conflict and survival are all we’ve known,” Iselle gripped his hands firmly. “Please let us show you. I don’t wish for it to sound like an excuse, but I am much stronger than what I have shown you today…”
“Oh, I don't doubt that...” Reivan grinned sheepishly. He’d also felt that she was holding back a bit.
In particular, he was a hundred percent sure that her black flames could maintain a much more lethal temperature compared to what he’d experienced. Clearly, even though she was taking the spar seriously, she remembered to hold back enough not to really harm her opponent. An opponent was not necessarily an enemy, after all.
Of course, Reivan also had some lethal cards held back, so she wasn’t the only one who didn’t show everything off.
“If all of you get wiped out…” Reivan released a troubled sigh. “What would we tell the rest of your people? The one we intend to save from the Outlands?”
“Tell them we fought valiantly,” Iselle said, without hesitation. “Tell them we endeavored to set the stage for their arrival. That we tried to have this world accept us so it may accept them when the time comes. That we wished to create a home here that they can rest their wings in the moment they breathe this wonderful world’s air.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Reivan was momentarily enamored by the noble sincerity in the darkin's voice. Now, this was the kind of person you wanted as a leader. Someone willing to step in the way of danger first. Though he wished she wasn't, right now, because he really wanted her and the other darkin to stay safe.
As he hesitated, Jiji chimed in.
“I don’t see the problem, Yani,” she said with a shrug. “It’s not like we’re going to throw them into all the dangerous situations. How’s this? We make them reserve forces until they finish some level of combat training and gain experience in our world. That’ll keep them safe, but they’ll also grow into an asset for the new nation—which, by the way, hasn’t been named yet. You should get on that soon.”
“Reserve…” the darkin muttered, obviously displeased.
Jiji snorted. “Izzy, you underestimate the quality we expect out of our allies. You may be powerful—and power is certainly important—but it also isn’t everything. It is not enough for you to have ways to slay foes, you must also know what ways your foes have to slay you. And you must naturally come up with ways to avoid their ways. Even if it means shunning your own strengths. Because it is not a victory if you're dead.”
Helen nodded with a soft grunt. “You seem strong, but in this aspect, you are weak. Acknowledge that weakness and act accordingly until you can replace it with strength.”
Reivan raised a brow. He never thought he’d suddenly hear Helen quote one of the kingdom’s classic works. She wasn't much of a reader, after all. When his surprise subsided, he turned to the darkin who still hadn’t let go of his hands. “I will deliberate on the matter, Lady Iselle. But if I do agree to take you along, it will be under the conditions my sister has mentioned.”
“That’s…”
“I know you have your own motives, but this kingdom did not rescue you for the benefits you bring. And I did not advocate for you just so I can see you fly to your own deaths. Both of us want the darkin to prosper. Let's work together to ensure that, okay?”
Lady Iselle’s crimson eyes trembled as their gazes met, but she eventually relented. With a deep bow as her grip tightened, she said. “Your Highness’ consideration for us has moved me. Thank you.
"I'm glad you understand."
"Then... I will have my people ready to leave with you at any moment.”
“I’m still thinking about it, okay? I may just refuse and have you all stay here until you fully adjust.”
“I will be waiting for the good news.”
‘She’s suddenly not listening to me!’
With that, Iselle left the slightly ruined courtyard. She seemed to know where she was going, which was probably due to how frequently Jiji toured the palace with her.
“What a headache…” Reivan pinched the bridge of his nose and threw a side glance at his sister. “And you knew all of this.”
“Only some of it.” Jiji turned away with a huff. “She’s nice and well-behaved most of the time, but she can be stubborn.”
“I could see that.”
“I really did try to persuade her out of it, okay? But she was really adamant and I was eventually convinced that it’d be fine. That’s why I helped her. I didn’t know all of her reasons, though.”
“What are the chances that…” Helen kneeled down and picked up a clump of dirt burned by darkin flame, examining it closely. “She has another agenda?”
Reivan raised a brow. “Like what?’
Helen threw the clump away and solemnly stood up. “Maybe breaking off from our supervision?”
Jiji snorted at her. “Then she wouldn’t be willing to swear an eternal oath at all. I’ve already told her about that without missing the important detail of the eternal unbreakable oath being eternal and unbreakable.”
Smelling the brimstone in the air, Reivan got between them before the two started arguing or something. “Well, nothing to it. I’ll talk to our elder brother. Ask him what he thinks about this.”
“Oh? Already running to big bro, huh?” Jiji teased with a smirk. “Isn’t this the time to practice some independent thought as a ruler?”
“Silly little sister. I’m a figurehead, remember? Of a vassal nation, at that. I naturally have to make sure that my actions are in line with my boss’ intentions.”
‘Besides, with the lives of the darkin on the line, I shouldn’t let pride lead me into stupid decisions.’
With their morning sparring over and done with, they all parted ways for the day.
Jiji had her own duties and preparations to make. And Helen told him to go ahead and meet with his brother while she handled wedding matters for him.
Meanwhile, Reivan cleansed himself before heading straight to the king’s office.
----------------------------------------
“I don’t see the problem here. Go ahead, if you want.”
That was the response Reivan immediately got from his brother when he explained everything.
“That’s it?” Reivan asked, feeling as if things were developing a bit anticlimactic.
Sitting behind a majestic desk engraved with time and history itself, King Roland ceaselessly worked through an intimidating pile of paperwork laid down on the ground next to his desk. “Rather, won’t they be a big help, being capable of flight and all that?”
“They won’t be interrupting some sort of overarching plan, right?”
“Their arrival is entirely unexpected, little brother.” Roland chuckled, signing off on a document with a flourish before moving on to the next one. “We never had plans with them in it. So just by existing, they've somewhat affected all our plans already.”
Reivan nodded to himself. “That’s a good point.”
“Besides, the plan in Arkhan is to play it by ear, remember? The place is too chaotic to develop any sort of strategy. In fact, the only viable plan is to huddle up in Lageton and build a foundation of rapport with its people. That’ll make the takeover smoother.”
“That’s true…” Reivan grunted, putting the matter of the darkin on hold for now. He’d sleep on it before deciding. “By the way, any tips on how to run a country?”
“I haven’t been king long enough to have those, you know? Why don’t you ask Father? I swear, that man has just been fooling around all this time… Meanwhile, we siblings are swamped with work!”
‘I’m… I’m not actually swamped with work. I will be, though.’
“Still…” Roland put down his quill and stared at his brother. “I guess I can give you some of my thoughts.”
“Sounds great. Hit me with them.”
“For one thing... I think that Lageton, as it is, can only endure for now. The intense heatwave makes it very hard for ordinary people to get any work done outside the city.”
Reivan crossed his arms and sat on the windowsill, his back to the open skies. “I agree.”
“You could depend on knights and battlemages to repair roads and whatnot. But everything else should be left to the ordinary people when the climate stabilizes.”
“Because it’s an opportunity to kickstart the economy back to a serviceable state by offering jobs to the largely jobless laborers in the city?”
“Precisely.” Roland smiled as he gave the top of his desk a light slap. “The main problems in Arkhan at the moment are the absence of economy—thereby devaluing money—and, of course, the relative idleness of the population.”
“Really? I could've sworn it was the heatwave and the giant empire marching armies across the land in a bid to swallow the entire nation.”
Roland chuckled and didn't disagree with him before continuing. “The heatwave can be mitigated and orthodox armies don’t just teleport a quarter of the continent in mere days. Feeding such large armies through lands bereft of natural resources would increase the difficulty even more. Argonia doesn't have sky arcs or any way to transport large numbers like we do, after all. As such, your unborn nation’s greatest problem remains to be its own people. You need to get them to work, and you also need to make money valuable again.”
Reivan sighed and tried to think why those were the problems, but he couldn’t come up with something he was satisfied with. “Why those two issues?”
“Hm.” Roland pinched empty air and an item appeared in between his fingers. With a smile, he showed it to Reivan. “What’s this?”
“A bluestone coin,” Reivan answered. “Worth ten thousand lumens.”
“What do you think I can get with this?”
“Hm... a lot?”
“And how many of these things do you think I have?”
“...A lot.”
“At what rate do you think I acquire these?”
“...A lot, right? I haven't been paying attention to the treasury...”
Roland frowned at him, obviously not very happy with his answers. “Let’s look at it this way. The fact that this coin has any purchasing power at all grants power to the government. Go and head and take a look outside, Rein.”
Doing as he was told, Reivan turned his head and looked at the kingdom’s capital sprawled out beneath him. With his eyesight, he could make out the countless specks bustling about. “I’m looking.”
“Every single one of those people is paying us taxes."
"Uh... I mean, that's true. But what about it?"
"Meaning, after a certain amount of time, their wealth is slightly reduced and the amount taken is deposited into our pocket.”
“That’s a horrible way to put it, but yeah. You're right.”
“We then spend the money we took from them on various things. Such as paying the peacekeepers a salary to maintain public order. Paying the structural maintenance workers to make sure bridges, roads, and a bunch of other things don’t suddenly collapse from wear and tear. Paying teachers and professors to teach in our schools… Now, turn all of that around."
"What?"
"The peacekeepers maintain public order partly because they are getting paid to do so, thereby feeding themselves and their families. Our nation's engineers maintain public infrastructure partly because they are being paid to do so. Teachers and professors offer their skills in our institutions because they are being paid to do so. Get it now?"
Reivan grunted. “Yeah…”
“A government cannot function well if these little shiny rocks and the bills we print have no value.” Roland reiterated. “As long as it has value, money is power. It moves people. It can solve problems. And we, as the rulers, can even mint more, if we need to, essentially granting us infinite power. That essentially means we can move the people. We can make them want to move. We can reward them for moving. We can do many things. A lot of things. With this objectively useless rock whose value exists because we treat it as if it is valuable.”
“I understand now… We really can’t just cruise through with strength alone, huh?”
“Maybe. If we have the muscle, we could threaten people to stay in line. But that’s not a government. That is tyranny. Now, it’d be fine if that was how you wanted to do things—”
“It’s not.” he immediately cut his brother off.
Roland seemed happy about this and continued. “That’s good. Really good. Moving back on track, that’s one of your problems—currency is worthless to the people at the moment. You have pseudo-money in the form of relief goods right now. But you need to re-establish a more orthodox form of currency. One that doesn’t expire or attract mice. One that you can make with a non-perishable resource that is worthless for anything else.”
“Right. The second is idleness?”
“Exactly. People get up to all sorts of nonsense when they have nothing to do. And I’m not just talking about rebellion or crime. It’s dangerous for them to get used to getting food in exchange for doing nothing. When the time comes that the nation needs them to work, they’ll compare it to the time when they got to sit around and do nothing all week on the government’s dime. There are, of course, other overarching problems with such a high rate of idleness, but those are the first ones off the top of my head. It’s fine right now though, but this situation cannot persist for too long. It must not become a norm.”
“Understood. I suppose there are other problems, they're just not worthy of mentioning because we can solve them easily?"
Roland chuckled. "That's right. We have actual power, Rein. One that doesn't depend on the populace's acceptance. With that, we can magically make certain problems go away. Like those giant balls of lava that apparently showed up around Lageton the moment you left."
"You just had to remind me... Anyway, thanks a lot. This conversation was... well, enlightening.”
“Eh, it's no big deal. It was about time for a break, anyway. If I stare at another piece of paper, I might just turn into one. Besides, how could I ignore my beloved little brother who is so enthusiastic about helping out with the family business?”
Reivan scoffed and shook his head, throwing one more glance at the metropolis below and secretly comparing it to the bleak cityscape of Lageton, a once-growing city thriving from the good relations between the kingdom and the republic.
‘Haahhh… Now I’m bummed out again.’
The task of getting Lageton back on its feet now fell on his shoulders. But he didn’t know if he had what it took to succeed before the nation collapsed in on itself.