On their final approach to Shatufan, Leon had a choice to make. It was a large, walled city, and its long curtain walls were heavily enchanted. Despite that, he could punch through those enchantments if he wanted to and fly over the walls. However, that might be seen as a provocation and could cost him the resources and support he needed.
On the other hand, landing and approaching on foot, while a sign of humility, trust, and respect, might also be taken as a sign of weakness. It might encourage the powers-that-be in the city not to support him out of fear of the Ocean Kingdom, or they might arrogantly believe that despite being weaker than Leon, they had power over him and could dictate terms.
Leon wasn’t keen on showing his neck to the magistrates of the city, but he needed to acquire the resources they produced no matter what.
’No harm in starting with respect,’ he considered. ‘If they try to screw me over, I can… cross that bridge when I come to it.’ For the moment, he didn’t want to consider what might happen if a show of respect wasn’t rewarded out of fear of poisoning negotiations before they even began.
So, he led his small entourage and landed in front of Shatufan’s largest gate. As with many great cities he knew of, a small town had sprung up around the gate, helping to facilitate trade between the city dwellers and the country folk. The gate itself sat on one side of a huge forum in which many shops and stalls had been set up, and through which many wheelless carriages drove, some large and laden with goods. A huge quantity of cargo passed through the gate every day, despite most of the city’s resources coming in by ship from villages along the shores of the largest of the Finger Lakes, next to which Shatufan had been built.
Leon’s aura was radiant and unmistakable, and he filled the sky with clouds as he touched down in the forum. Wheelless carriages were buffeted by wind and the sheer weight of his aura, and people screamed in alarm and fear as they sought cover. Even the gate guards, apparently more used to monitoring trade and keeping peace, were intimidated, and Leon’s companions had more than enough time to land beside him and present a united front before several high-ranking—if their uniforms were any indication—officers in the gatehouse emerged to confront them. The strongest of their number was only sixth-tier, however, weaker even than the weakest member of Leon’s entourage.
“I-Identify yourselves!” the commander shouted, his only lightly accented voice wobbly and uncertain despite his attempt to assert himself.
“I am Leon Raime, King of Artorion!” Leon loudly declared for everyone to hear. “I have business with your city’s Presiding Magus!”
“W-Wait here!” the commander demanded, and Leon cocked an eyebrow.
“Here?” he asked with a pointed look around the forum and the disturbance he was causing.
The commander, already pale, swiftly changed his mind and ushered them into the gatehouse.
The gatehouse itself was a spectacular building, serving as both a way for Shatufan to show off its wealth as well as a way to secure entrance into the city. It was grand in size, about half the size of the southern Talon, and showed the general architectural style of the city well: a rectangular building made of local yellow-white stone, decorated with swathes of bright blue and white paint. As far as Leon could tell, all of the city’s administrative and defensive structures shared a similar geometric footprint and color scheme.
His party was hurried through the gatehouse’s halls—fortunately tall enough even for his giants to comfortably pass through—until they reached a well-appointed room where they could wait. There were no windows opening into the city, as befitting of a defensive structure, but there were plenty of plush seats and small tables around which his people could gather.
Once there, he didn’t have long to wait. Within a quarter of an hour, he received his first proper welcome from someone of high rank in the city.
A party half as large as Leon’s, though of roughly equal average power, entered the waiting room, led by a familiar face: Jamshid of House Pishda, as he recalled, the tenth-tier mage who accompanied Manuchehr to Artorion. Though it had only been a couple months since then, so much had happened that it almost felt like years.
“King Leon,” Jamshid said in perfect Nexus common, putting Manuchehr’s stilted and accented speech to shame. “I welcome you to Shatufan, the jewel of the Far West. I apologize for any misunderstandings that may have occurred; your arrival was unexpected.”
Though his words were friendly enough, Leon could sense hostility from most of Jamshid’s entourage. Despite that, he decided to take the man at his word and attitude, and answered, “I am glad to be welcomed, I have business to discuss with your people.”
“What kind of business brings you to my enviable city?” Jamshid asked with a pleasant smile.
“The business kind of business,” Leon answered. “I find myself with a need for Aurichalcum that I believe your people may help satisfy. Perhaps we might discuss that?”
Jamshid’s smile thinned slightly. “My city prides itself in being the only source of that material in the Far West. As a result, we have many clients who request our supply, not the least of whom is Despot Archelaus, who purchases most of what we produce. He pays in advance when he makes orders for the Aurichalcum. We are almost fully booked for the next few decades; given your… situation in the south, I do not believe you have the time to wait for large amounts of the material.”
“With sufficient investment, production can be increased,” Leon pointed out.
“Not in a short time,” Jamshid responded.
“I am willing to reopen negotiations on the price,” Leon stated. “I will state, however, that the longer the negotiations continue, the less able I’ll be to pay. So perhaps we ought to get started as soon as possible?”
Jamshid grinned. “That will be a matter for the Azadan to handle. For now, I invite you into the city as my personal guest. This fortress is hardly the place to conduct such negotiations, nor is it a place to host visiting monarchs.”
With a more welcoming expression, the tenth-tier mage gestured toward the door, and not sensing any traps, Leon accepted the invitation. Jamshid then escorted him through the gatehouse and into the city. Once on the other side, Jamshid took flight, and Leon followed suit.
“How do you find my city?” Jamshid asked in a pleasant tone as they flew over it.
“It’s spectacular,” Leon answered. It was a far sight from the great cities of Aeterna, to be sure, and certainly couldn’t hold a candle to Archelion, but it was at least on par with Alhamachim, if much larger. Thick, sturdy city walls; towers capped with Lances; wide, paved streets; crowded docks; a thriving commerce sector; happy, well-fed people; and many extensive estates filled with gold, silver, and marble. He even spied a colossal statue of a robed man fifty feet tall made entirely—or at least plated in—Aurichalcum standing in the center of what looked to be a large racing track or sports arena.
Shatufan was a wealthy city, and that wealth was on display.
“Now that we’re away from more open ears,” Jamshid said, flying a little closer to Leon so that his whispering could be more easily heard, “I have to say, King Leon, that your arrival is not going to be well-received by the Azadan.”
“Is the Azadan your ruling body?” Leon asked.
“The Azadan are the men of rank and station, not just within Shatufan but throughout many cities of the Storm Lands, and beyond. In this city, those who reach certain political ranks or have enough wealth are given the status of an Azadan. The highest political ranks, including the Presiding Magus, come from these ranks almost without exception.”
“I thought your Presiding Magus was elected?”
Jamshid smiled again. “It is rare for any outside of the Azadan to gain enough influence within the city to even contemplate running for that office. Though… I suppose nothing specifically forbids such a thing, despite many attempts to codify this requirement.”
“Interesting. Why are these Azadan not thrilled with me?”
‘Not like they’ll have to search that hard for a reason,’ Leon sarcastically thought. He wasn’t surprised that his arrival wouldn’t be taken well; he just wanted to know the specific reason.
Jamshid grimly stated, “The same business that brings you here, no doubt. Though we are a great distance from the closest coast, we are not outside the reach of the Ocean Lords. The Storm Lords powerful enough to protect us are focused in the Far East, and so we are left on our own. It is the belief of most of the Azadan that we ought not to antagonize the Ocean Lords by dealing with your people in any way. Such is the reason for our general reluctance to trade even before your current… situation.”
“I see…” Leon murmured.
Before their conversation could continue, they reached their destination, one of the most opulent of all the estates in the city. It was made almost entirely of gleaming white stone, its luster marred only by the rich blue and green paint that covered much of the estate’s main building. Murals, paintings, tapestries, and mosaics filled the interior of the estate as far as he could see as they came in to land, most of which featured various winged creatures—griffins and eagles, particularly, which he found amusing. He heard a thrilled exclamation from Anzu at the sight of a large griffin statue featured in a many-pillared hall open to the sky that seemed to serve as the main courtyard to enter the estate.
Jamshid led them to land in a smaller courtyard, the floor of which featured a beautiful mosaic of a large eagle flying through a lightning-filled storm. Though the eagle was more red than brown and gold, Leon couldn’t help but grin at the similarities to his favored Ancestor.
“I have seen your power from afar, Leon of House Raime,” Jamshid said the moment after Leon felt the estate’s considerable defensive wards snapping into place around them, giving them a greater degree of privacy than they had flying above the city. “The Azadan will be reluctant to work with you in this matter. I… will be an exception to that trend.”
Leon gave him a searching look. Jamshid could be right, the Azadan of the city might not want to work with him. In that case, having Jamshid on side would be incredibly valuable. On the other hand, he only had Jamshid’s word that the city’s nobility were reluctant to accept his trade offers, and he was wary of taking the man at face value.
At the very least, though, he was showing greater initiative in offering Leon hospitality than anyone else seemed to be—he could see many of the guard stations being reinforced, and more than a few panicked-looking men of wealth and rank assembling in several places throughout the city, many of whom were watching Jamshid’s estate with extreme wariness.
So, for the time being, Leon was perfectly happy to accept Jamshid’s hospitality.
“Let us be honest with each other, then,” Leon said. “What do you hope to gain from me?”
Without missing a beat nor letting his smile drop a fraction of an inch, Jamshid answered, “Access to your storm crystal. It is a rare material that my House—who are the best enchanters in this city, in my humble opinion—values. We do not wish to see your city destroyed by the detestable Ocean Lords over their petty and arrogant demands. We believe that by working together, we might come to greater mutual prosperity.”
Leon nodded in understanding. While he wasn’t sure if that was Jamshid’s only reason for offering to aid him, it was at least a believable one.
“We can discuss details later. For now, how about we get you settled in?” Jamshid waved his hand and a dozen servants came out of the adjacent halls to usher Leon’s party further into the estate. Leon almost declined, reasoning that his time was precious. However, he wound up accepting, and his party was shown to an extensive wing of the estate where they could all rest and plan comfortably.
Their time to rest didn’t last even an hour before a party of Azadan arrived at the estate, led by the Presiding Magus himself, Manuchehr. They didn’t ask to meet him right away, but Leon at least noted their arrival and their meeting with Jamshid, which seemed rather tense even before they entered a private room with strong wards through which he couldn’t eavesdrop without alerting the room’s occupants.
Still, hardly half an hour passed before a servant was dispatched from the room to fetch him. Despite the request for Leon to join the meeting alone, he insisted on Icarius joining him, and the servant was in no position to refuse him, despite several increasingly half-hearted attempts to dissuade him from bringing the former Director to this meeting.
Still, there were no complaints, though a few dirty looks, when Leon and Icarius were shown into the plain meeting room.
It was as opulent a place as the rest of the estate, being a round room with an equally round table in the center, at which twenty people could sit. All but one of those seats were filled, though Jamshid quickly gave an order for another to be brought in for Icarius. On the floor around the table was a mosaic of flowers and grass, while the walls were covered in frescoes of Shatufan’s environs, with the relatively long and thin Finger Lake the city sat next to featuring prominently.
“Leon of House Raime,” Manuchehr stated in the city’s native language, “you have come to our city for Aurichalcum, it seems.”
“Not wasting time with pleasantries, I see,” Leon said in Nexus common with a cheeky grin sent Icarius’ way. “Yes, I’ve come to trade.”
“Your request to trade is denied,” Manuchehr coldly declared, and several Azadan, including Jamshid, immediately leaped to their feet.
“That was never decided!” Jamshid shouted.
“You have no authority to do that!”
“You overstep!”
“How dare you speak for us without discussion!”
Of the nineteen Azadan, only four of them spoke in his defense.
Manuchehr glared dismissively at each of them before turning his disdainful gaze back to Leon. “It is the opinion of this city that you are a bad investment. We will not be antagonizing the Ocean Lords. You have until midnight to leave this city, under pain of imprisonment and extradition to Despot Terris.”
A vicious grin spread across Leon’s face as the four who spoke in his defense began to shout even more, only for those who supported Manuchehr’s decision, including another tenth-tier mage rivaling Jamshid’s power, to in turn shout them down.
“That’s it, then?” he asked in a moment of relative silence. “You refuse to even hear what I have to offer?”
Manuchehr sneered. “No one cares for your pathetic city, ‘King’ Leon. You had one interesting product, but that alone is not enough for us to risk our city to assist you. It was barely enough to give you what little Aurichalcum we had left over that wasn’t snapped up by wealthier and more deserving partners.”
Manuchehr rose from his seat, as did the other fourteen who were still seated.
“Midnight, ‘King’. Do not forget. If you are not gone from this city by then, then we will have no choice but to take more decisive action against you.” His eyes briefly flickered to Jamshid. “And anyone harboring you.”
Without another word, Manuchehr and most of the visiting Azadan left, though not without a few rude parting words exchanged between them and Jamshid and the other three supporters who remained behind.
When the doors closed behind them, leaving the meeting room mostly empty, Jamshid sighed. “Apologies, King Leon. I did not think this meeting would go so poorly. I did not expect them to immediately agree to trade, but neither did I expect our Presiding Magus to make such outrageous decisions without consulting the full assembly of Azadan.”
“I… am not surprised,” Leon said a little dejectedly as he sent a single wordless glance Icarius’ way. The former Director only smiled bitterly and subtly shrugged. “This was never going to be quite so easy…”
The Presiding Magus was attempting to force him out of the city without providing what he needed. Leon could hardly blame him, but that didn’t erase the fact that he needed what Shatufan had to offer.
‘It seems I must consider other options to get what is needed…’
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