11-02-2019, 09:20 AM
Behind Lilliana, a branch groans in the wind, and Lepis glances at it for just a moment. The redwood giants do not lose limbs easily, and she cannot tell which tree it might have been. By the time she looks back at the taller mare, Lilliana has begun to speak, and Lepis listens attentively.
She asks why the Northern kingdom perceives them as a threat, and Lepis lifts her winged shoulders in a shrug, a wordless answer as Lilliana adds another question. Why indeed?
“The more friends we have, the more powerful we are.” It sounds obvious, the answer she might give if Elio asked the question, yet it is the only one that makes sense, and her tone is somber. The Comtesse has asked it of herself for months now, each time coming back to that one truth. “Nerine was once a great empire, but its strength has waned.” Her mother had told her the stories, tales of the Iron Queen Nayl, of the genie and the dragon who followed her command, of the united realm that once encompassed lands like Sylva and Hyaline, lands that have since been eaten up by other powers.
“Now Taiga is the more powerful land, yet Nerine will not acknowledge that, will not give our woods the title of Kingdom in the North. Nerine would use my people as their shield against the rest of Beqanna, but can not offer us greater protection for that service in turn, the way a kingdom should.” Lepis refuses to engage her people in a war without their consent, yet their existence as Nerine’s territory makes them little more than vassals, to be traded and used and sacrificed at another’s whim. The contradiction is blatantly clear; has kept her up more than one night, and yet her hands remain bound as tight as Taiga is to Nerine.
“I offered to accept the position of kingdom on my last trip to Nerine, and if not that then permission to align ourselves instead as a territory of the stronger Loess.” There was more said, of course, but a verbatim recount of her journey north seems unimportant. “In return, she offered me a choice as well: give up Taiga, or be destroyed.”
Heartfire would return the woods to Aten’s rule if she took the first option, Lepis supposes. She would give the helm of the forest back to a leader with minimal knowledge of Beqanna’s political machinations. The man couldn’t even offer a friendship to another kingdom without raising their hackles - he will never be strong enough to threaten the Queen of Nerine’s sense of absolute power. Heartfire would never destroy Taiga, Lepis is sure of that; any action against the innocent would flip the narrative she tried so hard to make Lepis believe at their last encounter.
Lepis is the instigator, the warmonger, the bringer of violence. That is what Nerine would have the world believe. That is the story Beqanna must hear, lest they question why a coastal land that is as empty as it is grey retains a title it does not deserve. It is the story Lepis means to turn on its head before Heartfire has a chance to carry out her threat, the story that will seem ludicrous to a world full of Taigan friends.
“I would not wish Heartfire to take that anger out on the alliances we make,” Lepis finishes, and her cool grey eyes settle on Lilliana. The anger should remain pointed on Lepis herself, that calmness says: she will bear the brunt of it if ever Nerine attempts to make good on its threat. “So we make friendships instead, acceptable relationships for the arrogant child that Heartfire thinks me to be.”At that she smiles faintly again, for she knows she is arrogant as surely as she knows she is right (though she will never admit to one and forever claim the other).
She asks why the Northern kingdom perceives them as a threat, and Lepis lifts her winged shoulders in a shrug, a wordless answer as Lilliana adds another question. Why indeed?
“The more friends we have, the more powerful we are.” It sounds obvious, the answer she might give if Elio asked the question, yet it is the only one that makes sense, and her tone is somber. The Comtesse has asked it of herself for months now, each time coming back to that one truth. “Nerine was once a great empire, but its strength has waned.” Her mother had told her the stories, tales of the Iron Queen Nayl, of the genie and the dragon who followed her command, of the united realm that once encompassed lands like Sylva and Hyaline, lands that have since been eaten up by other powers.
“Now Taiga is the more powerful land, yet Nerine will not acknowledge that, will not give our woods the title of Kingdom in the North. Nerine would use my people as their shield against the rest of Beqanna, but can not offer us greater protection for that service in turn, the way a kingdom should.” Lepis refuses to engage her people in a war without their consent, yet their existence as Nerine’s territory makes them little more than vassals, to be traded and used and sacrificed at another’s whim. The contradiction is blatantly clear; has kept her up more than one night, and yet her hands remain bound as tight as Taiga is to Nerine.
“I offered to accept the position of kingdom on my last trip to Nerine, and if not that then permission to align ourselves instead as a territory of the stronger Loess.” There was more said, of course, but a verbatim recount of her journey north seems unimportant. “In return, she offered me a choice as well: give up Taiga, or be destroyed.”
Heartfire would return the woods to Aten’s rule if she took the first option, Lepis supposes. She would give the helm of the forest back to a leader with minimal knowledge of Beqanna’s political machinations. The man couldn’t even offer a friendship to another kingdom without raising their hackles - he will never be strong enough to threaten the Queen of Nerine’s sense of absolute power. Heartfire would never destroy Taiga, Lepis is sure of that; any action against the innocent would flip the narrative she tried so hard to make Lepis believe at their last encounter.
Lepis is the instigator, the warmonger, the bringer of violence. That is what Nerine would have the world believe. That is the story Beqanna must hear, lest they question why a coastal land that is as empty as it is grey retains a title it does not deserve. It is the story Lepis means to turn on its head before Heartfire has a chance to carry out her threat, the story that will seem ludicrous to a world full of Taigan friends.
“I would not wish Heartfire to take that anger out on the alliances we make,” Lepis finishes, and her cool grey eyes settle on Lilliana. The anger should remain pointed on Lepis herself, that calmness says: she will bear the brunt of it if ever Nerine attempts to make good on its threat. “So we make friendships instead, acceptable relationships for the arrogant child that Heartfire thinks me to be.”At that she smiles faintly again, for she knows she is arrogant as surely as she knows she is right (though she will never admit to one and forever claim the other).
