Amara D’Aegor, the Commander, tilted her head up to gaze on Castle D’Alaesa. It was a substantial downgrade from Selaria, which Amara had visited thrice in her life, but that was not to say it wasn’t grand. It was situated on a delicate cliffside which plummeted down to the sea. After taking the teleporter from Riverside to a nondescript hamlet, she had walked for a day and a half to reach here. The castle ahead was impregnable, its land-facing edges built up to towering heights of stone. Moreover, these walls were manned by hawk-eyed soldiers - shaerds, Amara made further note of by their familiar skin colours.

She used the well-trodden path to make her way to the castle, knowing that she was under watch by countless crossbows and ballistae but simultaneously knowing that they wouldn’t dare shoot. She was a princess, after all, Princess Amara of the D’Aegor lineage. While the humans failed to take in the full weight of this, such wouldn’t be the case for her own kind. A well-meaning gale pushed at her back, and the fields of flowers to her sides shivered. She passed several travellers on the way, and they lowered their heads and stepped off the path when they crossed.

In a way, it felt like she was returning home to where she really belonged, although she knew one settlement could never have two princesses. Besides, this was Castle D’Alaesa, not D’Aegor, and she had left all her subjects behind in Riverside. Amara had to remind herself: she wasn’t returning home, no, she was here on a diplomatic mission to convince her fellow princess. This thought steeled her expression, just in time too as she came upon the gate.

“Greetings, princess. Where do you hail from?” asked a light-blue soldier from atop the barbican. Several others curiously gathered around him.

“Our home lays in Folerbe, although it is now lost,” she answered.

“Ah, the D’Aegor line. Princess, please step through. We will show you to the palace at once.”

And so it was. She was speedily zipped through the settlement, with many citizens coming up to her in the streets to request her blessing. Most of them were originally from Folerbe, separated from their home and princess by the System. But Amara didn’t dare dally for too long, knowing word of her arrival would have already reached Fiona by now. It was never a good idea to make Fiona wait too long; of all the royal families, the D’Alaesas had always been the most bellicose and quick-tempered, and Fiona had not been one to go against her lineage.

The palace was impressive, sure enough, cutting a striking image against the setting suns and endless sea beyond, but Amara focused inwardly, on what she could and should say. The rest of the way was a blur of grandeur and might before she was deposited in front of a massive doorway. It was closed and split in the middle with scenes of D’Alaesas long-lost on its two faces. There were guards in the room with her, but none of them moved to help, nor would they if requested, Amara knew. To face Fiona, one had to prove themselves, and that was the same even for other princesses.

Amara placed one hand on each door, inhaled deeply, and then heaved, the doors creaking forward at a painfully slow pace. Her arms were shaking, their sensation dulling as they reached their limit just as the doors let down the resistance and swung forth, leaving her nothing to catch herself by as she fell forward. Her thud sounded through the hall with no other sound accompanying it, and Amara slowly but gracefully rose, ignoring any sensation of pain which bawled for her attention.

Inside, there was only Fiona at the end of the lavishly furnished hall, seated atop a raised throne, looked down on the entrant. She was ebony purple with a jutting chest and massive frame, dressed in armour despite the occasion. “Better than last time, if our memory serves us right.”

Amara didn’t respond, instead opting to walk forward, the clacks of her boots bouncing off the walls. “Greetings, Fiona.”

“And to you, Amara,” said Fiona, lazily placing her head onto a bunched fist. “What have we done to earn such a visit from yourself?”

“We are here on behalf of Riverside,” Amara started, figuring there was no point in hiding the purpose of her visit. “We are told you alone hold the opinion Idroa should be ruled by an Aristocracy.”

“What else?” Fiona confirmed. “It is the only proper way.”

“But what of all the others? Surely they see you as a lone target to pick off.”

“Agreed,” Fiona said. “And they will come, no doubt, and we will crush every single one of them. Truthfully, after further thought, we see this hall is somewhat bare without the heads of worthy enemies decorating its walls.”

“What if one of them fells you, though. There are thirty of them and only one of you. Surely it is more sensible to add your weight to one of them, and from what we have heard, it appears neither Kuraim nor Lucian will accept a future where our kind exists. As such, we call upon you to—”

“We are going to have to stop you there,” Fiona interrupted, raising an open palm. She slowly pushed off her throne and made down the steps, her footfall thrice as loud as Amara’s had been. She only stopped her advance when she loomed over Amara, her expression a mixture of distaste and amusement. “Where are your subjects, Amara? We hear you entered my castle alone.”

Although Amara was cowed, she tried not to show it. “They remain in Riverside. I came alone to—”

Fiona raised a palm again to pause her. “So, let us confirm? You deserted your subjects in enemy territory to come to our hall to tell us to abandon the customs that have ruled our society for eternity, the same customs that saw you to a position of power. After being leashed by these aliens, you come here and urge us too to consort with them.” Fiona exhaled. “Do you have no shame, Amara D’Aegor? What would your ancestors think if they could see your pitiful appearance now?”

“Your assess us unfairly,” Amara replied. “We have had to change our views with the times to protect our people and our race. It is our genuine belief that if you do not—”

“Pfft.” Fiona grabbed her fellow princess’s head with one hand, her fingers digging into flesh. The other hand came from the other side and clamped down, and Fiona casually raised Amara, who flailed helplessly. “You are not worthy of being a princess. You bring shame upon your lineage and upon our entire race, and so we will take proper action to see you erased.” Her hands squeezed down, releasing an anguished shriek, sickly squelching, and a gasp. Fiona held on until it was all over, at which time she threw the body aside, wiping her hands on her armour. Her expression perfectly encapsulated her bored contempt.

****

A separate building had been constructed in Riverside for the alliance meetings, now that the number of aligned Sovereigns had significantly increased. Although there were some complaints from Sovereigns over the fact it was situated in Riverside and not in neutral grounds, these complaints got nowhere since the majority were fine with the arrangements, most notably the influential ones. And so it was that the first meeting between all the Sovereigns in the Meritocracy alliance took place in Riverside, attended by every invited Sovereign but two.

One was not present because she was a massive whale who had no interest in such trivial matters, and the hosts were grateful for such a fact since they had no idea how they would have accommodated her in the first place. The other was too busy dealing with loose ends to attend. Apart from them, Elise joined the meeting as the mayor of Riverside, with dozens of attendants waiting outside in the corridors in case their help was required.

The new entrants to the alliance were Hou, who had joined Vivienne here as he had promised, the drakkar, who kept to themselves and of which there were a few Sovereigns exceptionally unhappy with the current arrangements, and Zitu and Fayiure, who Ajit had formed a thick mana barrier around to stop the eyeborn from zipping around the whole place.

Just so you know, I could break out of this at any time, Zitu telepathically informed, just so that no one was uncertain over her powers.

“Yes, yes,” Ajit said with a sigh, half-wishing Zitu and Fayiure had fought instead of joining the alliance. Over the last few days, since they had come over, he had been assigned to monitor them alongside Bobby, since they were the only two who could deal with such arcane beings. Fayiure was mostly alright, but Zitu was a whole another story. It should be telling that Vivienne had, for a time, tried to tame the eyeborn, before swiftly giving up and situating herself as far away as possible.

“How do you intend to beat Kuraim and Lucian?” Baerl asked the hall. Next to him, Klope and Dying Light sat calmly. Peryn, Broken Scale, and Folding Winds didn’t look as pleasant, however.

“And what about Fiona?” Dlyo asked. “Will she be joining us or?”

“She can be counted out,” Elise answered. “From what we can gather, the envoy we sent to her was either killed or forced to leave our town. Either way, Fiona hasn’t responded to our pleas to sit down and talk, so we’ve taken that lack of response as her response. She is being dealt with as we speak, so she shouldn’t concern any of us from hereon. As for those autocrats, well,” Elise paused and looked to the prophet.

“Kuraim has finally pinpointed the location of my grove, where my figurative heart lies,” the prophet said plainly. “Unsurprisingly, he is moving towards it with his horde.”

“And this isn’t a surprise because?” Hou asked.

“He and I occupy a similar field of power. Because of this, I cannot use most of my abilities in fear of him, and he cannot use some of his abilities in fear of me,” the prophet answered. “Since his faction is mostly made up of his undead, those few abilities would significantly raise his power, and so he has long prioritised ridding the world of my presence and I of his.”

“So we can ambush him there,” Baerl said. “I suppose the plan has promise.”

“It won’t be an ambush since he’ll expect it,” the prophet said. “And chances are Lucian will join us there, although I can’t be certain since he has eliminated all of my spies. He certainly knows mine and Kuraim’s rivalry, as well as the fact that Kuraim is presently heading for my grove and that I will defend it.”

“Or he could use your expectations to instead teleport here or to any other allied settlement with his army to raze them down while they are vulnerable,” Emmanuel suggested.

“It is possible,” the prophet admitted. “And while it certainly wouldn’t be against his character to do so, it is more so in his character to take the crowning moment in such a defining fight. I cannot fathom a reality in which he can resist from attending such a momentous clash, which will remembered throughout history.”

“So?” Fayiure asked.

“So, what? We fight, what else?” Aengus answered for the hall.

____

Autocracy (for Lucian): Lucian Grimes (human, Warlord), Sophie Chandler (human, Demolitionist), Astor (stingtail, unknown), Sandip Mand (human, Windwalker), Stefan Sommer (human, Chronicler) - 5

Autocracy (for Kuraim): Kuraim Jaffer (human, Necromancer), Zafeera Bazzi (human, Blood Ripper), Dahlia Howe (human, Abomination) - 3

Aristocracy: Fiona D’Alaesa (shaerd, unknown) - 1

Meritocracy: Silas Wycliffe (human, Duellist), Aengus Abercrombie (human, Master of War), Ajit Ghost (human, Warlock), Vivienne Durant (human, Beastmaster), Emmanuel Baasch (human, Alchemist), Katerina Ivanov (human, Hidden Blade), Elisha Luna (human, Primal Healer), Hou Yu (human, Artificer)

Ferer Greencare (mycelia), Bobby (pygmy troll, Sorcerer), Hokul Ironboot (dwarf, Adventurer), Zitu (Eyeborn, unknown), Fayiure (phoenix), Shamu (blue whale), Dlyo (stingtail, Aeromancer)

Baerl of Time (drakkar, Chronomancer), Peryn of Dragonfire (drakkar, Pyromancer) Klope of Rain (drakkar, Hydromancer), Broken Scale (drakkar, Barbarian), Folding Winds (drakkar, Inquisitor), Dying Light (drakkar, Devastator) - 21