Queen Ompera’s POV

Perched around the war-stone, my advisors updated me on our country’s situation. Today was hot and sticky, a rarity in this part of the country. It had rained earlier, but the Sun continued to shine, which filled the castle with fog. The castle’s staff cleared it out as much as possible, but more poured in too quickly for any satisfactory fix. Mages under my family’s employ even took to casting spells to cool the air as much as possible, but in a desert, that was a temporary solution at best.

“Your Majesty?” General Trygve said, drawing my attention back to the discussion and away from my burning tailfeathers.

“I am still listening.” I lied.

“Right, shall we move on to the situation of The Island of Sangu?”

“Yes. How are things proceeding?”

“After the Viking was killed by the Drakes, the front lines of the battle have shifted in our favor. Reinforcements landed and began to take territory from the invaders. Most of the survivors of the occupation were starving and diseased; aid was rendered once each of the sectors were cleared. But by our estimates, the island’s population has been reduced by eighty percent.”

“Is the island still viable for use?”

“Yes, but some of the residents have requested permission to leave.”

Another of the war council members, Viscount Sune Von-Pac, spoke up. “Roshia valks. They’d drain our resources further. We should confine them to the island.”

“Her majesty’s citizens cannot be left to suffer.” General Trygve said sternly.

“They are isolationist who only ever make contact with the mainland when they need something, and rarely ever pay taxes. We should have left them to the Southern Union. Maybe then we could have finally-”

“Mind your words, Viscount Sune.” I said.

“I… did not mean to offend, your Majesty. I simply meant-”

I cut him off again. “Enough. Your intentions were clear. But surrendering any of my lands to invaders is not an option.” Turning to the General, I nodded my head, and told him to continue the meeting.

“We have taken almost the entire island back. Only the main city still remains. The Southern Union built a stronghold into it, making sieges impossible, and forward attacks difficult. Even with the Viking, Harbinger, dead, they are still a significant force. I suggest redeploying the third regiment to the island to bolster our forces, and then attempt Grand-Scale magic.”

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“That would leave the city unusable for a decade. Can the Roshia survive that long without access to the resources of the city?” I asked.

“Not without aid from the mainland.” The General said, and the Viscount huffed, but said nothing. “Alternatively, we could relocate the Roshia until the land is usable again. Somewhere near the northern archipelago. Its lands are mostly untamed, but we could give it to them tax free for now.”

“So, they get tax free land, and when they leave, we get the land back and cleared, with prebuilt settlements. A fine idea, but make sure they understand that they will begin paying their taxes again once they either choose to stay on the lands permanently, or return to the island. We will give them twelve years without taxes.”

“And the ones that choose to stay, even after the Grand-Scale magic?” Another member of the council asked, Lady Fey; a Duchess with a sterling reputation for both battle and diplomacy.

“I doubt there will be any, but… perhaps aid could be rendered to the unaffected sections of the island?” General Trygve said.

“We cannot force them away from their home.” The Duchess said firmly.

“We won’t… my apologies. We will not be. If any should wish to stay, they can.”

“But you are suggesting Grand-Scale magic. That kind of destruction will force them off, whether they want to or not. Any who stay will die.”

“My mages are skilled. I am confident the damage will be limited to the city’s area.”

“With magic of that power, it does not matter how skilled one or two mages are. It takes hundreds to cast, and quickly becomes uncontrollable. Everyone here knows what happened to the border lands of the Seabeak Kingdom.”

“That was over two hundred years ago. Our mages are far more skilled than the Seabeak Kingdom’s.”

“My Kingdom will not be responsible for another Glass-Sea, General Trygve. I permit your forces to be reinforced by the third regiment, and I permit the use of Tactical-Scale magic, but you will not use Grand-Scale.” I told him.

“Yes, your Majesty. I understand.” The General replied. Honestly, that is probably all he wanted to begin with. But that is the game. He knew I would never allow him to use Grand-Scale magic, and he knew Duchess Fey would protest its use as well, but he needed to satisfy his own advisors by asking, even if it meant looking cruel and getting rejected. Forward two wingbeats, and forced back one. “Mobilize the regiments immediately.” I ordered. They bowed, and left to fulfill their tasks.

Back in my private chambers, one of my attendants was waiting for me by my roost. “Did the meeting go well, your highness?”

“We are alone, Svend.” I said, and landed beside him.

“Did the meeting go well, Ompera?”

“Viscount Sune is still insufferable, but he is the son of an important figure, so I can’t get rid of him yet.” I complained, leaning my head against his, and letting the tension in my wings fade. Svend was a trusted friend, and more. We have gotten to know each other well since he entered my employ six years ago, and we have grown closer than ever this year.

“How a Neame like him could be the son of a respectable Neame such as the late Viscount Arne, I will never understand.”

“Well, when two Neame love each other very much…” He and I both chuckled.

“You know what I meant.” He pulled his head away, and tilted it somewhat. “So, what was decided?”

“Tactical-Scale magic, and reinforcement from the third.” I said, and laid down in my roost. My head rested on the soft fabrics, and I tucked my wings in tightly.

“What did they ask for to get that?” Svend asked, surprised.

“Grand-Scale.”

“Oh my. Anything else I should know about?”

“I don’t know, it is too hot to pay attention.” I told him, and closed my eyes. The meeting had taken hours, and I was exhausted.

“Goodness, Ompera. Whatever will I do with you?” He sighed.

“I permit you to worship me at my wingtips.” I taunted. He scoffed and laughed.