Cent. Calendar 29/11/1639, Esthirant, Parpaldia, 14:35

“Hmm... Just the right amount of bitterness as always.”

The sharp, almost tingly flavor of grounded coffee beans was something that Kaios would never get tired of. Its distinctive aroma was enticing and, in itself, something of a drug that he just couldn’t stop taking. Perhaps such was the reason for this four-star-rated cafe in the northwest end of Esthirant, the imperial capital of Parpaldia, to only serve them in quaint amounts. It was either that or an entirely different reason related to ongoing events.

Kaios felt himself sinking in his seat from the plentiful comforting feelings he was getting from each sip of the coffee. Still, as the chair of the Third Foreign Affairs Department, he has to maintain a certain standard of civility in public, and so he continued to sit with a firm pose. Sitting on the seat opposite him was someone of different circumstances, leaning onto the seat with an almost crooked back and displaying his displeasure with the coffee’s pungent aroma.

“This is too high class for my taste! Blegh!”

Accompanying his hoarse voice was his equally rough personality. The man was Hendric, a captain serving with the Parpaldian Imperial Navy. Unimpressed by the cup of coffee’s taste, he put it back down on its saucer and elected never to touch it again. As for why a high-level official like Kaios and a rugged, no-nonsense captain of the navy were having coffee together in the middle of the capital, there was no particularly special reason. As the chair of the Third Foreign Affairs Department, Kaios maintained a plethora of contacts and friends in the military as he believed in getting to know better the men he was sending on punitive expeditions across the region by the stroke of his pen. One of these friends was the man sitting in front of him.

“With time, you’ll get used to it.”

“Sure, if they’d only give me an office away from a ship and paperwork to mull over day and night, I don’t see why not.”

The two shared a chuckle with one another. It had been a while since they’d seen eye to eye, and despite their fields and social statuses being worlds apart, they somehow still hit things off, although that was largely down to Kaios’s agreeable personality. Wondering how his friend has been doing lately, he brought up relevant recent events.

“So, how’s the deployment upstate? I heard things got rough this time.”

The question was expected, but it still caught Hendric with his pants down. His eyes darted here and there as he rested his jaw on his hands, deep in thought about how he’d answer. As if settling on something agreeable, he snapped his fingers and leaned forward.

“The deployment was nothing special–it was just a routine deterrence mission. What I can say, though, is that we were able to seize a hundred or so refugees, probably from Panera or Grano. Poor bastards... Some of them were almost skeleton-like, but the colonial authorities took the more healthy ones to god knows where.”

Hendric served as the captain of the Harmattan, a river monitor designed to navigate and patrol Parpaldia’s countless rivers and inland lakes. For this particular mission, the Harmattan and a small company of marines were sent up the river to the north where Parpaldia’s colonies and conquests lay–unsurprisingly, it was also where the Grand Crater Mines, the largest mana stone excavation operation in Philades (and probably the world), was located. Due to worsening socio-political conditions in northern Philades, coupled with the resentment from the fact that those Parpaldian colonies were former territories of the other civilized nations, rebellions and uprisings are a common sight there. While the bulk of Parpaldia’s venerable Imperial Army was already deployed to the region, the Harmattan was still deemed necessary to deter any prospecting locals with disobedient tendencies. Since the matter concerned Philadean diplomatic and geopolitical affairs, the deployment was not Kaios’s call to make, so he had no idea as to what transpired besides going off of official reports. As such, he was intrigued to hear more from Hendric.

“More refugees? Curious indeed... I wonder why the northern alliance isn’t doing anything about this. Perhaps it’s intentional? The ramifications if so...”

The nation states of Panera and Grano, which shares a border with Parpaldia to its north, are members of the Philadean Northern Alliance, a pact of disgruntled nations that banded together out of a shared resentment against Parpaldia over the territories that were taken away from them. In spite of the name, it was nothing but a loose united front against a common enemy; in other aspects, the nations could not be any more disagreeing with one another, a facet that Parpaldia exploits. Since their establishment, the alliance has seen the widespread support of insurrections in their former territories, which at worst pegged the majority of Parpaldia’s feared military in an endless, fruitless whack-a-mole. As of late, however, the northern alliance has been mostly quiet and docile, which coincided with recent surges in refugees heading south.

Seeing Kaios brood over his story, Hendric elected not to talk about it any further.

“Bah! It’s just the usual, unexciting river patrols! What about you Kaios? I haven’t been around for five months so I don’t know what’s the situation here in Esthirant or anywhere else for that matter.”

As soon as he brought that up, however, Kaios smacked his lips and the curiosity and interest from his eyes vanished. Hendric, thinking he had struck a nerve, was about to backpedal when Kaios talked about it anyway, albeit in an open, less professional manner–a 180 from his demeanor just seconds ago.

“Have you heard of Japan, Hendric?”

“But o‘course! Even a busy captain like me would hear about something as noteworthy as that.”

“Then you must have also heard of what they really are?”

Kaios’s raised his eyebrows as he put his cup down on the saucer.

A mere week after the botched Lourian attempt to unify the Rodenius continent, news of a new player in the region making its presence known had already reached the cities and towns of Parpaldia, but stories of how they’re purported to have “appeared out of nowhere” earned them little more than dismissals from ordinary citizens and members high society alike. That was the case until, out of nowhere in the middle of Sivsly (Month 7), a strikingly beautiful white ship appeared in the harbor of the imperial capital. It was unlike the black-hulled iron and wooden boats of Parpaldia and the Third Civilized Region, but it was neither a ship from the Muish, the Mirishials, nor the Leiforians. As if that wasn’t enough, a white aircraft that was unlike anything they had ever seen flew over the skies of Esthirant, escorted by the elite wyverns of the Imperial Guard. After a bit of mass media coverage, the Parpaldians would come to know of the so-called “new kid in town.”

“From what they’ve shown us and from what we’ve learned, they’re supposed to be on the level of the great powers: Mu, the Mirishials–those guys. However, since they’re still in general proximity to Philades, we’ve elected to put diplomatic affairs with them under the jurisdiction of the Third Dept., which is my department. We’ve come to agreements on things like sovereignty, but we’re currently discussing the matters of standardizations regarding trade. With all that said, there’s one landmark deal we’ve been trying to push forward...”

Putting his arms on the table, Kaios leaned forward, the topic so intensely troubling that he felt he was on his toes. Hendric exclaimed, “ah!” as he got the answer after he took his time guessing what he was referring to.

“Are you talking about the Eastern Offshore Joint Resource Exploration Agreement?”

“Ugh...”

Hearing the very title of the deal got Kaios groaning and sinking into his seat before proceeding to explain it a bit more in-depth.

“You see, it was one of the first things the Japanese side proposed after relations were normalized. Apparently, there exists a massive oil deposit under the oceans to the east of our easternmost provinces. At first, we wanted to laugh it off since we didn’t believe that extraction wasn’t possible, but the Japanese were dead serious to the point that they gave us an outline of the plan should we come to an agreement. It was filled to the brim with mentions of technologies we could never have possibly imagined were possible. On top of that, they said that the oil there was ‘enough to feed Parpaldia’s, Mu’s, and Japan’s needs for a century or more.’”

“Gods, that’s mind-bogglingly lucrative if true. So? What’s the hold-up?”

“The hold up is the greed of those bastards; they want full control over the operation and a 30-70 split on the resources and profit.”

As Hendric was once more trying the taste of coffee by giving it a sip, Kaios’s statement shocked him so much that he spat the drink back out. As the rugged captain of a warship, he didn’t mind doing so, but that was not the norm in the metropolitan culture practiced by the patrons of the cafe; as such, their stares descended upon him and Kaios.

“Are they fucking hit in the head or what? What makes them think we’ll stick with 30%?!”

There was some sense to Japan’s proposal since most of the funding, manpower, and the required technologies would come from them, with Parpaldia only providing their consent and cooperation. However, even if it was sound, the fact that the Japanese would be reaping far more benefits from the venture than the Parpaldians was something that they could not absolutely allow–if not for pride, then for the sake of their image in the Philadean geopolitical arena.

“This brings me to my next point about this issue: that bitch Remille, the Foreign Affairs consultant to the Emperor–basically my boss–is intent on interfering with the process.”

“Remille? Do you mean that gorgeous, big-breasted woman with the killer stare? Didn’t take her for the bureaucrat kind, if you don’t mind my opinion. The more powerful they are in society, the more domineering they are in bed, as I’d like to believe.”

Kaios paused for a moment to stare at Hendric, inwardly unleashing his metaphorical barf at what he had just said.

“Anyway, discarding that unwarranted opinion of yours that no one asked you to give, she’s hell-bent on keeping the impasse in the negotiations, not unless Japan yields to shared control of the venture and a 70-30 split. The rhetoric she would use is... let’s just say that she has a masterful way to color her words.”

“It’s that bad, huh?... Okay, how about we talk about something else? What about Altaras–yes! Those guys across the sea! What’s new with those low-life miscreants?”

Kaios rose from his despondent pose on the table to a more composed one, albeit still exuding an aura that things weren’t going well. Perhaps there was nothing good going on, thought Hendric.

“Altaras... I’ve kind of lost track of how things have been going with them. Last I heard, they imposed tariffs on all sorts of Parpaldian manufactured goods from things like foodstuffs and furniture to ship parts, textiles, and so on due to us imposing exclusion zones around our holdings in the strait. We didn’t impose retaliatory trade measures, but I recall reading reports of two Altaran fishing vessels seized by the Navy when they ventured into the exclusion zones. I reckon that the Altarans will respond soon.”

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Due to its geographical position between Philades and Rodenius and its proximity to refueling outposts in between the Third and First Civilized Regions, the kingdom of Altaras has become an economically important center of trade. Not only is it blessed with plentiful natural resources of its own, which were its initial contribution to past civilizations in the area, but it is also blessed with smart yet cutthroat leaders that knew how to position the kingdom better against its peers. This, along with the wealth coming from its position as the center of maritime trade, was what gave it a relatively modern military force with leftover surplus from Mu and the Mirishials, both of which wanted a balancing counterweight in the region to expansionist Parpaldia. As a result, the proud Altarans and the equally arrogant Parpaldians have always been at each other’s throats–at least in recent history. Both were competing for economic, political, and military dominance in not only the strait but in the Third Civilized Region as a whole; this escalating trade war was only an extension of that. However...

“What do the Muish and the Imperials have to say about this? Last time tensions came to a head, they both threatened to walk back on earlier agreements.”

“I received calls from their ambassadors telling me to ‘exercise restraint’ and to ‘re-evaluate standard protocols to prevent escalation.’ So far, nothing too drastic, except perhaps for the fact that they forwarded the Altarans’ ‘vulgar’ protests on the matter, which I shelved in a category by the name ‘Trash’.”

Both men burst into mild laughter, perhaps the only time they will do so in this conversation. Making eye contact, Kaios and Hendric agreed that there was little left to discuss about this topic, so they moved on to the next.

“Ah, did you hear, Hendric? Three months ago, the Leiforian embassy abruptly closed down, but only now did they finally arrange something with Mu and the Mirishials about their status. I heard they were now stateless. I’m not aware of the official reason why, but I’ve been reading reports... So far, we’re still getting information from our contacts and personnel in the far west, but what they’re saying is consistent in one thing: their country was wiped out!”

“What?! That Leifor?! Preposterous!”

“It does, but the story goes similar to what the Japanese are saying: there’s a new country further to the west. With what we’ve seen with Japan, I’m not really sure discarding that story is prudent. Anyway, Leifor’s fall may be true since the Mirishials are currently preoccupied with affairs in that corner of the world, so much so that they’ve put ongoing negotiations on hold.”

As the day–as well as Kaios’s story–dragged on, the world continued to move around them, often at a pace that made obsolete what information they had on current affairs in mere days.

Cent. Calendar 01/12/1639, Hilkiga, kingdom of Riem, 11:45

Its port bustling with caravans and ships from all over the region, Hilkiga, the capital city of the kingdom of Riem, was perhaps the largest and most prosperous city on the eastern seaboard of Philades–if you don’t count several Parpaldian cities. Its resplendent city streets filled with traffic of horse-drawn carriages cutting through bricked commercial districts, both old and new, make it a fitting capital for the most populous and economically powerful states on Philades after Parpaldia. As it neared noon, the sun was reaching its zenith, but this far north meant that it was not as high in the sky as it is in the lower latitudes. As it was the first of Dessalinth (Month 12), the dry, cold winds from the east were starting to blow in, occasionally bringing with them the clouds that would bring the first trickle of snow.

As the dark gaze of winter stared at them from the horizon, diplomatic representatives of the nations that make up the Philadean Northern Alliance had gathered at a meeting hall at the royal castle. The diplomats that hurriedly searched for and occupied their seats were bearing unusually gloomy expressions that reflected the state of affairs in their countries, if not the entire region as a whole. Taking his seat on one end of the table was a man who wore a dark green tunic and a badge over his breast on which was emblazoned the horned serpent, Riem’s symbolic creature, and signature royal insignia. His strikingly emphasized jawline, adequately thick lips, and turquoise eyes were only set back by the fact that he was uncharacteristically short for a Rieman. His name was Rival, the meeting’s Rieman diplomatic representative appointed by the King in person.

“Why don’t we start this meeting at once? Let us present our data and findings on the alliance’s summer and autumn harvests.”

Commencing the meeting, Rival signed to his aides, who then presented on the table in front of him a collection of papers. The other diplomatic representatives around the round table followed suit. Setting his papers in order, Rival then spoke up once more.

“I shall go first...”

Starting with Riem, the members of the northern alliance reported on the numbers relevant to food production for this year’s harvests in their respective countries. Taking into account previous censuses that detailed the farmer population and expected agricultural yield and data from previous harvests, the nations present their findings with dreary tones. After the last nation to present had concluded their presentation, Rival leaned back on his chair and began to groan.

“Dammit... Another year of bad harvests!”

The cold, heavy atmosphere in the room got even more despondent.

It is not known why this year has had another series of subpar harvests, but one of the possible reasons was the unusually cold temperatures all year round for the last three years. Regardless of the cause, the continued decline and lack of productivity from the harvests meant the nations of north Philades were headed towards a crisis. They had been able to mitigate the low food stocks last year by drastically increasing imports from other nations, but this year was exceptionally different. Qua-Toyne, the traditional bread basket of the region, for some reason denied their requests for increased food imports, citing that their production quota–the highest in the region by a wide margin–for the next several years had already been bought out completely by another nation (who in the world needs all that food?!). Parpaldia, the other massive food exporter in the region, while traditionally their enemy, is also the next biggest exporter of food to the alliance. However, in their recent trade scuffle with Altaras, the alliance unanimously decided to take their side, to which the Parpaldians retaliated by introducing near-suffocating restrictions on the food trade with alliance nations.

The drastic drop in imports from the start of this year, coupled with dwindling local food stocks and implementations of widespread rationing, resulted in skyrocketing food prices in the region. Their increasingly unmanageable situation and worsening living standards had driven many people across the alliance, particularly the poorest individuals, to head south into Parpaldia to look for food, which led to the worst refugee crisis in recent Parpaldian history and the worst population declines of the nation-states of the alliance. Not even the economically stable Riem was safe from these effects. The ones that left were mostly farmers, which further exacerbated their bad agricultural yields during these past harvests. With a devastating famine looming over much of the continent and threatening to plunge the Third Civilized Region into chaos, Rival and his diplomatic counterparts tried to think of solutions.

“Has the Central World responded to our calls for increased food imports?”

“Yes, but they’re insisting on the fixed price even with bigger bulk orders. I personally don’t think that we could press them any further given our diplomatic standing.”

“Hah... And the Parpaldians? Can’t we do something about that?”

“They’re making... unreasonable terms in exchange for lifting the restrictions.”

The diplomats eyed one another, the desperate situations in their home countries driving them to consider such a preposterous solution; at that point, they might as well be grasping at straws. So as to hold back his peers from doing something too drastic, Rival coughed loud enough to catch their attention.

“Now, now, let’s not even think about caving into those devils’ demands. In fact, I actually have a solution to propose.”

Hearing that Riem, the largest and most powerful of the alliance nations, had a solution in mind, the other diplomats leaned forward to hear what he had to say.

“Yesterday, the Altaran ambassador came to us with a proposal regarding the food crisis. We’re meant to give them an answer once we’ve ‘consulted with the rest of the alliance.’”

Cent. Calendar 09/12/1639, Royal Castle, Le Brias, Altaras, 15:00

Further south, the climate was a lot more agreeable to be in, especially in winter. Given the temperate oceanic and subtropical climate that much of the island of Altaras is under, it was still undeniably a cold place to be in during the latter months of the Central Calendar. Situated in the subtropical forested regions of the northern coastal lowlands on top of being near the mouth of the island’s largest river, the capital Le Brias was a shining example of economic development. Silver spires reaching the skies glinted in the afternoon sun while impressive domes of all sorts of sizes lined the many rooftops of the city. At the center of the city stood the Tower of Prosperity, an office building housing Muish and Mirishial companies and the first skyscraper in the region, beating the Imperial Clock Tower in Esthirant by a year. To the east of the city lay its gigantic port, the volume of trade passing here as well as the number of ships entering its harbor managing to beat Esthirant’s numbers by a margin. Then, as if to signify the enormous power held by the kingdom over the region, a colossal, 20m tall statue of a muscular, naked man striking a menacing pose; its stern expression, extended finger, and uncomfortably detailed erect manhood ominously pointed north as if to intimidate their longtime rivals across the strait.

At the royal castle, a grand walled-off complex of rusted red bricks, sat the absolute monarchs that helmed the kingdom, of which Taara XIV was the present occupant. Unlike the countless bronze statues built all over the city, emphasizing his good looks, calm demeanor, and all-encompassing compassion for the people, he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum amid a high-level meeting with his ministers.

“I see...”

Taara muttered in a deep, dismissive tone as his bloodshot eyes pointed downwards. He had just heard about a report regarding another incident of a Parpaldian warship seizing the goods of Altaran fishing vessels that had gone into their so-called “exclusion zones,” areas they unilaterally delineated around rocks in the strait they claimed to be their territories. He had wanted to send a warship through the zones to send a message, but the last time they did so, the Muish and Imperials chided them, threatening to do something about the matter should they do it again. His mind out of options, he broke the silence with a scream.

“GODDAMMIT!!!”

His sudden outburst reverberated across the opulently built meeting room they were in, causing his ministers to cower in their seats as he stood up and threw his heavy, hardwood chair off to the side. They knew that it was best not to speak up whenever Taara was angry, but without any good ideas to put forward, he was not going to calm down–there was even one incident where he stayed mad for five days straight. Be that as it may, if they don’t come up with any soon...

“Any of you have any ideas in mind how we will ‘shove it’ in the Parpaldians’ asses?”

The Altaran king now directed his violent aura toward his ministers, the sound of his intense breathing single-handedly adding tension to the air. Just as they began silently eyeing one another, hoping for someone–the unfortunate sacrificial lamb–to offer themselves up on the altar of Taara’s anger, the foreign affairs minister spoke up.

“If I may, Your Majesty–”

“You may.”

The minister was cut by Taara’s prompt and impatient reply, causing him to pause for a moment before continuing his statement.

“We’ve received word from our ambassador in Riem about our offer regarding the northern alliance’s plight.”

“Well?!”

Taara’s impatience got the better of him once more, cutting off the minister just after he paused.

“They’ve accepted it, Your Majesty.”

“Well... That’s great!”

For the first time since the meeting started, a genuine, non-sarcastic smile emerged on the king’s face.

The offer to the Philadean Northern Alliance focused primarily on food exports to critically endangered nations. On top of an established volume to be sold to the alliance, which is yet to be agreed upon, the offer also includes conferring beneficial trade partner status to the alliance nations, decreased duties on incoming goods from the alliance, and so on. The offer was also intended to deepen the ties between the alliance and the kingdom, especially in the face of their common enemy. Now that the alliance had accepted the offer, there was much work to be done.

“But how do we get this good news to strike back at the Parpaldians?”

To this, the agriculture minister raised his hand and spoke.

“I think that we can afford to forward an initial batch of foodstuffs to the northern alliance as a gesture to affirm our willingness regarding this deal. Now, if my reports are to be believed, there’s currently a long list of spices and seafood bound for Parpaldia; with a royal edict signed by Your Majesty, that can be redirected to the alliance instead. Additionally, if we want to put the hurt on them even further, we completely cut them off from those articles.”

The smile on Taara’s face became even wider as he laughed and clapped his hands at the agriculture minister’s suggestion.

“I like that! Let’s proceed with that plan of yours! Now, for the particulars of this royal edict...”

King Taara and his ministers then began to carefully construct the terms of the royal edict, which they hoped would hurt Parpaldia for their transgressions. After a long afternoon of heated debate, the final draft for the royal edict had been created, which, later that night, King Taara would put his signature on, officially putting its terms into effect.

Cent. Calendar 10/12/1639, Imperial Palace, Esthirant, Parpaldia, 14:15

“Have you seen this?!”

The thundering voice of a displeased Ludius, Emperor of Parpaldia, echoed throughout a dimly lit meeting room at the Imperial Palace. He held out a piece of paper, a copy of Royal Edict No. 437, the edict that King Taara XIV of Altaras signed last night, for everyone–his different advisors, trusted department heads and chairs, and confidants–to see.

“How dare they?! Those heathens!”

Everyone in the room shared the same sentiments as their emperor, but no one wanted to earn his ire by speaking up.

In addition to its cutthroat rulers, advantageous geographical location, and rich lands, the island of Altaras had also been gifted with seas abundant with marine life. Having developed a taste for seafood in their culture, the Parpaldians had saturated their coastlines with fishing operations, but as the demand for more seafood grew, they started to look south. Long story short, Parpaldia is the biggest importer of Altaran seafood, in addition to spices that could only be grown on the island. With demand still continuing to grow, the royal government in Le Brias cutting off their biggest source of imported seafood presented some consequences to the Parpaldians. On top of that, the general price of food has also been rising as of late; this new edict would definitely drive the price of already precious seafood like crustaceans to the moon.

After slamming his fists onto the table, Ludius then pointed toward his economic advisors.

“This unilateral escalation will not go unanswered! Draft whatever trade measures we can enact in retaliation, and don’t even consider the possible–no, inevitable input from the other powers! I want to see your suggestions tomorrow morning!”

As Emperor Ludius dismissed them all, a sequence of events leading to the inevitable change in the regional status quo was unwittingly set in motion as the two countries, in the name of national pride, faced each other in a standoff.