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@quilliander

natty | 18+

172 posts

natty + any pronouns + main blog

#about the writer.#hi hi!! my main blog is linked above :] thank you for visiting

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

In Shuonun's kingdom, a month passed quickly. The citizens of Porvira celebrated hedonistically. Now that wartime rations were over and imports could flow into the country, wine and spirits were in no short supply.

After a week of parties in the streets, farmers moved back into wartorn areas to try and work the land and prepare for the planting season. Fishermen went back out into the shared rivers and started to fish again.

No one ventured near Alex's kingdom from Shuonun's.

Trade began moving quickly in Alexander's kingdom, and for the first time in a long while, the sun seemed to shine all the brighter. Even Pierre, well known as having come from a long line of serious faced men, could be found to crack a smile every so often.

Alexander waited for some time before writing to Shuonun again, admitting in his parchment that there was still struggle within his kingdom and that there had been a recent bout of protests against the current treaty terms. However, the king added to his letter an offering to ride over to Shuonun's kingdom this time, saving him 'some trouble.'"

Shuonun wrote back that Alex was welcome in his kingdom any time. He told him that his visit would be expected and instructed him to give some warning before he came so that there would be a proper welcome prepared for him.

Alexander wrote back quickly, the ink smearing where he forgot his left handedness; in his parchment, he detailed his expected arrival in the following month and how he'd leave charge of affairs to his advisor for 'however long is needed.'

When he did arrive, alone as promised, the king still looked worn out, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes. Alexander made sure to pull his horse to a stop in a forested area, knowing the possible consequences of riding through town.

Shuonun had said he would send an escort, but he was to excited for Alex's arrival. He was waiting there in the forest for Alex himself when he arrived. He clasped his hands together at the sight of his old adversary and beamed at him.

"Welcome!" he said. "I have a small entourage waiting outside the forest for us. They will escort us safely through town. No one will know your identity. I swear it on my life."

Alexander didn't beam back, still aware that Shuonun and him were previously sworn enemies. However, he politely nodded with a small smile.

"Hopefully your entourage isn't a small army meant to kill me...or your brother, I don't believe he's too fond of me."

Adjusting his cloak, Alexander cleared his throat before motioning to the town as if to silently express his desire to keep moving. He didn't inquire on how his identity would be disguised, even when he glimpsed a flyer plastered to a lamppost with words concerning his kingdom that weren't particularly kind.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

In Shuonun's kingdom, a month passed quickly. The citizens of Porvira celebrated hedonistically. Now that wartime rations were over and imports could flow into the country, wine and spirits were in no short supply.

After a week of parties in the streets, farmers moved back into wartorn areas to try and work the land and prepare for the planting season. Fishermen went back out into the shared rivers and started to fish again.

No one ventured near Alex's kingdom from Shuonun's.

Trade began moving quickly in Alexander's kingdom, and for the first time in a long while, the sun seemed to shine all the brighter. Even Pierre, well known as having come from a long line of serious faced men, could be found to crack a smile every so often.

Alexander waited for some time before writing to Shuonun again, admitting in his parchment that there was still struggle within his kingdom and that there had been a recent bout of protests against the current treaty terms. However, the king added to his letter an offering to ride over to Shuonun's kingdom this time, saving him 'some trouble.'"

Shuonun wrote back that Alex was welcome in his kingdom any time. He told him that his visit would be expected and instructed him to give some warning before he came so that there would be a proper welcome prepared for him.

Alexander wrote back quickly, the ink smearing where he forgot his left handedness; in his parchment, he detailed his expected arrival in the following month and how he'd leave charge of affairs to his advisor for 'however long is needed.'

When he did arrive, alone as promised, the king still looked worn out, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes. Alexander made sure to pull his horse to a stop in a forested area, knowing the possible consequences of riding through town.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

In Shuonun's kingdom, a month passed quickly. The citizens of Porvira celebrated hedonistically. Now that wartime rations were over and imports could flow into the country, wine and spirits were in no short supply.

After a week of parties in the streets, farmers moved back into wartorn areas to try and work the land and prepare for the planting season. Fishermen went back out into the shared rivers and started to fish again.

No one ventured near Alex's kingdom from Shuonun's.

Trade began moving quickly in Alexander's kingdom, and for the first time in a long while, the sun seemed to shine all the brighter. Even Pierre, well known as having come from a long line of serious faced men, could be found to crack a smile every so often.

Alexander waited for some time before writing to Shuonun again, admitting in his parchment that there was still struggle within his kingdom and that there had been a recent bout of protests against the current treaty terms. However, the king added to his letter an offering to ride over to Shuonun's kingdom this time, saving him 'some trouble.'"

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Sarpedon stiffened when addressed. His eyes darted nervously to his brother. "I go where he goes," he said quietly. His voice tried to command respect. "My age does not negate my responsibility."

Shuonun rested a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. Sarpedon eased under the touch, before trying to shrug the hand off.

Shuonun cleared his throat. "We've been travelling all night," he said. "I'd like to have our negotiations underway."

Alexander could've cried when he heard Sarpedon respond in that way, but years of royal conditioning and the understanding that he himself was taught to also respond that way caused him to nod.

Motioning for the rival pair to sit down, he then gestured at his royal advisor with a level, "Pierre will be watching negotiations on my end; he is to also remain neutral, and his loyalties lie not only to my kingdom but another."

"Now, I cannot ask for armies or supplies back, for one cannot bring back dead or burned things. However, my kingdom would like twenty percent of your trade deals with kingdoms to the North; during the most recent battles, your kingdom cut off our access, and we haven't had fresh shipments of grain or dairy in over two years because of that. Furthermore, on the topic of trade deals, you are to tell your army to back off of the mines to the East of my kingdom."

"It's obvious the metals you extract are used to create more weaponry which is then used to push back my armies from reaching the mines...and so on."

As Alexander laid out more and more terms, he appeared to grow more confident, posture straightening and eyes remaining entirely fixed on Shuonun rather than flitting to Pierre.

Pierre himself watched the proceedings with what appeared to be almost boredom, as if he found himself better than such negotiations. When his gaze did land on Shuonun every so often, it was to gauge his response to what Alexander was saying.

Sarpedon looked to his brother and mirrored his actions with only seconds of delay.

Shuonun shook his head. "Ten percent," Shuonun said. "Of our trade with the Northern kingdom of Fandelver. I can yield ten percent. Let us not forget, Fandelver chose my kingdom's friendship over yours because it was more beneficial to them. My people need not be punished for that. As for the mines of the Eastern kingdom of Lombei, once the war is over my army will withdraw from that region. That does not mean I have no vested interest in trading with Lombei for precious metals. There is much rebuilding to be done on the soil of my homeland and we need iron just as badly as you do. Or have you forgotten how many acres of my country have been burned as well?"

Shuonun pushed a parchment across the table toward Alexander.

"My terms are simple. I require our nations to do trade with one another without tariffs. Specifically, I want to trade lumber from your country and wool from my own with zero percent tariffs for a period of ten years while rebuilding efforts take place. After that period, taxes on goods crossing our borders can be re-negotiated. My willingness to allow tariffs will depend on how our rebuilding is going at that time. Aside from the trade, I require no interference on your part when my delegates make their way to Lombei to negotiate. I also require your military to make no camps within five kilometres of my borders."

Alexander, much to his advisor's dismay, almost immediately forgot his manners and shook his head with an incredulous, "these terms bleed my kingdom fuc-exceptionally dry."

Backtracking, he then explained that he wanted thirteen percent of trade with Fandelver and that he couldn't control his army to that extent. However, by the end of the day, when the sun had set, Alexander finally agreed to twelve percent of trade with the Northern kingdom and settled on a few other terms.

By then, his crown had slid to the side a little, and his hair had come undone from its tightly wound wrap. It was obvious that both parties were exhausted, and it was when Alexander's eyes fell to Sarpedon that his face softened.

"It appears that we're not fully finished, but I must insist we pause to eat or at least stretch our legs; Pierre is able to take Prince Sarpedon to see the gardens while you and I discuss a bit more? If you insist on remaining together, at least allow me to give you a small tour."

Shuonun opened his mouth to answer but Sarpedon jumped to attention first.

"I go where my brother goes," he said. "I want to be no further than his arm's length."

Shuonun leaned down to speak as privately with his brother as he could. "Your safety has been guaranteed," he whispered. "You have nothing to fear."

Sarpedon shook his head. "I'm not worried for myself. Once I'm not there, what's stopping him from culling you? I have buried one brother," he hissed. "I will not let them have you as well."

Shuonun's eyes widened. "His majesty Alexander has not threatened me once," he murmured darkly. "We are here now because of his grace and his desire for peace. Do not embarass me again. Apologize for your insolence now."

Alexander looked away when he overheard Sarpedon, pretending to adjust his crown in the reflection of a nearby window. Then instructing Pierre to attend to other duties, the king swiveled on his heel to face the two brothers.

"... If you'll follow me, I have a few rooms to show you and members of the court who are...eager to meet you."

Alexander was lying slightly when he said there were others in his kingdom that wanted to meet Shuonun. However, even those who had family slain in the war were at least polite. What was most noticeable was the lack of laughter anywhere and how everyone and everything looked rather tired. Even rooms meant to be displayed for their extravagance were missing that extra flair. Furthermore, when dinner was offered, there were no bread products, and Alexander paused three quarters of the way in to offer food to his servants.

He looked at Shuonun at that moment as if daring him to comment, hand gripping his fork all the more tightly and teeth gritted. When he didn't immediately do so, the king kept eating before finally rising with a polite, "I don't believe we'll get any more negotiations done tonight, and it's too dark for you both to ride back; if you'd like to retire within the castle walls, please be my guests...though I understand if you feel there is nothing preventing me from 'culling you.'"

"Pray, forgive my brother," Shuonun said as he stared into his plate. "Don't take his suspicion personally. He is a frightened child who has only known war. I hope that through our example, he becomes more trusting. You have been extremely hospitable to us both. I feel at ease in your home and have no problem sleeping here. We can continue our negotiations in the morning."

Shuonun raised his eyes to meet Sarpedon's. Then, he turned to look at Alex properly.

"If I may ask for one more accommodation: I think my brother would be comfortable enough to sleep only if we share a room."

Sarpedon looked down at his feet but did not argue.

Alexander replied that he "assumed that would be the case" before motioning for his servants to go "prepare a singular room, one fit for our royal guests."

True to his word, Alexander did not speak about negotiations the rest of the evening, though he didn't discuss anything below surface level. Although he tried to appear polite and mature, it was obvious he still didn't trust the other kingdom.

The only indication that he was willing to let his guard down slightly was his state early next morning, yawning every so often during breakfast and appearing to need multiple cups of coffee to finally awaken fully. Similar to the day before, he insisted on only his and Shuonun's advisor participating in the discussions.

From Alexander's perspective, they didn't get much more done that day, but the man didn't seem to mind; in fact, it almost seemed like a distraction from how empty of sound the castle appeared to be. Toward the end of the second day, Alexander admitted that his "brother would be faring much better with this, he is...was a skilled negotiator."

"Do you plan to return to your kingdom this evening, now that the first round of negotiations have concluded?"

"Were my brother here in my stead," Shuonun said. "I fear you would have drawn blades by now. Stefan was more a warrior than I. He was also more fearful than I. I am not afraid to admit he harboured no love for you or your people. He did not trust your kingdom, right down to its very soil. He never could trust anyone after our father's death."

Shuonun cleared his throat. "I shall," he said. "I think Sarpedon will jump out of his skin if he spends another night across your border. I ask you once more, please do not take offense to his ignorance."

Shuonun paused, and then added, "I am very pleased with the work we have done together. Peace is within our grasp. The fighting is over. I am confident that you and I can build a relationship of trust and respect."

Nodding, Alexander extended his hand for a handshake before realizing how informal it must've looked. Quickly withdrawing it, he settled on another nod before politely explaining that he knew Shuonun's brother and that, "he was more of a warrior than my sister, certainly; he ran his sword through her throat a few years prior."

"Do not fret about ignorance, we both would've acted the same a few years prior and with less diplomacy training."

Instead of instructing someone to show them out, Alexander himself led them out of the castle, instructing the royal pair on ways to exit the kingdom gates without being noticed. He didn't make any mention of further meetings, though he wasn't able to stop a small, "will I see you again?" from slipping out.

Face flushing, it was obvious that he was...lonely. Alexander was still new to being king, and he desperately wished he and Shuonun were close enough to talk about it.

"Of course," Shuonun answered. "Soon, I expect. We'll certainly need to negotiate again when the celebrations end and the problems of peace arrise. I think we'll reunite by the end of the month."

"So I am to break the news to my kingdom that peace is upon us, yes?" Alexander replied with a hint of a smile as if suddenly realizing that perhaps he wasn't doing everything wrong as the new king of a wartorn nation.

Not wanting to hear anything else, he quickly made an excuse about "needing to tend to royal matters" before turning on his heel; however, he couldn't help but let out what could've been an excited noise as he hurried back.

The king wasted no time breaking the news, though nobody was keen when he revealed that negotiations would still be underway, and there was a plan to open the borders by the end of the month. Although no citizen was planning on relocating, the king still offered deals to anybody who wanted to relocate to the rival kingdom.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Sarpedon stiffened when addressed. His eyes darted nervously to his brother. "I go where he goes," he said quietly. His voice tried to command respect. "My age does not negate my responsibility."

Shuonun rested a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. Sarpedon eased under the touch, before trying to shrug the hand off.

Shuonun cleared his throat. "We've been travelling all night," he said. "I'd like to have our negotiations underway."

Alexander could've cried when he heard Sarpedon respond in that way, but years of royal conditioning and the understanding that he himself was taught to also respond that way caused him to nod.

Motioning for the rival pair to sit down, he then gestured at his royal advisor with a level, "Pierre will be watching negotiations on my end; he is to also remain neutral, and his loyalties lie not only to my kingdom but another."

"Now, I cannot ask for armies or supplies back, for one cannot bring back dead or burned things. However, my kingdom would like twenty percent of your trade deals with kingdoms to the North; during the most recent battles, your kingdom cut off our access, and we haven't had fresh shipments of grain or dairy in over two years because of that. Furthermore, on the topic of trade deals, you are to tell your army to back off of the mines to the East of my kingdom."

"It's obvious the metals you extract are used to create more weaponry which is then used to push back my armies from reaching the mines...and so on."

As Alexander laid out more and more terms, he appeared to grow more confident, posture straightening and eyes remaining entirely fixed on Shuonun rather than flitting to Pierre.

Pierre himself watched the proceedings with what appeared to be almost boredom, as if he found himself better than such negotiations. When his gaze did land on Shuonun every so often, it was to gauge his response to what Alexander was saying.

Sarpedon looked to his brother and mirrored his actions with only seconds of delay.

Shuonun shook his head. "Ten percent," Shuonun said. "Of our trade with the Northern kingdom of Fandelver. I can yield ten percent. Let us not forget, Fandelver chose my kingdom's friendship over yours because it was more beneficial to them. My people need not be punished for that. As for the mines of the Eastern kingdom of Lombei, once the war is over my army will withdraw from that region. That does not mean I have no vested interest in trading with Lombei for precious metals. There is much rebuilding to be done on the soil of my homeland and we need iron just as badly as you do. Or have you forgotten how many acres of my country have been burned as well?"

Shuonun pushed a parchment across the table toward Alexander.

"My terms are simple. I require our nations to do trade with one another without tariffs. Specifically, I want to trade lumber from your country and wool from my own with zero percent tariffs for a period of ten years while rebuilding efforts take place. After that period, taxes on goods crossing our borders can be re-negotiated. My willingness to allow tariffs will depend on how our rebuilding is going at that time. Aside from the trade, I require no interference on your part when my delegates make their way to Lombei to negotiate. I also require your military to make no camps within five kilometres of my borders."

Alexander, much to his advisor's dismay, almost immediately forgot his manners and shook his head with an incredulous, "these terms bleed my kingdom fuc-exceptionally dry."

Backtracking, he then explained that he wanted thirteen percent of trade with Fandelver and that he couldn't control his army to that extent. However, by the end of the day, when the sun had set, Alexander finally agreed to twelve percent of trade with the Northern kingdom and settled on a few other terms.

By then, his crown had slid to the side a little, and his hair had come undone from its tightly wound wrap. It was obvious that both parties were exhausted, and it was when Alexander's eyes fell to Sarpedon that his face softened.

"It appears that we're not fully finished, but I must insist we pause to eat or at least stretch our legs; Pierre is able to take Prince Sarpedon to see the gardens while you and I discuss a bit more? If you insist on remaining together, at least allow me to give you a small tour."

Shuonun opened his mouth to answer but Sarpedon jumped to attention first.

"I go where my brother goes," he said. "I want to be no further than his arm's length."

Shuonun leaned down to speak as privately with his brother as he could. "Your safety has been guaranteed," he whispered. "You have nothing to fear."

Sarpedon shook his head. "I'm not worried for myself. Once I'm not there, what's stopping him from culling you? I have buried one brother," he hissed. "I will not let them have you as well."

Shuonun's eyes widened. "His majesty Alexander has not threatened me once," he murmured darkly. "We are here now because of his grace and his desire for peace. Do not embarass me again. Apologize for your insolence now."

Alexander looked away when he overheard Sarpedon, pretending to adjust his crown in the reflection of a nearby window. Then instructing Pierre to attend to other duties, the king swiveled on his heel to face the two brothers.

"... If you'll follow me, I have a few rooms to show you and members of the court who are...eager to meet you."

Alexander was lying slightly when he said there were others in his kingdom that wanted to meet Shuonun. However, even those who had family slain in the war were at least polite. What was most noticeable was the lack of laughter anywhere and how everyone and everything looked rather tired. Even rooms meant to be displayed for their extravagance were missing that extra flair. Furthermore, when dinner was offered, there were no bread products, and Alexander paused three quarters of the way in to offer food to his servants.

He looked at Shuonun at that moment as if daring him to comment, hand gripping his fork all the more tightly and teeth gritted. When he didn't immediately do so, the king kept eating before finally rising with a polite, "I don't believe we'll get any more negotiations done tonight, and it's too dark for you both to ride back; if you'd like to retire within the castle walls, please be my guests...though I understand if you feel there is nothing preventing me from 'culling you.'"

"Pray, forgive my brother," Shuonun said as he stared into his plate. "Don't take his suspicion personally. He is a frightened child who has only known war. I hope that through our example, he becomes more trusting. You have been extremely hospitable to us both. I feel at ease in your home and have no problem sleeping here. We can continue our negotiations in the morning."

Shuonun raised his eyes to meet Sarpedon's. Then, he turned to look at Alex properly.

"If I may ask for one more accommodation: I think my brother would be comfortable enough to sleep only if we share a room."

Sarpedon looked down at his feet but did not argue.

Alexander replied that he "assumed that would be the case" before motioning for his servants to go "prepare a singular room, one fit for our royal guests."

True to his word, Alexander did not speak about negotiations the rest of the evening, though he didn't discuss anything below surface level. Although he tried to appear polite and mature, it was obvious he still didn't trust the other kingdom.

The only indication that he was willing to let his guard down slightly was his state early next morning, yawning every so often during breakfast and appearing to need multiple cups of coffee to finally awaken fully. Similar to the day before, he insisted on only his and Shuonun's advisor participating in the discussions.

From Alexander's perspective, they didn't get much more done that day, but the man didn't seem to mind; in fact, it almost seemed like a distraction from how empty of sound the castle appeared to be. Toward the end of the second day, Alexander admitted that his "brother would be faring much better with this, he is...was a skilled negotiator."

"Do you plan to return to your kingdom this evening, now that the first round of negotiations have concluded?"

"Were my brother here in my stead," Shuonun said. "I fear you would have drawn blades by now. Stefan was more a warrior than I. He was also more fearful than I. I am not afraid to admit he harboured no love for you or your people. He did not trust your kingdom, right down to its very soil. He never could trust anyone after our father's death."

Shuonun cleared his throat. "I shall," he said. "I think Sarpedon will jump out of his skin if he spends another night across your border. I ask you once more, please do not take offense to his ignorance."

Shuonun paused, and then added, "I am very pleased with the work we have done together. Peace is within our grasp. The fighting is over. I am confident that you and I can build a relationship of trust and respect."

Nodding, Alexander extended his hand for a handshake before realizing how informal it must've looked. Quickly withdrawing it, he settled on another nod before politely explaining that he knew Shuonun's brother and that, "he was more of a warrior than my sister, certainly; he ran his sword through her throat a few years prior."

"Do not fret about ignorance, we both would've acted the same a few years prior and with less diplomacy training."

Instead of instructing someone to show them out, Alexander himself led them out of the castle, instructing the royal pair on ways to exit the kingdom gates without being noticed. He didn't make any mention of further meetings, though he wasn't able to stop a small, "will I see you again?" from slipping out.

Face flushing, it was obvious that he was...lonely. Alexander was still new to being king, and he desperately wished he and Shuonun were close enough to talk about it.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Sarpedon stiffened when addressed. His eyes darted nervously to his brother. "I go where he goes," he said quietly. His voice tried to command respect. "My age does not negate my responsibility."

Shuonun rested a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. Sarpedon eased under the touch, before trying to shrug the hand off.

Shuonun cleared his throat. "We've been travelling all night," he said. "I'd like to have our negotiations underway."

Alexander could've cried when he heard Sarpedon respond in that way, but years of royal conditioning and the understanding that he himself was taught to also respond that way caused him to nod.

Motioning for the rival pair to sit down, he then gestured at his royal advisor with a level, "Pierre will be watching negotiations on my end; he is to also remain neutral, and his loyalties lie not only to my kingdom but another."

"Now, I cannot ask for armies or supplies back, for one cannot bring back dead or burned things. However, my kingdom would like twenty percent of your trade deals with kingdoms to the North; during the most recent battles, your kingdom cut off our access, and we haven't had fresh shipments of grain or dairy in over two years because of that. Furthermore, on the topic of trade deals, you are to tell your army to back off of the mines to the East of my kingdom."

"It's obvious the metals you extract are used to create more weaponry which is then used to push back my armies from reaching the mines...and so on."

As Alexander laid out more and more terms, he appeared to grow more confident, posture straightening and eyes remaining entirely fixed on Shuonun rather than flitting to Pierre.

Pierre himself watched the proceedings with what appeared to be almost boredom, as if he found himself better than such negotiations. When his gaze did land on Shuonun every so often, it was to gauge his response to what Alexander was saying.

Sarpedon looked to his brother and mirrored his actions with only seconds of delay.

Shuonun shook his head. "Ten percent," Shuonun said. "Of our trade with the Northern kingdom of Fandelver. I can yield ten percent. Let us not forget, Fandelver chose my kingdom's friendship over yours because it was more beneficial to them. My people need not be punished for that. As for the mines of the Eastern kingdom of Lombei, once the war is over my army will withdraw from that region. That does not mean I have no vested interest in trading with Lombei for precious metals. There is much rebuilding to be done on the soil of my homeland and we need iron just as badly as you do. Or have you forgotten how many acres of my country have been burned as well?"

Shuonun pushed a parchment across the table toward Alexander.

"My terms are simple. I require our nations to do trade with one another without tariffs. Specifically, I want to trade lumber from your country and wool from my own with zero percent tariffs for a period of ten years while rebuilding efforts take place. After that period, taxes on goods crossing our borders can be re-negotiated. My willingness to allow tariffs will depend on how our rebuilding is going at that time. Aside from the trade, I require no interference on your part when my delegates make their way to Lombei to negotiate. I also require your military to make no camps within five kilometres of my borders."

Alexander, much to his advisor's dismay, almost immediately forgot his manners and shook his head with an incredulous, "these terms bleed my kingdom fuc-exceptionally dry."

Backtracking, he then explained that he wanted thirteen percent of trade with Fandelver and that he couldn't control his army to that extent. However, by the end of the day, when the sun had set, Alexander finally agreed to twelve percent of trade with the Northern kingdom and settled on a few other terms.

By then, his crown had slid to the side a little, and his hair had come undone from its tightly wound wrap. It was obvious that both parties were exhausted, and it was when Alexander's eyes fell to Sarpedon that his face softened.

"It appears that we're not fully finished, but I must insist we pause to eat or at least stretch our legs; Pierre is able to take Prince Sarpedon to see the gardens while you and I discuss a bit more? If you insist on remaining together, at least allow me to give you a small tour."

Shuonun opened his mouth to answer but Sarpedon jumped to attention first.

"I go where my brother goes," he said. "I want to be no further than his arm's length."

Shuonun leaned down to speak as privately with his brother as he could. "Your safety has been guaranteed," he whispered. "You have nothing to fear."

Sarpedon shook his head. "I'm not worried for myself. Once I'm not there, what's stopping him from culling you? I have buried one brother," he hissed. "I will not let them have you as well."

Shuonun's eyes widened. "His majesty Alexander has not threatened me once," he murmured darkly. "We are here now because of his grace and his desire for peace. Do not embarass me again. Apologize for your insolence now."

Alexander looked away when he overheard Sarpedon, pretending to adjust his crown in the reflection of a nearby window. Then instructing Pierre to attend to other duties, the king swiveled on his heel to face the two brothers.

"... If you'll follow me, I have a few rooms to show you and members of the court who are...eager to meet you."

Alexander was lying slightly when he said there were others in his kingdom that wanted to meet Shuonun. However, even those who had family slain in the war were at least polite. What was most noticeable was the lack of laughter anywhere and how everyone and everything looked rather tired. Even rooms meant to be displayed for their extravagance were missing that extra flair. Furthermore, when dinner was offered, there were no bread products, and Alexander paused three quarters of the way in to offer food to his servants.

He looked at Shuonun at that moment as if daring him to comment, hand gripping his fork all the more tightly and teeth gritted. When he didn't immediately do so, the king kept eating before finally rising with a polite, "I don't believe we'll get any more negotiations done tonight, and it's too dark for you both to ride back; if you'd like to retire within the castle walls, please be my guests...though I understand if you feel there is nothing preventing me from 'culling you.'"

"Pray, forgive my brother," Shuonun said as he stared into his plate. "Don't take his suspicion personally. He is a frightened child who has only known war. I hope that through our example, he becomes more trusting. You have been extremely hospitable to us both. I feel at ease in your home and have no problem sleeping here. We can continue our negotiations in the morning."

Shuonun raised his eyes to meet Sarpedon's. Then, he turned to look at Alex properly.

"If I may ask for one more accommodation: I think my brother would be comfortable enough to sleep only if we share a room."

Sarpedon looked down at his feet but did not argue.

Alexander replied that he "assumed that would be the case" before motioning for his servants to go "prepare a singular room, one fit for our royal guests."

True to his word, Alexander did not speak about negotiations the rest of the evening, though he didn't discuss anything below surface level. Although he tried to appear polite and mature, it was obvious he still didn't trust the other kingdom.

The only indication that he was willing to let his guard down slightly was his state early next morning, yawning every so often during breakfast and appearing to need multiple cups of coffee to finally awaken fully. Similar to the day before, he insisted on only his and Shuonun's advisor participating in the discussions.

From Alexander's perspective, they didn't get much more done that day, but the man didn't seem to mind; in fact, it almost seemed like a distraction from how empty of sound the castle appeared to be. Toward the end of the second day, Alexander admitted that his "brother would be faring much better with this, he is...was a skilled negotiator."

"Do you plan to return to your kingdom this evening, now that the first round of negotiations have concluded?"

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Sarpedon stiffened when addressed. His eyes darted nervously to his brother. "I go where he goes," he said quietly. His voice tried to command respect. "My age does not negate my responsibility."

Shuonun rested a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. Sarpedon eased under the touch, before trying to shrug the hand off.

Shuonun cleared his throat. "We've been travelling all night," he said. "I'd like to have our negotiations underway."

Alexander could've cried when he heard Sarpedon respond in that way, but years of royal conditioning and the understanding that he himself was taught to also respond that way caused him to nod.

Motioning for the rival pair to sit down, he then gestured at his royal advisor with a level, "Pierre will be watching negotiations on my end; he is to also remain neutral, and his loyalties lie not only to my kingdom but another."

"Now, I cannot ask for armies or supplies back, for one cannot bring back dead or burned things. However, my kingdom would like twenty percent of your trade deals with kingdoms to the North; during the most recent battles, your kingdom cut off our access, and we haven't had fresh shipments of grain or dairy in over two years because of that. Furthermore, on the topic of trade deals, you are to tell your army to back off of the mines to the East of my kingdom."

"It's obvious the metals you extract are used to create more weaponry which is then used to push back my armies from reaching the mines...and so on."

As Alexander laid out more and more terms, he appeared to grow more confident, posture straightening and eyes remaining entirely fixed on Shuonun rather than flitting to Pierre.

Pierre himself watched the proceedings with what appeared to be almost boredom, as if he found himself better than such negotiations. When his gaze did land on Shuonun every so often, it was to gauge his response to what Alexander was saying.

Sarpedon looked to his brother and mirrored his actions with only seconds of delay.

Shuonun shook his head. "Ten percent," Shuonun said. "Of our trade with the Northern kingdom of Fandelver. I can yield ten percent. Let us not forget, Fandelver chose my kingdom's friendship over yours because it was more beneficial to them. My people need not be punished for that. As for the mines of the Eastern kingdom of Lombei, once the war is over my army will withdraw from that region. That does not mean I have no vested interest in trading with Lombei for precious metals. There is much rebuilding to be done on the soil of my homeland and we need iron just as badly as you do. Or have you forgotten how many acres of my country have been burned as well?"

Shuonun pushed a parchment across the table toward Alexander.

"My terms are simple. I require our nations to do trade with one another without tariffs. Specifically, I want to trade lumber from your country and wool from my own with zero percent tariffs for a period of ten years while rebuilding efforts take place. After that period, taxes on goods crossing our borders can be re-negotiated. My willingness to allow tariffs will depend on how our rebuilding is going at that time. Aside from the trade, I require no interference on your part when my delegates make their way to Lombei to negotiate. I also require your military to make no camps within five kilometres of my borders."

Alexander, much to his advisor's dismay, almost immediately forgot his manners and shook his head with an incredulous, "these terms bleed my kingdom fuc-exceptionally dry."

Backtracking, he then explained that he wanted thirteen percent of trade with Fandelver and that he couldn't control his army to that extent. However, by the end of the day, when the sun had set, Alexander finally agreed to twelve percent of trade with the Northern kingdom and settled on a few other terms.

By then, his crown had slid to the side a little, and his hair had come undone from its tightly wound wrap. It was obvious that both parties were exhausted, and it was when Alexander's eyes fell to Sarpedon that his face softened.

"It appears that we're not fully finished, but I must insist we pause to eat or at least stretch our legs; Pierre is able to take Prince Sarpedon to see the gardens while you and I discuss a bit more? If you insist on remaining together, at least allow me to give you a small tour."

Shuonun opened his mouth to answer but Sarpedon jumped to attention first.

"I go where my brother goes," he said. "I want to be no further than his arm's length."

Shuonun leaned down to speak as privately with his brother as he could. "Your safety has been guaranteed," he whispered. "You have nothing to fear."

Sarpedon shook his head. "I'm not worried for myself. Once I'm not there, what's stopping him from culling you? I have buried one brother," he hissed. "I will not let them have you as well."

Shuonun's eyes widened. "His majesty Alexander has not threatened me once," he murmured darkly. "We are here now because of his grace and his desire for peace. Do not embarass me again. Apologize for your insolence now."

Alexander looked away when he overheard Sarpedon, pretending to adjust his crown in the reflection of a nearby window. Then instructing Pierre to attend to other duties, the king swiveled on his heel to face the two brothers.

"... If you'll follow me, I have a few rooms to show you and members of the court who are...eager to meet you."

Alexander was lying slightly when he said there were others in his kingdom that wanted to meet Shuonun. However, even those who had family slain in the war were at least polite. What was most noticeable was the lack of laughter anywhere and how everyone and everything looked rather tired. Even rooms meant to be displayed for their extravagance were missing that extra flair. Furthermore, when dinner was offered, there were no bread products, and Alexander paused three quarters of the way in to offer food to his servants.

He looked at Shuonun at that moment as if daring him to comment, hand gripping his fork all the more tightly and teeth gritted. When he didn't immediately do so, the king kept eating before finally rising with a polite, "I don't believe we'll get any more negotiations done tonight, and it's too dark for you both to ride back; if you'd like to retire within the castle walls, please be my guests...though I understand if you feel there is nothing preventing me from 'culling you.'"

#uhm hello your dialogue is so slay

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Sarpedon stiffened when addressed. His eyes darted nervously to his brother. "I go where he goes," he said quietly. His voice tried to command respect. "My age does not negate my responsibility."

Shuonun rested a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. Sarpedon eased under the touch, before trying to shrug the hand off.

Shuonun cleared his throat. "We've been travelling all night," he said. "I'd like to have our negotiations underway."

Alexander could've cried when he heard Sarpedon respond in that way, but years of royal conditioning and the understanding that he himself was taught to also respond that way caused him to nod.

Motioning for the rival pair to sit down, he then gestured at his royal advisor with a level, "Pierre will be watching negotiations on my end; he is to also remain neutral, and his loyalties lie not only to my kingdom but another."

"Now, I cannot ask for armies or supplies back, for one cannot bring back dead or burned things. However, my kingdom would like twenty percent of your trade deals with kingdoms to the North; during the most recent battles, your kingdom cut off our access, and we haven't had fresh shipments of grain or dairy in over two years because of that. Furthermore, on the topic of trade deals, you are to tell your army to back off of the mines to the East of my kingdom."

"It's obvious the metals you extract are used to create more weaponry which is then used to push back my armies from reaching the mines...and so on."

As Alexander laid out more and more terms, he appeared to grow more confident, posture straightening and eyes remaining entirely fixed on Shuonun rather than flitting to Pierre.

Pierre himself watched the proceedings with what appeared to be almost boredom, as if he found himself better than such negotiations. When his gaze did land on Shuonun every so often, it was to gauge his response to what Alexander was saying.

Sarpedon looked to his brother and mirrored his actions with only seconds of delay.

Shuonun shook his head. "Ten percent," Shuonun said. "Of our trade with the Northern kingdom of Fandelver. I can yield ten percent. Let us not forget, Fandelver chose my kingdom's friendship over yours because it was more beneficial to them. My people need not be punished for that. As for the mines of the Eastern kingdom of Lombei, once the war is over my army will withdraw from that region. That does not mean I have no vested interest in trading with Lombei for precious metals. There is much rebuilding to be done on the soil of my homeland and we need iron just as badly as you do. Or have you forgotten how many acres of my country have been burned as well?"

Shuonun pushed a parchment across the table toward Alexander.

"My terms are simple. I require our nations to do trade with one another without tariffs. Specifically, I want to trade lumber from your country and wool from my own with zero percent tariffs for a period of ten years while rebuilding efforts take place. After that period, taxes on goods crossing our borders can be re-negotiated. My willingness to allow tariffs will depend on how our rebuilding is going at that time. Aside from the trade, I require no interference on your part when my delegates make their way to Lombei to negotiate. I also require your military to make no camps within five kilometres of my borders."

Alexander, much to his advisor's dismay, almost immediately forgot his manners and shook his head with an incredulous, "these terms bleed my kingdom fuc-exceptionally dry."

Backtracking, he then explained that he wanted thirteen percent of trade with Fandelver and that he couldn't control his army to that extent. However, by the end of the day, when the sun had set, Alexander finally agreed to twelve percent of trade with the Northern kingdom and settled on a few other terms.

By then, his crown had slid to the side a little, and his hair had come undone from its tightly wound wrap. It was obvious that both parties were exhausted, and it was when Alexander's eyes fell to Sarpedon that his face softened.

"It appears that we're not fully finished, but I must insist we pause to eat or at least stretch our legs; Pierre is able to take Prince Sarpedon to see the gardens while you and I discuss a bit more? If you insist on remaining together, at least allow me to give you a small tour."

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Sarpedon stiffened when addressed. His eyes darted nervously to his brother. "I go where he goes," he said quietly. His voice tried to command respect. "My age does not negate my responsibility."

Shuonun rested a hand on Sarpedon's shoulder. Sarpedon eased under the touch, before trying to shrug the hand off.

Shuonun cleared his throat. "We've been travelling all night," he said. "I'd like to have our negotiations underway."

Alexander could've cried when he heard Sarpedon respond in that way, but years of royal conditioning and the understanding that he himself was taught to also respond that way caused him to nod.

Motioning for the rival pair to sit down, he then gestured at his royal advisor with a level, "Pierre will be watching negotiations on my end; he is to also remain neutral, and his loyalties lie not only to my kingdom but another."

"Now, I cannot ask for armies or supplies back, for one cannot bring back dead or burned things. However, my kingdom would like twenty percent of your trade deals with kingdoms to the North; during the most recent battles, your kingdom cut off our access, and we haven't had fresh shipments of grain or dairy in over two years because of that. Furthermore, on the topic of trade deals, you are to tell your army to back off of the mines to the East of my kingdom."

"It's obvious the metals you extract are used to create more weaponry which is then used to push back my armies from reaching the mines...and so on."

As Alexander laid out more and more terms, he appeared to grow more confident, posture straightening and eyes remaining entirely fixed on Shuonun rather than flitting to Pierre.

Pierre himself watched the proceedings with what appeared to be almost boredom, as if he found himself better than such negotiations. When his gaze did land on Shuonun every so often, it was to gauge his response to what Alexander was saying.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Shuonun and Sarpedon arrived together on one horse at dawn. Alex had said morning. Shuonun had used the cover of night to leave his homeland and travel safely. Stopped at the gates, he climbed down first and helped his brother down after him.

The child only came up to Shuonun's midsection. He had the same wiley, white hair his brother had. His crown was too large for him and slipped around his forehead when his boots hit the ground. He held his brother's arm for half a second before he folded his hands behind his back.

Alexander's advisor was almost as young as the king himself, looking down at Shuonun and Sarpedon with an unreadable expression; when he did speak, it was quiet and mostly direction focused, motioning to halls with delicate and gloved hands.

The hands that accepted the two rival royals into the negotiation room were far less refined, despite them belonging to a king; Alexander's nails were bitten down to the quick, and he had smudges of pen on both. This manner of presentation extended down to his pants, which had mud stains on them that looked partially wiped away recently.

When Alexander caught sight of the both of them, he mumbled something about it being "far too early" before motioning for the both of them to sit. However, then thinking better of it, he turned to Sarpedon with an apprehensive, "would you like to be here? I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd actually be brought being so...young and all."

He didn't sound like much of a king as he talked to Shuonun's brother, biting his lip with what could've either been nervousness or holding himself back.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Shuonun shook it without hesitation.

"I will bring only my younger brother as a witness," he said. "Sarpedon was born long into this war. He has never been outside our kingdom's borders. Feel however you feel towards me but understand that my brother is blameless in this conflict. He is a child of fourteen but he is my next of kin and the only member of my court ranking high enough to bear witness to our treaty. Promise me that his safety is guaranteed and I will agree not to bring my soldiers."

Alexander's eyes softened as he heard about Sarpedon; he had heard rumors that the other kingdom had another heir other than Shuonun, and the king realized now why it was hard to find definite information- the last heir was a child.

"I will see to it myself that not a hair is touched on his head, nor that he is subjected to any talk of violence."

"Please arrive in two days time by the morning; if I'm not present at the gates, my royal advisor will be, and she will announce herself so you know she is not an assassin or disgruntled citizen."

Without another word, Alexander beckoned to his horse and mounted it, urging it in the direction of his kingdom. He knew it was rude to leave without a formal goodbye, but he also knew how much preparation was ahead of him.

Most of it wasn't even material, it was convincing his advisors that Shuonun wasn't a threat and that Alexander had the last say in anything despite newly being coronated. Furthermore, he struggled to keep his thoughts straight, barely able to sleep either night.

In the end, he sent his royal advisor to the gates, trusting her to not disclose anything and simply lead the rival king to the castle. She, of course, required countless promises of extra castle privileges and early vacation for such a simple request...which she received.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

"Let's not delay this any longer," Shuonun said. "I will prove my sincerity to you now. Take me back to your kingdom today. We will discuss terms in front of a witness. We will make and sign a treaty by morning light tomorrow, and we can do it on your soil, before your army."

Shaking his head with an incredulous, "you'd be shot down before the gates, even if I'm riding near you," Alexander thought for a moment before continuing.

"We shall meet in two days time, and before then I will draw up my end of the agreement, and you yours. Bring a witness from your royal court, and I shall have mine."

"Furthermore, do not bring any of your soldiers. I am aware that's asking for an immense level of trust, but I won't agree to meet again if you bring anyone extra."

With that, King Alexander held out a gloved hand for Shuonun to shake, aware that it was an improper way to end a royal meeting but not caring.

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

"You don't know," Shuonun breathed. "You can't know. Just as I can't know you'll accept my offer only to stab at my turned back. We just have to trust that we're both tired of the fighting, exhausted from the dying, and if we don't end this now we ourselves will perish soon enough."

Shuonun was never the pleading kind. Nevertheless, his voice took on a bargaining edge. He did not clasp his hands. He did not come to his knees, but he begged the way a king was permitted to beg. He begged with his eyes for Alex to hear him out.

Looking up at Shuonun, the bags under his eyes illuminated further by the late afternoon sun, Alexander paused for a moment before nodding.

"For a man to be reduced to pleading is concerning, but a king...frightening. You didn't write any terms of this agreement in your parchment, and I don't agree to anything that's not written down."

"What do you propose, another meeting to discuss terms? Furthermore, am I supposed to ride back to the kingdom and declare that as a new king, war is over, but perhaps not if the other party decides to stab me in the back?"

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

"An end to our torment," Shuonun said. "That's what we want. An end to this war. My kingdom wishes to stop holding its collective breath."

He stepped forward.

"I believe we can make an agreement between the two of us. My brother would not listen to you. He was stubborn. I buried him yesterday, and today I am here."

"How do I know you won't go back on your offer or use this as an opportunity to return to your land claiming that I've surrendered to you, kneeled with my head bowed in cowardice?," Alexander responded, crossing his arms.

"Perhaps if your kingdom was more civil in the past, we wouldn't be where we are today, sole heirs to our respective crowns."

Struggling to keep up his facade of anger, Alexander looked down at the ground and mumbled something about, "really wanting this to be over too, I would trade all that I have for my family back."

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

Shuonun looked up only when Alex finished speaking. He started to answer his question, but when he locked eyes with Alex he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're so much older than you were when I last saw you. And that was only a few years ago."

Alexander bit back a response about loss and grief taking that sort of toll on a person. Instead, letting a sharp burst of air out from in between his lips, he shook his head.

"I'm not here to picnic with you or make polite small talk, what does your kingdom desire from mine, besides our blood and tears?"

Prince Alexander knew that he eventually would be more pushed than nudged to the throne; although he wasn't the oldest, the previous heirs had either died or gone missing when traveling in the rival kingdom. Even when his kingdom wasn't actively at war, the prince still witnessed the effects of higher produce prices, less merchants traveling into town, parents keeping their children inside.

By year 20 of the war, there had been protests, and by year 30, bloody uprisings. More and more citizens were either drafted or volunteered to fight when a loved one either never returned or returned injured beyond belief. Although he didn't want to admit it, Alexander didn't hate those who wanted to rebel against the crown. Instead, he directed all of his hate against the rival kingdom, refusing to think of them as human- after all, they seemed to be the ones who started the war but acted as if Alexander's parents were the initiators.

How long had this damned war been going on? Had it started millenia before Shuonun was even born? Sometimes it felt like it. Sometimes he felt he could never remember, never fathom, a time when hatred for another had not blackened his heart. Those neighboring ghouls, those fiendish oppressors, those who had started this war in the first place, inspired great hatred in the young king.

He was king only as of that morning. His father had been slain some years prior, and his older brother had fallen on the battlefield a week previously. Shuonun was now the eldest member of his family, left with only a younger brother to protect. A younger bother, and an entire nation.

If was for their futures that he asked for an audience. He imagined, perhaps, there was a way to end the war. He just needed to uncover it. To do that, he needed to stand face to face with the head of the trecherous serpant that was his neighboring country. Only then could he lop off its head, brave its venom, and bring it whimpering down to reason with him.

Alexander had also been announced king just that morning, though there was no coronation. Instead, he stood on a battlefield while his brother's advisor wiped the blood off of the crown and placed it on the king's head. Averting his eyes from the body of his fallen sibling, he shakily instructed everyone to "keep moving" and listened as his new advisor instructed him on what came next.

What was even more unexpected was the parchment that was handed to him that afternoon, a letter from the kingdom who forced him to assume his current status. At first refusing to open it, it took a few hours and unyielding curiosity before Alexander eventually excused himself to his chambers and broke the seal.

At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him or that residual blood on the crown had clouded his vision. However, the parchment looked legitimate and the words even more so. The king didn't even tell anyone about the letter, knowing he would be stopped from writing a response that he then sent off with a courier.

His return letter wasn't by any means kind, but it was diplomatic. Alexander didn't put any emotion into it, feeling his enemy undeserving of even that. Instead, it listed a meeting date and time, including warning for the rival king, Shuonun, to not bring any of his army or 'protectors' with him.

All of Shuonun's advisors told him he was a fool to go alone but he insisted on it. In the end, he set off alone in plain clothes on a common looking horse. He arrived at the meeting place two hours before their set time without any weapons on him to speak of. He tied his horse by the reigns to a post and settled in to wait.

Alexander rode up a few minutes late, stopping himself from apologizing for his tardiness. He knew timeliness was a core tenant of kinghood, but he also knew rules were thrown out the window during war time.

Also dressed in plainclothes, the king almost immediately spotted Shuonun and prevented himself from looking away. They had come in contact a few times prior during other negotiations, but Alexander usually had a wall of advisors and his siblings in front of him. Therefore, when he cleared his throat to greet the rival king, it was with a slightly apprehensive, "Shuonun, right? Or do you prefer your title?"

"Are you here to talk about the war your family has created?"

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