“Greetings to you both. Shall we begin?”
Three days after Wein’s negotiations, Ninym and Levan reeled as Caldmellia favored them with a smile.
Since Ninym and Levan hoped to keep their meeting with the Flahm revolutionist benefactor under wraps, it was covertly held in a building located in a corner of town. This had been done to prevent exacerbating the situation and to make eliminating this backer easier, if necessary.
I have no doubt they’re against us.
With all this in mind, Ninym had carefully combed the familiar streets as part of a preliminary investigation. She’d quickly picked the ideal venue and readied a contingency plan in case the backer needed to be dispatched.
Come what may, she and Levan would be ready. Or so she thought.
“Wh-why are you…?” Nothing could have prepared Ninym for Caldmellia’s sudden appearance. She didn’t know what to say.
Master Levan!
Ninym looked to the man frantically, only to discover he was just as astonished.
Caldmellia was a high-ranking member of the Teachings of Levetia, a religion that promoted persecution of the Flahm. Neither could even begin to fathom why she was here.
“Must you even ask?” Caldmellia grinned like a young girl who’d played a clever trick. “I’m the Flahm’s benefactor, my dear young lady.”
“…!”
Yes, that had to be it. There was no other answer. This was the designated spot where the two Flahm representatives were supposed to meet a backer pushing for Flahm independence. No stranger could have stumbled upon the site by mistake. Yet although Ninym and Levan understood this, they struggled to accept it. Caldmellia was an enemy to their people in every conceivable way.
“It would appear my little surprise worked. However, we’ll get nowhere like this. You really must relax. How about some tea?”
Caldmellia’s servant set three cups on the table. Ninym didn’t move a finger, but Levan broke the ice.
“My apologies, Lady Caldmellia. We never expected to meet you in a place like this,” he said, reaching for his cup to take a sip.
Ninym instinctively tensed, and Levan gave her a sharp look that bade her to be calm. Caldmellia wouldn’t try anything here.
Whatever the woman’s objective, there was no question she wanted to talk. Thus, she wouldn’t resort to anything like poison. Even then, the worst could be avoided so long as Ninym survived.
“Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Levan, a mediator for Natra’s Flahm population. This is Ninym. I’ve invited her along as my successor.”
“I am Caldmellia. I’ve heard much about you both. You’re talented individuals who aid the king and crown prince.”
“We are humbled by your praise, Director. I never imagined word of us would reach someone like yourself.”
“…” Ninym tried her best to keep placid as she watched the discussion. Caldmellia was the biggest imposter on the continent and could easily win over a troubled heart. Ninym had to gather herself while Levan was talking.
“Forgive my forwardness, Lady Caldmellia, but let me ask once more… Are you truly our benefactor?”
“Of course, Sir Levan.”
“And are you supporting the Flahm in an individual capacity?”
“No,” she replied. “Although this is not an official meeting, I speak as director of the Gospel Bureau.”
This unexpected conversation grew more shocking still. Learning she assisted the Flahm only as an individual would’ve been almost understandable. What did it mean that Levetia was involved?
“Might I ask why?” Levan questioned.
“The Teachings of Levetia is a kind, peaceful faith that promotes justice and equality. Yet although that is written in the scriptures, we have long debated our tolerance toward the enslavement of the Flahm. That’s why Levetia has recently decided to support the Flahm in their independence and push for social recognition,” Caldmellia explained with an enigmatic smile. “Of course, that is purely the official standpoint.”
“Then what is your true purpose?”
“The Empire.”
Ninym’s eyebrow twitched.
“Earthworld has gained a new Empress. The scars of civil war are slow to heal, but it won’t be long before the Empire invades. The West must unify against it.”
“I see,” Ninym said, joining the discussion at last. “In other words, the Empire has troublemakers who, like we Flahm, might pose a threat. However, the enslaved Flahm are also a labor force and a valuable asset. If you discard us casually, you risk a Flahm uprising and weakened militia. Such a thing would grant the Empire an advantage, so you hope to win us over and use the Flahm as pawns.”
“What a keen observation,” Caldmellia agreed without the slightest hint of guilt. “First, we’d have you persuade Prince Wein. Since Flahm voices have gained recognition within Natra lately, he’ll concede swiftly if you endorse the West. However, if Prince Wein does join the East, he’ll need to be stopped immediately. I hope your people will serve as our vanguards and later rule this land as your own.”
Caldmellia offered no pretense, preferring to blatantly encourage the Flahm to betray Natra. There was no question Levetia intended to use the Flahm to win over Wein, take him down if need be, and act as a shield against the Empire.
“The Empire is a threat to every citizen in the West,” Caldmellia asserted, beaming. “Let us cast aside past misgivings, join hands, and fight as one.”
“Absolutely not!” Ninym shouted furiously.
“Ninym,” Levan reprimanded.
However, she couldn’t stop herself.
“You know how much the Flahm have suffered under the West’s oppression! We’re not about to wage war for you!”
“Ah, that’s where the direct descendant of the Founder comes in.” Caldmellia’s comment felt like a knife between her ribs. “The person in question lurks in Natra, if I’m not mistaken.”
“…!” Ninym froze. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
She tried to play dumb, even as her tongue twisted into knots. Meanwhile, Caldmellia’s eyes sank into Ninym. She’d already figured it out. This woman was the backer who’d exposed Ninym’s identity in the first place. She’d known long before the trouble began.
“With the Founder’s direct descendant as their symbol, the Flahm would fall into line. They’ll even cooperate with their hated enemies of the West if told to do so. It’s a miracle the Founder’s lineage has survived. I have no doubt it is the descendant’s destiny to help us overcome our bloody history.”
Ninym fought the urge to jump up and punch this woman in the face. She couldn’t, of course. It was a hopeless wish. She made a tight fist and chained back the rage burning in her throat.
“All right. Suppose there is a living descendant,” Ninym replied. “Why should they join the West? This person could just as easily convince everyone to join the Empire.”
“Heh-heh, I’d expect no less from someone who has countless friends in Earthworld.” Ninym felt a chill in Caldmellia’s taunts. She was being analyzed. “Nonetheless, there is no future for the Flahm in that.”
“Wh-why not?”
“Because of Eastern Levetia,” Caldmellia explained. “Eastern Levetia is a rival sect of the West’s faith. Those apostates twist the scripture and insist they are the true believers. Of course, I have my own position to consider and would never condone such drivel.”
The last bit seemed to be a joke. Neither Ninym nor Levan laughed, but Caldmellia seemed to relish their reactions.
“In any case, Eastern Levetia followers have demonstrated that they consider the scripture to be absolute and believe the Flahm deserve eternal bondage. And they are right next door to Natra, as is the Empire. They will only bring you grief.”
“The Empire values an individual’s abilities over heritage,” Ninym asserted.