Federal Republic of Orland
State of Ludendorf (Occupied)
November 18, 2025
In the distance, the war continued. Gunfire, artillery, rockets. All of them continued their endless barrage on the lines of both the Federalist and Royalist sides. Through the rough ride of the Presidential convoy, it was clear that the war was long from being over.
But, down here, in one standing village in the sea of destroyed Orlish towns and settlements, there was peace when they arrived. And for the first time, as the snow from the early Orlish winter began falling—it would be the place where two leaders met at last. Two leaders of one divided nation.
President Sullivan Rimpler wasn’t exactly hoping for any development from these talks. When he exited the armored APC he was on, he eyed the distant gazes of Royal Guard troopers in the distance. They were elite girls, Sullivan knew. But that didn’t mean he’d easily fold all because they were there.
He continued onward straight into the Arcanist monastery. Sullivan wasn’t exactly keen on worshipping or even respecting the churches of the Arcanist faith. To him and most revolutionaries, it was a religion only for the magical. Sure, these many Priestesses preached for good, even for men like him.
But the reality was that they looked down, fundamentally, on him. To the Arcanist church, all men bore the “original sin”. Hence, why, only women were pure enough to be born with magic. Of course, the church doctrine called for women to remain “pure”, free from sin, and use their magic for the correct things. But all of it was bullcrap for Sullivan.
They only used that narrative to make themselves look morally superior.
And since they were born without sin, and more pure…surely, they wouldn’t be able to be as “evil” as men like him. It made it easier for them to get away with their crimes.
He hated the monastery in front of him. Almost all men hated them. It was why his airmen barely regarded the rules surrounding religious sites. Even if they believe in the Goddess and her “path to eternal salvation”, they were dirty creatures rejected from day one. If there was a goddess, then to Sullivan, all men had no interest in worshipping her.
If anything, it would be a satisfaction to challenge her and bomb her prized holy sites.
Yet…
“It is an honor to have you here, Mr. Rimpler,” the young Priestess smiled and bowed a bit. “Her Majesty and her delegates are waiting inside. I hope this day is one of peace and dialogue, in front of the altar of Her Holiness.”
“...”
Sullivan wanted to bite back and insult her in front of his men. But he merely nodded and walked past her. There wasn’t much of a protection for Sullivan down here. The only real protection he had was the fact that they had already directly threatened the Eutstadt Government with full-scale nuclear retaliation should they conduct these talks in bad faith.
Not that he expected the Queen to pull out a suicidal stunt anyway. She was here too after all. Both of them, both leaders of the two warring sides, had a direct interest in keeping these proceedings hush, safe, and quick. And so, when he entered the room where the Royalist delegations were in, he went straight for his seat.
He gave the main figures inside the room a glance. There was the Queen herself in the middle. She almost stood up when Sullivan went through the door. But she sat back down. Beside her was the leader of the enigmatic ‘Office of Preventative Measures,’ Director William Porter. Sullivan knew who the young man was before getting that position. JTF-Ludendorf, the same command that stopped his quick war plan, was something he regarded with a level of hate.
And of course, there was the Royalists’ Minister of Foreign Affairs, Adelaide Wallenstein. She seemed to be relaxed in her seat. By the time Sullivan and his delegation sat down, silence reigned between the two sides. Sullivan of course sat right in front of the Orlish Queen.
And the two stared at each other for a while in stone, cold, silence.
Until he watched the Queen, strangely enough, grace him with a smile.
“I hope you had a safe trip, Mr. Rimpler,” she extended her hand. “Rebel or not, I believe you are one of my subjects. I am happy that you made it here safe and sound.”
Sullivan eyed her hand for a while. He found it quite curious. He watched this Queen, this young naive, way too idealistic woman, many times already. And he watched and watched the way she spoke. In a way, he understood why many men would be swayed to side and fight for her. Even now that she was speaking to him, her sworn mortal enemy, for some reason, Sullivan felt his cold heart thaw from her voice.
There was warmth in her voice. She wasn’t just telling him those words as, nothing but empty business-like blabber. She probably meant it. But Sullivan had already grown old and jaded at everything. A woman being kind was something he had seen many times already.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
It’s a trick. Always a trick. Sullivan reminded himself. Because if they even gave a crap about us, they wouldn’t have tormented us this much.
“I hope we can have a cordial conversation, Mr. Rimpler,” the Queen continued. Sullivan however just stared at her extended hand. “I want to talk to you and all rebel leaders. I want—”
Sullivan took her hand and shook it firmly.
“Then let’s talk,” he then retracted it and rested her back on his seat. “Alright, so what do you want from me?”
“Simple,” Amelie frowned. “Mr. Rimpler, I understand you do not like the Kingdom. I understand that you and all…rebel forces, you, Federalists, are hoping for good changes in the land—”
“We don’t aim for changes. We aim to destroy the system from its roots and plant a new one on its corpse,” Sullivan declared. “And you, you represent that system, Queen. You should go. You should be the one being asked to surrender. Not us. You say you want to change things. But you only want it if you and your ilk can stay in power. Then you’ll throw a bone at us to appease us. Then you’ll pat yourselves on your back.”
His sudden outburst silenced the Queen. He watched as her eyes faltered at those words, and how she looked down briefly. There was a smug satisfaction that briefly emanated from Sullivan. He had not faced this woman directly yet. But this time, the first time he truly met her.
He lectured her like the child that she was. Just a childish, spoiled young woman, that Sullivan believed deserved to never even have the power to rule a nation-state.
“I want change for the nation, Mr. Rimpler,” the Queen mumbled a bit. “That’s why…I do everything to get to that point. I just want the horrors of this world to end.”
“It will end if you just surrender.”
“And that’s a lie, and you know that, and everyone in this room knows that,” she replied, her voice now taking a firmer stand. “You and your Federalist forces have committed so many grave crimes against this Kingdom. Willingly, and in retribution. Retribution, Mr. Rimpler. Retribution. I may find your cause sympathetic, or something that I want. Something I support. But retribution? Even if you can twist it as justice, can I, the Queen of this land, allow some of my subjects to enact retribution against their fellow citizens?”
“You still see us as nothing but your subjects.”
“And that will remain true so long as Orland is my Kingdom and I’m on this throne,” Amelie breathed in. “Mr. Rimpler, you make the mistake that just because I call you my subject means that I look down on you. No, to me, it means that I have the responsibility to serve you and get you the best life you deserve. And that’s true for all Orlish citizens. Rebel, royalist, whatever—all of them are my subjects, and they deserve a good life, and justice. That’s the Kingdom I want to build. You may disagree with the idea of a monarchy, or of the current system. But I want to build a more human face for Orland’s system. Because that’s my responsibility and duty for my subjects.”
“I am not surrendering out of nowhere just because you said all these nice things,” Sullivan laughed. “I can say the same to you. That my revolution is all about equality for all and justice for those who have been crushed by the boot of the magical class. Because that’s what this is. The Federal Republic is just the manifestation of the will of the silenced. The class of men who had been given not even a decent life, or a voice on this Kingdom. The lower class, fighting back against you—the blueblooded nobles.”
Sullivan expected a hot comeback from the woman. In fact, he relished finally being able to say these things, these words that he could never throw at them, on her face. And watch in real-time how this stuck-up Queen would react. The matriarch of all matriarchs. The face of the system that had crushed him and his brothers for centuries.
He enjoyed it. It was…liberating. Almost catharsis. To strike back. To bite back. To show her, directly, the horrors that she and her ilk had created. The horrors they benefited from. And how he, and all Federalist revolutionaries, would be the ones who would clean it all up. He wanted it all. To watch her face the crimes she represented.
But no comebacks came.
“I see then,” Amelie sighed. “You and I are simply fundamentally opposed in that case. I can’t do anything about that, to be honest. And proving myself otherwise is too hard to do quickly. All of the plans I have…need real peace first. And it needs time. But, I still want to reach out to you.”
“What?”
“Peace,” Amelie pleaded. “Can we get there, one day? Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not in a month or so? But I want to ask, directly from you, the leader of the Federal Republic. Would you consider it?”
“I can ask the same from you—”
“And if I am in your position, cut off from the world, besieged, with all of my people now mobilized for the fighting just to have a chance, I won’t drag things to a bitter, bloodier end,” she shook her head. “I’ll lay down my arms and surrender. I have made it clear many times. I will never throw a tantrum if I’m the one losing, and threaten nukes and other nasty weapons. We’ve had enough. I don’t want such a horror to befall the Orlish people.”
Sullivan crossed his arms.
“I have no intention of giving away anything from the Federal Republic. This revolution will go on until the bitter end. Whatever that bitter end may be,” he watched her gulp. “Do you want us to get to that point?”
“No.”
“Then surrender.”
“I cannot do that. Not until I can guarantee the safety of the Orlish people.”
“Then we might just get to whatever ‘the bitter end’ means,” Sullivan shook his head. “What did I even expect from you.”
“And this is exactly why I am greatly worried,” Amelie’s voice cracked. “None of you are fighting anymore for a vision of a better world. All you want…is retribution.”
The room turned silent. Internally, Sullivan gritted his teeth as he prepared to deny it.
Now, it was Sullivan who had no comeback.