Linton Accords

A/N: It's a long time since a new chapter, and I've been thinking about how I will approach the story based on what I've written before. Some parts within this chapter may look a bit "outlandish." This chapter is a decision of the ideas that I can muster. Hopefully, the approaches made by the other characters are satisfactory.

For the POV's, I will have to work on making them flow well within the story.

———

JOINT BASE CENTRAL, ENROUTE TO LINTON —

The Black Hawk soars over the sumptuous fields of Oyerat as we fly across the convoy of vehicles from the 2nd BCT. Soon after, the empty asphalt roads and trees are what I can only see.

"We're briefed on an aspect that has little to any information, but we will get the job done." Staff Sergeant Cox says to the squad.

"I will not repeat this once again. Mayor Lysander is recognized moving around in captivity at Beta camp. From the orders of the Colonel, we are to land behind Beta with the other birds to secure the location and capture any stragglers. If we were to somehow have contact with the main force of the Southerners, the 2nd BCT is supporting from the south. Is that understood!?" I hear my CO trying his darn best to screech.

"Yes, sir!" The Bull Riders shout in the loud Black Hawk. We're doing a direct confrontation with the outside world. I sigh as I don't really know what's going to happen next.

I see him looking out of the helicopter, "We get dirty, and the world stays clean-" Cox continues his sentence inside the Black Hawk, "That's the mission." I can barely hear the first half of what he just said.

"Roger, sir!" The squad yells. We don't want to make him repeat that again. Hmm... what Sergeant Cox said sounds familiar.

A couple of minutes has passed, I think. I'm dangling my legs on the left side of the Black Hawk. In front of me are stone walls from the medieval era and a ton of our green vehicles. It's significantly different compared to the last time I've deployed in there. That's Linton?

———

SOUTHERN ARMY ENCAMPMENT —

"Sir, we're now landing on Beta." Staff Sergeant Peay says to me.

"Yes, I can see that, Staff Sergeant." The trees of the supposed Grand Forest and the Beta encampment is growing in size, obviously. Looking back at Linton, I wasn't expecting the town to be in that way. I was thinking of some one-story glass buildings, but there are still some medieval parts on the other side of Linton.

As the Black Hawk descends, I see our escort helicopters, consisting of a Chinook and another Black Hawk landing ahead of us, emitting soldiers onto the grass.

I feel the descent coming to a stop as the Black Hawk touches down on the ground. The view of the Beta encampment is in full detail from here. Smaller than I've assumed it to be compared to Alpha. In fact, it's noticeable from here than what the picture says. Some soldiers from the encampment are looking at us with some awe that I see on their faces.

"Move! Move! Move!" The squad leader shouts inside the helicopter, and the two fire teams of the squad rush out of this Black Hawk.

As I grab the two plastic chairs by me, I step off the Black Hawk as the last riders. I tidy up my blue armband, and I walk forth. Soldiers are readying their M4A1 Carbines, M249 Machine Guns, and the door gunners of the helicopters.

As the three helicopters whine down, I look for Peay, "Staff Sergeant, present them our paper."

"Yes, sir!" Staff Sergeant Peay signals at Private Riley to give the message to one of the antique troops of Beta.

My soldier walks ahead some long-distance and hands out a paper to one of the men standing with tranquility in the group. Somehow, the looks on their grimaces still show us that they're in a deep state of shock.

As he hands out the paper, the frightened troop reads it, then runs to someplace within the encampment as his gear clinks. I hope what comes out of the encampment is the leader, not some line of medieval warriors. I can feel the tension here. God, we don't know what they have in stock for us, even though we can absolutely flatten them with the 2-82nd Field Artillery Regiment Paladins and the Division Artillery.

Ten figures appear from the Beta camp, with the terrified soldier that has sent the paper.

"So, this is the ghastly noise that everyone is talking about!" One of them shouts, who looks to be wearing some vivid clothing. I can tell that person is the leader of this Southern Army. He's surrounded by some heavily-equipped-looking knights in plate armor. So, is this his personal guard?

"Get the table," I speak to two of my men while inspecting my blue armband and my personal radio.

"Yes, sir." They comply as they rush out of my view.

I walk forth of my group, with my squad escorting me on the way to the leader of Beta camp. As I assemble the two plastic chairs and the two men setting up the plastic table, I sit on one of them, facing the encampment. The gale howls over my ears and my uniform. No need for helicopters to be disturbing our discussions.

The nine men progress ahead of their camp, with the one in a splurge of colors leading it. The other eight are knights. I think it's within talking distance as I hear the clinks of their gear.

The supposed leader stands behind the chair meant for him, with a shiny metal soldier at his side. He's not sitting at all. Hm? Did he forget something?

"I'm not allowing ourselves to sit equal with you. I'm Count Craith of the Issir territory. Who are you, fool?" He speaks. So, there are counts and stuff that the Southerners are using. Out of all of them, they chose this chap? His youthful appearance looks easy to determine but is also hard to deal with for the inexperienced.

I see how it is. I look up at Count Craith, "Colonel Albert Becker of the Unified States Army. We're here to do some talks on some important matters. It consists of Linton as a whole, the Unified States, and the Northern army on the other side of the town." I discourse.

"Kernel? What the heck is that rank? Low-lying nobility class in the Unified States? Are you meddling with the Northerners? Well, you're here now." He laughs.

That's stale. Although, Count Craith is right. It's some hundred years of my rank a bit too fresh. I just present papers on the table. If I remember, anything related to the Northerners is placed on the bottom of the terms. Handing the paper over to the leader shows the literature that we have. HQ has discussed that it tells them we're capable of reading and producing works of art. Time to find out if it really works.

"Sorry for disrespect, but I do appreciate the fine job on your records. Especially with the weird dragon-like black carriages behind you. However, we're not picking that up from the table." He struts.

"What do you want us to do?" I ask him in a calm demeanor.

"Have one of your men give me the paper. How hard is that?"

Not making any signs of annoyance to him, "I will present it to you, Lord Craith. No need for worries."

I present to him the papers from the table, "Ah... thank you." He says while holding it in front of himself.

As Count Craith reads our terms, he tosses the paper aside. I see it flying away from us as the wind carries it to god-knows-where.

"What kind of nonsense is this? We won't accept these demands that you are asking for." He crosses his arms. "We can barge in that broken-down wall in the town. Easy takings, eh?" Some clues from him discern to me that he probably didn't read the rest of the terms.

"That's why we're willing to negotiate those terms," I say to him.

"You got me. Now, we won't recognize your small nation. Especially when these Unified States are reaching out to the feeble Northerners on the other side of Linton that we're trying to liberate." Ah, he did read all of it. Hmm, I guess I underestimated him.

Count Craith continues, "We came here to continue the offensive on the eastern front of Skoaria. However, Linton is one of our primary goals. Give us control of the renowned town of Linton. We will provide your people democratic ideals that no one in Oyerat has ever heard of and autonomy within the new Skoarian government after we take over the treacherous aristocracy of the north." He gestures at his nearby soldier to give him a drink of water.

As he drinks from his wooden cup, I see his eyes wandering around our soldiers and our helicopters. I patiently wait for him to finish. Even though the dialogue is flipped on their side, I must be respectful.

As he passes the wooden cup to the same soldier, it's time to say something. I can't let him win over me. "So-" Count Craith halts my talk as he holds up his hand.

"No more discussion. Do you accept the terms, Kernel Albert Becker? You're wasting our time." He demands from me.

"What if we are to compromise, Lord Craith?"

"Tsk, I won't listen to that."

KABOOM.

ROAR.

I bounce my head to the source of the sound happening from two sides of my ears. An outburst of flashes and flames appears in the Grand Forest and the other large forest nearby. What's happening? There are dozens of dragons fighting over the Grand Forest. The dragons fly around the air over Linton, spewing fireballs from its mouths. I can't tell which dragons are from which side! Heck, some weird flashes of light and balls of flames are zooming towards the dragons from within the forests!

I look back to Count Craith, and he's at a distance from us. I guess I'm in awe for too long.

I think I see something in the distance going under the encampment, helicopters? It's just in time for the rest of the helicopters to arrive.

One of his soldiers speaks up to Count Craith, "Sire, they're reporting that our forces are routing from the flanks!"

I eavesdrop on their discussion, "Retreat... and stop battling the darn Northerners, as of the incoming session. Hand over Lord Lysander to them. I hope they keep their damn word." I'm astounded as I overhear them.

Seriously, I wasn't expecting things to go by this fast. The escape route for the Southerners is cut off before we even fired a shot.

Count Craith walks forward to where he was, as I see a troubled face on him. It's way different when he was displaying his pride in the Southern army. At last, we reeled him in.

Even though this goes against what we've planned for in letting the routed units flee the battlefield here, "Lord Craith, if your forces were to rout right now, they are gonna be in the hands of us."

Seems like he realized what's going on. "Fine. I might consider the offer."

I hear the thunderous ripples. Those sounds speak a message to me.

Our fighters are here.

"Hold on, we will be making an airshow," I say to the Count.

"Air... show?"

I look back up to the skies and see multiple gleaming lights emitting a trail of smoke directing right towards dragons. As it makes contact, it explodes into a fireball that the fluctuations break through the atmosphere. I hear the beast's screams in agonizing pain.

The darting steel arrows in the skies fly past and emit a booming sound.

My Radio Operator notifies me about a message, "Sir, Major General Rodqiruez tells you that Alpha is in."

I instinctively pick up my radio and look at the terrified Count, "This is Delta Charlie One. Beta is positive."

"Copy Delta Charlie One. Relaying message." I look at my watch to see how long it takes for the artillery to land. Hmm, it's around a minute. I put down my radio.

"Just... what are those creatures?" I hear the Count talk.

I look at him, "It will become apparent soon, Lord Craith."

His eyes are stern, "What?"

I speak into the corded phone from the RTO, "Fire for effect, over."

"Fire for effect, out." The other side replies.

"Relay the duties to the fire observers behind the encampment," I say to the RTO.

"Yes, sir." He walks away.

Craith slams down on the plastic table, "Are you listening-"

BOOM.

I hear the artillery of the division and the 2-82nd Field Artillery Regiment fire their weapons in the distance. That's the sound I want to catch in this conversation. Paladins, ah... I'm sincerely sorry for following one of your methods, Commander.

"Are you telling me that you don't agree with our terms again, sire?" I reply. He seems to be confused. Moreover, it looks like he cannot process the source of the booming sound of the artillery.

KABOOM.

A couple of klicks behind the encampment blows up in a fire of flames and fury. I can feel the whole area moving with the shockwaves and the vibrations. It's fucking loud here. Excellent fire mission. Just as it's finished, the jet fighters strike again. Excellent on both. After that, I hear gunshots happening from within the encampment.

"Good lord... what kind of magicians do you even field? To cause that large explosion requires legendary magicians with immeasurable resources. I don't even know what dragons this country possesses... we're in no position for now." Count Craith laments as he looks behind to see his encampment taken over and looking back up at the skies. He faces me again, "When will we actually talk in Linton?" I catch him to be in a bit of a rush to finish that sentence.

Even though a vehicle could work for traveling from this camp to Linton, we arranged for them to be on the helicopters if the talks succeed. "If you may, please follow me inside of the Black Hawk." I signal my nearby soldiers to extract Mayor Lysander from the encampment as I see him escorted out of the camp by my soldiers as they've successfully occupied the encampment.

———

LINTON —

The chatter of the room quiets down as the reckoned Southern leader presents himself to the room. Our soldiers direct the Southern delegation towards their seats across the Northerns on the other side of the room. I see Colonel Becker following the southern leader in soon after.

The looks on the two opposing commanders of the civil war are vicious. One that sees the other warmonger; another one sees the other warmonger. The two justifies who's less of a warmonger.

As the two sides discuss with their confidants, Colonel Becker takes a seat right by me.

He speaks softly and looks at the Southern leader, "That's Count Craith. He manages the Issir territory of Southern Skoaria. Can talk; can't do. Are my assumptions about the Northern leader correct?"

"Yeah, you're right. That venerable fellow in yellow silk with his two steel-plated guards is Duke Charleston of the city of Orkney." I pause for a second as Becker just predicted everything. I sigh, "You won the bet."

I hear him chuckle, "You owe me my coffee."

"Just get it yourself." I chuckle.

"Shh, just wait for Mayor Lysander to get here."

I'm astonished, "He's' all good?"

"Just a few medical check-ups, and that's all."

———

"Mayor, please enter through here." The green soldier in the blue armband opens the door for me. The breeze of cool air is surreal after being in the wretched heat for a prolonged time.

"Thank you," I say as I walk in the door. Inside is a big white room with glass windows full of interconnected tables and chairs.

My smile fades away as I see the two army leaders sitting on the opposite sides of the room.

As the green soldier leads me towards the chair that's for me, some familiar voice speaks out to my ears.

"Greetings, Lord Lysander! You're doing well!" An articulate voice expresses.

I look to see who it is, and it's Duke Charleston with his already white-ish mustache. That man didn't retire to the countryside? His personal guards seem to be growing old, too. Heh. Comparing him to Count Craith is literature to a fat pile of shit.

"Good to see you," I reply back as I take my seat in the middle of the table across Major General Rodriquez and Colonel Becker. Behind the two of them are some high-ranking staff officers that I can see. They have got the age, look, and attractive emblems of the Unified States Army. Plus, the blue armbands.

After looking around in this interestingly designed room, I notice Major General Rodriquez moving his mouth over some weird black stick.

"Good morning patricians, we're all here to talk into an agreement, correct?"

His voice just somehow got amplified by something? What the heck?

I didn't realize that each chair has its own black stick. Is this what the Unified States use to talk loud and clear in this environment?

"Yes, we are." The voice of Count Craith saturates the room as he utilizes the stick. He's a bloody wazzock. A young noble. I doubt that he really knows anything.

"You two?" Major General Rodriquez asks as he looks on my side of the room. I reasonably think he's referring to Duke Charleston and me.

"Yes, yes," I speak.

Duke Charleston simply nods.

The Major General looks at me, "Mayor Lysander, you will be the intermediary for the three sides in this conference."

I nod.

What?

———

After a gods' bones ton of deliberation, contentions, and screeching, we've finally come to an agreement. I bled sweat and tears through the whole ordeal. Being a mediator for this conference is a pain in the arse, in this cold room!

As I speak into this thing called a microphone, "Is everyone in an agreement?"

The three sides agree through verbal communication.

As the three sides agree, the Unified States will be the ones signing first. I see Major General Rodriquez coming to my table to sign. As the pen lifts off from the paper, his signature is quite unique. That text... it's fancy. So, this is what the Unified States call a signature instead of the signum domni.

Then comes Count Craith, and this is probably the only time I will ever be the closest to him ever again. His young age and the short, blond hair is a unique thing about that twat.

Finally, Duke Charleston signs the document. I notice him hesitating for a bit as he looks down on the paper. He writes down his signature shortly after.

After a brief chatter erupting in the room, it comes to a halt as I hear the door to the room opening.

I look to see who it is, and it's a blonde girl with sky-blue eyes in some chair with wheels. Commander? Wait... that's the other one.

I hear the chairs from the officers of the Unified States screech, "Comm-Ma'am."

I stand up, too, after seeing them get up.

She waves her hand to signal the two of us to sit back down.

"Major General, may I ask who this is?" It's the voice of Duke Charleston as he's examining the assistant of Sayuri.

"Satomi, the assistant to the leader of the Unified States."

The looks on the Count and the Duke are sure to be a surprise.

"What is she doing here?" Count Craith questions her.

"I've happened to be in this situation. On second thought, I will be making sure that things are going smoothly." She looks back at the Count.

She moves her chair with wheels to the desk I'm at while others are just waiting for her to settle down. On closer look, I notice that she has some sort of cast underneath the sleeves on her right arm.

She looks at me, "May I please see what you're holding?" Her quiet yet, elegant voice is charming for me to hear.

"Ah. Here it is." I hand the papers to her.

I view her sky-blue eyes wandering around the intricate black text of the Unified States' papers. I still cannot fathom how remarkable their print technology is.

"I still have doubts, but regardless, it's signed. How long can this take for it to be implemented?" She asks the Major General.

"Ma'am, around a couple of days. I believe you were briefed on this."

"Yes, I've been informed about this, Major General."

She continues, "I believe that this action goes against the orders of the Commander. Am I wrong, Major General?"

"Yes, ma'am. We found some documents somewhere."

I hear her sigh, "I don't know what she will do..."

She eyes the two leaders of the opposing sides. I don't believe anyone knows what's she's actually thinking in her wisdom.

"I don't think you've mentioned about our first victory here, Major General?" She looks at the Major General.

"No, ma'am."

I see her moving her chair back towards the wall, "We've defeated a large army of Scanosians."

My ears pick up hushed gasps from the Count's party and the Dukes.

"It's a pleasure to have you two in this treaty. I wouldn't want to see your armies in the same fate as those louts strolling across your country." She grins.

The chair creeks as the Count stands up, "You... crushed them?" He worriedly questions her.

"Yes. It's a total victory for us. All of the troops from the Scanosian army are either dead or imprisoned. Is that all, my Lord?"

He sits back down with a blank expression on his face. As I look at the Duke, his eloquence tells me that he's more afraid than surprised.

"So..." She moves over to Duke Charleston.

"Your grace, you will be needing this." I see her smile as she hands over some papers to the Duke. Is that a copy of this treaty?

"It's an honor." The Duke bows down.

She moves her chair over to Count Craith and smiles, "Lord Craith, you will also be needing this." She hands over the same papers that I can see over to the Count.

"Thank you..." He utters with a puzzled grimace.

Soon after giving him the papers, Satomi moves back to my table.

"Well... this is finished." She states.

The high-ranking members of the Unified States stood up, and they seem to be presenting some form of a handshake to the two sides. The two envoys to the two sides shake hands on the ones they're assigned to first. Soon after, everyone is exchanging some form of gratitude. I stand up from my chair, and I walk straight to Count Craith, who is standing up.

After he shakes some officer of the Unified States, the young Count looks at me.

"Lord-" He coughs. "Mayor Lysander." His grim expression downs on me.

I present my left hand, "Lord Craith."

He shakes my hand, "We'll be working co-operatively." He chuckles as he smiles.

This bozo. I don't know what he will actually gain from this agreement.

I smile, "It's rather interesting." We both let go.

———

LINTON, LINTON CITY HALL —

I settle down my personal belongings on the desk. As I inspect my wrists, there are some scars on them. I sit on the chair, lean back, and breathe a sigh of relief.

Getting their prisoners and weapons back to the armies is a pain.

"I finally get to be here again..." I murmur.

This cool air, exquisite craftsmanship of the desks, shelves, and everything! And this room is my area. Is this even a low-level governing position? I ponder.

Hearing what the Count has said in the discussion, the Unified States' governing is related to theirs in Southern Skoaria. I doubt that the people are comfortable there. If this man is in charge of some monarch title in a democratic country, I don't think they can produce good leaders. However... Northern Skoaria is a bit scary.

I take a sip from the cup of water on the desk.

Wow. That's cold.

I just don't get it... after this many years of fighting, do they agree on this single thing? All because of the Unified States?

What are they actually thinking? Even after being briefed on by Colonel Becker and Major General Rodriquez, I still don't know what they're conceiving.

So, they both will give the settlement to their country. Duke Charleston will present it to the crown of Northern Skoaria, and Count Craith will contribute that paper to this democratic body of the Southerners. Even if the leadership denies the agreement, the two leaders will be in some sort of peace.

If conflict happens, Unified States will be the arbitrator for the two sides.

Terms are that we get recognition, fighting ceases at this front, and for us to be independent. That's impressive.

I still remember hours ago being picked up by one of the green soldiers of the Unified States. Their appearance makes them out of this world... the thunder from the arrows, seeing dragons being hit by something that's not even capable from the top magicians of the Skoarian Grand Army!

I down from the cup of water again.

However... I still don't know what information they're keeping from me. Descendants from the gods? I question as I shrug my shoulders.

THUMP.

I look at the window to see what in God's name made that sound, and it's the construction soldiers from the army. He's wearing the familiar white construction hat and the ear mufflers that they usually wear. Finally, their blue armbands.

As I open the window, the loud sounds of machinery, helicopters, and warm air interrupt my silent, cold office.

"Mayor! We'll be renovating the district nearby! There will be some loud noises!" He shouts in front of me.

"Yes! I understand! Thank you!" I yell back at him. He walks away, and I close the window.

Silence. Oh my. As I look out the window, the large, magical vehicles are seamlessly moving without any difficulty. The force of a hundred magicians, all controlled by just one of them. In total, the power of a first-class magician.

In further realization, how did they achieve such construction? After he mentioned the ongoing civil projects outside, I can barely hear it now.