The stars of the dark sky glint on a moonless night, the city’s air cold and pungent. Sleep is difficult during this time of year. Winter has never been my friend.

  In the morning, I will be talking with the representative of the Dragonna Empire. Humans. I will need rest so I can properly negotiate with them. Yet, I can’t sleep. My body refuses to move away from a constant state of readiness. My legs shake, ready to spring into action at any given moment.

  What can I even ask them? What can I even do to respond if they put me in a corner? My goodness, to think I am going to speak with a different species is exciting. However, it doesn’t remove the anxiety that how I interact with them will result in trade or all-out war.

  They arrived two days ago. I did offer them a place in the palace, but they prefer to stay in one of the buildings near the marketplace. Two human guards stand near the entrance of their newly established embassy, both holding two different flags. The flag on the left depicts a seven-point black star on a yellow background, while the one on the right depicts a winged fire-breathing reptile being struck down by a hammer. The star, I believe, must represent their empire, while the hammer and lizard might mean the clan or group they come from. Both of them wear silver-plated armour that covers their body. Unlike the helmets the Cinari wear, theirs have a weird metal beak attachment which covers their entire face. Seems a bit silly, I don’t know how they can see out of that.

  Their presence out in the open, standing guard, is a clear message for everyone here. They want to make everyone know who they are and what they are doing here. Dogs glare at them while they walk past, some even calling them Cinari. The humans will correct them by saying they are “Dragonnian”, not Cinari.

  While they may not seem as impressive as the Cinari I battled last year. There is no denying that they are making it clear to everyone that they deserve some respect and even fear. I suspect the humans are doing this so they can point out that we are savages. I have to post two guards of my own near their building to make sure no one causes issues for them.

  And for two days, the human and Dog guards eye each other. Their weapons on their person at all times to warn the other so they don’t think of anything that will cause trouble. The humans will not cause issues, not when their weapon is diplomacy. I just hope my people are on their best behaviour during these trying times.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Syndy says while she rolls around on our bed.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m struggling to sleep.’

  She opens one eye and sighs, ‘why can’t you?’

  ‘I’m meeting with the humans tomorrow. We are low on food, I have no idea what is going on up north, and Max is going behind my back. What else can I list? I have a big day tomorrow.’ I sit at the end of our bed. ‘Worse of all, I don’t feel like I’ve achieved much.’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ she groans.

  ‘It’s true, I didn’t improve our relations with the Cinari, nor did I improve their living standards. I feel, well, I feel stuck.’

  Syndy chuckles to herself, ‘you’re full of shit. You know that, right?’

  ‘Excuse me.’ I respond, taken aback at her half-awake rebuttal.

  ‘You’ve taken your first steps when Simon got here, you gave the Cinari a voice when they didn’t give us one. Now you have the humans here to talk with you. Perhaps you feel like you aren’t doing anything because you’re not sleeping.’

  Well… that is one way to put it. I suppose I am just ignoring the actions I am taking and just trying to find the results that haven’t happened yet.

  ‘Alex',’ Syndy sleepily cries.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You’re spacing out again. You need to stop thinking so much.’

  I smirk while I try to hide my laugh, ‘sorry.’

  ‘You know what is a really good way to show you are sorry?’

  ‘What?’

  She rolls to her side, ‘going to sleep.’

  Alright, darling, I suppose you have a point. Like that, I hop into my side of the bed to begin my slumber.

  It is the moment of truth. I sit on my throne, tapping my fingers as I anxiously wait for the human representative. Simon stands next to my throne to my right, standing tall and proudly. Confident with his past experiences in dealing with humans. I just hope he says what he claims he is.

  Throgan stands to my left, holding his staff with anticipation. Max is in the room with us, though this time she is wearing her armour and not her usual dress of the day. She is expecting the worst outcome from our first meeting.

  With a swing of the door, two Dogs with crossbows escort three humans into the room. The one in the middle wears a bright red and white tunic with black trimmings. He has short black hair, but a long and extravagant moustache, which is complemented by a short beard on his chin.

  The two soldiers next to him wear their silver armour with a black star painted on their chest plate. If there is something I can say about humanity, it is that they don’t have the violet eyes or pointy ears that the Cinari have. Even if Simon constantly insists he is not the same species as them. The two races have an uncanny resemblance that I can’t look past. Sure, they don’t have the purple eyes all Cinaris have or their ears, but that is really it. They all look the same. Perhaps a bit shorter, but that could just be him being a short fellow.

  The man with the moustache places his left hand on his chest while he puts his right leg behind his left to perform a bizarre bow. ‘A pleasure to be in your court, lord regent.’ He says with a strange accent.

  I nod to him in response. Hopefully, this can suffice as a polite response. ‘The pleasure is mine, mister…’

  He raises his hands to correct me, ‘Sir Sigsmund.’

  ‘Sir Sigsmund.’ I repeat his name to show respect. ‘I am aware you came to talk to me about the war I am having.’

  The human raises a brow, ‘what kind of war?’

  ‘A civil war, to be accurate,’ Simon chimes in. ‘Are you aware of the details of the war, Sir Sigsmund?’

  ‘More or less, all I care about is Cinari killing Cinari. But I find it even more strange that their slaves are a part of this civil war, and it seems in a position of power.’ Sigsmund turns to face Max, ‘but to see a woman in armour. I see some undesirable traditions are still alive and well.’

  Max snarls at the human. ‘You are on our land, human! Don’t be foolish enough to insult me.’

  ‘Do not insult me with your presence, wench. Know your place, woman! The men are talking.’ Sigsmund spits back before turning his attention back to me. ‘Having them in your army is one thing, but having them stand in your court? Unbelievable! They are too emotional, too… dramatic. But it is good to see the preferred sex on the throne at least.’

  ‘What is your thing against women?’ I question the human, confused as to his general hostility towards Max.

  ‘How do you think the world ended?’ He points around the room while he waits in silence. ‘Magic! It is a woman’s technology, a poison that killed our glorious past. It is the very thing that plunged the world into the Dark Ages, and it is why men are tasked to rebuild the world with our own technology. Don’t view my stance as hatred towards women, no, I love my women as any other man should. See it as a response to the realities they have created for all of us. You Cinari might prefer to use tech from a bygone era, but in the end, they will break, and none of you will have the means to repair them. A shame, no one should cling to magic. It is like praying for a dying dog to get better, when we all know it won’t.’

  I want to respond to him, but Simon stops me by touching my shoulder. ‘Don’t challenge him, it is all based on their religious dogma. If we want their aid, we have to let this slide.’ He whispers into my ear.

  Fine, I’ll let this go even if I find his beliefs strange and alien. Women’s technology? The last person who used magic before my eyes was a man, not a woman. Well, their beliefs are something to think about.

  ‘Tell me, what are your views of our war?’

  He carelessly shrugs, ‘do you see yourself as Cinari?’

  ‘I do,’ I lie. Though if it is necessary to gain their trust, I will call myself anything if it means my people can have food.

  The human frowns. ‘Then tell me, Cinari. Why do your people confuse us for such? Will they not know the difference between a man and common rabble?’

  ‘Most don’t know what a human is.’ Thorgan interjects. ‘You and Simon’s kind are identical except for a few key appearances. But cover your ears and eyes, and you are both the same. Don’t see it as an insult, Sir Sigsmund. Understand that most of my kind only have knowledge of your existence since yesterday.’

  ‘Is that an omission of idiocy?’

  Thorgan bellows, his grip tightens around his staff. ‘The opposite. An omission of ignorance. When I was young, I never believed my enslavers when they said there was no roof outside. That there is a giant lantern burning for half of the day. It was when I was free that I truly grasped the nature of our world. This extends to the existence of other species besides us and elves. It is an omission of ignorance enforced by our former masters.’

  Sigsmund pauses, thinking about what Thorgan said. ‘The less Cinari in this world, the better.’ He bows to me one last time. ‘If that is all, I will make my leave.’

  ‘No,’ I announce. ‘We have one more thing to discuss.’

  ‘If it is soldiers, no, we will not be fighting in your wars.’

  ‘I’m not interested in your soldiers; we are capable of fighting our own wars. However, I am interested in trade.’

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Sigsmund crosses his arms, ‘and why would I want to trade with you? You should know that our nations don’t have a close history with each other.’

  ‘But things will change. If we win, we can implement a lot of amendments that can benefit every human, Dog…’

  ‘Dog!?’ Sigsmund shouts in shock. ‘I didn’t know you prefer to call yourselves a derogatory term.’

  What? No, this can’t be right, that is how we are called and always called. ‘I think you are mistaken.’ I tell him to defuse the situation.

  ‘No, no, I am not mistaken.’ He rests one hand on his sword while he stares me down. ‘It was written that your species was a proud bunch. Yet here you are, calling yourselves Dogs. If you are not what I think you are, who’s to say you are facing a civil war?’

  The guards next to him ready themselves; it seems they know something is wrong. Max and my guards ready themselves as well. I stay seated on my throne, fearing that if I move, I will incite another conflict, this time with humanity.

  ‘My friend misspoke.’ Simon casually says as he walks to Sigsmund. ‘You see, his people are now used to being called Dogs, because the people who enslaved him never had the dignity to announce his kind by their proper name. Often, they will slip back into calling themselves something that sounds offensive to our ears. But to them, it is regular speech and a force of habit.’

  ‘You think I will buy that?’

  ‘I am simply explaining the misunderstanding. They were only free for about a year, some still calling themselves Dogs and not Lycans out of familiarity and not out of this longing to be back in servitude or out of revolutionary zeal. In their hearts they are still Cinari, and they do wish to be Cinari. But remember, the war is still fresh and change takes time. Surely a diplomat and soldier of Dragonna knows from experience that change is not institutions.’

  Sigsmund glares at Simon, and back at me with a distrusting frown. ‘Forgive me, monsieur. It seems the atmosphere of war has made me more brash than usual.’ He orders his men to stand down with a flick of his wrist.

  ‘All is forgiven,’ Simon smiles. ‘These are confusing times, an elf and a lycan working together for a common cause. A free man and a former slave sharing food. It is something you don’t see every day.’

  ‘Aye, I can agree with that.’ He removes his hand from his sword. ‘So about trade.’

  ‘Yes, we'd like to trade some goods for food.’

  Sigsmund chuckles, ‘during winter? Where I am from, a loaf of bread is worth more than any gold. That is going to be a hard deal, unless you can surprise me.’

  ‘I do,’ Simon taps the floor. In confusion, the human waits for Simon to further explain himself. ‘Magic Crystals, we will gladly trade with you for these crystals.’

  ‘Really, and why should I trade for something that is so useless?’

  ‘Not useless, but rare. We are one of the few places on this planet that has an excess of crystals, and possibly one of the only places that is willing to give them away. For a price, that is.’

  ‘They are byproducts of magic. Why would I even want to touch that witchcraft?’

  Simon smiles back at him, like he has Sigsmund in his grasp. ‘Because it is unique. How do you know the functionalities of magic without proper study? We barely even know its full application. What you are embarking on is not the study of witchcraft, but the frontier of your God’s knowledge in dismantling it. To break it down and build something better and not accidentally utilise the elements of dark magic.’

  ‘You are speaking my language, I like the sound of that.’ Sigsmund looks at his warriors in armour to give them a nod each. ‘That is a good deal, I’m sold on that alone.’ He reaches his hand out, and Simon shakes it to finalise the deal.

  ‘If we may, how about we sign some papers to make this deal official.’ Simon gestures for the human to follow.

  Sigsmund agrees and walks alongside Simon, while they chat about their newfound deal and how Sigsmund feels this is the most pleasant meeting he has ever had with a Cinari.

  Thorgan taps his stick and clears his throat the moment the humans leave the room. ‘This is what we have to deal with? This rudeness?’

  ‘No, this is an opportunity.’ Max sarcastically says with a grumble before leaving the room.

  I suppose she might have a point. Their attitude and behaviour towards everyone is a shock. Though I despise her, Max doesn’t deserve that sort of mistreatment.

  ‘Regardless,’ I turn to Thorgan. ‘I don’t think we are going to be attacked by the humans.’

  Thorgan nods in agreement, ‘and because of Simon. We might have some food. But that won’t be enough.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It will take time before they deliver their supplies. By then, we need to figure out how to keep our population fed.’

  As much as I hate it, he is right. Even with a victory, I still have to rub my face with the bitter reality that we are slowly running out of food. It isn’t critical at the moment, but it also isn’t getting restocked any time soon.

  ‘I’ll think of something, for now let’s just be happy with what we’ve done today.’ I leave my throne to begin my sad march to my own office while I rub my tired eyes.

  Thorgan stands there, watching me as I walk away. Perhaps he can see that I am looking more tired than usual, or that he can sense a hint of defeat in my voice. Every step demands that I take two steps back to face reality. The worst thing is, I have more on their way here to talk to me. My slip-up was noticeable by the humans, making them doubt our cause. Who is to say my next mistake won’t cause a war? Even with Simon’s aid, that mistake is too costly. It will not happen again, I will promise myself that.

  I need to clear my head first; perhaps I can share the news with Syndy. Maybe she can make light of the situation, or perhaps give me ideas on how to handle the food problem.

  Right through the garden section of the palace should be the quickest path to her workshop. Well, it is the best excuse I can come up with. Really, it is the longest route. I only take it because of how calm and isolating the palace garden is.

  Before everything, before Marak’s long rule and the changes enforced by all. It was beautiful. Its hedges were trimmed, and the flowers bloomed even during the coldest days of winter. Now, the grass is replaced with dirt, the hedges removed to make a way for targets of different materials, so we can test out our crossbows. A once remarkable place, now devastated by the war.

  However, despite its current dilapidated state. I like walking through it. Though the ground is covered in snow, the dirt that clings between my toes is something else. All of it looks like shit, but it is my safe place. A place that has promise. When we win, or if we win. The first thing I will do is bring the garden back and nurture it back to its former glory.

  If only my walk across there is peaceful. In the yard, Max fires a crossbow at a stone target. The bolt penetrates the hard surface.

  Sigsmund stands beside her, impressed with the weapon. ‘And we will have the blueprints?’

  ‘Only if you hold up your end of the bargain.’ Max notices me and smiles. ‘That is all for now, I’ll see you next month?’

  Sigsmund nods before he heads off, though this time with a satisfying grin. What did you do, Max?

  ‘What is this about?’ I confront her.

  Max cranks the crossbow back so she can load another bolt in manually. ‘I’ve sped up the deal, and so we can have a fleet of our own.’

  ‘And how did you do that?’

  ‘Simple, I promise them blueprints of our oldest generation crossbow.’

  ‘You what!?’ That fool, that bloody fool! ‘That is our…’

  ‘Was our most prized weapon.’ Max hisses at me. ‘But we need ships, and we need food as soon as possible. With our deal, we can get food delivered here sooner than what Simon bargained for.’

  I groan in annoyance. ‘That doesn’t mean you go behind my back and sell us off!’

  Max raises her crossbow and fires it at the stone target, splitting the bolt that is already embedded in it.

  ‘I didn’t sell us off. In case you forgot, we lost a lot of our ships trying to figure out how we can invade the north. We need to think ahead about our future, and we are desperate for immediate results. If I don't step in, food will only arrive here in six months. You and I both know we don’t have the time to wait any further.’

  ‘You still went behind my back.’

  She cranks the crossbow back again. ‘No, Alex. I didn’t. This is a military matter; the crossbows and their schematics are my responsibility. It just so happens my deal benefits our cause. Now, how about you run off and focus on the civilian matters? That is why Marak made you regent in the first place. So, kindly fuck off and get to work.’

  She aims one last time and fires the bolt, hitting the target again before putting the crossbow down and walking away.

  There is no point in arguing any further. It will only be a waste of time. It’s good that food will arrive much earlier, but she doesn’t need to go behind my back. There should be a line of communication between us. However, it is now very clear that she doesn’t care about that. In that case, I need to find a way to work without her. Though that will also mean I will need to make friends with some soldiers. Being potential enemies with a leader of our military is one thing; being one without any protection is another.