Aren was woken up on the first of three days to decide the world''s future in her small, unadorned room. The first bells of the morning let out their ring in the morning light. Moving slowly, she stretched, threw on her suit, which she had prepared for herself the day before, and headed downstairs to her bathroom. She combed her auburn hair in the mirror, then tied it up into a long ponytail.


    Moving on, she went to her small kitchenette and prepared herself breakfast. She picked out a purple-red raspberry jam and sliced herself a few tranches of bread.


    Even though, as the head of Arian’s largest- and most important- embassy she could afford wheat bread, she had rye instead. She never understood why the nobility preferred it; wheat bread was bland and tasteless when one compared it to rye.


    The bread got slathered in jam, then eaten, in time.


    Eventually, she checked the front door''s mail slit, and only one letter sat in it. It was unusual, in her mind, for so little to come in before such an important event.


    Mail could be sent almost instantaneously across the world, thanks to teleportation circles, which were set at ley lines’ intersections. So could a pillow, or a sword, or a snack. But send a living thing through a circle, while the body would come, the creature’s essence would stay behind.


    As such, she’d normally get sent a smattering of letters any day she met with another nation’s delegation.


    Regardless, Aren opened the letter, and was promptly met with a surprise: it was from Arina''s ruler himself. That was nearly unheard of, even for days like this one. She’d only gotten four letters from him previously, each of which she’d kept in one of her desk’s drawers.


    To: Representative Aren de Gephyra


    From: His Majesty King Olis IX of Arina


    Representative de Gephyra, I would first like to thank you once again for your service to our grand nation. Your work in Zeryzian at the Grand Embassy as a representative of my will has greatly aided Arina in diplomacy.


    However, I''m not writing to congratulate you. You know as well as I, or any Arinite does, that diplomacy will not work with a force like The Evil. Perhaps those who don''t see conflict firsthand think that a signed piece of paper will stop it from fighting, have it gently settle into humanity’s civilization. It is my opinion that that shall not, nor shall ever, work. They will fight and kill us the second our guard goes down.


    You''ve been given relatively free rein over diplomacy- and for good reason- but understand that if you agree to a treaty being drawn up, you will be exiled. Of course, if a treaty is drawn up without your ‘yea’, you won’t be punished. Arina will be reasonable should that be the case.


    I understand that our interests and opinions align regardless, but precautionary measures are, well, precautionary.


    The other nations, however, I worry do not share our views. As such, the International Relations Corps have arranged for two others who share our views to help you at the trial. For the sake of safety, their names have not been given to me, but know that the password is ''BORDER'' and that you can meet them at 5th Avenue and Greensborough Street at 08:00 on the first day of the hearings.


    Signed, His Royal Majesty Olis IX of Arina, on the 8th of the 1st of 662


    "Wait, 8 o''clock? It''s already 7:40!", Aren thought, startled. Up to this point, she’d been taking her time, as she assumed she’d had much more time to prepare She snatched the letter and ran back up to her room, placing it in her drawer. She ran back downstairs and quickly shoved on a pair of shoes before she began the walk to 5th & Greensborough.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    On her way, she passed through several blocks’ worth of busy markets.


    The senses of the bustling city washed over her. The smell of the bakers’ bread wafted out of many of the buildings. Ahead of her, one of the street corners had been turned into a market for the morning. Stalls with colour-striped tarp coverings dotted the corner, each selling some unique good.


    Overhead, the sun shone, just above the water of Zeryzian’s coast. It illuminated a bright, clear sky, the very edge of which was still streaked with the daybreak’s yellows and oranges.


    The sounds, smells, and sights of the city washed over her, and she was soothed.


    …


    Any fear of delaying the other two by not making it in time proved to be unfounded, as the others were late as well. The three gave the password to each other in turn.


    The first of the duo, a young Sterlir with close-cropped green hair and a face peppered with freckles, whom she thought she recognized, introduced himself as Quill. She noted that he was wearing a suit that one would expect at the country’s embassy. The other, an even younger woman who wore a traditional garb that reminded Aren of what she might find in rural Arina, introduced herself as Trici.


    "So, I, um, I was told we shared a sentiment against... it?", stammered Trici. She was visibly nervous.


    "Yeah, I got a letter from- you won''t believe this- King Aliso himself", beamed Quill, clearly pleased with himself. Aren found it strange; her nation and Sterlir rarely agreed on trivial matters, yet their rulers were directly collaborating on something as important as this. Even though their kings both wanted no peace, Aren wouldn’t have expected for them to directly cooperate.


    …


    Quill and Trici continued on chatting for some time, but Aren only listened with half an ear.


    "It''s getting pretty close to the first hearing. I should go", she remarked.


    "Oh! Might as well join you; Department Head de Thern would kill me if I''m late", Quill added. Aren realised that he was the translator for Mari.


    Trici spoke up just as Aren turned to leave, "They''re not letting in us regular folk until right before it starts, so I can''t join you, but we could meet for lunch. I know a place; it''s called The Shattered Egg. It''s just a few blocks down on 8th."


    Aren and Quill quickly agreed before turning to leave towards the Grand Embassy. Trici let out a "See you there", though Aren barely heard it. She broke off from the pair, and headed off towards 8th Avenue. Aren wondered if she was going to her café.


    …


    No matter how many times he saw it, Quill was never not dazzled when he saw the Grand Embassy. It rose above the skyline of Zeryzian, or at least the portion of the city-state that was at sea level. The noblity’s complexes overlooked the city on a set of chalky cliffs.


    The embassy was constructed of sandstone blocks, interlacing to create intricate walls. The building peaked in seven places, each sloping up to one of the corners of the heptagonagol building. The flag of a country flew on a pole that topped each peak.


    Though Quill wasn''t particularly trusting of the woman he walked besides, especially after he had seen how she interacted with Mari, he didn''t doubt that Aren knew what she was doing.


    "Make sure to watch out for anyone that might be useful to us. We''ll need all the allies we can get. Even Mari is seriously considering it, and you know how she is about the status quo", he said, attempting to start a conversation.


    "I can''t disagree there. I can only think of Eric as being definitivly on our side, and maybe Hothal if we can push him."


    "I doubt that he''ll be able to exercize any free will about the i- WATCH OUT!", Quill replied analytically, before yanking himself and Aren back as they nearly ran into a teenager with crimson red eyes.


    "Sorry about that, we didn''t mean to almost hit you", Aren quietly consoled the androgynous teenager. Quill noticed an oddly straight section of their left arm''s sleeve, but didn''t bring it up. It would be idiotic to not be able to defend yourself if you looked lower-class or vulnerable. She turned back to Quill, a "What were you saying" coming from her lips.


    Quill started the conversation back up, "Hothal is just obeying his orders. I doubt he''d be given free rein for a descision here. His nation’s rulers have told him how to vote, and you know he’s not one to disobey."


    "You''d be surprised how long a leash we get. As long as we aren’t causing international incidents, our rulers don’t care. Anyways, we''re here. Keep an eye out for Trici, will you? I''ve got to go", Aren replied, ending the conversation. Quill watched her go off in Arina''s embassy''s direction.


    …


    He made his way towards his home country''s chambers. Mari de Thern, a woman dressed in her ever-formal suit, met him at the entrance. Her amethyst eyes met his emerald ones.


    "Hello, Quill. Just on time as always. Would you mind bringing up the list of speakers to the office? Tehran''s out on an errand", she greeted him. While normally he would mind, it was too convenient an opportunity. Only the head diplomats themselves had gotten a list of all the speakers that would present over the following three days, each vying to change the council members’ minds.


    "Sure", he agreed, taking the recently-signed paper. He made his way to the office while checking the full timetable. Trici was on the list, he noted, as the last speaker tommorow. The decision, he thought, would be rather hurried, only a day after Trici''s speech. Two days from now, on the overmorrow.