The Summit at the Oasis of Peace
Eastern Varzzen, Oasis of Peace, 31 NA
Aman sat down, parting his robes with his lower arms. He slumped forward, resting his stinger over the backrest of his throne. The High Hall teemed with life: the murmur of a hundred voices, the rustle of silks and clinking of armor, the scent of a dozen different perfumes mingling with the ever-present dust of the Oasis. All of them had arrived. All the great leaders of the eastern lands had answered his plea. Having made his assessment, Aman stood up from his seat, stepping into the center of the assembly. The chatter in the crowd silenced into whispers and finally died out ultimately. As he started to speak, his lower left hand rose in a gesture of greeting. Amplified by the dome above, his voice boomed through the High Hall.
"Esteemed leaders of eastern and northern Varzzen, I am eternally thankful that all of you followed my invitations. I am Tābi'sayyaf Aman, the High Executioner of the Oasis of Peace. Stargazers of all nations speak of a great threat...a cataclysm that will soon befall our world. An alignment of the Inner Celestial Spheres is imminent. And with it..." he paused, letting the silence hang heavy in the air. "The Cuulminakkra will rise again!"
As Aman spoke the ancient terror's name, a wave of unease rippled through the crowd. Aman could hear the sharp intake of breath and the rustling of nervous movement. "And it will be mightier than ever before. It will bring destruction to our lands in quantities never seen. We can already witness its awakening today as its elemental spawn, the creatures known as minnikas, rise from earth, air, fire, and water. That is why I brought you all here: to discuss the terms of an alliance that allows all your lands and its people to survive the coming storm. It is not something we can face divided."
Another murmur goes through the crowd, and Aman's throat closes up for a second. To suggest that all these nations work together was a daring request indeed, but it was a necessary one.
"I implore you all, esteemed leaders, that you are to take this threat with the seriousness it deserves." Aman put as much emphasis into these last words as his old voice allowed. He lowered his gaze, his four arms spread out, gesturing to the assembly before him. "The fate of our world hangs in the balance. Who among you will rise to this challenge?"
In the tense room, as High Executioner Aman sat back on his throne, expecting the designated order of speakers, a swirl of black silk suddenly spawned near the center.
"What?" "Run!"Panic echoed through the crowd. As chaos corrupted the careful order of the room, a massive swell of silk buds from the center of the swirl. It grew, then bloomed open, like the petals of a delicate flower, revealing two forms within.
‘’No…’’Silence fell after an anonymous voice exclaimed the thought running through every mind: arachs. The two were none other than the diarchs of Maigālinnu, the Eight-Legged Enclave. It is said that Arachnida's zealous cult of arachs is ruled by two siblings, called Brother and Sister. Not much else is known of the isolated nation that, clearly, was not invited to this summit. The crowd warily observed their new guests, nearly identical in appearance save for their outfits. It took but a moment for the one in military gear to speak up.
"Sister, it seems we made it just in time." A distinctively female voice, irritated and confident, surprised a few in the crowd. If she calls the other Sister, then it must mean she is Brother. Her armour is bright and colourful. It clung to her body in a stark contrast against her white chitin. She held herself straight, her hands clasped behind her back while her head, covered by a bronze helmet that hides all but her eyes and fangs, turned towards her sibling. "Arachnida would not have it otherwise…as the time of our arrival was foretold…" is Sister's reply, voice deep and pensive. It seemed that a male arach bore this title. His head was covered by a veil made of the finest silk and shaped like a spiderweb. His vestments, equally as colourful as his sibling's, drape gracefully across his slim body.
The diarchs looked at each other and moved as one to the center of the room, seizing the floor. "Surely it is our turn Brother…after all, every moment leads us one step closer to the Cuulminakkra's arrival." A murmur rippled like a wave through the crowd, How do they know? "...Arachnida would not have put us here if it were not to talk now…" His eyes were unfocused and his tone dream-like. Brother nodded and tapped a clawed finger on the marbled podium.
Clack. Clack. Clack.Silence returned to the room once more, thick with suspicion. "Our offer." Brother's voice was clearly angered, whether at being omitted from the council or for another unknown reason. "Maigālinnu will provide you maggots safe transport through the Great Sea of Sand." She did not allow replies before continuing. "And Shadewoven for your army." A scoff that could be a short laugh broke her speech. "You'll need them."
It was then that Sister placed one of his hands on Brother's fangs. "That wasn't very polite Brother…If we are to discuss Arachnida's great plan with others, they should at least address us by name." His hand moved to his chest, "I am Elago…", then pointed to his sibling, whose own arms were crossed. "...and this is Munene. We are the blessed and holy diarchs of Maigālinnu, where our mother Goddess sleeps." He seemed unaware, or unbothered, by the stares that pierced him on all sides. Munene simply huffed and looked away, bored yet resigned to let Elago preach his tirade. And on he went. For minutes that seemed to stretch into an eternity of convoluted madness, punctuated by proclamations of faith, and by whispers to beings who were not present. Elago claimed to know where and when the Cuulminakkra will appear, down to the very date. "As it was said by our mother Goddess in my dreams-"
"And you're all lucky Arachnida did." Munene finally interrupted her sibling, her patience clearly expired. Her gaze rolled over the crowd, the leaders, and Aman, whose decision it was to host the summit. "She and Elago are why you're not all dead right now. So bow down, obey, and don't ignore us again." With their piece said, defying all protocol, the diarchs moved to flank High Executioner Aman's throne, unsettling additions to the assembly.
As a tepid, uneasy quiet fell over the High Hall following the Diarchs' pronouncements, a figure representing stability and established power stepped forward. She belonged to the mantises of Kamaran, who had sent one of the largest delegations to the summit, a small platoon of warriors, unarmed but still and silent, ready to defend at a moment's notice, and a group of orchid diplomats, each with a gaze as sharp as the blades on their arms. As she stood, the orchids bowed their heads in reverence, and the warriors each dropped to one knee. An orchid mantis, her chitin a deep rosy shade, dressed in a kimono of pale pink silk, intricately embroidered with golden thread. A headdress with tassels sat atop her head, the tassels continuing to move despite the lack of wind. Small and aged, she radiated power, her gaze steely and discerning as she addressed the assembly with a voice that demanded respect.
"I am Matron Eari of Clan Dendro, Keeper of the Isle of Speki, the Blooming Sunset, Empress of Kamaran. And Kamaran shall rise to Executioner Aman's challenge. Long have our sages and mystics seen omens of the legendary Cuulminakra. The blessed spirits of our Isles have shown us visions of its power, its cruelty, and its ambition. We cannot allow it to devour our lands, nor the rest of the world." The Empress's tone grew sad, almost regretful.
"In ages past, Kamaran has been content to allow the ocean to protect it, and that has allowed us to thrive. Not so anymore. We depend on the world, and so now the world must depend on us." She steeled herself, and looked back to the rest as if her heart had never opened. "As such, the following are my terms. Kamaran's military is powerful. Our warriors will never surrender to any threat, internal or external, and our fleets are swift and strong. These will be placed into battle with the Cuulminakra." The assembled mantis warriors demonstrated their readiness by moving as one to stand at attention. They stood perfectly still - even their breaths were barely visible. Despite lacking forged weapons, their scythe arms still glinted with danger and prowess.
The Empress continued. "The blessed spirits may also be persuaded to aid in the banishment of the Cuulminakra, and you will have our shrinekeepers and sages to bring their will into this world. Your people, whoever you may offer to the cause, will need food and shelter. This, my people can also provide. We are a prosperous and gregarious land, with ties to the fruitful West, so none of the soldiers of the East shall go hungry or cold. In exchange for our soldiers, ships, and resources, we ask that our colonies be allowed to maintain their presence here on the mainland." This statement caused some uproar from a few of the assembled scions and fire ants, but the Empress paid no mind to the reactions.
"Our Isles may be mighty, but there is only so much land within them. If our people are to continue surviving, we must find new places to call home. These colonies, however disruptive they may be to your ways of life, are paramount to the development of not only Kamaran, but of each of your peoples as well. Which brings me to a conclusion and a proposition - that this alliance last beyond the threat of the Cuulminakra. We have seen how strong the West has become as part of a collective - even when part of that collective turned against its sisters." This was accompanied by a quick glance at other, more warlike leaders in the room. "If we wish to survive, to thrive, beyond the attack of the Cuulminakra, we must become more than we are. We must unite, as the Orchid Isles have united into one nation. Only then shall we truly see our collective potential." With that, the Blooming Sunset returned to her people, leaving the assembled leaders to consider her wise words.
Before the murmurs could resume in response to the Empress's proposition, however, attention was drawn to a truly unique sight - the representative of Isenheim. Firstly, they were the only representative who came completely alone. Secondly, while they did look like a formicoid, they were enormous, and seemed to be made entirely of ice. Everyone had heard of so-called "frost ants" living in the far north, but had thought that they would be like bull ants or fire ants, not ice sculptures.The frost ant was a majestic figure, and a mural of runes covered their body. Sunlight sparkled as it reflected off of their body. The representative stepped forward. Rime had grown on their frozen frame, falling to the ground as they stood. With each step, the floor around the feet of the ice-sculpture crunched and wisps of mists spun around them. The statue-like frost ant introduced themselves: "I am the Lawspeaker of Isenheim, Kirsi. I must apologize for my inability to attend in person. My people need me too much for me to leave for this long." Their voice was deep, wise and authoritative - and feminine.
She continued: "To start off, I fully agree that this threat endangers not just us, but all of Varzzen. It is obvious that the problem is too big for any one of us to deal with alone, and all of us need to contribute what they can to deal with it." Her gaze moved across the room.
"Of course, I am willing to do my part, but unlike leaders of other nations, I will not force any of my people to fight in this war. There are too few of us, and any loss would cost us too much. Instead, I will offer myself: I will fight personally when the threat arrives. As all of you can see, I am quite capable in the arcane arts, and those skills will no doubt see need when the threat arrives." "Furthermore, my *isposes*" - her hands scraped over the decorative runes on her thorax, drawing lines in the frost growing in them - "will join me. Each is a champion with a heart of ice, ready to face any horror the calamity will bring." The Lawspeaker let her hands fall and stood proud. "And for all of this, I ask... nothing. Offer us nothing. Make no further demands of us. Do not come to our home." She stepped back and stopped, as unmoving as ice, her silent presence radiating cold.
As the palpable chill receded from the pavilion, a different kind of intensity filled the void. Attention shifted as the delegation from Yonghéng Dìguó made their presence known, and heat began to ebb into the room. Kirsi stood unmoving, yet her antennae rolled. As the question of who would speak next rose within the minds of the crowd, the small platoon of fire ants called attention. They strode out from the crowd, light caught brass inlays on what seemed to be ceramic armor. The formation unfolded, and the ants formed a tunnel, which led back into the depths of the crowd. Two vibrantly red chilopodians slowly swayed up the fire ant tunnel, both cherished censers, which billowed a warm mist of earthy smell, as if it cleansed the very path they took. They roamed to the front of the tunnel and stood at its mouth. The crowd murmured, wondered, questioned, the whole time no leader or representative had been seen. Many assumed the two chilopodians were, but instead, they were heralds. Whispers shot around, the room filled with a low hum of murmurs.
Until a single boom rang from the ant formation, the room hushed, and a silhouetted mass rose from the incense mist. As the presence approached, the heat sweltered and sent a wave of unease through the participants. What emerged through the mist was a chilopodian of grand size, who rose above the heads of the crowd. He held his arms above his head, nearly reaching the domed ceiling, and showed himself to the many eyes which now watched him. The heat from him was oppressive, many in the crowd wondered how his radiance didn't burn up the silk he was draped in. The chilopodian was a deep red, his chitin rippled unnaturally in the form of scales, heat and flame lipped from the chinks in his chitin. He wore grand pauldrons of decorated extravagance, with silken tassels hanging off and connecting the two pieces of armor. He lowered himself back to a standing level, his head met the eyes of the crowd, which saw his mandibles, distinctly chilopodian but slightly longer, like a snout. As he spoke, the heat receded.
"Champions! Leaders! Representatives! I greet you." The fire ants, now surmised to be the honor guard, knelt at his words. The two chilopodians held the censers outstretched and unmoving, just behind their leader. "I am none other than Emkrik Maldroor, beloved ruler of the Yonghéng Dìguó." Many within the crowd scowled and scoffed at the word beloved, especially the scions, who watched him with distrust. "My glorious empire will stand against this otherworldly terror." He announced with a smooth but overwhelming voice.
He outstretched an arm to the previous delegations that had spoken, "I am in full agreement with the nature of this threat, it is above us and our petty squabbles. Long have I been advised by powers beyond this world of its arrival, and long have I prepared. There is no doubt in our need to face this threat." The massive chilopodian then began to move, he paced around the center of the room. A few delegates retreat, unable to stand near him. "I understand there are… opinions regarding my dominion and the land on which my empire stands." He looked to the scion Aman, who returned his gaze with a glare of equal proportions. "My presence here is to quell our quaint disagreements, so that we may move forward." The crowd talked amongst themselves, agitated by the Emperor's downplay of previous disputes.
"With this aside," he declared over the many voices of the crowd, hushing them. "My forces stand evermore at the ready for any threat against the Empire, so too, will they be present to stand against the threat of the Cuulminakra." With this, his honor guard rose to attention with their spears held high, their shield arms beat against their armor in thunderous unison. "Furthermore, our industries are powerful, should any unit within our alliance be lacking in equipment, I can provide what is needed. Defensive positions will be reinforced with our metallurgy, offensive fronts will be bolstered with our weapons of war. No expense shall be spared in this coming battle." While suspicion lingered in the crowd, there were few who still spoke. "Finally, I will be present myself, my progeny alongside me." The two chilopodians at the front of the Empire's delegation each raised one hand, and a pure, white flame suddenly appeared in their hands. "It will take much power to truly banish the Cuulminakra, and we will aid in this process alongside the Kamaran shrine keepers." At that moment, the Emperor bowed his head slightly to the Kamaran delegation. He was met with a questioning look from the Empress Eari herself.
As the Emperor returned to his delegation, he continued. "My terms for such aid are as follows: Disputes over the borders of my nation will be silenced, and negotiations will return in full. I intend to right our previous wrongs and make way for fresh and beneficial... relationships." An angry wave rippled over the crowd of scions, voices roared over each other. The Emperor raised his hand to try and calm the angry din. "I understand that past… complications are still fresh in many a mind. This is why I am calling to attempt negotiations once more, so that we may flourish in a new and cohesive alliance, as this summit suggests." Stunned silence now, a pin drop could be heard. "Continuing, I demand that trade routes from my nation to the other esteemed nations of this summit be given full autonomy." He then turned to the Kamaran delegation, with a respectful gaze. "And finally, I would like to discuss formal relations with the Kamaran Isles. If such a need for expansion is present, I would be enamored to discuss a potential colony upon my shores." The Empress of Kamaran's head rose to look at the goliath once more, her gaze filled with suspicion. The tassels of her headdress whipped about, as if a rush of wind swept through the room, but not even the slightest breeze made itself known. The Emperor bowed his head once more, and turned back to face the whole room.
"These are my terms. Considering the threat that looms ahead of us, they are naught but trivial. I hope that we all can come to a just accord." The Emperor bellowed the last of his words and went into the tunnel of his honor guard. His body coiled around, and brought himself low to the ground. What remained of the censer mist made the grand chilopodian disappear. The Emperor's honor guard encircled the giant, and his two progeny moved in front of the honor guard's formation. The Brimstone Emperor had spoken.
Even though the oppressive heat quickly disappeared, the energy within the High Hall remained feverish, mostly thanks to the next delegation - a group of roaches, shining with their finest metallic augmentations, pushing an unusual device on wheels towards the center of the room. A roundish conglomeration of metal gears and glass lenses, the device drew curious looks from some of the attendees, and dubious looks from others. One roach shoved a sheath of papers into a slot in the device, then pulled a large lever. The device whirred to life, one of the lenses suddenly brightened to a gleam, and a large square of light appeared on one of the High Hall's walls, white with A HUMBLE PROPOSITION - consolidated by the Reclaimers' Consortium in large, easily readable black text. Some exclaimed in wonder, others cried out in bewilderment. Ignoring their cries, another roach stepped forward to stand beside the square of light. He was a small, slight, elderly thing, but bounced with each step, carrying the energy of youth. His chitin shone with a bronze gleam, an even stranger device than the one in the center of the room was welded to his back, his eyes glowed an unnatural green, and each footstep sent little clinks echoing through the Hall - he seemed more machine than insect!
The roach handed off a scribble-filled notepad to a younger delegate, adjusted the gleaming badge on his shirt, cleared his throat, and spoke in a clear, crisp voice. "Good afternoon, fellow delegates. I am Archfactor Quintus Potanius of the Reclaimers' Consortium, here today on behalf of Sol Sphaera Societas, Varrzen's largest roach settlement." The declaration elicited derisive chuckles from some mantises and fire ants. The Archfactor seemed to pay them no mind. "My fellow Reclaimers and I have gathered information that all of you may consider quite useful in your endeavors to keep all of our peoples safe. I see some of you are fascinated by our slide projector. A fascinating bit of machinery, really…" He launches into an extended tangent about the inner workings of the machine, with only a few attendees paying any sort of attention. "But that's neither here nor there. Without further ado, let's begin. Figure one!"
The roach manning the machine pulled the lever once again, and the square of light changed, now displaying a terrifying image: a monstrously large fish-like shape with two massive bars protruding from its head, a maw full of sharp teeth open and ready to swallow all, labeled Fig. 1. "The Cuulminakra. A dangerous beast of ancient lore, detailed extensively in ancient scriptures. However - figure two!"
The lever was pulled again, revealing a new image, a relief of primitive insectoids in simple clothing and barely any distinction amongst them, frolicking about, with a Cuulminakra-shaped object small and distant on the edge of the relief. "Once upon a time, in the days of our ancestors, nothing more than a nuisance. Of course - figure three!" Another relief, this time of an ancient settlement under attack from the Cuulminakra. "Over time, the Cuulminakra became the threat we know and fear today. What, you may ask, changed between then and now? Why, also, does the West seem to be immune to this threat? We of the Reclaimers' Consortium asked ourselves the same questions, until we stumbled upon - figure four!"
An image of a pair of yet more strange devices, gleaming with light.* "The Elemental Harmonizers! A pair of devices created by our brilliant ancestors, meant to stabilize outputs of elemental energy all throughout Varzzen - the very energy, I may remind you, that the Cuulminakra and its progeny, the Minikkas, feed upon! The Harmonizer of the West, we theorize, runs smoothly to this very day, but that of the East seems to be out of commission, sad to say. Now, for the proposition itself. Figure five!"
A sketch of an updated version of the Elemental Harmonizer, surrounded by insectoids drawn to resemble representatives of each nation. "Each of our nations must put effort into discovering the location of the Eastern Elemental Harmonizer, so that we may rejuvenate it and restore safety and prosperity to all of our peoples! As for how that's going to happen, well, we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there, but for now, I conclude the proposition. Once again, I am Archfactor Quintus Potanius of the Reclaimers' Consortium. Thank you for your time." The lever was pulled one last time, the machine let out one last whirr and silence, the light disappeared, and the roaches wheel away their device, leaving many delegates bewildered by the technological display.
The brief lull was broken not by another powerful declaration, but by the hesitant stirring of one of the smallest delegations present - the akitu of Siógamhór. They really hadn't been paying attention, chittering amongst themselves, until they suddenly realized it was their turn to talk. The one who presented herself displays no grandiosity, no dramatic flair, no declaration of national values, just the awkward stumbling of a youngster unsteady on her own feet. There were murmurs amongst the crowd. Most of those present are aware that Siógamhór's standards of governance differ from those of other nations. Nobody expected a literal child to be representing the akitu! And yet, here she was, chitin gleaming like a polished aquamarine, newly gained wings fluttering on her back, a glowing white pearl hanging on a cord from her neck, crowned with a wreath bearing six bright blooms.
Smiles formed slowly. Despite their better judgements, many among the delegates find themselves charmed by the sweet little child. She stood silently, shifting her weight back and forth on her long, lanky legs. She gave a shy wave, and began to speak, rather softly - it's clear she had never spoken to a crowd before.
"Um, hi, everyone. I'm, uh, Kiara. Just Kiara, from Siógamhór. I don't have any fancy titles like all of you do. Oh, wait, actually, scratch that, I do! I am Kiara the Lucky, of the Court of the Sorrowful Heart. Although I'm not really sorrowful. Toad is. We all like Toad." Kiara reached up and gently touched the violet hyacinth on her wreath. "Toad teaches us to be kind to others, and to listen to your feelings. And, and I'm Lucky, cause I won the Pool, see. That means I'm lucky enough to come here and meet all of you. And, um, I'm really glad I did, because all of you are really interesting. Even if some of you are a little scary. But some of you are nice. You'd make really good Dreamers. Especially you, Archfactor Quintus. You're really nice. Thank you for the toy. I didn't say that before everyone else started talking, so I am saying it now." The Archfactor nodded, his smile widening as Kiara continued.
"The Cuulminakra sounds scary. And it, um, it sounds like a lot of people will get hurt when it wakes up. I mean, if it wakes up. It might not wake up. It might be just a silly story. I like stories. My favorite story is about a little tadpole who helps a little dragonfly, and then the little dragonfly helps the little tadpole back." She then proceeded to tell the story in full, then launched into one of her other favorite stories, involving a little fish. She interrupted herself as she seemed to remember where she was.
"But, uh, you guys seem to believe the Cuulminakra story, and I believe you. I really hope we can all figure it out together. Then we can all be friends, because that's what friends do. They help each other with their problems. That's why I brought these!" She reached into a pouch on her hip and pulled out a handful of perfectly smooth and round pearls, each a pale metallic hue. She flitted around the room, passing one to each of the other leaders, including Executioner Aman. "They're Promise Pearls. See, there's one for all of us. I picked them out myself. I have a friend, his name is Jase, he's really good at diving for them." Another akitu, presumably Jase, waved.
"All you gotta do is pick one up, and then you promise to be friends with each other as long as you live. And it glows, and it gives you extra magic. See, I got one! I got it for promising to help my friend with their farm, and then I did that, and it glowed. And if you don't keep that promise, something bad will happen. I don't know what, but I don't want it to happen to any of you. So I hope you can keep that promise." A long, somewhat awkward pause.* "That's all." Kiara rejoined her friends, and they resumed their conversations.
High Executioner Aman, who had remained seated during Kiara's address, nodded slightly as she finished. He slumped back onto his throne, the weight of the previous speeches settling in the suddenly quiet High Hall. He surveyed the assembled leaders – the calculating Empress, the aloof Lawspeaker, the grandiose Emperor, the cryptic Diarchs, the earnest Archfactor, and a lucky…child. One major power remained. It was time for the Ādhā-sha, for his people, to make their claim.
"I thank all who have spoken for their candor and proposals," Aman's voice echoed, regaining its authority. "The gravity of our situation is clear, the paths forward… less so. Now, we shall hear from the collected strength of my own people. The Ādhā-Sha have chosen a champion to lead their might in this coming storm. Overlord Borzûk, Al'Qayim of the Azmar, Rider of Al'Raq'tama!"
The atmosphere, momentarily softened by Kiara's earnestness, quickly grew tense again. A heavy tread announced Borzûk's approach before he even reached the center. He didn't stride; he stomped, each footfall echoing his disdain for the delicate floor tiles. His scarred, pitch-black carapace seemed to absorb the light, and his presence filled the space like a sandstorm, pushing back against the lingering incense of the Emperor and the chill of the Lawspeaker. He scanned the room, his gaze lingering dismissively on the arach Diarchs flanking Aman's throne and barely registering the other groups. He planted himself firmly, arms crossed over his massive chest. When it came, his voice was a roar that needed no amplification.
"HAH! Finally! Thought I'd turn to dust waitin' for all this… talk." Borzûk spat the word like something distasteful. "I am Al'Qayim Borzûk! Chieftain of the Azmar, and by the will of the Executioners, Overlord of ALL Ādhā-Sha! Remember the name! You'll be carvin' it into monuments when this is over!"
He chuckled, a harsh, grating sound. "This Cuulminakkra… this 'ancient terror'..." He waved a dismissive claw. "Good! Let it come! The desert breeds strength and boils weakness away. My Ramil-sha warriors hunger for a real fight! We face death every cycle under the merciless sun. This overgrown fish is just another beast to break, another skull to mount on Al'Raq'tama's flank. This isn't a time for fear – it's a time for GLORY!" Approving bellows echo from Borzûk's followers as his gaze swept the assembly again. "Ādhā-Sha offers strength. REAL strength! Not whispers from gods" – a pointed look at Elago – "or tinkering with ancient toys" – a glance towards Quintus's delegation – "or… pearls." He scoffed loudly. "We offer the finest cavalry under the sky. Warriors who live and breathe battle. We know the harsh ways, the paths others fear to tread. If you want to survive, you follow OUR charge!"
Borzûk turned slightly, addressing the Emperor's delegation without deference. "Emperor Maldroor! You speak of borders, negotiations, and past wrongs. Bah! Futile! Victory first! When the Cuulminakkra lies broken at our feet, then we talk. Until then, your 'disputes' are dust. If you wish the aid of scion might – my might – your foundries will arm my warriors. Your resources will feed my campaign! As for those mountains your Empire gnaws on… let them be your problem for now. We have larger prey."
He then wheeled towards the arach Diarchs, his voice dripping with contempt built on generations of scion dominance. "And you, uninvited filth, skulking in the shadows. You offer Shadewoven? The broken toys of your 'goddess'? You offer passage through our sands? Insolence! Know your place, arachs! You speak of Arachnida's plans? You should have asked her for an invitation first! Your presence here is tolerated only because spilling your unworthy ichor now would be inconvenient. Show respect, or learn it the hard way."
His gaze flickered to Empress Eari. "Empress! Your ships are useful. Your warriors, perhaps adequate. But your colonies on mainland soil? An infestation we endure. Do not mistake tolerance for acceptance. You want our alliance? You want the shield of Ādhā-Sha warriors? Then your footholds shrink, they do not grow! Perhaps your isles have room for our spoils after the victory!"
He threw his head back and laughed again. "So, I think my terms are simple. I lead the land war. My warriors form the spearhead. You ALL support US! Provide the resources, and follow my command. We carve glory from this beast's hide, and when the dust settles, a new power will stand forged in this fire. A united Ādhā-Sha, under my banner, reminding Varzzen what TRUE strength looks like!" Borzûk throws a mocking glare toward Aman, who meets the Overlord's gaze with a steely grimace.
"Enough talk! Time for GLORY! ARE YOU WITH ME?!" He slammed a massive claw onto his chest, the sound echoing like a war drum through the suddenly very tense High Hall.
As the echoes of Borzûk's final, booming challenge faded, An instant uproar followed. Roars of approval erupted from Borzûk's entourage, met immediately by offended cries from the Kamaran mantises. Amidst the clamor, unnoticed by the furious warlords, quiet sobbing could be heard from Kiara, her small frame trembling.
Aman rose slowly into the turbulent atmosphere, his ancient carapace seeming to carry the weight of every word spoken. He stepped once more into the center, his four arms held loosely at his sides. He waited for a beat, letting the discord swell, then let the sheers of his giant claws snap shut in a single sharp clap amplified by the hall's acoustics. The sudden, authoritative sound cut through the commotion, startling many into silence. As gazes turned towards him, his voice resonated through the now-quieter hall, demanding attention.
"I thank you all," he began, his gaze sweeping across the delegations, acknowledging each leader without singling them out. "You have journeyed far. You have spoken your truths, laid bare your strengths, and stated your terms. The Oasis of Peace has borne witness to your words, as have the spirits of our ancestors." He paused, letting the weight of the moment sink in. "The threat is undeniable. The celestial spheres align towards catastrophe. The Cuulminakkra stirs. Its spawn has have already begun to awaken and terrorize our nations. At least, there appears to be consensus on this. Survival demands action."
Aman's expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "Yet... survival also demands unity. And while I have heard offers of great power – of warriors and fleets, of arcane might and industrial strength, of knowledge ancient and new, even of passage through cursed sands – I have also heard demands that clash like storm clouds. Old wounds fester between us. New ambitions jostle for dominance. For some, the price of cooperation seems measured in the lands or sovereignty of others."
His gaze sharpened. "Make no mistake: this path will not be easy. The arrogance of one faction," his eyes flickered towards the Diarchs, who still flank his throne, "the expansionist history of another," a glance towards the Emperor's delegation, "the colonial ambitions of a third," a nod to the Empress, "and the raw hunger for power we have just witnessed," acknowledging Borzûk without naming him, "all threaten to unravel this fragile accord before it is even woven."
"But unravel it must not," Aman stated, his voice hardening. "The Cuulminakkra cares nothing for our borders, titles, grievances, or glory. It seeks only to destroy. Failure to cooperate is not merely political defeat; it is oblivion."
He raised one hand, palm open. "Therefore, let this be the judgment of this summit: the time for broad pronouncements is over. The time for practical necessity begins." "I propose the formation of an immediate War Council. This council, operating under the continued neutrality of the Oasis, shall consist of myself and key representatives designated by each of you – those best suited to military strategy, resource logistics, and spiritual or arcane counsel. Its first task will be practical: to verify the immediate threats, consolidate intelligence – from all sources willing to share truthfully – and coordinate the deployment of those forces and resources already offered against the Minnika incursions and in preparation for the greater beast."
"Specific terms, border disputes, long-term alliances, the settling of old debts, the disposition of colonies – these require deeper consideration than this hall, at this moment, can provide. They must be addressed, yes, but they cannot paralyze our immediate response. Let those discussions continue, perhaps in smaller forums, facilitated here if needed. But the War Council must focus solely on survival against the common enemy."
He looked around the room one last time, his gaze piercing. "The offers have been made. The needs are clear. Choose your council representatives wisely. Send them prepared to act, not merely to posture. The coming storm demands our strength, our wisdom, and yes, perhaps even a measure of sacrifice we are not yet prepared for."
Before speaking his final words, Aman folded his arms in front of his body, looking up at the dome of the High Hall. "The formal speaking of this summit is concluded. May your private deliberations be guided by the gravity of the hour. The fate of Varzzen rests not on the power we boast but on the wisdom we employ. Do not fail this judgment."
With that, Aman turned and sauntered back to his throne, leaving the assembled leaders to digest his words and contemplate the difficult path ahead under the heavy, silent dome of the High Hall.
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