‘Factionalism is beginning to root deeper within the Ascensionists, in part influenced by the undercurrents of the nation. Though I’m not certain that the shortages are reason enough for these political developments.’

‘When listening to the debates in the National Diet, there are talks by some of the more radical members of reforming the National Diet and the Council of One Hundred, and modifying the Ascensionist ideology along more liberal lines such as Praeteritum’s anarchy. On the opposite spectrum, there are those who want to censor the press, increase the role of the police, and give more power to the Secret Services. This tension certainly has room to grow.’

‘In other news, I have been called upon by Isaac Brunt to repay a debt within the following days. I requested a service, and on my behalf, he used his intelligence network to find what I asked for. When I return after my final exams, I shall explain my discoveries. I do not feel they are suitable to be discussed in cypher, nor in letter.’ - Excerpt from a letter Toran Rhosyn sent to Lucien Blodyn informing him of the conditions of Citadel, January 1263.

———

Gwyth bent over, reaching towards the bag, and passed it over to Lucien. It bobbed in his hand as he grew accustomed to its weight, and he pulled it towards himself while opening it. Lucien took the bound stack of papers out from within, placing it atop of the table over the sheets of paper that already lay on it.

Though it was bound, they were separated into three piles within by woven markers. The first contained an assortment of letters; once scrolled up pieces of paper rolled out and straightened; and blank sheets of paper. Lucien looked at the top of their page, checking to see the signature at its corner.

Though nondescript, it told him which correspondent of his had written the letter. They would often interchange cyphers to prevent all their information from being leaked if their letters were intercepted before it reached him.

“You may leave, though I will need you again shortly.” Lucien ordered, and Gwyth stood from his seat and left the room.

He heard footsteps, enhanced by the Channeler’s instruments, and heard a door click to the adjacent room. It entered into Gwyth’s own study, and a chair scraped against the wooden floorboards. Lucien waited for a moment, listening to hear if Gwyth left, but he remained working inside his own office.

Lucien then stood from his chair and walked over to a standing drawer on the other side of the room. The drawer was positioned below a gold leaf encrusted frame holding a bill within. It was the statute law detailing the Blodyn’s privileges as an Aristocratic Family of the Sword.

What was distinct about this statute was that it contained two different inks, and two different handwritings. This was the original statute provided to the Blodyn family after the War of Religious Lands, and thus when it was amended, so too was the original copy. The amendment stated that while the Blodyn family had transitioned into a House of the Robes, their right to raise a levied army remained, and they could choose when to enforce it if necessary.

Lucien’s eyes flickered to it, and he frowned slightly, before searching the drawer. For his family to have even temporarily rescinded their right to levy their own army irked him beyond belief, but there was nothing that he could do to change it. The decision was made before he took leadership of the Blodyn family.

While the bill expresses that the Blodyn’s could choose to enforce their right, if necessary, this wasn’t truly the case. There had been a tumultuous dialogue that erupted within Parliament over what specified a necessity worthy of the Blodyn’s to enforce it. This dialogue was not done by the Blodyns, but rather by those of the other Eight Great Families!

Lucien took out several tomes from within the drawer and took it back to his desk. This time he made space for it, collecting the various sheets of paper that were spread out, and stacked them away. He sighed slightly as he did so. He created far too many cyphers, and he could not remember them all. He flicked open all the tomes to specific pages and worked on cyphering the first letter.

The handwriting was written in a spider’s scrawl. Some words were written in a deep cursive, the letters curling into the next. Other words were written with separate strokes which formed the letters, choosing to write with broad and angular strokes. However, each change in style seemed to seamlessly flow into the next word.

What was important to focus on was one or two words on each page which contained words that merged the two styles. The letters alternated between the spider’s cursive and broad lettered script. As he slowly read the pages, the words formed a sentence in his mind that explained succinctly its message.

To those who would intercept the letter, it would seem that change in writing style was unintentional or even accidental for they may have written it over a long duration of time. Even if they noticed the pattern, they would not crack cypher without the other letters.

Lucien flicked through the letters, searching for more papers with the same signature in its corner. He pulled them out and laid them before him doing the same as he did to the previous. Eventually, they formed a coherent message that explained the timeline of events in Citadel from one of his officer’s perspective. He made note of what it said, before moving to the next signatures.

By the time Lucien had finished cyphering the stack of papers, an inch of the candle that lit the room had melted. Its flame danced above a puddle of liquid wax. More than once he had required the candle’s flame for its heat. The blank sheets of paper hid invisible messages that could only be read when warmth was applied to it.

He had called for Gwyth to return, and the door cracked open as the man entered once more. He sat in his seat with permission from Lucien, and conversation began shortly.

“Is there anything you wish to inform me of, Lord Lucien?” Gwyth asked bluntly.

“Indeed. Some of our works have seen positive steps forwards, for one being Citadel. However, other letters have revealed something more disturbing to me that might draw attention elsewhere for a while.” Lucien responded, his face slightly blanched.

“I suppose we can start with the positives,” Gwyth said dryly. “Has the situation in Citadel deteriorated as you’ve hoped? If I remember correctly, some of Toran’s letters should be within that bag.”

“Yes, they were. He brought back some useful information, though he has always been reliable. But, yes, the atmosphere in Citadel has grown tense over this month. Not only are the civilians scared, so too are the Councillors, yet they refuse to budge. Toran made note that this tension has led to the Citadel population arming themselves more frequently in public, though it is discreet. They have not moved to open carry yet, so there is still more to go.” Lucien replied.

“Aha! What a big change that is! Citadel’s public are disobeying the Councillor’s laws prohibiting Channeler’s weapons. Fascinating,” Gwyth shook his head with amusement. “Yet to even impose that stupid law in the capital city is beyond me.”

“Maybe, but some might find that better than our situation where we are forced to send our children away in order to protect them from assassination attempts by our enemies,” Lucien said grimly. “However, it makes sense if you think about it. It would be self-sabotage if anyone fought in the capital city with Channeler’s weapons. They wouldn’t want to destroy their manufacturing, would they?”

“I suppose so, but it still feels strange to me. For a nation that built and prides themselves on the fact that there isn’t anything that they wouldn’t do to get stronger, to never rebel against the prohibitions when first implemented, to now rebel against the Councillor’s laws, doesn’t conform to my understanding of logic.” Gwyth responded with doubt.

“The Delish have different understandings of rationality to us. While we may see a ban on Channeler’s weapons inside Pentref as a power grab by one of the other Houses, or another member of the tripartite of powers, Citadel see it differently. We view it as a necessity to have our weapons with us when in public to protect ourselves against internal threats, though from what I understand, the Delish saw those laws as a trade-off for Alchemical advancement. No doubt they saw it as a power grab, but it was a worthy sacrifice. However, now, they’re starting to no longer trust their government, and thus they are slowly disillusioned by the Council’s promises.” Lucien explained carefully, shifting his weight forwards in his chair.

“I suppose I understand that, though I don’t believe that the trade-off is as worth it as they seem to believe,” Gwyth leaned back in his chair, relaxing his arms on his lap. “Is there anything else worth mentioning about Citadel, or should we move onto the negatives?”

“Yes. I have received news that there are finally signs that our work there has seen some success, but it will take some time before we see the true fruits of our labour,” Lucien replied. “Despite our slow shifting of grain and timber exports away from Citadel to Praeteritum, the Council has not yet noticed the pressure that is building on their economy. My agents have heard, but also helped spread, discontent within the capital over the recent decline in their economy, and it seems to be gathering momentum. I find it astounding how short sighted those fools are, but it is to be expected.”

“They should feel the price rises soon, surely. Maybe they’ll feel the pinch then?” Gwyth acknowledged with jest.

“Prices should soon increase in most commodities, but save timber and grain, it won’t be our doing. Isaac Brunt has begun to add additional strain onto their economy by forcing Delish merchants under his control to sell their clothes abroad.” Lucien continued.

“When do you think they’ll start to apply political pressure? The conditions are near right for Isaac Brunt to take over, but the window should be small. If missed, they might not get another chance.” Gwyth asked.

“In due time,” Lucien said casually. “From what Toran has gathered from his bargaining with them, he believes that the Citadel Election will be when they move. By then, they can force through change as the right conditions have been set where the public will be accepting of a break in political system. The population is already tense due to the fear of Praeteritum, and with the added strain on the economy, which we hope to see turn into a commodity shortage, an incompetent government cannot survive.”

Lucien paused slightly in remembrance, then spoke again.

“Though Toran did note that he had to pay Isaac Brunt a favour for something in the next few days. I’m not sure what will come of it, but maybe there will be some political developments sooner than expected.”

“Either way, I don’t suppose that the situation in Citadel can last much longer, but that’s what I don’t understand. Why are we backing the Whigs over the incompetent incumbent Tory Councillors?” Gwyth questioned.

“Whatever do you mean? This is just a continuation of our foreign policy.” Lucien asked, playing dumb. He wanted to root out Gwyth’s concerns quickly.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? Do you not remember how overjoyed you were when we managed to get the Tories into power? It has been almost a dream to have a weak Council hold power for so long in Citadel, why would you want to remove them now?” Gwyth tapped his finger on the arm of the chair in impatience.

“Ah, I see,” Lucien smirked. “Well, Praeteritum has changed the board. A weak Council in Citadel would only increase our burdens. It is better for us to have a strong Citadel to share our responsibility against our shared enemy.” Lucien responded.

“A strong Citadel might result in them biting the hand that feeds them.” Gwyth shook his head in disagreement.

“That is true, but I don’t believe we risk that here. Even if the Whig Party do take power, they’ll inherit the same conditions that the Tory Party still preside over. They will have to negotiate with us once more to rid them of the commodity shortage. Who else can they go to? Praeteritum? Even they wouldn’t risk that.” Lucien smiled.

“But your conclusion is reliant on the fact that Citadel doesn’t solve their own agricultural problems. Once they are self-sufficient, and they can certainly do that with that… Alchemy… in time, then we return to the issue of a strong Citadel that will bite the hand that feeds them.” Gwyth folded his arms.

“You aren’t wrong, but neither are you right. Yes, they will be strong, and certainly will try to bite back at us in time, but they will be too entangled with us by then. Praeteritum will have finished consolidating their territory in Reinheit and will truly open their hostilities against us. It isn’t possible for Citadel to split their attention in a war between two juggernaut powers. If I were King Brenin, I would send someone out to sign a treaty with Citadel as soon as possible, at least that won’t be impeded by Parliament!” Lucien chucked; a hint of schadenfreude was in his laughter.

Gwyth shook his head gently, and Lucien thought that he now truly understood his ploy. Citadel would be forced to be Cymorth’s ally against a Praeteritum invasion, and there would be no way for them to stop it without risking self-destruction.

Even considering forming an alliance with Praeteritum would not save them, for there were countless precedents of Praeteritum betraying their peace and alliance treaties in pursuit of more land.

Unless Praeteritum was repelled, and a buffer state was formed between the three powers once more, the weaker Citadel be consistently under threat on both sides. It didn’t matter so much for Cymorth, they were the peak of civilisation and could withstand an invasion attempt for as long as necessary. Therefore, they would be the senior party within the negotiations, and it could possibly lead to them making a puppet state out of Citadel if the conditions were right.