In a Civilized Manner

MAGE FACTION. ZACRIYA KINGDOM.

People weaved around each other in the busied faction hall, filling the vast space with a trample of hastened footsteps.

The Crown Prince’s office, which was situated at the very end of the hallway and had both of its doors wide open, had been newly built just days ago. The decision was made to expedite the reporting process and save people from the extra trouble of going all the way to the royal palace.

Dolan Zacriya, usually the picture of calmness and control, was now buried under a mountain of work, his usually collected demeanour replaced by signs of strain. His fiery hair was tied up into a low ponytail, a few loose strands dangling down from his forehead.

A frown was on his face, almost semi-permanent at this point.

He couldn't help it. The factions were a mess, with reports and requests flying in from all directions, and it seemed that every hour brought new complications.

In light of the recent investigation on the infiltrator of the faction’s data system, he had requested Saire Harkness, the formidable archmage of the Harkness family and his mentor, to perform foresight to assess the ongoing crisis. Although her Touch was often vague in its evaluation of events, they needed every hint they could possibly get their hands on.

Little did he expect the results to bring out a whole other catastrophe.

What Saire Harkness saw was a vision of war, one that threatened to engulf the entire kingdom.

The council had decided to keep this premonition a secret to avoid inciting further panic among the populace, but with each passing day, it seemed that reality was drawing closer to her prediction.

Dolan, sitting at the head of a cluttered table, glanced up from a stack of reports as Magnus Vyris entered the room.

He felt apologetic for dragging the archmage back here when he’d just escaped a life-and-death situation. In normal circumstances, he would have given his friend at least a week to recover before coming in for reports.

However, the situation at hand wasn’t one that could be postponed.

"Any progress on the infiltrator?" Dolan asked, cutting to the chase.

The main reason why he’d dragged Magnus back with such urgency was due to the system infiltration.

Magnus’s Touch, the unique ability called “passage,” gifted him with an advantage over anything related to paths. This included tracking the trails left behind by those who had passed through places or systems. It was an ability perfectly suited for tracking down the intruders.

"Nest covered their tracks well, but not well enough," the archmage replied, professionalism painting over his usual playful personality. "I’ve left a tag on their primary machine; the moment the infiltrator uses their mana to activate the system again, I’ll get hold of their location immediately."

Before Dolan could respond, his office door sounded with a knock. The next moment, Quine Poet strode into the room, carrying a new stack of reports in her hand.

"The situation in Adalan is escalating, Your Highness.” She didn’t waste any time, diving straight into the update. “Cases of people being pulled into what they call ‘Labyrinths’ have increased drastically over the past days, in an abnormal manner. This led to the capital announcing a state of emergency this morning and encouraging all its citizens to evacuate.

"Their royal advisor, Trim Colborn, has requested support from our Mage Faction to assist with closing off the capital and sealing its mana flow."

Dolan blinked at the unexpected news.

The kingdoms of Zacriya and Adalan had always maintained a cordial but distant relationship, their interactions largely limited to trade. Adalan making such a request suggested that the situation was far direr than anyone had realised.

"They wouldn’t ask for help unless they were really pushed into a dead end," Dolan muttered, rubbing his temples as he processed the information. "What else?"

Quine continued, her expression stern. "In addition to their request to our end, it appears they had also reached out to the Wendimore Kingdom.”

“Even them?”

While the Wendimore Kingdom possessed some potent Awakeneds, particularly elementalists, who could be invaluable in this crisis, they were a kingdom even farther from Adalan than Dolan themselves, separated by the Midpont Ocean. And unlike the Zacriya Kingdom, Wendimore and Adalan didn’t possess the most amiable relationship, especially after the latter’s over-hunting of gigapelts, a species said to have originated from Wendimore.

“Leaders of Wendimore tend to prefer national seclusion unless absolutely necessary,” Quine said conclusively. “ It is highly unlikely they’ll respond favourably to the request."

Dolan sighed heavily. "Makes sense, but there’s nothing to lose on their end to still try."

The woman hesitated for a moment, then asked the question that had been hanging in the air since she entered the room.

"Your Highness, will we help them?"

"Mia and I were in Adalan just a few days ago, and we didn’t sense any major abnormalities,” said Magnus, who had been listening quietly until now. “Whatever is happening now must be a recent development, something that’s escalating very quickly."

Dolan leaned back in his chair, his mind racing through the implications of the situation.

On the one hand, the Zacriya Kingdom had its own issues to deal with—the infiltrations, the compromised systems, and the looming threat of war. On the other, Adalan’s request for help was unprecedented and hinted at a crisis that could spill over into their own borders if left unchecked.

He briefly considered the possibility of the Adalan Kingdom being the target of war mentioned in the foresight, but given the two kingdom’s peaceful history, he couldn’t imagine what would have to incur for them to suddenly stand on opposite sides.

The decision weighed heavily on him, but ultimately, it wasn’t his alone to make.

“I will present the matter to His Majesty.”

***

ROYAL PALACE. ZACRIYA KINGDOM.

Dolan Zacriya walked through the vast, dimly lit banquet hall of the Royal Palace, his footsteps echoing faintly off the marble floor. Light filtered through the mosaic windows, casting a spectral array of colours upon the walls adorned with portraits of the kingdom’s previous rulers.

At the far end of the hall stood King Drolis Zacriya, his gaze fixed intently on the portrait in front of him. As Dolan got closer, he made out the protagonist of the portrait to be Toren Zacriya, the founder of their kingdom.

"Your Majesty," he began, breaking the stillness, "I’ve just received updates on the situation at hand."

He then went on to present a concise overview of the circumstances at hand, including the Labyrinth pulls in Adalan’s capital as well as the kingdom’s request for outer kingdom support. For the entirety of his report, the king listened in silence, without turning, his eyes still locked on the painted visage of their ancestor.

"I’m aware," Drolis said briefly.

He was more composed about the entire situation than Dolan had expected.

Dolan hesitated for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. "Your Majesty, should we lend them our aid?"

Despite various deliberations, the final call rested with the King of Zacriya, who would need to weigh the risks and benefits of intervening in a neighbouring kingdom’s crisis.

Finally, Drolis shifted his gaze from the portrait and turned to his son. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm and clear. "Dolan, what do you want to do?"

The king had not addressed him by his title of Crown Prince but by his name. The question wasn’t just a matter of duty; it was personal, asking what he wanted to do, not just as the future heir, but as Dolan Zacriya.

The King's question caught him off guard. Dolan paused, letting stillness fill the space between them as he contemplated the question. Thousands of considerations ran through his mind: the political ramifications, the strain on their resources, the potential effects on Zacriya’s own citizens…

Of all the concerns, he was reminded of a promise he’d made to a certain dark-haired traveller.

The image of Edris flashed through his mind, and with it, the promise of peace.

The king’s voice broke through his reverie. "Do you want to help them?"

“…"

"I do,” Dolan finally replied.

But even as he said it, he knew that providing aid would be more complicated than it appeared.

To open the Signa Gates for inter-kingdom travel, particularly in such a short timeframe, required extensive coordination with the Mage Factions, something that typically took weeks of planning. Magnus Vyris would have been an ideal candidate to assist in teleportation, but with the archmage preoccupied with tracking down the Nest infiltrators and still recovering from his recent injuries, asking for his help would be out of the question.

Just then, Dolan felt a vibration from the infuser orb at his waist. He glanced down and saw a familiar purple light radiate from the device—it was the colour he’d assigned to Edris. His gaze lingered on the infuser orb for a second before steering back to his father, who met his gaze with his own.

"If it’s from the traveller,” Drolis said, as if reading his mind. "You should probably take that."

Dolan inclined his head and stepped away to answer the call. Before he completely exited the hall, Drolis Zacriya’s voice echoed behind him.

“Dolan—I’ll leave the situation to you.”

In other words, the king had given him full control over how he wanted to tackle the issue. Dolan stiffened upon hearing the decree. By the time he turned back, his father had already left the hall from the other side.

Shaking the uncertainty from his head, he activated the infuser orb with his mana channel, and the image of Edris flickered into view.

The man's dark hair was blown by the wind as he stood amidst a scene of chaos. A scratchy sound of static noise burst from the screen, comprising a mixture of yelling, footsteps, and bellowing gusts. Dolan reflexively drew back, enabling the vocal focus option on the infuser orb.

"Good to see you again, Your Highness," Edris greeted him with a calm smile. It was their first direct conversation since the traveller had left for Adalan, and the unexpected circumstances made it all the more surreal.

Dolan couldn’t help but enter a frown. The stark contrast between Edris’s composed demeanour and the mess of a background formed a strange juxtaposition that only added to his unease.

"I know you must be very busy, so I’ll cut to the chase," Edris said, his voice slightly muffled by the background noise. "In around five minutes, some Adalarians will appear in the Nolmes Forest, accompanied by Commander Evans Moon and Adalan’s Royal Advisor, Trim Colborn.

“Please get ready to follow up with them.”

It wasn’t a request, but a notice.

For a moment, Dolan was too stunned to respond. The magnitude of the situation, coupled with the audacity of the traveller’s “notice,” had left him speechless. But then, despite the gravity of the situation, he let out a short laugh, more out of incredulity than amusement.

"How many?" He asked.

"About a thousand," Edris replied smoothly.

"You’re sending over a thousand refugees here with only five minutes' notice?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Dolan almost laughed again, the absurdity of it all washing over him. If it’d been any other person in power, they might have been outraged at the disrespect and sheer boldness of the traveller’s actions.

However, Dolan wasn’t just anyone, and Edris wasn’t just any traveller.

Though untimely, the Crown Prince found a smile making its way to his face.

"What would you have done if I had refused?"

Edris matched his smile with one of his own. "I figured you wouldn’t."

"I didn’t expect you to involve yourself in this situation.” Dolan raised his eyebrow. “Is this also part of your goal as a ‘seeker of peace’?"

Edris only responded with a shrug. "Assume what you want."

"…I’ll send poet and the Expedition Army as reinforcement immediately."

The traveller gave a short nod, about to close the call, but Dolan stopped him with a final question.

"But what is your plan?” He asked.

With everything going on, Dolan couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was about to do something reckless again.

On the other side of the call, Edris paused, a look of mild confusion crossing his face as he took in the Crown Prince’s question.

"Me? Evacuate, of course."

Honestly, if it weren’t for the dream Edris had the night before, he would have had Ace get him out of here long ago.

“I will be joining the teleportation circle once everyone else has evacuated.”

From his own debrief package that he’d received from Owein, the Labyrinth was an extraordinarily erratic and dangerous place. Edris may have survived it once, but who knew what could happen if he ended up in there a second time?

For a moment, the Crown Prince only stared at him in complication. Edris had a feeling that Dolan Zacriya wasn’t convinced by his response, but that was none of his business.

Eventually, Dolan relaxed his shoulders and heaved out a sigh.

“Edris.” His eyes peered into the screen. “I hope to see you soon in Nolmes.”

"See you soon, Your Highness," Edris replied with a smile.

The video call ended, and he turned around, expression hardening as he addressed the group around him.

"Is everything in place?"

It was time to set the plan into action.