Both he and Xolani knew the city like the back of their hand; they were able to exploit a myriad of different shortcuts, ones that graciously guided them away from the maddening rabble. When he was younger, Jevon was the very definition of a nervous wreck— but working in diplomacy has at least challenged him to work on his social comfortability. Though he innately reveled in the brief quietude the peopleless backstreets offered while he pursued his friend down a somewhat cramped alleyway. There were interconnecting clotheslines between the eclipsing balconies, dapples of sunlight sliding in through the gaps and dotting them in irradiant patches.

There was a stray dozing on one of the abandoned crates, a grizzled thing with a shredded ear— which flicked in acknowledgment when Jevon’s hand approached. It bounced to its feet— its hoary fur stranding straight at the arch of its back as it swatted at him before making a swift retreat. Jevon chuckled softly to himself before scurrying to catch up with his friend— a mirthful skip in their step, fingers interlocked behind their person.   

“So,” their honey-like timbre almost reverberated through the vacant backstreet. “How was your little trip, hm? I've heard that things are rather... turbulent over there.”   

“Yes, it was... indeed pretty hectic... but in spite of it, I was offered hospitality. The young master of Clan Akatsuki was a kind soul; I enjoyed our talks together, as brief as they might have been... I was shocked when I learned that he is even younger than I am— I thought it was admirable that he’s managed to keep everything up and running,” Jevon explained as an unbidden smile curled onto his lips, fondly recalling his adventures in Amano— as much of a roller-coaster as it had been, he had managed to enjoy himself in the end.

Clan Akatsuki’s youthful commander had hailed from a bloodline of accomplished warriors— apparently, since the moment he first began to train himself in the art of blade-work, he demonstrated unimaginable potential. 

And he unquestionably believed it— he was granted the honor of sparring with him on one occasion, and he had not even so much as taken the first inch forward before the world was spinning and he found himself on the ground, weapon kicked out of reach and his defeat all but ensured. Despite his peaceful disposition, Jevon was quite the combatant himself— and yet, he had been completely and thoroughly quashed in a matter of seconds. 

“... Since negotiations have been suspended for the meantime, I mainly just treated myself to their cuisine and immersed myself in the culture while I had the opportunity. I think you’d like it there, Xolani— it is a truly captivating place," scarlet forests and splendid rivers and lakes— Jevon experienced a pang of an emotion that vaguely resembled nostalgia, even though he had been no more than a glorified tourist. 

“Is that so? Well, perhaps whenever the hostilities have calmed down a bit, I will happily indulge in a rather overdue vacation,” Jevon was about to retort, “you’re always indulging yourself, though,” but decidedly kept his mouth closed. 

Occasionally, Xolani will drag themself to what they’ve outspokenly described as a “humdrum war meeting”, or even commit themself to penning an important missive or two— but most of the time, their routine consisted of two or three naps per day, splurging on futilities, and complaining to him about their topsy-turvy love ordeals.  

“Well, even if you weren’t successful this time, it's nothing to worry your pretty little head over, love,” they continued. “The Bureau has been tentatively cooperating with us thus far… but that is, of course, liable to change if resources are drawn too thin across the board. Since we aren’t receiving any exportation from Codoslia, the auxiliary equipment they have endowed us with has been the saving grace of our ill and wounded… but the market is in absolute shambles all around. I just wish this accursed nation would get with the times already... but people are always hesitant to accept change.”  

Without the assistance of the Bureau, history may indeed feel liable to repeat itself. When Igerene was yet an infantile, developing nation spearheaded by the acclaimed Conqueror, hailed as a king amongst kings— her imperious tenure was ultimately cut short when a ravenous, uncontrollable plague ripped through the continent— exterminating a grand proportion of the overall population… and that merely occurred because the people of Igerene— their shameless ruler included— were too stubbornly haughty to consider requesting aid from their more medically-advanced neighbor. While the world has yet to see a calamity of that scale resurface again— due to Igerene’s almost primitive mindset— they were exceedingly overdependent on the trade system to accrue necessities, primarily of the medicinal variety.

After all, this was a nation that outlawed any usage of alchemy or equivalent magic outside of those select few who are licensed because the statesmen would only accept it for its “inherently” destructive nature while refusing to acknowledge its pros. 

… At the end of the passageway was a small clearing— the backs of townhouses blanketed in thick layers of moss and jumbles of various materials were bestrewned about. There was a looping staircase of weathered stone, and Jevon watched as his friend— with a hand gliding up the railing— hopscotched until they reached the final step— cocking their head back to him and gesturing with their chin. Once Jevon was in their propinquity, they began to speak again; however, Xolani had taken on a dourer tone as their one-eyed gaze fell on the diamond-dazzle of the encircling sea. 

“... When it comes to this silly little war, I do believe there are white flags in Codoslia’s future. I mean, they cannot afford to continue this bitter struggle when they’ve made absolutely no progress in the last half of a decade. But that king of theirs is a lackadaisical, good-for-nothing swine— he’s just laying around in that cushy little castle of his while forcing his people to fight in an unwinnable battle… and for what, pray tell? Honestly, I have no clue… when it comes to rich, gluttonous governments like that, they’d much prefer to not think about the consequences of their actions and sit back while the rest of the world burns… but since they’re our leaders, that makes them infallible, right? Well, not that I can say that our side is any better.”  

He agreed wholeheartedly. When it came to matters of bloodshed, there was no heroism or glory to be found. For a country that worshiped the incarnation of said slaughtering, again, perhaps it was but a source of entertainment to them... However, if one were to light a wildfire, devastation to a widespread degree was simply inescapable; if it was believed otherwise, then the person in question was blinded by their own hypocrisy.  Indeed, the only thing that was generated from war was more hatred, more resentment, and more misery. 

Jevon would know— for he has stared such a wildfire in the face before. It left its searing touch on him and charred both him and his soul a deep indelible black.  

And yet at that calm moment before the storm of war trumpets rang out when his words could have left a genuine impact, he had been too cowardly to raise his voice.

“There’ve been mutinies, revolts, petitions... the whole nine yards due to the negligence of their king— but silly signatures and protests won’t be enough to bring this futile fighting to an end,” added his friend as they slipped out of the alleyway— a broad, thronged road unveiled before them that was hemmed by a yawning canal interspersed with passing boats.

"Of course, the dissenters were quickly curb-stomped by the College. As far as I can tell, they have a bad habit of… silencing anyone who dares to openly disagree with the parliament. If King Faust believes himself to be a saint incarnate despite his insolent ways, then the College must think that they’re gods administering what they believe to be righteous judgment… but hey,” they outstretched their arms. “... If this keeps up, the integrity’s going to come crashing down and Codoslia will lose their foundation. You can’t hope to quiet a whole people forever, after all.” 

He was then imparted a smile— although it contained not even an inch of their customary cheer. “... And our beloved Crown Prince shall be hailed as a hero once he snatches the evil king’s head from his shoulders… and only then can we shut the book on this bitter tale.” 

Their body slackened as they let out a huff of rancorous laughter. 

“... If only that were the case indeed, right?”