In the following days, many meetings were held between the intermediaries of the nations and interested parties. Although the Western Council occurred but once a year, it was treated as a chance for nations who didn’t have much contact between each other to converse and sign agreements. Smaller nations on the continent who hadn’t the resources or time to send consistent delegates to far away countries used this event to gather information, and in many cases, ask for support from these larger powerhouses. Whether financial or military based, many contracts and plans for aid were written up on this day, and many representatives were surprised by the diverse number of nations present. The entire castle was abuzz with servants and messengers running from corridor to corridor. From the residence wing to the dining halls, meetings were held in groups everywhere.

The Lakefur Group and The Mystica Kingdom among the groups engaged in such a meeting. Jonathan had gone to meet with the kingdom that was north of the Emeras construction site in order to renew his holdings in their territory, and discuss a new deal that would allow him to buy land closer to the border. This was all so he could be first to jump on Emeras once the city was built.

At the moment they had reached a lull in their conversation, neither men saying much but to comment on the scenery of the castle’s dining room. They were currently waiting on one of the Mystica Kingdom’s assigned servants to fetch them the updated contract. He had only been gone for a short time.

Both of them sat across from each other on the sofas. The room having been retrofitted just for today to accommodate smooth and comfortable negotiations. An empty table lay between the two of them at knee-height.

Jonathan patted his legs, looking around the room. Destiny and Frankie were gone, his assistant having taken her protege off to conduct a few minor deals for experience, hoping to teach her valuable business practices. That left him alone with the delegate, who Jonathan didn’t recognize and thus knew wasn’t important enough to socialize with.

A few people walked by the doorway of the room. Both men turned their gaze.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

The delegate from the Mystica Kingdom spoke.

“Hmm?”

“That there are so many representatives from all over the world. I found it hard to believe there were so many nations, despite being a state official myself haha.”

Then you make a poor delegate indeed…

Jonathan thought, but didn’t vocalize.

“While it’s true there are many nations on the Western Continent, you’d be incorrect saying they’re from all over the world. The majority of Hadea’s landmass is said to be on the Eastern Continent, after all.”

This got the delegate’s eyes shining. He leaned in.

“Oh?! Is that true? Have you been to the Eastern Continent Mr. Lakefur?”

Lakefur frowned while looking at the young man. Not overly eager to indulge the man’s curiosity. To have assigned such a bland fool as a delegate made him think about reconsidering his relationship with the Mystica kingdom, but he withheld his criticism. That could wait until he had a foothold in Emeras.

“Well I’ve never been on the main landmass, per se. But I have been as far as Passway, the island city that stands between our continents.”

The young delegate's eyes revealed his obvious, dripping interest in the topic. Jonathan grimaced not-so-subtly.

Shit, am I actually socializing with him now?

Jonathan hurriedly rushed to change the topic, answering a few of the delegate’s questions about the island but mostly brushing it off as being an inconsequential visit. Which was mostly true, as all of his visits had been for the purpose of business, not sightseeing. At that point the conversation lulled back into silence.

Is that servant ever going to get back with that contract?

Jonathan wondered as he closed his eyes, sinking back into the sofa. He had a few more meetings today, so he was slowly getting more irritated as this one dragged on.

“Who is that?!”

Jonathan’s face furrowed hearing the young man’s exclamation. Popping his eyes open, and resisting the urge to give the delegate a glare for his sudden shout, he turned in his seat to look back through the doorway.

Inside the large open banquet hall that was adjacent to their room, a small group of people were gathered around a tall porcelain-skinned figure with a completely blue suit and bowler cap on.

“Goddammit.”

The representatives around the leader of the Sanctum of Tellus, or the Tellus Cult as it was commonly known as, were dressed in all different fashions. Indicating to Jonathan that the cult leader was speaking to representatives of several nations.

“Damn. I know some of those representatives. That’s General Jacinth from Mont Ryoux right there, and next to him is Jiro Haulphleed, from the Mystica Kingdom. Both are the leaders of their delegations!”

Jonathan turned back toward the Mystica delegate, miffed that he didn’t even recognize who his own boss was talking to.

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“Never mind that, I have to go over there!”

As much as he didn’t want to be around essentially the embodiment of society’s perversions and ills, he could not let this opportunity slip away from him.

Jonathan slipped out of the room and walked briskly through the column-adorned banquet room. Totally having left the young delegate in the dust, confused as to what had happened.

…

“No, I had never entertained such a thought.”

“But even during the Mysticism Crisis, you never thought about acting? Can that really be believed?”

“Haha, believe it or not, it does not matter. Only the future is worth thinking about, and I say it’s looking bright indeed.”

Stanley bobbed his head back and forth, leaving the representatives around him to pair the tone of his voice with his body language to determine his joking demeanor. His strange turn of phrase having slightly caught them off-guard.

“Oh, haha!”

“Haha, yes, to the future.”

A round of polite laughter was prompted, followed by a toast, and the representatives took measured sips of their wine. Quick looks were exchanged between them. All had gathered around the cult leader to determine his intentions for the conference, and all were pleasantly surprised. Some of the representatives knew beforehand of his intentions as he had declared them, and were surprised today to hear that he still intended to follow through. While others were shocked to see the leader of the Sanctum of Tellus here at all.

Donning the approachable name of Stanley did nothing to shake the man’s reputation. He had a ‘colorful’ past, and one that was well documented by the historians on the Western Continent. While living for longer than any man had the right to, he has used his time to start wars on both political and ideological grounds, and cause terror on an unseen scale wherever he went.

That the man hadn’t been heard from much in the last eighty years gave the nations some relief, but their headaches seemed to have returned when someone had the balls to invite the man’s organization to attend the conference.

If they didn’t know of the man’s widely speculated-upon skill with the spectral arts, they would have ordered their servants to apprehend the cult leader. Even after eighty years having passed, there was still much fame that could be milked out from apprehending him. Although, looking around, the representatives noticed something. Wasn’t security a little lighter than it should be with certain members of the present company?

So why hadn’t they stopped him from being invited if they were so against it? An organization needed at least three attending nations to vote for its invitation, while only one was needed in order to veto. Yet none of them had learned of the organization going up for vote at any point in the last year, nor did they know exactly who had voted for the cult. Though they were kept in the dark as representatives, it would’ve been impossible for all of the nation’s leaders to be unaware of the attending organizations. Maybe some, but all? What were their higher ups thinking?

The representatives shared looks. While asking questions of the cult leader to gauge his reactions, they also judged who was speaking. It was determined by the end of the first volley of questions, that at least one of the voting nations was probably Mont Ryoux. The General had worn a smile on his face ever since Stanley had stepped into the banquet hall.

But just as someone was about to start the second volley, a man in a finely-pressed suit approached the group. The giant in blue spoke up first.

“Ah, Jonathan Lakefur, I was just thinking of asking if you wanted to join us. You looked so lonely in that cramped dining room, did you realize?”

The representatives eyed the newcomer. Lakefur was a name known to them all, and there was probably not a human nation on the continent that didn’t trade with them in some capacity. The merchant group’s supply lines were like roots that connected the entire continent.

“Mr. Stanley. What a pleasure I can say it is to have you in attendance for one of our conferences. A historic moment, I daresay it is? How long has it been since the Sanctum was last present?”

A few of the representatives inhaled a chuckle. It was clear that Lakefur had no love for the cult leader. Who could blame him? If the conference had taken place eighty years ago when his organization was more active, perhaps many of them might have relatives who had suffered at the cult's hands. But not in the current age.

Stanley snapped his fingers, drawing them into “L” shaped gestures toward the merchant that none of those present recognized.

“It’s the first time actually. You might be surprised, but the Sanctum has never attended nor seen any reason to attend this conference.”

Jonathan raised his brows.

“You mean you’ve never been invited?”

“Of course.”

…

While Jonathan hadn’t been able to gain much from speaking with the delegation leaders, he was happy to have broken up the ‘party’ that had been forming around Stanley. Now however, it was time to forget all that and focus. The next day, the main event had started. Time had come for the official conferences between nations and organizations.

The purpose of these conferences was to propose mutually beneficial laws and agreements that would then be submitted to the higher-ups of each kingdom or nation. Namely these were the kinds of proposals that if agreed upon, would go straight to parliaments or even the kings of these nations to be looked upon. Since the points raised in each meeting would be included as a record with each proposal, the lawmakers of these nations generally looked upon these proposals favorably. For organization’s like the Lakefur Group to be included in the process, made it doubly beneficial if they could get an invitation.

It was a lobbyist’s wet dream.

Although the second day of the Western Conference would consist of agreements like the last, it was different in that these meetings were organized regionally. Conferences were ordered by the area or idea that they related to, and the nations and groups in question were called upon to be present. Multiple conferences involving the same parties could happen at once throughout the day, and thus the number of representatives available came into play.

The three-person cap of private and civilian organizations was especially noticeable here, as it meant that if multiple conferences were happening simultaneously that involved one’s party and they were not in attendance, their stance would be voided on that issue. This would then limit their ability to speak on laws that might affect their territory or status. In addition, they wouldn’t be able to raise any of their own concerns on regions to which relevant meeting they did not attend.

For this reason, many were questioning why the Sanctum of Tellus had only attended with one member.

In a rotund room inside the castle, four parties were gathered around a circular table with a myriad of papers arrayed around each representative. Among them were a representative from the Kingdom of Pytheonia, one from Mont Ryoux, one from Blackreed, and one from the Lakefur Group.

The host of the meeting, as well as the official owner of the region in question, spoke first. A representative of the Kingdom of Pytheonia called to order.

“Here be it, that all in attendance on this second day of Royal Year 649, shall come to discuss the fate of the region known as The Trescult Woods. Let the regional conference start now.”