The Holy Alliance had never been correctly prepared to take another nation under its wing. The podiums of the national council chamber, of which there were four, were a testament to that truth. Upon each raised dias stood one of, if not a representation of, the world's most influential leaders; King Granda IV, leader of the human nation of Tor and a direct descendant of the famed King Geldin, first of his name--the ruler's great-grandfather fourfold, who personally lead his armies against the monstrous Dragon hordes of Tiamat during the previous Demon Age.
Shah Emir Bin-Amashiri, the decorated ruler of the Lunar Dominion, who ousted the foul-tempered and despotic Osman Faraaj-Im Kazhan from his throne in the chronicled Five Star Rebellion almost four decades ago, was present, along with his fellow visiting leaders, as a magical projection sustained by powerful court-sorcerers. By his side, the God-King Emir, unifier of fractured Fleecia, watched the chamber with fearsome eyes, flanked by the royal advisor, Kayam, who was to speak on behalf of Anjima's boy emperor.
Most certainly, those 4 men were the most influential in the world, and that room, the Holy Alliance's national council chamber, located within each of the four nations' capital cities, was their meeting place to discuss matters of grand importance. With the abruptness of the Queen of Elves' proposal, none of them could be present in person to attend the meeting, not without expending mana best used elsewhere, but their presences could nonetheless be felt through even those flickering, magical illusions. Upon the chamber's central sigil stood Larion herself, and within a sunken audience chamber to the rear of the room, much of Gria's gentry had settled in to listen to the proceedings.
"-Therefore, we shall consider this proposal with fairness, giving thought to all the troubles of our realms before reaching a conclusion." King Granda, who had just finished delivering a grand welcoming speech to all in attendance, turned his gaze towards the Queen of Elves, "Queen Larion. You seek to join the ranks of the Holy Alliance, offering the full might of your armies against the enemies of our united world?"
"Yes, King Granda." Bowing her head gracefully, Larion replied, "By allying ourselves with the Alliance, we hope to aid in the Demonic threat plaguing this world."
"I have been informed by Lady Yula and Sir Lotte that the actions of your people were crucial in ensuring the success of Tor's advancement against Tiamat." He continued, "For that, I must offer my deepest gratitude. However, in order to become allies, we cannot ignore the tenebrous relationship between humans and Elves."
"Of course, King Granda."
"I will hide no secrets--the city of Shulm was known for its abhorrent practice of slavery despite sanctions from the Merchant's Guild. Even its former governor was discovered to have been tangled in a web of corruption. There is no doubt in my mind that the city's destruction resulted in not only the deaths of humans, but also many wrongfully-imprisoned and indentured Elves."
"Yes. Truthfully, my people have suffered greatly under the tyranny of slavery." Placing a hand on her chest, Larion lowered her head, "Entire Elven enclaves were known to disappear at the hands of slavers operating out of Shulm. For centuries--especially those prior to the formation of the Merchant's Guild, we were targeted for discrimination by humans."
"...And even so, you would desire an alliance with your tormentors?"
"I must admit, I felt anxious leaving our hidden city for the first time…" The Queen answered, "It was impossible for me to predict the public opinion of our procession--a parade of those seen as subhumans by some. Truthfully… I feared that we would not be welcome."
Raising her head, she spoke clearly, "-But, as I was escorted through the streets of your fair city, I could see nothing but smiling faces and waving hands from my palanquin. Bouquets of beautiful flowers being thrown onto the roads--cheerful shouts from children and adults alike. Where I had expected to witness disdain, there was instead an atmosphere of grand togetherness, unmatched even by the festivities of my homeland."
"Not quite as impressive as a Fleecian celebration, I'd wager." King Granda replied.
"Hah!" From another dias, the gigantic form of Emir, whose black-onyx horns obscured a head of alabaster hair, "That's true! Every man, woman and child pours onto the streets for a celebration in Fleecia! We drink and make merry for a week, at the very least!"
"God-King Emir…" Larion turned to the enormous Onda man and gave a bow, "You must forgive me. This is my first time meeting an Onda, so I'm not certain of the correct formalities."
"From what old Granda tells me, I wasn't sure you Elves were even real." He replied, crossing his arms, "And yet here stands their very own Queen. But I do have a question for you, if what you're saying is true."
"Of course."
"Sure, you might've gotten a warm welcome in Gria, but who's to say your people are content allying with their former slavers? Were it me, I wouldn't want to associate with them in the slightest."
"I will not claim that Elvenkind does not resent humanity." She answered, shaking her head, "Many of my people see Branda as their ancestral homeland. The peninsula's occupation by King Branda I was resisted, but our rebellion was quenched. Shulm was constructed over oceans of Elven blood, and even today, our enclaves continue to resist the presence of humans."
"So, then? Can you suppress your nation's desire for blood? You alone, an Elf yourself?"
"If the world cannot unite against the threat of Demons, then what hope is there for reconciliation?" Larion argued, "The hatred between our people runs deep, through many generations, but when will that end? When will the Merchant's Guild actively enforce the abolition of slavery, rather than allowing such atrocities to continue?"
"It's in the nature of we 'men' to bicker." Emir answered, "The world could be ending, and we would still find reasons to oppose one-another. The crimes committed against one's bloodline can never be forgiven, even a generation or two after the fact. Would you cast aside the vengeance sought by your people, to ensure something so fragile as an alliance?"
"The violence must stop somewhere." She rejected, "I will not claim that such a peaceful utopia is anything short of naïve, but is a future free of discrimination not worth fighting for?"
"Emir…" King Granda spoke up, interrupting the two, "Aren't you being a little inflammatory?"
"These are discussions that need to happen." The massive Onda justified, "I won't stand up for the slaving perpetuated by your people, but just how far are you willing to go to ensure that it won't happen again? It isn't a problem you can do away with magic or promises."
"Perhaps not, but it is true that the Merchant's Guild have not adequately enforced their suspension on slavery." The King answered, "-And as a result, the patience Elves have towards humans has been whittled down to the barest nub. But, as Queen Larion says, today may be the day that changes begin to happen."
"I will not speak for my people. It is not the way of a monarch to determine the attitude of an entire nation." Larion interrupted, "But I will advocate for coexistence between humans and Elves, against the wishes of my late mother. For untold centuries, the image of the lowly, uneducated human has been perpetuated among Elvenkind. Even the nobles of my court are certain of their inferiority, arguing that only we pure-blooded descendants of the Goddess are fit to rule the world. But I know this to be untrue!"
Pausing for a moment, Larion seemed conflicted--the eyes of the four most powerful men in the world looking to see her prove her legitimacy as a leader. Exhaling, her mind was made up in an instant, and without hesitation, she placed both hands upon the splendorous, decorated royal crown of her people, lifting it from her head and allowing it to clatter noisily to the chamber floor. What few Elven guardsmen stood in attendance of her audience found gasps being caught in their throats as her face, hidden from Elvenkind for centuries, was suddenly put on full display.
"Hoh…" God-King Emir chuckled, crossing his arms, "Queen Larion, you…"
It was no surprise that the Queen of Elves was a woman of astounding beauty. And yet, those who were privy to the appearances of Elves were quick to spot the discrepancies in her appearance. For one, she lacked the alabaster hair of her people, instead sporting raven-black locks, and where an Elf's ears would be pointed and long, hers were instead stubby and short. Yes--she was no Elf, but something quite rare indeed. An occurrence so physiologically abnormal as to be considered deformed by her own people.
"Look here-" Grasping her long, black hair, Larion spoke slowly, "...The tarred hair of a half-cast. And these--the ears of one whose blood has become forever sullied. The Elven crown represents the eradication of our identities. It transforms us into abstractions of the state--never seen, but always heard. But for me, that headdress has long been a cage--a cage designed to obscure my true self, lest I be ejected from my throne. Elven society tolerates no impurity. It's believed that only a full-blooded Elf has the strength to lead Aelf'ahlnohma…"
Wearing a determined expression, she openly presented herself to the council of kings, unashamed of the person she was, and of the ridicule she would invite from her people.
"But this is the truth! I, a celebrated monarch of my people, am an impure Half-Elf!" She yelled, "Born of my mother, who detested humans, but who nonetheless granted me life, and announced my worthiness as her heir during her final days! That is who I am! And my father…!"
Clenching her fists, the frustration in her final words was palpable.
"My father-" She concluded, "He who ensured 500 years ago that I would live to see the world united! The legendary Hero, Barion!"