Chapter 330: Chapter 321 – Alvor & Orin

After the meeting with Avalon’s Sovereign concluded, Orin followed his Father and their entourage back to their temporary lodgings. The cold winter air filled his lungs as they walked, freshening his spirits, but his mind remained a chaotic swirl of thoughts. The previous day of exploring Avalon lingered vividly in his memory, which was now mixed in with the Sovereign’s words and the way he conducted himself. To Orin, that man was dangerous, not in a bad way, not like when he heard how it was to meet with one of the Ishillian Emperors. But still dangerous. He felt that he would not bend and would do anything to ensure his kingdom’s well-being. He understood why, and he also realized that if Atuvia pressed too hard in the future, the Sovereign would, for sure, retaliate one way or another. There will be others who will side with him when the time comes, and if his country waits too long or squanders the opportunity, gambling on more significant future profits, it will be too late to do something about it.

The sitdown between them at home that evening was a subdued affair. Alvor spoke sparingly, his demeanor calm but contemplative. Orin could tell his Father was still processing the discussions with Sovereign Leon, weighing the implications of every word exchanged and every slip of the tongue, trying to determine if they were clues or genuine mistakes on the Sovereign’s part. Or did he intentionally let some information slip? Like the fact he managed to tame the black blood of the earth? But Orin had his own thoughts, and as they finished their meeting and he remained alone with his Father, he knew he couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“Father,” Orin began, his voice insistent. “May I speak with you clearly?”

“Hm?” Alvor raised an eyebrow, but after a moment, he nodded. “Of course. No need to hold back. That is why I brought you here, so speak. Say it without worries or barriers, my son!”

“Well…” He hesitated, looking out the window, watching the city and its orange lights. His eyes moved to the pipes in their home, radiating heat and warming them in the winter. By now, he knew it was in every residence in this city. Nobody here went cold in the winter, unlike back home.

“What’s on your mind, son?” Alvor asked, leaning back in his chair, his expression patient but knowing when to nudge his son back on track.

“A lot…” Orin hesitated briefly, then began, “Father, I’ve been thinking about everything I’ve seen, and I have only been here for a day. This place isn’t just a simple city.”

“I wouldn’t call it simple, no.”

“I mean that this place is more than that. It is an ideal. The way they’ve organized themselves, the education, the infrastructure… it’s unlike anything in Atuvia. And everyone coming here is noticing it.”

“That much is clear,” Alvor replied. “But what are you getting at?”

“Ideals can take root in the mind… and they can grow.” Orin leaned forward, his voice also growing more fervent. “Atuvia can’t survive on its own, and I don’t think I am the only one who came to this realization. The past two harsh winters only a few years apart proved that amply. Our trade routes froze over, our people starved, and the League splintered. Our Guilds’ two regions teetered on collapse until we made contact with Avalon. We’re not a self-sustaining nation, Father. We’re traders, always dependent on others, and because we never tried to be anything else, we are now stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“That we are…” Alvor agreed with a long sigh.

“But if we align ourselves with Avalon—truly partner with them—we’d have the stability we’ve been chasing after.”

“Partners?” Alvor’s brow furrowed. “And you think Sovereign Leon’s terms will allow for a true partnership? He’s a shrewd man, Orin. You saw it. He doesn’t do charity. Even if we partner up more than we already had, we would still not be equals.”

“Of course not! And I would not ask for charity,” Orin countered. “I would be asking for foresight. We need their innovations, their systems, their mindset. You heard him; he expects his inventions to spread, and I agree that it will spread throughout the continent. I know we are already copying, but we need an official partnership, Father. We never even tried asking him for the blueprints; we just assumed those were out of the question! If we miss out on it…" He trailed off, pausing for a moment, "We need to adapt and evolve if we’re going to thrive in the future! Look at their education system. Every child learns to read and think critically. Their people are their greatest resource, and they’ve ensured that resource is cultivated to its fullest. What is their population? Our two cities are probably double their numbers! We need to cultivate it just the same.”

“Ambition can be dangerous,” Alvor warned, echoing his earlier words as Orin got more and more excited. “You’re young, my son. You see the glitter of Avalon, but you don’t yet see the cost of achieving it. And transferring it to Atuvia, what price would we have to pay to implement it?”

“The cost of not achieving it is much greater,” Orin argued. “If we don’t adapt, someone else will force us to. Or worse, someone else will do it and take our spot. Then, we will have no other choice but to fight for scraps. It’s better to choose our allies than to wait and be conquered or left behind. Avalon doesn’t need to dominate us; simply ignoring us would be enough to bring us back down. It wouldn't be kneeling then; it would be us lying there dead. Father, we can offer them what we’ve always been good at: trade, logistics, and commerce, way before they spread their own influence because when that happens, they would no longer require us. And in return, we gain security, knowledge, and progress.”

“…” Alvor’s expression darkened, and he stared into the darkness of the night for a long moment. “You speak as though we should abandon our independence entirely.”

“No,” Orin replied firmly. “Not abandon it. Protect it. Avalon doesn’t need to rule us to ensure our survival. They just need us to stand with them. Together, we’d be stronger than either of us alone. Isn’t it what he did with the other part of Ishillia that he turned away from the Emperor? The proof is already in his past actions.”

“Or he couldn’t take them away because of the Empress,” Alvor answered, but from what Orin had gathered, that wasn’t the case.

“Imagine an Atuvia where every child can read, where our cities are as orderly as Avalon’s, where winters don’t cripple us because we have the infrastructure to weather them.” He continued, “Where trains can still cut through the snow, and we can continue trading. Where we don’t need to beg for food because even our hard soils are being worked by tractors. That’s the future we need to keep surviving.”

“…” Alvor’s gaze silently shifted to his son, searching his face, letting a breath out through his nostrils. “You’ve thought deeply about this.”

“How could I not?” Orin chuckled, his voice softening. “I walked through those streets only once, Father. Yet I saw a city that thrives because its people believe in something bigger than themselves. They are being taught that thinking since they are born! They’ve created a system that works for everyone. If Atuvia can’t become something similar on its own, then we need to learn from those who can show us the way. And…” He stopped, thinking a little, deciding to say it in a way that would most resonate with his Father and probably the rest of the Chairmen when he relays it to them. “If we make Avalon invest in Atuvia, then they would be less likely to abandon it. Nobody, merchant or not, would want to see their investment fail.”

Silence settled between them, broken only by Alvor's breathing whenever he let out another sigh. Finally, he grunted and rose from his chair, pacing slowly across the room.

“You’re asking me to take a massive risk, Orin. To gamble Atuvia’s future on the hope that Avalon won’t take advantage of us. And you expect me to convince the others to do so, too!”

“I’m asking you to see what I’ve seen. If you can and the others can’t then send them here.” Orin replied calmly. “Avalon’s strength isn’t in its machines or its wealth. It’s in its people. And if we can learn to build that same strength, we’ll never need to kneel to anyone again. I believe it.”

“Heh…” Alvor stopped and looked back at his son, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re growing up faster than I expected. Perhaps I should have brought you to Avalon the first time, too.”

“It’s not too late, Father,” Orin spoke earnestly. “We are still able to do it. I will speak with my friends back home. We may still be young, but I know they will agree with me and put pressure on the other Chairmen.”

“You do that.” Alvor nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Very well. I’ll consider your words. But if we’re going to pursue this, we’ll need a proper plan. And it won’t be easy to make the others see your way.”

“Nothing worth doing ever is easy,” Orin said with a small smile. “I read it in one of Avalon’s books.”

“Heh, ain’t that right?” His Father laughed, and as Alvor sat back in his chair, Orin took the opportunity to elaborate, his voice steady but impassioned. “If you want to convince the others, make them think about the winters, Father. Two seasons where we were powerless to save our people. Trade collapsed, food supplies were gone, and what did we have to show for it? Nothing. When we had the gold but no way to spend it, we couldn’t eat it. We cannot go through that again. Avalon’s systems—their railways, their centralized organization, even their public buildings—are exactly what we need. They’ve shown it’s possible to create a society that’s resilient to hardship. And they would be willing to sell it. IF we ASK for it.”

“You may be right.” Alvor steepled his fingers, his eyes narrowing. “You’re putting a lot of faith in their way of life, Orin. But Atuvia has its own identity. We’re traders, not industrialists. We can’t just copy Avalon and expect it to work; we tried it, and yet they had to send their own to correct our railway system because it was sub-par. Even the copied tractor is half as efficient and broke down multiple times since we began making it.”

“Then tell the Chairmen that we don’t need to copy them entirely or not from scratch!” Orin countered. “We just have to ask them to help us adapt and learn. While Avalon invests in us to bring us up to their standard, let them spend the money for it. We can take the elements that make sense to us and implement them in the meantime. For instance, education. What if every Atuvian child could read and write just the same? What if they could manage numbers as easily as speaking? Then, we won’t need to pay for their help all the time.”

“Education isn’t a bad idea, but I already hear the Chairmen’s words,” Alvor admitted. “That it costs money. Resources we don’t have when we are trading for survival, too.”

“That’s where Avalon comes in again,” Orin continued quickly. “If we align ourselves with them, we could negotiate for their support. Not charity, but a partnership. They’re already investing in our railways and infrastructure. Let’s take it a step further. Let them help us establish schools, libraries, and medical facilities. They have book printing nailed down anyway. In return, we could offer them exclusive rights for future inventions and access to future resources!”

“Anything in the future is called a debt, Orin.” Alvor’s lips tightened. “You’re talking about tying Atuvia’s future to Avalon’s. They won’t like it! No merchant wants to go into the red!”

“Yes, I know,” Orin said firmly. “But remind them that the alternative is worse. If we don’t adapt, another power will. Or we will simply fade away, become tiny city-states as in the past as Atuvia falls apart; we can start betting on when will we be gobbled up by others.”

“If we tie ourselves to them,” Alvor pointed out, “we would also gain their enemies.”

“Avalon’s enemies would think twice about attacking us if we were allied with them,” Orin argued. “Especially if the Sovereign indeed finishes Ishillia off. That’s the kind of ally we need, a big shield for us.”

Alvor let out a final heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes, pinching the ridge of his nose, his face lined with thought. Orin felt a pang of guilt for pushing so hard, but he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. Not when the stakes were so high.

“You’re asking for a lot, Orin,” Alvor said at last. “But I can see your passion. You believe in this.”

“I do,” Orin nodded quietly. “Because I believe in Atuvia, in our home. And I believe we can be more than what we are now. The others must see it too before it is too late!”

“That will be the hard part.” Alvor opened his eyes and studied his son for a long moment, then finally nodded. “Very well. I’ll do my best. But… this may very well destroy us if the other Chairmen refuse to bend their backs.”

“Then, we will deserve it.” Orin whispered, “That’s the will of the Gods manifesting our fate, then.”

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