Lord Halden leaned forward, curiosity clear in his voice. "Your nation… its power is unlike anything we have ever seen. Tell us, Aurion—are you a land of warriors? Have you fought great wars?"
The Aurion officials exchanged brief glances. Foreign Minister Elena Choi answered carefully, her tone measured. "Aurion has defended itself when necessary. We value peace above conquest. In our world, we held no dominion over others—we were not conquerors."
It was a half-truth at best. The officials knew that Aurion's history was far bloodier than they would ever admit to Drakensport.
General Delos stayed silent, knowing that behind closed doors Aurion's archives held records of their military campaigns—how Aurion had stood alongside the United States in World War II, supplying weapons and intelligence that accelerated the war's end. How their research and industrial might had been pivotal in the creation of the nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Later decades had seen Aurion forces quietly deployed in the Gulf War, the Iraq invasion, and numerous UN missions, always supporting allies but never claiming the spotlight. Aurion's military doctrine had grown from these conflicts—efficient, decisive, and brutal when required.
But none of that could be spoken here.
Instead, Elena continued smoothly, "We do not seek to rule over others. Our strength exists only so that we may protect ourselves and maintain peace."
Lord Merrow smirked faintly. "And yet your dragons of steel… they do not look like tools for peace. They are weapons. Do not tell us otherwise."
Defense Minister Sato replied firmly, "They are weapons, yes. But they are weapons we use only when every other option has failed."
Father Alric observed quietly, studying their faces. He sensed there was more to Aurion's past than they were willing to share.
Lady Arlenne, noticing the tension, quickly redirected the discussion. "Perhaps history can wait. We are here to build trust, not dwell on the wars of the past."
But in the minds of some Drakensport envoys—especially Merrow and Halden—the evasive answers only fueled suspicion. If Aurion truly possessed such overwhelming might, why hide it?
And for men hungry for power, the thought of seizing such weapons became all the more tempting.
Elena Choi smiled faintly, trying to shift the mood to lighter matters. "Perhaps instead of wars, we could speak of culture. Aurion is a vast land with many regions worth seeing. In our world, people travel not just for trade or conquest, but for leisure—simply to experience new places. We call it tourism."
Lord Halden tilted his head slightly. "Tourism?" The word sounded alien on his tongue. "You mean… people travel without duty? Without purpose?"
Elena chuckled softly. "The purpose is enjoyment. To see wonders, to learn about different people and lands."
Father Alric frowned. "Idle wandering for pleasure alone… how strange. And yet your nation seems prosperous. Do your people truly spend coin for such things?"
Defense Minister Sato nodded. "They do. Our mountains, forests, and coasts all draw visitors. We have cities with histories spanning centuries, museums, theaters, and great monuments."
Lord Merrow raised an eyebrow. "And you simply… allow foreigners to roam your lands freely?"
General Delos answered calmly, "With rules, yes. We host travelers from all across our former world. It builds trust, understanding, and trade."
Lady Arlenne leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. "So these… tourists, as you call them, do not fight? They do not take lands?"
Elena smiled gently. "No. They take only memories. And they return home with stories, not spoils."
The medieval envoys exchanged uncertain looks. To them, the idea of people crossing borders without conquest or duty was nearly incomprehensible.
Sir Cedric broke the silence. "Perhaps… we may see these places one day?"
Elena nodded. "Perhaps. We would welcome it. Our cities, our libraries, our great landmarks—they belong to all who come in peace."
But as she spoke, Lord Merrow's gaze drifted toward the windows, where the distant silhouette of a "steel dragon" passed over the skyline. He thought to himself, If they allow strangers to see all this… what other power might they be hiding from us?
Elena Choi nodded as the discussion shifted naturally toward mutual exchange. "Tourism is not only for our people to visit your lands," she explained. "If your citizens ever wished to visit Aurion, they could. It would not be a one‑sided arrangement. But we expect the same in return—our citizens would also like to visit your towns, your castles, your fields. Many of our people are tired of crowded cities and constant work. They would welcome a place of calm and open sky."
Father Alric tilted his head, still finding the concept strange. "So your people, weary of their busy lives… would find peace simply by walking our lands?"
"Yes," Elena replied warmly. "Many of our citizens crave quiet. They would value your forests, your mountains, your way of life. They would not seek to change your customs or rule your people. Tourism is not conquest—it is simply a visit."
Lady Arlenne interjected with a thoughtful look. "But… if your people walk among ours, who will ensure their safety? What if bandits strike? What if… less civil men see them as prey?"
Defense Minister Sato leaned in, speaking firmly. "That is precisely why we bring this up now. If such exchanges are to happen, both nations must guarantee the safety of visitors. We will not allow our citizens to be harmed."
Lord Halden chuckled dryly. "And if something does happen? If one of your 'tourists' is killed in our lands?"
General Delos's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it. "Then it becomes a matter of trust—and of responsibility. We intervene very little in the affairs of others. But if our citizens are harmed under your watch, there will be consequences."
Father Alric quickly raised a hand, sensing the growing tension. "Peace, friends. No one here wishes for blood over such matters. We only wish to understand. If this… tourism brings prosperity to both our lands, then perhaps it is worth considering."
Elena nodded, seizing the moment to close the gap. "Exactly. We seek exchange, not interference. Aurion has no interest in ruling your people, dictating your faith, or seizing your lands. But if our citizens come here, we ask that they are treated as guests. In return, your people will be welcomed in our cities—with safety and respect."
Sir Cedric glanced at the other envoys. "Perhaps… such visits would help both our peoples understand each other better. Fewer rumors, fewer fears."
Lord Merrow stayed silent, though his eyes betrayed calculation. The more he heard of Aurion's wealth and freedom of movement, the more he began to wonder just how much profit could be made from such an arrangement—and how much power could be gained from studying these outsiders up close.
The room fell silent as the Aurion envoys placed several photographs on the table. They were brutal, undeniable—images of Grathok Village after the massacre: scorched homes, butchered men, women and children lying lifeless where they had fallen.
Father Alric's hands trembled as his eyes locked onto the images. Sir Cedric stiffened, beads of sweat forming at his temples.
Elena Choi, the lead envoy for this meeting, spoke first, her tone controlled but cutting.
"This is what your people did. This is what you call spreading faith. Tell me—if this happened in your village, to your family, would you call it holy?"
The priest faltered, his voice barely above a whisper. "We… we were fulfilling the sacred duty of the Church. The barbarians rejected salvation. We—"
"Salvation?" one of the Aurion officers snapped. "That's what you call burning children alive?"
Cedric's fists clenched at his sides. "Those tribes were violent. They refused to listen. We—"
Elena's voice grew colder. She slid one photo closer to them, showing a charred body clutching what looked like a handmade doll.
"This is not faith. This is barbarism. If anyone tried to do this on Aurion soil, we would not call it preaching. We would call it murder—and deal with it as such."
The priest looked down, shame flickering across his face. Cedric remained silent, though his jaw tightened.
Another envoy leaned forward, voice steady but firm. "We will not stop you from speaking of your god. But if you raise a sword to force belief on anyone in Aurion lands—know that it will be the last thing you ever do."
The medieval envoys exchanged tense glances. Father Alric looked as if the weight of the images was crushing him. Cedric, however, masked his unease behind a stoic expression, though his silence said more than words.
For the first time, they began to realize that in this land, their faith—and the power it once carried—meant nothing.
The tense atmosphere slowly eased as the topic shifted.
One of the Aurion envoys, a young cultural attaché named Marisse Tan, smiled as she brought out a new proposal.
"We've seen much division between our peoples these past weeks. But we believe there is a better path—one where our nations can learn from each other, not fear each other."
She placed a folder on the table, filled with papers detailing a new exchange program.
"We'd like to propose student exchanges. Young people from Aurion will study in your academies, live among your people, and learn your history and traditions. Likewise, your brightest youths can study in our schools, experience our sciences, and see what life is like in Aurion."
The medieval envoys exchanged looks of confusion, but also intrigue. Father Alric tilted his head. "You would… send your children to live among us? To learn from us?"
"Yes," Marisse said warmly. "Many of our students would be fascinated to know what life was like in a world so different from theirs. Imagine the stories they could bring home—the lessons they could share."
Lord Brenwick, who had remained silent for most of the talks, finally spoke. "And… what would our youths gain from your schools?"
"They would see a world that has reached far beyond swords and plows," replied one of the Aurion advisors. "They would learn arts, sciences, and philosophies that could enrich your kingdom. Knowledge that may help your people thrive without war or conquest."
Sir Cedric still looked skeptical, but even he couldn't hide a spark of curiosity at the thought of a world so advanced being open enough to invite their youths.
Father Alric gave a small, tentative smile. "Perhaps… perhaps it is good. If our children know each other, maybe they will not see only differences, but also common ground."
The mood in the room softened. For the first time since the talks began, the two sides felt less like enemies—and more like neighbors trying to understand each other.
When the meeting concluded, both sides rose from their seats. The Aurion envoys extended their hands—an instinctive gesture of goodwill.
Lord Carsten Deymar hesitated, glancing at Elena Choi's outstretched hand as if unsure whether it was some form of challenge. Slowly, he grasped it, the unfamiliar gesture feeling oddly intimate. Sir Garrick Thorne and Father Alric followed suit, each awkwardly copying the motion. Selvara Wynne, however, merely tilted her head, eyeing Elena's hand before reluctantly offering her own with a faint scowl.
The room erupted with the clicking and flashing of cameras. Bright bursts of light reflected off the polished table, startling the medieval envoys. Sir Garrick's hand instinctively drifted toward the hilt of his sword before he stopped himself, realizing no harm had come.
"What sorcery is this?" Carsten muttered under his breath, momentarily blinded by another flash.
"They call it… camera," Father Alric whispered, unsure of the word's meaning but remembering hearing it before. "It captures… images."
Selvara narrowed her eyes at the reporters clustered at the edges of the room. "Why are they speaking to those… commoners?" she murmured.
"They are not just commoners," Elena explained calmly, overhearing her. "They are reporters. They inform the people of our nation about what is happening here. Our citizens have the right to know what agreements are being made in their name."
Carsten's brow furrowed. "So… the entire nation knows of this meeting?"
"Exactly," Marisse Tan said with a small smile. "In Aurion, leaders answer to the people. Transparency is our law."
To the medieval envoys, the idea was strange—leaders explaining themselves to the masses felt absurd. Yet as they watched the flashes continue and the envoys calmly addressing questions from the reporters, they realized this was not for show.
These "barbarians," as some in the court still called them, truly lived by rules far removed from power and privilege as they knew it.
When one of the reporters asked Carsten how he felt about the talks, he froze for a moment, unsure if he was even allowed to speak. After an awkward pause, he managed, "We… believe today's talks were… enlightening."
The cameras clicked again.
It was a simple answer—but for the first time, the medieval envoys understood they were being seen not just by Aurion's leaders, but by its people as well.