As the video came to an end, Sizilen looked up to Miles and Kia. It was comforting to see him without the strange transparent suit he’d been wearing the past thirteen days, to see him in the flesh. She had been confused by it at first, frightened, even. But in the days since she’d been captured, she had understood more and more of English, the language of the Canadians.

She understood that they wore such things, and only spoke with her through the mysterious glass-that-was-not-glass barriers between them, because they feared plague. Sizilen had read of the ravages of the Giturnian flea-plague and the effect the disease had on the Nakrean continent. Thankfully the disease had never reached Embrayya, but the Seat of Cayde had closed their borders and ceased any trade with the western continent after they had an outbreak in the capital. If not for the embargo against Nakrean goods and ships, they might have lost millions of lives.

The Canadians were merely taking precautions. They, too, knew the ravages of plague. Thankfully they had come to the conclusion that it was safe for them to interact, which was for the better. It seemed to relieve the men. Even Euston Dree, for all his anxiety when it came to Outworlders, seemed more at ease.

“This man,” Sizilen spoked in English, “is your King?”

“Not King. Prime Minister,” Miles replied.

“Ah. Prime Minister,” she replied. She’d heard the term before when she was learning about Outworld. Canada was merely one of hundreds of nations stretched across their world. The Prime Minister was one of the two highest stations in the land, and they acted on behalf of a Queen from another land, who did not interfere directly with Canadian affairs.

It was still quite confusing to her why a monarch would choose to do so, but there were many things that confused her even more. She could understand much of what the Prime Minister had said in the video where he was addressing the other nations of Earth, but there were other things she didn’t.

“Your Prime Minister says dee en ay. What is?” Casimir asked, breaking his silence.

“DNA,” Miles said. “It’s… well, it’s difficult to explain. Think of it like a message left in your blood that tells you who your parents are, and their parents before them. It allows us to look at your ancestry and identify your ancestors.”

Casimir cocked his head to one side. “How?”

Miles laughed. “Couldn’t tell you– but we know it’s there.”

Sizilen was more than a little disturbed by the thought that they could read her blood like a book and know where she came from. She tried to wrap her head around it. She, an orphan, did not know the names of her true parents. Would this DNA reveal that?

“He says about.. Med… Medit–” Casimir continued.

“Mediterranean,” Miles said. “It’s a sea in another part of the world.” He loaded up a map of the Earth on his tablet and zoomed it in on a region of their Eastern continent. “Tests are showing we have mutual ancestors from this area of the world. That means, like your stories about the Great Dragon are suggesting, our two worlds have crossed before.”

“Ah,” Casimir said. “You perhaps are… sons of ancient slaves taken by demons?”

Miles leaned back and seemed to consider the question. “I doubt it,” he said. “It’s more like that people from this area of the world crossed into Ayndir, and you’re all originally from here.”

Casimir laughed as if he’d been told a joke. “Can’t be that,” he said. “Humans come from Ayndir.” He folded his arms as if the assertion settled the argument.

Sizilen, however, wasn’t so sure. She’d learned of remnants of human activity on Earth going back hundreds of thousands of years. The history of Ayndir, on the other hand, was mostly forgotten. Obfuscated behind events and civilizations going back thousands of years at least. Ruins both recent and ancient surrounded their world, but the oldest of which she knew from her education in Embrayya were under dispute whether they had been made by human or demon hand.

It was something not talked about often, and even then only around trusted individuals. There were thoughts that the Dai’ani were more ancient that the demon races, but to even suggest it would be an affront to the human primacy that covered her world.

The demon races were a particular area of interest for the Canadians as well– from their written histories, they had descended into myth and legend instead of the ever-present reality of their existence in Ayndir. Even within the borders of Embrayya there were ferals. Goblins, trolls, ogres and small tribes of demi-humans and Dai’ani scattered throughout the wilds of the fifteen provinces. They were left alone as long as they weren’t near a human settlement or road.

“We’ll just have to find out,” Mles replied to Casimir.

The door behind Miles opened and Kia Singh came into the room. “He’s here,” she said.

“Your Prime Minister?” Sizilen asked.

Miles looked to her and nodded, then took a deep breath. “He’s going to have security with him,” he explained. “They’re focused entirely on his protection, so don’t make sudden movements, nothing that will make them nervous.”

Sizilen nodded in understanding, then looked to Casimir. After he gave her a nod, she looked back. “We will kneel,” she said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Miles said. “We don’t do that here.”

“But he is Prime Minister,” Casimir objected. “We do not want to be rude.”

With that, Kia opened the door and three men entered. She recognized the Prime Minister from the video as he entered and gave them a warm smile. He looked to Miles and extended a hand.

“Lieutenant Brady? I hear you’ve been doing good work here,” he said.

Miles nodded to the man. “Yes, sir. Thank you sir. Just doing my part.”

“Don’t be so cliche,” the Prime Minister responded. “This situation doesn’t have any precedent, it’s okay to be a little bit proud of it.” He looked down to Sizilen. “You must be Ms. Oringard, Mr. Keren?”

“Sizilen, Casimir, I’d like to introduce you to the Right Honorable Prime Minister, Jonathan Pike,” Miles said.

“Please, no need to be so formal. They’re still learning English. You can call me Mr. Pike, or Jonathan if you prefer.”

“We wish to show the Sir Prime Minister respect,” Sizilen said. “And our sincere sorry for what our people have done to yours.”

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The Prime Minister nodded. “Fair enough,” he said. “Then I wish to show you respect, Praya-Maja Sizilen.”

She looked up at him in surprise. His pronunciation was off, but he had addressed her as one of the men might in High Embrayyan. Wise Mother Sizilen.

“I am honored,” she replied.

“Sorry, that’s about all I know in your language. So I hope you don’t mind if we speak in English, but Lieutenant Brady here should be able to help translate anything we don’t understand.” He took a seat before them and looked up to Miles, who gave him a nod.

“Now that we’ve dispensed with formalities, there’s a lot we need to talk about, and not much time, so let’s cut to the chase.”

Sizilen cocked her head at the expression. She hadn’t heard it before. She looked to Miles, who explained it. He wished to speak of important matters immediately.

“Sizilen, when your people came across, they attacked, killed and captured one hundred and fifty-four people. We’ve managed to identify most of the dead, but some of the remains were far too burned to identify. Nonetheless, we understand that some of our people may still be alive on the other side of the Shimmer,” the Prime Minister said. “We are prepared to offer you and your men a full pardon for their part in the attack on our sovereign soil, but we cannot let the attack go entirely unpunished.”

After Miles translated, Sizilen felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest. A pardon?

“You mean,” Casimir said, “We may go home?”

The Prime Minister looked to Casimir. “Not right away,” he said. “And not if we don’t get our own people returned to us unharmed. But we’d like to negotiate a trade with your King. Our people for yours.”

Sizilen looked to Casimir. He gave her a grave look, then Sizilen sighed and spoke aloud. “I am not yet officiated as a Clan-Mother in Embrayya,” she explained. “Therefore my life has little worth to the King. Casimir has blood of Ciel Clan in him, but he is not directly a part of it. The men are merely soldiers. Our worth to Embrayya is not so great as to demand the King’s tributaries. It will be difficult.”

As Miles translated, she watched the Prime Minister’s expressions. He seemed to nod in understanding.

“Nonetheless,” he began. “That’s how we’d like to start this, and we would like to ask for your help in facilitating these negotiations. Are you willing to help?”

Sizilen nodded. “I am.”

“If you get your people back,” Casimir asked. “What then?”

“Well,” he said. “A lot of thought has been put to that. As I said before, the attack on our sovereign soil cannot go unpunished. Those people and their families would never accept that. But exchanging our people would be a good start. After which time, we can discuss the terms of reparations. If all goes well, then we might be able to open the channels for further diplomatic relations, trade and an exchange of technology.”

“Technology? I’m afraid we have nothing that matches yours.”

“But you do have something else we’d like to explore. This Elder Law of yours–”

“The Elder Law cannot be learned. Not on this world,” Sizilen asserted. “It does not exist here.”

“Well that’s just the thing,” he said. “We want to learn why, and we want to learn more about it. So we’d probably have to do that on your world.”

Sizilen looked to Casimir for a moment. He only nodded at her.

“Very well,” she said. “May I ask you a question, Jonathan Pike?”

“Please,” he replied.

“If our King refuses. If he intends to carry on with his misguided ambitions to annex your world, what then becomes of Embrayya?”

The Prime Minister sighed. “You’ve both seen what our forces are capable of,” he said. “Our allies are just as capable, if not more capable. If we have to cross over into Embrayya to get our people back, that’s something we’re prepared to do, even if we have to burn your capital to the ground and take your King.”

Sizilen nodded again. It was as she thought. “And us?” she asked. “What will become of us?”

“You’ll all be tried for your roles in the attack on Annacis Island. You’ll spend the rest of your lives in prison and you’ll never see Embrayya again.”

“I see,” Sizilen commented.

There wasn’t much of an option. She would have to do the bidding of these Canadians if she hoped to see her father again. Yet, she knew the King. He was a good man, a just man… but he was also blinded by his obsession of ensuring his name would be remembered long after he passed away. He needed to do so through strength. Capitulating to Outworld demands would make others perceive him as weak. But refusing to capitulate could doom Embrayya, and in the process make him a martyr.

It wouldn’t be easy. But Sizilen’s choice was clear. She would have to convince him, and any others in Embrayya that working with the Canadians was the better option.

“I will help you,” Sizilen said. “I do not wish to see further death.”

Jonathan Pike nodded. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He sighed. “Now for the bad news. Ms. Oringard, I’ve arranged for a conditional pardon for you.”

“A conditional pardon?” she asked.

He nodded. “We’d like for you to come out and see more of our world,” he explained. “We’d also like to offer you the opportunity to be the public face of Embrayya. For lack of a better term, an ambassador for your people.”

“I do not understand why this is unfortunate.”

“Because the offer extends only to you,” he explained. “Sorry, Mr. Keren. You’ll have to stay here.”

Casimir wore a look of offense. “But Sizilen is our hope,” he explained. “She–”

“Don’t get me wrong. She’ll be allowed to keep in touch with you and the other prisoners,” he explained. “We know her role with you and your men is important and we’re not going to cut her off from you. But we do need her as well.”

“Why?”

“Because the only image Embrayya has in Canada and the rest of the world is one of violence and death,” he explained. “It’s not just your people that need to see we mean you no harm, but our people need to know you wish them no harm. I’d like for Sizilen to be that face. To join us, at least for a little while, in our world. To learn more about us, and to provide us an opportunity to learn more about your people in the name of peaceful relations.”

“But–” Casimir began, but then Sizilen raised her hand toward him, silencing them.

“I will be allowed to speak with Casimir and the others?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“I will not be required to lie to them or keep secrets?”

“No. We’ll set you up with regular video conferencing,” he explained.

Sizilen looked over to Casimir. “I think this is in our best interests,” she explained in High Embrayyan.

“But how can we know you’ll truly be safe?”

“We’ve no reason to suspect they’ll lie. They’ve treated us kindly this far,” she said. “Besides, we are currently under their thumb entirely. But if we can foster peace with them, is it not worth the attempt?”

Casimir sighed. “I can’t argue with that,” he said.

“I swear to you and the others, Casimir,” she said. “I will do everything in my power to see all of us returned to Embrayya unharmed. I only ask that you and the others trust in me.”

Casimir said nothing for a moment, then nodded. “I will. And I will ensure the others do as well.”

“Good,” she said. “Ensure Dree does not go too far.”

Casimir laughed. “Might as well ask the tide not to come in.”

She looked back to the Prime Minister. “I accept your terms.”

“Excellent,” he said. “A detail will be provided for you. Lieutenant Brady here has been asked to be a part of that detail. You’ll spend the night here while we make arrangements. Tomorrow night I’d like to invite you to come dine with my wife and I,” he explained. “You’ll need some– err– new clothes. I don’t think the jump suit matches up with restaurant attire. We’ll provide you and your detail with an expense account and get you sorted.” He stood up and smoothed out his suit. “I have other matters to attend to tonight, but it was a pleasure meeting the both of you.”