Chapter 1 - Hey, How About Another International Conferences?
Located on the northernmost tip of the Varno, the Kingdom of Natra was known for being a nation of immigrants. Snuggled on the border between East and West, its land didn’t draw much attention to itself—except that it had terrible weather—but it quickly became a home for those without a place to stay, letting them quietly exist together…
A ray of fortune might be shining down on them now—largely because of Crown Prince Wein—but this didn’t change the fact that most of the citizens were originally from elsewhere.
Of these various peoples, the Flahm were the most known, with their characteristic red eyes and white hair. Due to their appearance and history as a people, they were discriminated against in Western countries; even a supposed meritocracy like the Eastern Empire saw them as a cursed race.
That wasn’t the case in Natra, however. About a hundred years earlier, Ralei, the leader of some nomadic Flahm, offered all his knowledge and skill to the King of Natra in exchange for the safety of his people. The king was eager to make this deal, but of course, he faced some backlash in the early days. After all, the will of a ruler wasn’t always a reflection of the will of the people.
Nonetheless, neither the king nor the Flahm bent to the public, and they eventually achieved harmony with the entire population.
A century later, the Flahm lived in Natra as part of its social fabric. This was a hard-won victory, a great feat that started with Ralei and bore fruit through the efforts of many Flahm.
That was exactly why they could never afford to forget…that there was incalculable worth hidden in the seemingly mundane—
“It’s our time!”
The scene opens in a room of a certain manor. Beyond the window, the night was chilly, the sky twinkling faintly with stars. It was autumn, winter nearing. Unlike the weather outside, however, the room inside was hot as the excitement of its occupants hung heavily in the air.
“Natra has grown at explosive rates under the leadership of the Prince. That said, we lack the manpower to support a growing nation, which means we’re experiencing shortages in every area. This is the perfect chance for us—the Flahm—to step up!”
Any outsiders would be shocked if they got a glimpse of this scene. After all, every attendee—from young men to elderly women—had flaming red eyes and white hair. This was a gathering of citizens who represented the Flahm in Natra.
“After a hundred years of living in obscurity, our time is finally here! We must work hard to improve our conditions in Natra and restore the pride of our people!” proclaimed the young man. His speech carried the same youthful energy his looks suggested.
It wasn’t just his peers who were listening intently to him.
“Yeah, if we can get our own people to patch over those openings, the Flahm will be more influential in Natra.”
“But we stand out just by existing. Non-Flahm will try to knock us down a few pegs if we make our motives too obvious.”
“Then we just gotta gain enough power to make them swallow their words. I bet we could do that now.”
“Right. With His Highness leading the nation, the value of Natra is on the rise. More people are applying for government jobs by the day. Any available positions will fill up in no time. We can’t just sit around twiddling our thumbs.”
The majority sided with the young man.
As the territory under Natra expanded, more people would be coming in from abroad. The problem was that most of them hated the Flahm. If the new settlers numbered in the single digits, they would have to obey Natra’s customs and assimilate. But if it was several dozen…or several hundred people? And if they were appointed to government positions? What would happen then?
In the best case, they would keep their distance from the Flahm. It was more likely, however, that they would consider the Flahm—a race persecuted elsewhere—as an obstacle to overcome and attempt to get rid of them.
That was why the Flahm had to secure their own positions as Natra continued to grow. Everyone was more or less in agreement there.
There were, however, shadows who regarded them with cold eyes.
“—What do the two of you think?”
Called to join in on the conversation was a man of middle years and a young girl. His name was Levan. Hers, Ninym.
They were also Flahm, but the room treated them with noticeable deference. Levan was their leader and served as the aide of King Owen of Natra. Ninym currently served as Prince Wein’s aid but would one day inherit Levan’s position. In other words, one could say they were the two most influential Flahm in Natra.
“…I will not disagree that this is an opportunity,” Levan stated. Everyone in the room turned to him. “However, we must not forget that the Flahm filled many empty positions after the insurrection and subsequent purge. People—a number that’s not unsubstantial—were displeased by this decision. If we wish to expand further, we must do it with extreme care.”
Levan’s tone was solemn and calm. Under normal circumstances, he could cool everyone’s heads to some extent, but—
“Master Levan, don’t you think you are taking this matter a little too passively for someone of your standing?”
“I must agree. Many of the high-ranking positions granted to us after the purge are technically temporary. They can be stripped away at any time and for any reason.”
“In fact, we would like for you to bring this matter to His Majesty’s and His Highness’s attention—to make our temporary positions official appointments.”
Even Levan couldn’t deescalate the fervor in the room. He groaned, and Ninym spoke up next to him.
“…There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding.” Ninym’s voice was much more youthful than Levan’s but equally frigid. “As aides to the royal family, Master Levan and I are in high-ranking positions. Our duty, however, is to support them and help guide the nation…not favor our own people.”
Next to her, Levan looked visibly troubled, and the crowd began to stir.
“Lady Ninym! You can’t be serious!”
“The future of the Flahm rests on your shoulders!”
“If you—the person closest to the prince—adopt that attitude, it’ll set a poor example for everyone else!”
The representatives were in an uproar. Ninym answered them with an icy glare. Only Levan noticed her fist clenching tightly underneath the desk. This continued for some time until the dissenters eventually began to run out of steam.
“…Even after all that’s been said—” called out a husky voice.
Everyone turned their attention toward an elderly woman who had been listening in silence until now. Although her age disqualified her from the front lines, her opinion held more weight than anyone else’s present.
“Point me to our qualified individuals who can fill these important government positions.” She glanced at those around her. Despite her years, the glint in her eyes held such power that it made them instinctively gulp. “I’m sure you’ve all realized that our most useful members are already employed in some way or another. If we squeeze incompetent persons into these positions, we will be taken advantage of by those who already hate us.”
“Y-yes, Elder. That’s true, but…”
“We might be able to find more people if we look closely among us. If all else fails, we can train any promising youth.”
“And do you know any prospects?”
“……”
All the participants fell into an awkward silence. Levan didn’t let this moment pass him by.
“Let’s search for potential candidates before our next meeting. After all, we’ll get nowhere without cards to play… Let’s call it for today.”
Levan’s statement concluded the assembly.
“…Well,” Levan said with a grievous sigh after everyone had left the meeting room, “that went just about as I expected, but it still places us in a tough position…”
He crossed his arms in thought when he heard a loud bam!
Levan turned to find that Ninym was still in the room, and he watched her kick a chair nearby. She gave it another good kick and sent it flying.
“…Be graceful, Ninym.”
Ignoring him, Ninym remained silent, indignation on her face. Levan let out another sigh. It was a difficult situation indeed.
“Are you that displeased by their opinion?”
“I am.” Her words were clipped, her disapproval clear.
“…We may have found peace in Natra, but we will never shake the feeling that danger is around the corner as long as we continue to hear how Flahm are treated in other nations. I can understand why they want to be one step ahead,” Levan reasoned. “No one is saying we should resort to force. We’ll curry favor with people of influence as we’ve always done, fill important economic and political roles, gain power to protect our brethren, and—”
“Form an independent kingdom of Flahm if the opportunity arises?” Ninym asked, her words piercing like a spear. “The whole notion is ridiculous. We’ve lost our god and country and learned nothing from it.”
“Ninym.”
“I’m not naive enough to tell you to trust that others are acting with only good intentions. I know some people wish to expel us, and we must constantly prove our worth in Natra to thwart them. That said,” Ninym spat, “don’t tell me you didn’t notice that their underlying motive is to use Natra in its time of crisis to create a nation of Flahm.”
“……” Levan grimly closed his eyes. He didn’t refute her. He was also aware there were some Flahm at the meeting who wanted this.
“It’s an impossible dream, Ninym. Only a handful of people believe it’s possible. The majority think it’s nothing more than a fleeting idea that it would be nice.”
“So we’re ready to throw away peace—which might I remind you took us a hundred years to achieve—just for this short-lived consolation prize? Independence has a pleasant ring to those dissatisfied with the status quo. But what happens next? Will we announce to the rest of the continent that we’re different from the others, satisfy our tiny egos, and enjoy our newfound glory? Oh, please. How can a race of people with no army, no funds, and no power go against an entire continent and hold their own nation together?” Ninym barked. “We can keep dreaming, but you know we’ll be trampled by the other countries and races. Natra won’t be so tolerant anymore and might choose to throw stones at us. They’ll curse the Ashheads to go back to our own country—and we’ll be the punch line. What kind of cruel joke is that?”
Ninym glowered at Levan and continued.
“We look unique. Other people think we appear unnatural. For them to accept us in their hearts, we must continue to be good neighbors… You were the one who taught me that, Master Levan.”
“…You’re right. I did,” Levan answered with a vexed sigh.
Ninym was right. Impeccably so. He knew it, and he knew that was why Ninym, who could usually brush off such comments, was up in arms.
“But, Ninym, you should at least try and keep up appearances in front of everyone for now. You heard what they said at the meeting, didn’t you? You’re our future. For that reason alone, you—”
“The one I serve,” Ninym began, rage blazing in her eyes, “is neither our people nor their dreams. It is the crown prince of Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest, and none other.”
She got to her feet.
“Ninym,” Levan called as she turned her back on him, but she never broke stride, eventually disappearing behind the door.
“…What am I supposed to do?” Levan stared up at the ceiling, sinking into his chair, all alone in the room.
He felt a sudden presence by the doorway. He instinctively turned toward it and noticed a small human shadow.
—It was the old woman who had admonished everyone earlier in the meeting.
“You haven’t returned home yet, Elder?”
“I took a short break. You can’t fight against old age, you see…though I’d say you’re more tired than me.”
Levan shrugged. “I wish we could switch places.”
“No, no, we can ask for no greater leader. I could never hope to fill your shoes.”
“Tell me what you really think.”
“I’m filled with joy, seeing a cheeky, snot-nosed brat becoming our leader and suffering because of it. I can’t die yet. It’s just begun.”
“…Damn hag.”
“Out of that mouth comes evil,” rasped the old woman with a smile as she crossed the room to approach the window. “So how are things looking, Levan? Will we be able to pick up the pace?”
“It won’t be easy. Despite what I told everyone, there don’t seem to be any good candidates left. Unfortunately, Natra has expanded too fast.”
“Will our dreams of independence go unfulfilled?”
“Yes—without a definitive plan for funds, material resources, or manpower. It won’t take long until we all wake up and realize it was nothing more than a passing dream.”
“Oh, how I hope that’s how it ends.”
The old woman continued to look out the window, and her eyes observed Ninym as the girl exited the building.
“…Levan, I assume you haven’t told young ones about that, right?”
“Yes, I’m keeping that private. I considered mentioning it near the end of my tenure…but that was before. As they are now, it would only incite violence.”
“Yes…” The old woman had on a mild expression. “…They can’t know yet. They can’t know that Ralei wanted something other than seeing the Flahm flourish. They can’t know what Ralei and that group risked their lives to protect.”
As she murmured to herself, the old woman gazed at the girl young enough to be her grandchild with an expression both affectionate and full of respect.
Falanya’s tutor, Claudius, entered the library archive to find an unexpected guest.
“Your Highness, what are you doing here?”
“Hmm? …Oh, Claudius.”
Silhouetted against the orderly bookshelves and faint rays of light filtering through the window was a young man with a book in hand. The crown prince of Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest.
“Isn’t there only one reason why anyone ever comes in here?” Wein asked with a small smile, balancing his book in his hand.
So he had come to the library to read. It was obvious now that he mentioned it. That said, it was strange for someone in Wein’s position.
“I’m certain an official would have delivered the desired book to your office if you had asked.”
“Don’t say that. Going to the library to find your own book comes with its own pleasures.”
“…I see. I can understand that.”
In Claudius’s younger days, his heart used to dance whenever he headed to the library of the city he once called home.
“Anyway, Claudius, you’re here for a book, too, right?”
“Yes. I am searching for a book to use during my lessons with Princess Falanya.”
“Oh yeah? I heard that Falanya has been hitting the books lately. What’re you studying now?”
“The history of the Western continent,” Claudius replied. Now was as good a time as any for him to have this discussion with Wein. “…We’ll also be touching on the nation of Flahm in the near future.”
“Oh, that…” Wein gave an uneasy groan.
There once was the proud and prosperous kingdom of the Flahm in the West. Not many in this town, however, knew about its rise and fall. Remaining records had been kept by the royal families of Western nations or by the Flahm themselves. The most detailed accounts belonged to the former and the royal family of Natra, to whom the Flahm had entrusted their records.
“What do you advise? According to tradition, these events should be taught by a royal family member of the same bloodline.”
Wein mulled this over for a few seconds. “…This should be my father’s role, but I’ll do it.”
“In that case, I shall inform you when the time comes,” Claudius replied with a reverent bow.
The tutor continued to speak with Wein about inconsequential matters as he gathered the necessary materials for Falanya’s lessons. Most other government officials would not dare to engage in casual conversation with the prince; they would prostate themselves before him—as he was now steering Natra. Claudius, on the other hand, knew Wein enjoyed this kind of thing with his vassals.
Not just the prince, but the entire family does.
Internal unity was paramount for a small country like Natra. After all, they’d be blown away in an instant if they failed to unite when a foreign threat came calling. This was why each generation of the royal family loved to meet as many people as possible. They knew that direct communication and mutual understanding were the best way to build that bond.
They can appraise the type of person they’re dealing with and charm them with their personality… I suppose it would be offensive to compare them to swindlers.
Well, Wein would have laughed at this and taken it in stride. Barring a few exceptions and as long as you were acting with some level of courtesy, the young prince would forgive just about anything with a smile.
And that courtesy is only for the benefit of everyone else. His Highness couldn’t care less about his own position and authority. Even among the royal family, that’s an exception.
Claudius used to be Wein’s childhood tutor, and the boy had been outstanding even then. He was obviously brilliant, and his thought processes, value systems, and perceptiveness were peculiar, too. Wein had left Claudius shaken more than once or twice.
…Even with that incident with Sirgis. I wonder what His Highness was thinking when he accepted Princess Falanya’s vassal.
Sirgis was the former prime minister of Delunio. Wein’s schemes caused him to fall from power and be chased from his homeland. Several days prior, he arrived in Natra by Princess Falanya’s own invitation. Soon after their meeting, Sirgis became her vassal.
This development had sent the Imperial court in a spiral. Everyone was aware that Princess Falanya had been devoting herself to her studies so she could help her brother. Her only attendants before this had been several handmaidens and Nanaki, a Flahm. That was what spurred her to secretly choose someone to aide her in political matters… In any event, the sudden appearance of a foreign ex–prime minister was bound to create chaos.
Claudius had been just as shocked. He was the one who told Falanya about the location of the retired prime minister, but even he never could have imagined she’d convince him to serve under her. He was impressed to discover that royal blood was as strong in her as it was in Wein.
That said, Claudius couldn’t just do nothing in his state of astonishment. Even if Falanya wasn’t yet at Wein’s level, she was steadily passing milestones on her own. And she had appointed someone with a personal vendetta against Wein. Several vassals were already starting to worry about her growing circle—which would undoubtedly lead to a faction war.
Based on the way they saw it, the sooner Wein criticized Sirgis’s appointment, the better. It was well known that the siblings were close, so they had assumed Falanya would have no choice but to comply if her brother tried to stop her.
But Prince Wein hasn’t attempted to stop her. Some believe this is because their relationship is so strong that he can’t bring himself to scold his little sister, but…
Was the prince so soft that his love for his sister would prevent him from going against her? Wasn’t he a prince as cold as ice, despite his gentle disposition?
That was why Claudius knew Wein was confident that he could manage the growth of Falanya’s faction and Sirgis’s crafty schemes. And Claudius would bet that Wein’s true intentions would be indecipherable to the common man.
“………”
The window suddenly went dark. Wein’s features were obscured in shadow. It was like looking into the abyss.
“What’s wrong, Claudius?”
“…Nothing. Please pardon me. It seems I’m tired.” Claudius shook his head. It was over in an instant. In the blink of an eye, Wein’s expression was gentle once again.
“Falanya and I will be heading out as foreign ambassadors pretty soon. Take care of yourself so she doesn’t have to worry about you.”
“Of course… Will you both be attending the Gathering of the Chosen?”
“I’ll be at the Gathering, but Falanya is going to a meeting with some major leaders that’ll be happening at the same time.”
The Gathering of the Chosen. A conference hosted by Levetia, the religion that dominated the Western continent. Leaders known as the “Holy Elite” came together to discuss various matters concerning the religion. It was customarily held each spring, but owing to some scheduling difficulties, it had been postponed to the end of fall.
“I didn’t have the opportunity to talk to all the Holy Elites when I attended the last time, so this is my chance. I’ve talked about strategy with the vassals, and I have to admit it’s tempting to foster relations with the West.”
Claudius nodded in agreement. For the past several years, Natra had been progressing at accelerated speeds, and being sandwiched between the Eastern Empire and all the nations to the west meant they couldn’t sever ties with either side—at least not yet.
“At any rate, do try to avoid the same kind of trouble you encountered last time.”
“Gah.” Wein looked a little ashamed, acting his age for once.
The neighboring nation of Cavarin had invited him to the last Gathering, and after a series of twists and turns, Wein ended up fleeing their capital and going against their army. He’d had his reasons, but there was no question his actions had been less than exemplary.
“D-don’t worry about it. It’ll be smooth sailing,” Wein said with a forced smile.
“I would like to believe so. However, the truth is that we’ve hardly had a moment’s peace since you became regent, Your Highness.”
“………”
Claudius was right; trouble seemed to always be just around the corner. Wein paused for a while before speaking with newfound resolve.
“If it looks like this trip takes a wrong turn, I’ll run to the church and pray.”
“…Right.”
In the third autumn since Prince Wein of Natra had been appointed regent, he set off with Princess Falanya to attend the Gathering of the Chosen for the second time. Some historical records claim the prince stopped by a church on his way back and doused himself in holy water, but the veracity of this remains unclear.
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