December 22, 1640

Ceider, Cryseilies

The main hall of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was a grand space, designed to intimidate the neighboring nations. Today, it seemed to shrink under the weight of anticipation. At the end of the hall stood a door that led to Minister Tatchell’s office, where a meeting was underway.

“...After the introduction, we had formal discussions with the leader of the American delegation, Ambassador Anders,” Liraz explained. “We spoke about potential areas of cooperation but did not agree on anything conclusive yet. They’ve invited us for a tour of their homeland, a chance to observe their culture, economy, and military might firsthand. They seem quite eager to display their capabilities. I agreed to this proposal. I suggest we carefully select a team for this expedition. Not just diplomats, but also experts in magic, technology, and military tactics.”

Tatchell nodded, his mind turning over the implications of this invitation. This was an opportunity, no doubt, but it was also a potential pitfall. As Tatchell dismissed Liraz and prepared to bring this news to the Divine Chamber, he wondered about what sort of steps they would decide on taking. They would have to be very careful about how they approached this.

Entering the Divine Chamber, he prepared to deliver the news to King Geuge alongside the rest of the Divine family and a cohort of advisors, from General Affairs Minister Waydes to the Warrior King Minett. “Your Divine Highness,” Tatchell began, kneeling before the regal figure on the throne.

He relayed the details of the report compiled by Ambassador Liraz, sparing no detail. From the awe-inspiring display of American technology and the vivid landscape of their vast lands, to the revelation of their formidable military prowess, Tatchell recounted every observation and deduction made by Commander Jaelmark and Technician Ailenna. He explained how the Americans made a point to emphasize their desire for peace, but also their readiness for war. Considering the disparity in power, he stressed, “It would be prudent to determine a policy by which we can coexist with these Americans, reaping off their trade rather than reaping the souls of our kin in battle.”

Geuge digested the information, eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and caution. The details presented a clear picture: the Americans were a powerful entity, a civilization that could not be taken lightly. “We must tread carefully,” the Divine King finally said. “We are dealing with an entity we do not fully understand, yet one that holds tremendous power.”

He paused, looking each of his advisors in the eye. “We shall not bow down, nor will we provoke. Our next steps must be considered carefully, taking into account everything we have learned so far. I want to know more about these Americans, about their ways, and about their intentions. Arrange for a diplomatic party to attend this proposed tour.”

The officials present delved into discussion, a consensus gradually forming around Neith, the Divine Princess. Her youth and curiosity made her an ideal candidate to soak in the new experiences and insights this tour would provide. Her diplomatic tendencies would also serve her well in the gentle dance of interactions with the Americans.

“Divine Princess,” Tatchell addressed Neith directly, you have always shown wisdom beyond your years. It would be an honor if you would represent us in this critical task.”

Neith, startled at first by the proposition, considered it carefully. The responsibility was immense. Still, she felt an exciting thrill at the prospect. It was a chance to be a part of something groundbreaking, something that would reshape their understanding of the world. With a determined nod, she accepted. “I am honored by your faith in me and will endeavor to represent Cryseilies to the best of my abilities.”

With Neith selected as the main representative and Liraz sent to support her, the council now had to finalize the delegation’s other members. It was critical to select a diverse set of specialists with a broad range of knowledge and expertise to properly determine what the Americans exactly were.

“I propose Scholar Ilsa be added to the delegation,” Tatchell suggested. “Her understanding of our own economics is unparalleled, and her perspective will be crucial in dissecting the intricacies of the American economy – as well as determining how a relationship with these Americans can benefit us.”

The Divine King, with a thoughtful expression, agreed. “An excellent point, Tatchell. Her insights will indeed be valuable.”

The discussion moved on to the technological aspects of the United States – something that the initial expedition noted to be ‘bereft of the Arcane’, but otherwise knew little about. Tetal, the Grand Mage, spoke up. “Given the strange power that the New World Development Fleet observed, I myself shall determine what these Americans have in store for us. I also request the presence of Magical Technician Ailenna, who had already experienced American technology firsthand.”

“Request granted,” Geuge nodded.

Minett was the next to speak, hoping to wedge some of his influence into the selection. The proposed members – aside from Ailenna, whom he did not know – were all staunch opponents of his imperialist policies. Thus, he proposed the inclusion of a group of his top subordinates. “We should include Commander Ciedlon, Divine Knight Miro, and Lieutenant Dalceino. Commander Ciedlon’s track record is second to mine, and Lieutenant Dacleino’s position as Ace Marksman has its own merits. Divine Knight Miro was not as exceptional as the other two, but he was fervently loyal to Minett. “I believe these men and their skills will be valuable assets in assessing the Americans’ military capabilities.”

Their suggestions were met with agreement, and the delegation’s members were confirmed. However, one more aspect remained to be considered – their own impressions and interactions with American society and culture. Understanding the nuances of American culture would provide a unique perspective and depth to their assessments.

After considering a few names, the council agreed on Sorin, a social researcher known for his analytical prowess and intuitive understanding of social cultures. Having worked on the complex governing system that maintained stability within their vassal nations, his inclusion would help in understanding – and potential taking advantage of – the societal and cultural aspects of American civilization.

By the end of the discussion, a delegation representing a broad spectrum of Cryseilian expertise had been formed: Neith, Liraz, Ilsa, Tetal, Ailenna, Ciedlon, Miro, Dalceino, and Sorin. The team was thus assembled and given their mission to bring back a comprehensive understanding of the Americans.

––

December 24, 1640

Kingdom of Silkark

With a soft rumble, the airship settled down, the hum of its magical engines dissipating as the landing gear made contact with the artificial stone below. As Princess Neith and her delegation stepped out of the airship, they were warmly greeted by a welcoming party led by a man in a sharp suit.

“Your Highness, Princess Neith,” he said, bowing slightly. “I am Ambassador Anders and I extend to you the warmest welcome on behalf of the United States. This,” he gestured to the aircraft behind him, “is the jet that we’ll be flying on. I assure you that your journey will be comfortable and safe.”

Ambassador Anders guided them inside the plane, which was extraordinarily spacious. The comfortable seats, tables, and classy interior design spoke volumes about the care with which the Americans treated their guests. Following the instructions of the crew, Neith and the other Cryseilians secured themselves for takeoff.

The plane’s powerful ascent proved yet another marvel. It was very different from the smooth liftoff that she was accustomed to on airships; the Americans’ method of flight seemed as if they were fighting against the laws of nature to reach the skies. What surprised her most was the speed of the jet, the acceleration of which far outstripped a standard airship’s. Princess Neith gazed out of the window, awestruck as Silkark receded beneath them and the surrounding ocean came into view.

The hum of the airplane engines became a soothing backdrop as the journey went on. Comfortably seated, they began discussing their mission, with Liraz bringing the delegation up to date on the information they had so far on the Americans.

“I never thought I’d see the day when I’d see such a contraption – much less be inside of it,” Ilsa murmured, her hand brushing against the plush fabric of her seat. “The concept of these machines, the reliance on them instead of magic… it’s beyond intriguing. I can’t help but wonder how it shapes their economy.”

Ciedlon, always the tactful observer, nodded his agreement from his position by the window. Looking out, he sipped on a can of Coca-Cola, savoring the unusual taste. “They have a peculiar relationship with these ‘machines’. We’re born with magic, it’s part of our essence. For them, it’s different.”

“They create machines to mimic magic,” Miro interjected, his voice carrying an undercurrent of derision. “Our magic is a divine gift, but theirs? Lifeless devices conjured by man.”

His statement hung in the air until it was countered by Neith’s reasoning. “We are here to learn and to understand. To judge prematurely would be an error. This ‘plane’ is one such example. A machine devoid of any magical essence, yet it outstrips our finest skyships in speed and altitude.”

Ailenna added to Neith’s words, “And the purpose of their technology extends beyond mere comfort and convenience. Envision armadas of these ‘planes’, fitted with cannons and bombs instead of luxurious seats.”

Ciedlon agreed, the lines on his weathered face deepening in thought. “Indeed, the face of warfare would be forever altered. Their planes may not be able to carry as many cannons as ours, but that is no matter if our cannons can’t even land a single strike on their speedy planes.”

Miro, shifting uneasily in his seat, voiced his disagreement. His warrior’s pride was visibly ruffled by their discussion. “That goes for them as well. With what puny cannons they can fit onto a craft such as this, it would be unlikely they could breach our shields.”

Undeterred by Miro’s interjection, Ailenna continued, “Beyond warfare, the implications of their technology, coupled with their populous… it could instigate an industrial revolution surpassing our own. Their productivity, their efficiency…”

Ilsa joined in once more, the topic now touching her realm of expertise. “I concur. The economic ramifications are indeed significant. But it surpasses merely an industrial revolution. We could be witnessing the precursors of a societal revolution, if the video seen by Lady Liraz holds any truth.”

The group’s sociologist, Sorin, couldn’t agree more with Ilsa’s statement. “Imagine the realms of labor this kind of technology could potentially replace,” he said, “Imagine the change it would bring to trade and communication, to the ordinary course of life itself.”

Dalceino, who had thus far been silent, finally spoke. His gaze was fixed on the window, observing the clouds whiz by. “Aye, it’s not just about the war machines and workforces. It’s about the lives of us common folk. The average man in Cryseilies would have never dreamt of such speed, such convenience. I am surprised they have airships dedicated for civilian travel only.”

This fact was most unsettling. Although their guesses on the American military were limited by Liraz’s notes on the American video, the fact that air travel was not exclusive to the military spoke volumes. If planes were numerous enough to be used by the people, then they likely had an unfathomable amount fielded by their military. According to Liraz, thousands upon thousands of ‘bomber planes’ were constantly used in battle almost a century ago, leveling cities with thousands of tons of bombs. They could only shudder at how much more power the Americans developed over the past 80 years.

Tetal, the Grand Mage, chimed in. “Yet, let us not forget the essence of our people. We are bound by the arcane, this divine magic that pulses within our land and our beings. This… mechanical revolution could potentially estrange us from our roots.”

Tetal’s statement prompted thoughtful silence from the delegation. The hum of the airplane engine was the only sound punctuating the quiet.

Neith broke the silence, “Tetal, you raise an important concern. Our roots, our bond with the arcane, it defines us. We are not looking to replace our roots, but to grow from them. We may benefit from mechanical knowledge, and we may benefit from a relationship with a wealthy nation of mechanists.”

The dialogue faded as the group returned to their individual thoughts. The plane started its descent, and soon the Cryseilians were greeted with their first glimpse of the American coastline, a land foreign yet fascinating. The sight elicited a collective gasp from the Cryseilians, with many pressing their faces against the plane’s windows to get a better view.

Ailenna’s voice rang out above the excited murmurings, “There it is… America.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to the windows where, in the distance, they could make out the shimmering coastline of a vast land. The sight was made all the more breathtaking by the light of the setting sun, which bathed the landscape in warm hues,

From the cockpit, Ambassador Anders introduced his guests over the plane’s intercom. “Welcome to the United States of America. Our first destination is the city of Miami, located in the state of Florida. It’s a city known for its vibrant culture, stunning beaches, and incredible diversity – a true testament to the American spirit.”

As the plane continued its route to the airport, they could make out the details of the land below. There were sprawling suburbs and impressive skyscrapers, veins of highways covering more land than all the roads of the Cryseilian homeland, and a patchwork of fields and forests. A variety of ships loitered about the coast, from container ships to antiquated sailing vessels to mysterious ships endowed in golden hues, which oddly resembled the design aesthetics of their single Pal Chimera. As the plane descended further, the group’s anticipation grew. The bustling cityscape of Miami was now within view, stretching out as far as the eye could see.

And then, with a soft thud, the plane touched down. The plane had safely delivered them to the mysterious land of America. The doors opened, letting in a gust of slightly warm, humid air that smelled like salt and flowers.

With a final deep breath, the Cryseilian delegation walked down the steps and onto the tarmac. Miami, and the United States of America, awaited them.