In school, they always showed us maps of Wrath and its various cities, but the other factions’ details remained a mystery.
“Are you in this class, dear?” an older woman with silver hair and wrinkles lining her face asks me. She must be the professor. “The seating chart is on your left.”
I nod and move to look at the seating chart. As I move to my assigned spot, I notice Cleo waving at me and smile, returning her wave. I wish I could sit next to her.
As I move to take my seat, the color drains from her face. She looks away from me, cutting eye contact and looking down at her textbook. That's strange.
I pull out my book. The desks, worn from years of use, are made of sturdy wood. There’s an engraving on mine that says “Neal <3’s large penis potions.”
The professor taps her knuckles on the lectern to call us all to attention. She adjusts her glasses and smiles at the class.
"Welcome, everyone, to Alliance and Politics 101. I am Professor Ellington, and I am delighted to see such a diverse group of young minds eager to learn the intricate art of diplomacy and coalition-building among factions across Vail.
"First, I'd like to draw your attention to the person sitting next to you. This is no random seating arrangement; your partner for this class comes from a different faction. They will be your collaborator, your challenger, and your ally for the rest of the term. The goal is to simulate real-world scenarios where you must negotiate and work with those from different backgrounds and perspectives.
"Today, we begin with a critical exercise to introduce you to this. Imagine that your factions are facing a severe resource allocation crisis. Water, food supplies, or energy—choose one. Your task is to negotiate a treaty that ensures the survival and prosperity of both your factions. You will need to show effective negotiation strategies, establish a temporary alliance, and resolve any conflicts that arise.
"Remember, the key to success in this exercise is cooperation and creativity. I expect you to approach this challenge with an open mindand a willingness to engage in productive dialogue. Now, get to know your partner and start strategizing. Good luck."
I look at my assigned partner for the term on my right. He hasn’t said a word to me or looked my way. The first thing I notice is that he is huge. His muscular frame pulls his uniform tight across his broad chest and arms.
I also notice that he has tattoos covering his body. His uniform covers most of his body, but they creep down his wrists, across his hands, over his fingers, and up from inside his shirt, covering his neck. I can make out a skull mixed among runes that underline his sharp jaw. His hair is as black as midnight and has been cut into a sharp fade, sheered close to his head and highlighting his high cheekbones.
He’s beautiful but has a dangerous air about him, a vicious presence.
“Are you just going to stare, or do you have anything to contribute for your faction?” he asks, twirling his pencil in his strong fingers. His voice is deep and sounds as menacing as he looks...
He still hasn’t looked my way.
“Well… I think it would be best to know who I’m negotiating with first. Don’t you? I’m Arwen, from Wrath. And I wasn’t staring; I was sizing up my opponent.”
He twists his head towards me, brows lowered in confusion, and looks me up and down critically. After a beat of silence, he deigns to respond. “Maddox, Gluttony.”
“Well, Maddi,” I reply, “My faction needs food, something I’m sure Gluttony has plenty of. What can the great Wrath faction do for you?” If he’s going to be short with me, I can play this game.
“It’s Maddox,little Wrath, and your great nation,” he drawls out with sarcasm and lifts a brow, “can only provide one thing, right? We’ll take your weapons. Give us your weapons, and we’ll send you some food. Easy. Done.”
“No, not done.” I reply, leaning towards him as he turns in his seat and gets comfortable again.
“You can’t just take our weapons. We rely on those to do our jobs.”
“Fine,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “Then we’ll just wait for you all to die of starvation and then come take your weapons.”
I huff. “Why is this academy full of assholes? Is there a special asshole class that I’m missing from my roster or something?”
The edges of his mouth turn up amused, but he quickly masks it. “I always thought being an asshole was more of a prerequisite…”
“Look,” he continues with a heavy sigh, “Why are you making this difficult? We just say we’re trading weapons for food.”
“Because that’s not a diplomatic solution. In weeks, the food you give us will be gone. We’ll have fewer weapons to perform our trade of soldiering, giving us less of a chance to trade with other factions for more food. We need those weapons to do our job.”
“Why is that Gluttony’s problem? We’re not a charity.”
“Well, maybe our faction will just take all those weapons you’re asking for, head to Gluttony, and murder you and your whole family in your beds. Then take your food.” I sit back and cross my arms.
“Moving from negotiations to violence that fast, are we?” he asks with a sly grin, and his green eyes sparkle, making him look a little less menacing.
I sigh and lean over to his desk. “Look, I can’t fail this class. I feel like we started off on the wrong foot. Your faction must need theseweapons for something, right? Otherwise, why ask for them at all? Are you fighting rebel mages or something? Do you need to protect your brothers or sisters, family?”
