Chapter 331: Chapter 322 – Changing Atuvia

The chamber within the Goldlight Guild’s headquarters was lit with the warming glow of sunlight streaming through tall, stained-glass windows, a sign that spring was coming soon. The skies remained clear for multiple days in a row now, and although the weather was still cold, the snow would soon start to melt. The intricate designs within the most important part of the Goldlight Guild’s headquarters were designed by the best craftsmen, depicting the Guild’s illustrious history, going back almost 500 years. Around the long, polished table sat the leading figures of the alliance of the two guilds, facing Alvor, listening to him with grave expressions. He stood at the head, his face committed, his voice never faltering since he began his speech.

To his left sat Roven, another Chairman of Goldlight, already nodding in agreement before the meeting had even begun. He had visited Alvor the moment he returned, being the first to hear his opinions on what Atuvia should do next. On his right was Chairman Baldrin, who wore his usual unreadable expression, arms crossed, listening silently. Following them down the table sat the representatives of the Quickfeet Guild, led by Chairman Lissa Vrynn, who wore her skepticism plainly. Since Alvor started, her grimace became more and more visible, disliking the idea he was presenting. Beside her were two other Quickfeet Chairmen: a wiry older man, Torrin, and a quiet, sharp-eyed, pointy-nosed woman, Eryndel. While the former was also looking on skeptically, the latter’s expression was just as neutral as Baldrin’s.

“As I said at the start, I called you here urgently to discuss this critical opportunity,” Alvor stopped, his voice grave and somewhat commanding. “The advancements in Avalon have reshaped the balance of power. At least on this part of the continent. We cannot afford to dismiss the opportunity they offer!”

“What do you mean?” Torrin interjected, his voice laced with disdain. “Did you misspell domination?”

“No, I did not,” Alvor replied sharply. “As I said, it would be a partnership, not subjugation. Avalon has shown that progress is possible for all levels of society. Their systems, from education to infrastructure, are transforming their people into their greatest resource. If we act now, Atuvia can adopt these practices and thrive in the same way. If you don’t believe me, then travel there yourselves! Or just listen to your subordinates, visiting the city!”

“We heard them well.” Lissa’s brow furrowed, finally speaking up as she leaned forward, unable to hold it back anymore. “What you’re proposing is bold, Alvor. But what of Atuvia’s independence? The Goldlight’s success and our Quickfeet’s prosperity have always stemmed from our ability to maintain control over ourselves. Atuvia was directly created so our Guilds could work independently, within our rules, and not bow to the kingdoms around us. Aligning too closely with Avalon could put our fundamentals at the risk of being dismantled. We would be giving up our control, our grip over our own destiny! That is too much to ask for!”

“Control over our destiny?” Baldrin's voice was sharp, his eyes suddenly flashing, speaking up before Alvor could answer. “We nearly lost that during the last two long winters. Our people starved, and the League splintered! We are only able to have this conversation because Avalon’s railways ensured trade picked up once again, and we could import enough food. You’re suggesting we cling to pride while our nation falls further behind? What about the other parts of Atuvia? My latest news is that two of the four other guilds have disbanded because they were unable to survive this simple, regular winter! Then, the eastern part of the country is now being encroached on by their neighbors, taking advantage of the chaos!”

“That…” Lissa faltered for a moment, but another voice cut in to help her out.

“It’s not pride,” Eryndel spoke, her voice raspy like dry ice, her tone deeper than one would expect. “It’s caution. What Alvor proposes could work, but we must tread carefully. We can’t let Avalon dictate our future. Ishillia already took advantage of us previously, which was the start of the cracking of our country. Even if we splinter fully, our Guilds’ survival must be ensured with their independence intact. We can’t hand ourselves over to this Sovereign! We must not put on his leash!”

“I’m not asking us to surrender our autonomy,” Alvor said, his tone tired, sighing. “I’m asking us to be pragmatic. Look around. Our craftsmen struggle to replicate Avalonian designs. How’s the tractor coming along?” He asked, looking at the group from Quickfeet.

“We are making progress,” Lissa answered after a momentary silence. “We still have an issue with properly crafting the part that moves the tractor. It still breaks too quickly.”

“Then let us ask Sovereign Leon for help.” Alvor said firmly, “This partnership isn’t a surrender; it’s an investment in Atuvia’s future. What he said was enough proof to me. He would be willing to sell the actual blueprints and even the method to build it ourselves! We could hire Avalonians to teach us how to make them, and then we could pass it down to our people. Through establishing the same systems that are in place within Avalon.”

“And what if it fails?” Torrin pressed. “What if they ask too much for it? What if we hand them the keys to our economy, and they decide they don’t need us anymore? What you are telling us sounds like we would put ourselves into a spiral of debt!”

“At least we would have laid the groundwork for our survival,” Roven retorted. “We’ll have learned their methods, improved our systems, and ensured our continued existence. Or would you prefer to gamble on the old methods, hoping they’ll somehow be enough? As you have heard, two of us have already disbanded. What? Should we move to another country and become traders there? Is that different? Isn’t that the same? Putting a leash on our necks?”

The room grew quiet as the weight of his words settled over the group. Alvor let the silence linger before speaking again, taking a long breath.

“We have a choice,” he declared. “Adapt and thrive or cling to outdated practices and risk being left behind. If not us, then other powers will join them. I already caught wind that they have been opening on the western part of Ishillia, too, sending diplomats over to Lacri. I believe in Atuvia, but belief alone won’t carry us forward, not if others prove more useful than us while we argue amongst ourselves. We need action. And that action begins here.”

“He is right.” For a moment, the only sound was the faint creak of a chair as Baldrin shifted, speaking up. “You have my support,” he said calmly. “But this must be a measured partnership, not blind trust. Give and take.”

“I agree.” Roven nodded in accord. “I’ll back the proposal, too, but we’ll need guarantees from Avalon. Long-term ones.”

“And we should believe them, huh?” Torrin scowled, but after that one comment, he remained silent. Lissa exchanged a glance with Eryndel, who gave a subtle nod, giving her answer with her eyes.

“We’ll consider it,” Lissa spoke at last. “But this isn’t a decision we can make lightly. We will have a meeting ourselves back home again. No guarantees, though. We were once all nothing but simple city-states. We can return to be one again.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Just wait before you make a harsh decision.” Alvor inclined his head. “That’s all I ask. Consider it carefully. Our future depends on it.”

“That it does.” The others agreed, and the meeting ended without reaching anything concrete.

…

….

……

In a more modest meeting room within the recreational district, on the second floor of a restaurant, Orin found himself surrounded by the youthful leaders of Atuvia. They were the offsprings of current Chairmen and young upstarts who were aiming to bear the title one day. The room was filled with excited conversation, actual laughter, and the occasional clash of ideas. The total opposite of what his father was facing. They agreed with Orin, listening to the same type of speech as their parents. What they saw were opportunities and exciting adventures, already thinking about the future, where they make deals that would overshadow anything their parents ever achieved. Among them was a newly rising star, Eira Shastan, Lyria’s alter ego, who watched Orin with a charming smile while thinking about her work had just become much more manageable. Taking a deep breath, Orin stood up behind his table once again, his voice cutting through the din.

“I know many of you are skeptical about what my father and I are proposing,” he continued after letting them settle down a little of his initial speech.

“Sceptical? Us?” A voice asked, laughing. “Maybe my grandma will be, but that is because she is old and thinks everything new is stupid.”

Hearing him, many agreed and laughed, which made Orin also flash a smile. He then waved his hands again to silence the group.

“That is why you somehow have to make them think about the world we’re living in now. This is no longer the past but the present. Avalon is growing stronger every day, and we see it here on the streets through their own merchants and the goods we bring back! We all have subordinates who already tried establishing permanent locations within Avalon. If our parents and grandparents don’t see the implication, we will lose our own men to Avalon!”

“Maybe, but this is no longer about profit, Orin.” A young man with sharp features and a confident demeanor crossed his arms. “We’re not Avalon,” he said, tapping his index finger on the table before him. “We’re traders, not industrialists. What you’re suggesting would change the very nature of Atuvia.”

“Exactly,” Orin countered. “It’s time for that change. Our reliance on nothing but the thought of hustling goods back and forth has left us vulnerable. Look at our railways! They were not our invention, yet you would think a merchant would be the first to think about it! We had the greatest caravan fleet on the whole continent, no? Where is it now?! Whatever remained of it… they now only work because of the Avalonian intervention we got. Then, look at our schools. Most of our people can barely read as the fees for learning is something only we can afford. It may have worked for hundreds of years, but not for another hundred. Not with Avalon next to us!”

His words were echoed with agreement by all the others, the loudest of which belonged to a young woman.

“He is right!” Eira stepped forward, her voice smooth and persuasive. “Orin’s right,” she exclaimed, drawing the room’s attention onto herself. “I’ve seen Avalon’s systems firsthand. They’re efficient, innovative, and scalable. We can copy it. If we integrate their methods while maintaining our identity, we could become stronger than ever. I made deals with them, and they understood the rules of trade. We just have to ask for what we need and then negotiate a reasonable price.”

“And what if we lose our independence in the process?” another young woman asked, her tone somewhat wary.

“We won’t,” Orin answered. “Atuvia will always be Atuvia. But we can’t let fear of failure blind us to opportunities. Isn’t that a core tenet of a merchant? Adopting new ideas doesn’t mean abandoning who we are. It means evolving. We would become the best version of what our ancestors envisioned!”

“Yes.” Eira nodded. “Think about the possibilities. Modern schools give us more competent subordinates. Through them, we would build more efficient trade routes and advanced machinery, snowballing it until we would once again be the dominant trading force on the whole continent! We’d be securing our future. When someone thinks about getting something, they would come to us. Period.”

The room fell quiet as her words sank in, evoking sudden, glamorous dreams in many minds. Orin, sensing it happening, acted at once and quickly seized the moment.

“We have a chance to shape Atuvia’s future. But I can’t do it alone. I need all of you. Your ideas, your energy, your vision. Together, we can ensure we will thrive like never before! Our parents expect much from us; shouldn’t we then finally prove that they were right to do so? Even if they don’t like it, if we can show undeniable results, they won’t be able to deny it.”

One by one, heads nodded until the sharp-featured young man who had spoken earlier stepped up, looking at Orin.

“You’ve convinced me,” he sighed. “Let’s see where this leads.”

“Same!” Eira’s smile widened. “Count me in as well. I believe in this vision. Any suggestions?”

“There are!” Orin felt a surge of relief and determination. "We can establish our own conjoined organization. We can pool our resources and start trading on our own, independent from our parents. The more you put in, the more shares you get back. Then, we can trade independently with Avalon. We can do our own business, hire them, get the blueprints we need, and… if our parents want to use it? Then they can lease it from us.”

“Now…” another voice chuckled amongst the youngsters. “That is the true Atuvian spirit!”

Unbeknownst to Orin, laughing with the rest and feeling more fired up when he was in Avalon, Eira’s agreement was part of her scheme. What they didn't realize was that she didn't laugh with them; she laughed at them. Supporting his vision aligned perfectly with her goals, positioning her as a key player in the unfolding alliance between Avalon and Atuvia. What she herself didn’t realize was that Avalon’s spies were already watching her, prepared to use her ambitions to secure their own objectives, standing right next to her… bringing a new tray of refreshments.

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