Translator: Cinder Translations
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The deadlock in the negotiations dragged on for several days. The orc chieftain, Abal, remained firm in his demand for the entire northeastern region of the Aldor Kingdom. On the other side, Prince Jassim, leader of the Aldor delegation, resolutely insisted on the immediate withdrawal of the orcs from human lands.
One day, Chieftain Abal invited Prince Jassim to a fishing trip by the river. According to Abal, it was meant to be a private event to relax and ease the tension of negotiations without involving the powers they each represented.
Both parties agreed to bring only their bodyguards, leaving their high-ranking officials behind.
Prince Jassim accepted the invitation, though he didn't buy into the idea of it being "just a personal activity." Abal's request for a private meeting likely meant there was something he couldn't discuss openly. Perhaps it was news of unrest on the grasslands or trouble caused by another power like Gabella. Jassim suspected Abal might have a pressing issue to resolve, making mutual concessions more likely to save face.
Optimistic about this private meeting, Jassim arrived at the designated lakeside location.
Nestled in a dense forest, the lake exuded peace and beauty, its crystal-clear waters reflecting the surrounding greenery. Birds chirped melodiously, and fat, lively fish swam visibly near the surface. The setting seemed perfect for a relaxing fishing trip. Jassim found it odd that Abal, a rugged and seemingly unrefined orc leader, would choose such a serene location.
As Jassim approached on horseback, the soft grass muffling his steps, he saw Abal already fishing. Reclining on a lounge chair with a small table beside him holding a pitcher of wine, Abal appeared utterly at ease.
Jassim was puzzled. The orc leader didn't look the least bit anxious.
Rising from his chair, Abal greeted him warmly. "Welcome, esteemed Prince. I'm glad you could join me in enjoying the beauty of this place."
Though annoyed by Abal's demeanor—as though he were the rightful owner of these lands—Jassim managed a polite smile. "It's always refreshing to find some relaxation amidst such tense times."
Taking the offered fishing rod, Jassim cast his line expertly into the lake and joined Abal at the water's edge. The two sat together, sipping wine and chatting idly about the grasslands and the Kingdom's curiosities.
After some pleasantries, Abal broached the true purpose of the meeting.
"Prince Jassim, you should accept my terms. It's for your own good."
Jassim chuckled, shaking his head. "I must disagree. Agreeing to your terms would paint a target on my back."
Abal sighed and leaned back. "Very well. In that case, allow me to introduce another guest."
Waving toward the forest, Abal signaled someone hidden in the shadows. Slowly, a figure emerged from the treeline, making their way toward the pair.
"What's this…" Jassim's expression shifted from confusion to shock.
"Merciful Father above!" he prayed silently.
Noticing the change on Jassim's face, Abal smirked. "It seems you recognize him."
The newcomer was a man in a black robe, clearly Gabellan by his appearance.
"Good day, Prince. It's been a while," the man greeted calmly.
"Who are you? I don't know you," Jassim replied, his voice steady despite the tension.
"Ah, how rude to ignore an old friend," the black-robed man said, unperturbed. Abal's mocking grin added to Jassim's growing unease.
The man casually waved a hand. "Whether you recognize me is irrelevant. I won't linger long to disrupt your peaceful outing. But before I go, I must deliver a small suggestion on behalf of the Arcane Order."
The mention of the Arcane Order sent a chill through Jassim. His composure cracked as he shouted, his voice trembling with anger. "Why are you here? I no longer require your so-called assistance!"
His bodyguards noticed the prince's outburst and started moving toward him, but Jassim quickly gestured for them to stand down.
"Rest assured, Prince, I'm not here to assist you. Rather, I'm here to collect a small repayment," the man said with a sly smile.
"You… and you…" Jassim sputtered, pointing at the black-robed man and Abal. "You're working together!"
He felt utterly trapped. Abal's fishing trip had been a setup to reel him in.
"Let's not use such harsh terms," Abal said smoothly. "Anyone can engage in trade with anyone else. Haven't you done so yourself?"
The robed man interjected. "Prince, let's not waste time. The Arcane Order simply hopes you'll meet the chieftain's demands."
"Impossible!" Jassim roared, seething with rage.
The robed man's expression darkened, his earlier calm replaced with icy menace. "Then we will have no choice but to reveal some secrets—secrets only we know. For instance, details about the late King of Aldor's health."
Jassim's eyes narrowed. "You have no evidence!"
"Oh, but we do," the man replied, his confidence unwavering. "Believe me, Prince, if we didn't, I wouldn't be here, nor would I be so bold."
The warning struck deep. Jassim's mind raced. For the sake of the crown he had once coveted so desperately, he had made a single deal with the Arcane Order. Just one! Yet it was enough to haunt him.
The black-robed man produced a parchment. One look at it, and Jassim felt as if lightning had struck him.
It was unmistakably a letter he had written in his own hand, detailing the terms of his deal with the Arcane Order. The letter, meant for a trusted confidant, had somehow fallen into their hands.
"How…?" Jassim's voice faltered.
The robed man smiled thinly. "Rest assured, the letter's original recipient remains loyal to you. Past, present, and likely future. However, even the most loyal minds can be influenced by arcane means."
Despair washed over Jassim. These accursed sorcerers and their bizarre powers…
"Fine!" he finally barked, exhaling heavily as he sought to regain his composure. "We will consider concessions, but the specifics must be negotiated."
"Done!" Abal and the robed man exchanged a look of triumph.
Their silent agreement spoke volumes: A fruitful partnership indeed.
(End of the Chapter)
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