Book 9: Chapter 1
It began long, long ago.
One driven man set out on a journey. His oppressed and enslaved people, stripped of their pride and cultural heritage, found no salvation in this life or the next. Cries for rescue went unheard, a master’s whip and scorn their only reward.
“You slaves have no god. Your only fate is to be mocked, persecuted, and consumed.”
Most of his brethren suffered this derision in silence. After all, no words could save them. Despite endless trials and tribulations, emancipation never arrived. It was enough to leave one wondering if the gods despised them.
He was different, however.
“Our divine savior is somewhere on this vast continent. They just haven’t heard us yet.”
That was his conviction.
“However long it takes, I’ll find a god to deliver the Flahm.”
With that, he departed on a holy quest. His name is long forgotten. Posterity only knows this traveler with the fiery red hair and bright crimson eyes as the “Founder.”
“—And that man was the father of the Flahm Kingdom.”
A young man sat by a roaring fireplace, a book in one hand. It was Wein Salema Arbalest, the crown prince of the Natra Kingdom. Together with the gentle snow outside the window, the hearth created a cozy atmosphere.
“Did he really…search for God?” asked the youthful girl with him by the fire. Her name was Falanya Elk Arbalest, and she was Wein’s younger sister and Natra’s crown princess.
The siblings were discussing the history of a particular civilization. The ancient Flahm people, to be exact.
“Yes, at least according to our records here in Natra. Of course, we’re talking about an event from centuries ago. It’s hard to know what someone was thinking back then.”
Still, we can’t discount written history, Wein implied wordlessly.
“So did the Founder succeed?” Falanya asked, but her brother continued without answering.
“The Founder chased every holy lead across the continent. Apparently, he even marched into forbidden sanctums and exposed the gods despite local protest. His actions made him the target of attacks by several different religious groups.”
“He must have been truly desperate.”
The Founder ignored his own peril in pursuit of God and left no stone, figurative or literal, unturned. All so he could bring meager peace to his suffering friends, comrades, and loved ones.
“However, his wish never came true.”
“What?” Falanya questioned, her eyes large.
“Ancient societies believed in far more numerous gods and spirits than those of the modern day. That spectrum ranged from nature worship in primitive animism to polytheistic systems ruled by a central deity. Among these, the Founder likely converted to the oldest religion—atheism.”
The Founder spent long years searching every corner of the continent and risking his own life—yet he never found a divine protector for the Flahm.
After demystifying the gods he’d yearned for, the forlorn Founder must have concluded the continent was home only to false idols.
“He didn’t find God…but built the Flahm Kingdom anyway?”
“That’s right. At first, the Founder was heartbroken, but he quickly hatched a diabolical plan: If God didn’t exist, he would invent one to suit the Flahm.” Wein paused to grin. “And thus, the continent’s first monotheism was born.”
Sirgis, former prime minister of the Delunio Kingdom and current vassal to Natra’s crown princess Falanya, entered the room and felt a slight wave of regret wash over him. He’d come looking for his master but found someone he’d give anything to avoid.
“Oh? May I help you, Sir Sirgis?”
Ninym Ralei, the one who posed the question, tilted her head. She was Crown Prince Wein’s aide and, as evidenced by her white hair and red eyes, a Flahm.
“…Might I ask where Princess Falanya is?” Sirgis asked, his expression sour.
“She’s in that room,” Ninym readily answered, pointing to a door nearby. “However, Her Highness and Prince Wein are in the middle of a discussion.”
“I see… In that case, I shall return later.”
Sirgis turned to leave, but Ninym called out behind him.
“It’s almost time for Prince Wein to return to his government affairs. Would you like to wait here for a while?”
It wasn’t an odd proposal, but Sirgis groaned quietly.
“…I had intended to show you courtesy.”
“There’s no need. After all, we both serve Natra’s royal family.”
“You feel no reservation toward me?”
“If anything, shouldn’t it be the other way around? After all, you are a devout follower of Levetia.”
“…”
The Teachings of Levetia was the biggest religion in the West. Its doctrine persecuted the Flahm, so Natra’s tolerance shocked Western visitors.
“…Yes, I used to accept the Teachings of Levetia blindly. However, that is all in the past,” Sirgis responded, pulling up a chair. “You’re right, Lady Ninym. As fellow vassals, we must be open with one another.”
Ninym smiled faintly as Sirgis looked away in irritation. He mulled over how to best answer this composed girl over a decade his junior.
“By the way, why aren’t you with Their Highnesses?” he blurted out.
It was a silly question, but Sirgis was curious all the same. Ninym accompanied Wein everywhere as his guard, so she’d typically be in the room with him instead of waiting outside the door. Why the sudden change?
“They’re discussing Flahm history,” explained the young woman. “Some topics would be difficult if I were present.”
“…Flahm history, you say?”
“I can go into detail if you’re interested.”
“I shall pass,” Sirgis replied curtly. Then he recalled something that had long weighed on his mind. “Well, this isn’t about the Flahm precisely, but there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask… Why does the Natran royal family hold your people in such esteem?”
Natra’s acceptance of the Flahm was odd by Western standards, but the long line of Flahm aides to the royal family was stranger still. Keeping traditions like those was unfathomable in the West, and even those in the East rarely limited their assistants to a single clan.
“In short, it began with a promise made a century ago.”
“A promise?”
“A group of persecuted Flahm led by a man named Ralei fled to Natra and demonstrated their knowledge and skills to the royal family in exchange for protection. The king was so moved that he made Ralei his aide.”
“What an open-minded ruler to keep the Flahm so close despite the cost.”
“I’ve heard that Natra saw fewer visitors after Levetia announced the Circulous Law. The traditional pilgrimage used Natra as a gateway across the continent, but new regulations stated that a circuit around the West was enough. In other words, appointing the Flahm was partly done for revenge.”
“I see. Yes, that sounds plausible,” Sirgis said with a faint, wry smile.
Still, a relationship built on such motives was doomed to fail.
“As you’ve noticed, the key part came afterward. Ralei dedicated his life to the king, who respected both Ralei and the Flahm. The two men shared a deep trust to their final days. The Flahm volunteered their skills to the royal family, and the royal family generously provided refuge.”
It was like a promise between children. Those involved were already on thin ice, so a multigenerational oath was mere fantasy. Everyone must have believed the alliance would crumble once its founders were gone—even the king and Ralei.
However, their vow lasted an entire century and became an established custom.
“Countless royals and Flahm have continued to honor this pact. It was no small feat, but we Flahm aides are now a natural part of Natran society.”
“…I suppose there’s an odd chapter in every nation’s history,” Sirgis remarked with a nod of understanding. “Are only the most talented Flahm chosen to serve the royal family?”
“For the most part, but there are some exceptions. Princess Falanya chose Nanaki personally. In my case—”
Just then, Wein’s head popped out from the room next door.
“Sorry ’bout the wait, Ninym. Oh, Sirgis. You’re here, too?”
Both Ninym and Sirgis bowed respectfully.
“Have you finished your discussion?” Ninym inquired.
“Yeah, but it took forever. Ah! Watch it!”
A melancholy Falanya suddenly appeared behind Wein. When the princess saw Ninym, she pushed past him and ran to squeeze the older girl.
“Wh-whatever is the matter, Princess Falanya?” Ninym asked, startled by her unexpected behavior.
Falanya lifted her head from Ninym’s shoulder. “…I don’t care what others did in the past.”
Sirgis didn’t grasp the meaning, but a kind smile spread across Ninym’s face.
“Your Highness, those words alone ease the hearts of all Flahm.”
Although different races, the pair appeared like sisters as Ninym accepted Falanya’s embrace and stroked her hair. Their shared history wove a tangible harmony between them.
“Did you need me, Sirgis?” Wein said, breaking Sirgis’s contemplation.
“No, I wish to confirm a few matters with Princess Falanya about an upcoming meeting.”
“Gotcha.” Wein nodded. “Give her a minute, though. She’s still processing her feelings.”
“Yes, understood.”
I’m sure there are shocking aspects of Flahm history, Sirgis thought. If one delved into the continent’s history, they would find several grisly truths. Falanya was a princess, but also a child. No one could blame her for being upset.
That’s right… She’s still a child.
Since Sirgis became Falanya’s vassal, he had come to understand that she was a capable royal. Her passion and ambition were evident, and she had an equal measure of intelligence. Falanya took advice yet refused to be spoon-fed.
Given a decade to mature, the frail, inexperienced princess would be an excellent politician.
However, there was one significant caveat.
Even the gifted Falanya was no match for her older brother, Wein. A survey of one hundred people would be unanimously in favor of the elder sibling.
This won’t be easy.
Sirgis would install Princess Falanya on Natra’s throne. That was his goal as an ex–prime minister (courtesy of Wein) and as Falanya’s vassal.
I can’t rush things. However, there’s no telling when the current king will abdicate to the prince. I’ll need both stealth and haste…
Did Wein realize there was a turncoat in his midst? Most certainly. He was a genius prince, after all. Still, the young royal said nothing. There was no telling if that was due to carelessness or because he had other plans. Sirgis felt uneasy, but his objective remained the same. He would use every opportunity to support Falanya.
“…Incidentally, I hear you’ll be traveling abroad soon, Prince.”
“Yeah, to the Ulbeth Alliance. Know anything about it?”
“I’ve visited the region on numerous occasions. It is a…peculiar nation.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Both Natra and Delunio have unique cultures and traditions, but the well-established Ulbeth Alliance is distinct to an abnormal degree,” Sirgis replied.
“Hmm…I’ve heard they’ve been around awhile. Culture and tradition, huh?”
Wein tried to conjure a mental picture of the unfamiliar country and groaned quietly.
Falanya, having regained her composure, called to him. “Wein, you’re going to Ulbeth on business, right?”
“Yeah. Natra’s trade with Patura took a major hit during the last Gathering of the Chosen, so I need to hurry and do damage control. I’m sure Ulbeth’s representative, the Holy Elite named Agata, won’t stop there, though. Negotiations should be interesting.”
Falanya sheepishly eyed the prince. “Please be careful, Wein. The previous Gathering of the Chosen looked safe at the beginning. Even if you expect a regular meeting, there’s no telling what might happen.”
The chaos from last autumn’s Gathering of the Chosen still cast a shadow over Falanya’s heart.
“No worries, Falanya. Stuff like that is one in a million,” Wein assured her with an amused grin. He ruffled his sister’s hair. “Still, I’ll need you to watch the homestead while I’m gone. Sirgis, help her out, okay?”
“You can count on me, Wein!”
“Yes. Leave everything to us.”
Falanya was bursting with enthusiasm, while Sirgis merely gave a formal bow. The genius prince smiled and nodded in satisfaction.
Several days later, a delegation led by Wein departed for the Ulbeth Alliance. Falanya, who saw them off, would later ask herself the following:
“I wonder if everything that happened in the Ulbeth Alliance that winter hinted at the future awaiting my brother and the others.”
In the future, this period came to be known as the “Great War of Kings.”