The battle had ended, and the rift had been sealed. The shadowy creatures that had poured from the fissure were nothing more than fading memories, their forms dissolved into the ether. Lumumba, Amara, and Jon had returned to the capital, their bodies tired but their spirits high. The fissure crisis in the Northern Kingdom was over—for now.
William sat in the dimly lit council chamber, reviewing reports from the battlefield and the state of the kingdom. His rule was still young, but the political landscape was shifting under his feet. The nobles were still testing him, and the threat of the Sovereign loomed on the horizon. He knew that this victory was only a brief reprieve.
The door creaked open, and Lumumba sauntered in, followed by Jon and Amara. His usual grin was plastered across his face, despite the exhaustion visible in his eyes. He dropped into a chair opposite William, his twin sabers clinking softly as he leaned back, putting his boots up on the table.
"So, we did it," Lumumba said, his tone casual, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed the gravity of the situation. "Fissure closed, creatures dealt with. Easy day, right?"
William let out a small sigh of relief, though he couldn't afford to fully relax. "For now." He gestured to the map of the kingdom spread across the table. "But the Sovereign's influence isn't gone. This was just one battle."
"One battle, sure, but a win's a win," Lumumba replied, his tone as nonchalant as ever. He glanced at the reports, then back at William. "Now, about that favor I mentioned…"
William raised an eyebrow. "Favor? You mean the one where you ask for more soldiers and think I'll just hand them over without a second thought?"
Lumumba grinned. "You catch on fast. I need some of your best soldiers. Not to fight—well, maybe not immediately—but to train my boys back home. I'm talking about sending a few of your elite to the Prolo' Academy."
Amara, standing by the window, glanced over with curiosity. "The Prolo' Academy?"
Lumumba nodded. "Yeah. I'm setting up an academy to train the poor and the downtrodden—the ones the nobles never bother with. The same nobles that love to pretend their blue blood makes them better fighters or leaders."
William leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "You're building an army of the people? An army that answers only to you?"
Lumumba shrugged. "Not just an army—an institution. A place for those who don't have the luxury of being born into privilege to become something more. You get your elite soldiers, I get a force that's not full of preening noble brats. Everybody wins."
William's gaze remained serious. "And what do you expect me to do when those same 'prolos' start rising up against their own rulers? Or worse, against me?"
Lumumba laughed, the sound full of irony. "Come on, William. You think I'm going to let some peasant rebellion get out of hand? Look, here's the thing: You've got bigger things to worry about—like the Sovereign. I'm offering you a chance to train a force that's loyal to us both. Besides…" His grin widened, and his tone shifted, becoming a bit more conspiratorial. "If any of the neighboring kingdoms start getting ideas about taking you down, well, you've got leverage."
William tilted his head, clearly interested but cautious. "Leverage?"
Lumumba leaned in, his voice lowering. "You're sitting in a strategic position—key trade routes run right through your territory. Now, let's say some ambitious king or lord gets a little too bold and tries to stir up trouble. What's the easiest way to destabilize a country?" He paused, enjoying the moment before delivering the punchline. "You cut the trade routes. Close them down, jack up the prices of basic goods, and suddenly, food costs triple, supplies run low, and boom—riots. A few days of that, and the people will be storming their own castle gates. Classic move—just ask the United States how they've handled things with their little embargo tricks."
Jon chuckled from across the room. "Yeah, nothing like an embargo to bring a kingdom to its knees."
Lumumba continued, his tone now more serious. "The moment you control trade, you control the flow of money, resources, and power. The other kingdoms won't risk messing with you if they know you can bring their economy to a halt with the snap of your fingers. The marketplace is a battlefield, and I think we both know how to win it."
William sat back, considering Lumumba's words. It was true—his kingdom's position made it a crucial hub for trade across the region. If he were to cut off those routes, it would send shockwaves through the economies of his rivals. But it was a dangerous game to play, one that could have far-reaching consequences.
"And what happens when the nobles here—my nobles—start feeling the squeeze?" William asked, still wary.
"That's the beauty of it," Lumumba replied. "They won't. Because they'll be protected. Amara and I have already discussed making the import-export agreements between our domains smooth as butter. Low tariffs, priority routes. A little alliance, you know, giving and taking. You train my soldiers, I help your people get what they need, and the rest of the world can stew in their own overpriced mess."
Amara, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. "The idea is sound, William. If we control trade between our domains, we could ensure a steady flow of resources and supplies at lower costs. In the long run, it strengthens both our territories while keeping external threats at bay."
Lumumba clapped his hands together, clearly satisfied. "See? Everyone's a winner here. And trust me, if anyone tries to pull a coup or destabilize your rule, they'll find themselves out of food and allies real fast."
William looked from Lumumba to Amara, weighing his options. On one hand, he knew he needed to consolidate his power and build alliances, especially with the Sovereign's shadow still looming. On the other hand, creating an elite force of commoners could be risky—it would empower the lower classes and potentially create unrest among the nobles.
"Alright," William said at last, his voice steady. "You get your soldiers, but only under a few conditions. First, I'll send my best military trainers, but they report back to me. I need to know what's happening in that academy. Second, no rebellions. I don't want to see these soldiers being used to upset the balance of power in my kingdom."
Lumumba gave him a mock salute, his grin widening. "Deal. I'll keep them in line—well, mostly."
Amara stepped forward, her eyes sharp. "I'll handle the trade agreements. We'll start lowering tariffs on goods between our territories, ensuring both sides benefit. But William, make no mistake—this is a partnership. We both need to hold up our ends if this is going to work."
William nodded. "I understand."
Jon, who had been leaning against the wall, piped up. "So, basically, we get an army of proles, keep the nobles happy with their fancy imported wine, and wreck anyone who thinks they can mess with us. Sounds like a solid plan to me."
Lumumba winked at him. "Exactly. And when the Sovereign comes knocking, we'll have more than enough firepower to send him packing."
As the meeting drew to a close, Lumumba stood and stretched, his usual irreverence creeping back into his voice. "Well, I've got to say, I'm liking this alliance more and more. No one's trying to stab me in the back—yet—and I get to build an academy that'll make Karl Marx proud. We're giving power to the people."
"And hopefully keeping it from blowing up in our faces," Amara added with a half-smile.
"Details, details," Lumumba said with a wave of his hand.
William stood as well, his expression thoughtful but resolved. "We'll keep this alliance strong. But remember, Lumumba—there's a lot more at stake here than just trade and soldiers. The Sovereign is still out there, and the fissures are far from gone. We've only won a battle, not the war."
Lumumba nodded, his eyes hardening slightly. "Oh, I haven't forgotten about the Sovereign. We'll find him. And when we do, we'll end this. But for now? Let's build our strength. We've got a kingdom to protect."