The more Galizur talked, the more Hazelmere’s enthusiasm was replaced with disappointment.
“So … that is how it is,” She said dejectedly.
“That is how it is.”
“We are on our own.”
“That is right.”
Wyvernshield’s reaction was the exact opposite though. Slapping his knee with his hand, he started laughing loudly, in his deep voice.
“That’s perfect! That means everythin’ belongs to us!”
“What belongs to you, dwarf?” Galizur asked in a stern voice.
“The trade rights, of course! If the other nations have no intention of comin’ here, that means we’ll be the only ones to trade with the other side!”
“Goods?” The angel looked at Hazelmere questioningly.
“Ah, yes! We have developed friendly relations with the demons. Of course, we don’t believe anything they say, but that isn’t stopping us from trading with them.”
“What do you trade?”
“Anything that comes to mind, really. From the simplest of baubles to complex furniture, tools, and weapons.”
“I have noticed strange chairs and vertical tables.”
“Those chairs are amazing!” Hazelmere’s eyes beamed all of a sudden, “They are so comfortable, you could spend a whole day in them without getting your back sore! We have recently received a brand new batch, so even the people on the ground floor can enjoy them now!”
“And they can change their size easily, making them useful for both short and tall folk,” Wyvernshield added.
“What have you given to the demons in return?”
“A chairs of our own!” Hazelmere said it as if it should’ve been obvious, “We send something to them, and they send us their equivalent back.”
“And their equivalent is always far superior,” Wyvernshield commented.
“If it is superior then, what do they get in return?” Galizur asked.
“Uhh …”
Everyone in the room started looking at each other uncertainly, and a lot of head-scratching was involved.
“Do you honestly think the demons would do anything if it wouldn’t benefit them somehow?” Galizur pushed his point further, “Do you think they would do anything for your benefit alone?”
“Yes, but … it is not like they are asking for anything,” Hazelmere said weakly.
“That is how it always starts!”
“The feather-boy doesn’t understand how the economy works!” Wyvernshield said, pointing his outstretched hand towards Galizur, “His folk got nothing to trade up there in the heavens but the clouds! So, let me teach you something, friend! A product’s worth isn’t decided by a thing’s usability alone, ’tis much more complicated than that! For example, one of the things affecting the price is rarity! Even the useless things have worth if they’re rare! Take diamonds, for example! You can’t do anything with them and yet, they’re one of the most expensive things in the world! Or gold! You can’t do anything with the gold! You can use it for decoration at best, and even then it’s used for decoration only because it’s rare! Now, what do you think, how rare the goods from an alien world are? Would you think they’re even rarer than gold?”
“Do you honestly expect me to …”
“That’s why the people trade in the first place, you dimwit! If the things were as you say, one side would always get the shitty end of the stick! And if that’s the case, why would the losing side trade in the first place! Your feathery mind fails to understand that, in trade, no one is losing! People trade the things they have in abundance for the things they don’t have or are lackin’! And, thanks to the wisdom of your gods, different regions have different resources available! That’s why the thing that is cheap as dirt in one part of the world is a luxurious commodity in the other!”
“That is … I … I have never considered that …” Hazelmere was visibly stunned.
But Galizur was not: “That makes sense, until you realize you are trading chairs for chairs, tables for tables. It is just that theirs are of superior quality, as you have said yourself. Or did I get it wrong?”
As soon as he has finished that sentence, his expression changed slightly.
“Or … first of all, I would like to confirm something. You have sent them chairs, and they gave you their own chairs in return, right?”
“Yes, but that’s not only the case with the chairs. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with the nailed chairs, but the same applies to any other thing we’ve traded,” Wyvernshield responded.
“Ok, so … what is with those vertical tables over there?” Galizur pointed at the two strange tables, “What good are the vertical tables for? You clearly can’t put anything on them, so … are you also taking some of their useless things? Could it be that the demons aren’t the only ones taking useless things?”
“No, no, no,” Hazelmere waved her hand in dismissal, with a big smile, “those aren’t tables, although I can see why you would confuse them. Those are writing boards.”
“You mean, notification boards?”You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Uhh … yes, it can be used like that too, but you can do much more with this one. Let me show you.”
Hazelmere approached the white table and took some small, tube-like object that was sitting on its bottom. She uncorked one side of it with a pop, revealing a small, colored, pointy tip.
“You see, you can write on it like this,” she said as she scribbled some random words, “and, once you no longer need this written, you just erase it like this.”
She grabbed a handle on the table itself, detaching it with ease. Then, she started moving the handle all over it, with the written words disappearing without a trace as the handle crossed over them.
“I thought the purpose of that handle was to hold the table,” Galizur commented.
To which Hazelmere responded with an innocent smile: “Why would a table need to be held in the first place?”
“I don’t know, I have never seen a vertical table before.”
“Well, it is not a table. It is a board. And the handle is used to hold this thing,” she said, detaching the handle once again and pointing it at Galizur, revealing the even, black surface hiding below, “you could move this eraser without the handle, but it is much easier with it.”
“These people don’t have a knack for art, but the things they make are incredibly practical.”
“A dwarf complimenting someone else’s creation?” Galizur said in a tone that made it uncertain whether he was serious or not.
“We dwarves have many compliments to give. However, the other races can’t make anything that’s worth two kobold shits, so there’s nothing to compliment! But these people on the other side are different from the rest of you rabble. They have a proper civilization with proper foundations. They don’t need us to build it for them, like the rest of y’all!”
“The demons can’t be people, they are vermin. Their only purpose is to ruin what the others have created and disturb the balance.”
“These are! I don’t know if they’re demons or not, but I know for certain they have created far more than the rest of your races combined! And a race obsessed with creation can’t be evil!”
“You have looked through the portal, haven’t you dwarf? Are you going to tell me, with a straight face, that anything but the demons can exist in that frozen, desolate wasteland?”
“Guys, guys, calm down!” Hazelmere jumped in, “There is no need to fight! After all, had the demons wanted to invade us, they would have already done so! And there is also a good chance they can’t cross the portal, even if they wanted to! Yes, we must stay vigilant, but the demons haven’t given us a single reason to worry about … so far.”
“That is because they are trying to fool you! You shouldn’t trust the demons, that misplaced trust has doomed thousands of people before you! While the dwarves have convinced you to focus only on the profits, the demons are gathering information about this world!”
“And we’re gathering information about them too!” Wyvernshield countered, “We’ve got far more information on them than they’ve gotten on us! Besides, take a look at this!”
The dwarf jumped out of his seat, moving towards Heartwell.
“See this! See this armor!” He prodded the armor the dark-skinned commander had on him, repeatedly, “Do you have any idea what kind of armor this is?”
“Of course not. I am not a blacksmith.”
“This armor is far more efficient than any other armor anyone else has come up with! And it takes an awful lot of time to make it! Come and see it! Come and see it for yourself!”
Even though Galizur lacked any enthusiasm, he approached the dwarf.
“Look at this thing!” Wyvernshield said while pinching the armor, “See how flexible it is? Do you know of any metal armor so flexible? Well, what’s making it flexible? This right here! Get your feathery head closer, and take a good look. Can you see these small metallic bits? Do you realize how this armor is made? These small parts are linked together, with a lot of painstaking effort and over a long period of time, to provide the wearer with the best possible, most flexible kind of armor!”
“That is nothing new. I am not a blacksmith, and yet even I know that is how mythril armor is made. It is woven like a cloth.”
“And what that tells to your pillowy brain? What does it tell you when the people on the other side are making their armor the same way the elves are making theirs? For their nobles, no less!”
Hazelmere jumped in, once again, because Galizur and Wyvernshield got too close to each other for her comfort.
“Unfortunately, our dwarven friends aren’t the best diplomats, but they are right. What he is trying to say is that the demons on the other side have shown they will go to great lengths to ensure the safety of their people.”
“The demons aren’t people! You can’t treat them like the other races of Greadinall! The Sun elves did that, and the whole world paid for it! It is too much of a risk! We won’t survive another fall!”
Hearing the harsh tone of an angel’s voice, Hazelmere’s eyes went wide for a few moments as her ears rose in alarm. Everyone else in the room, including the dwarves, went quiet as the aura of dead seriousness engulfed the room.
Still, Hazelmere mustered the courage to continue.
“But … but the demons can’t invade us. They can’t cross into our world. And, if they would, it is not like our Empire alone could stand up to them. We have no other options but to please them, hoping that will dissuade them from crossing into our world. You are the one who has advised me to do that.”
Galizur’s wings slumped: “I’m… I am sorry. I understand. It is just that there is way too much at stake.”
“I am fully aware of that. I have been dealing with that for almost a year now.”
“The lass is right. Even if those people are evil as you say, they have no reason to cross the portal as long as they get what they want. Meaning that there’s no alternative to trade! It’s in everyone’s interest! It fills our coffers, and it keeps the demons at bay!”
“But they could send you tainted or cursed items. They have plenty of tools at their disposal to spread chaos, even if they can’t cross the portal themselves.”
“We are checking everything, both with the mages and with the priestesses. Of course, more help is always welcome,” Hazelmere extended her hand towards Galizur, “we will gladly accept any help the heavens can offer. With some angels here, we can ensure there is absolutely no way any demonic corruption can take place.”
“But your Emperor wants the angelic army to help him.”
Hazelmere averted her eyes as her ears and tail fell slightly: “… yes.”
“My lady! My lady! My lady!” An unknown timkik barged through the door, “The messenger wants an immediate audience with you! He says it’s urgent!”
“Now? We have a guest here!”
“It says it’s urgent!”
“The messenger … who is it?” Galizur pondered out loud.
“It is the messenger from the other side. It is a talking construct the demons are using to communicate with us. So, we call it the messenger.”
“A very simple and ugly looking but extremely complicated creation,” Wyvernshield commented, “it has the strange cuteness some ugly females have. The ones who are ugly but still cute and pleasant to be around.”
“I don’t care for your tastes, dwarf.”
“Anyway, the messenger is far more important than this feathery drama queen! Let’s go and see what it has to say!”
“Why don’t you come with us?” Hazelmere put her best smile on, pressing the palms of her hands together, “That way, you can see it for yourself!”
---
“Greetinggsss!”
A person-sized, insect-like lump of metal greeted them in a disturbingly childish voice. It waved its unsettlingly thin arm like a puppet.
“Ahoy, messenger!” Hazelmere took a small bow in front of the construct, to which it replied with a bow of its own, “I heard you have some urgent matter to discuss.”
“Yass! Us finally be prepare to arrive!”
“Huh?”
“Is it always talking like that?” Galizur asked Cybil.
“Its understanding of our language is terrible, but at least it knows it well enough to communicate. Unlike us, who can’t say a single proper word in their language. It tried teaching us, but it didn’t work out.”
“Quiet! Something big is about to happen,” Wyvernshield hushed them from below.
Galizur noticed the bewildered look on Hazelmere’s face. She was supposed to converse with the thing, but no words came out of her mouth. Her twitching ears and swishing tail reflected her internal conflict.
Finally, she spoke: “Umm … I am not sure I understand. Can you repeat that one more time?”
“Us arrive with peace. No need to scare.”