One evening, three Lords sat around Antony’s smaller conference table. Lord Mira Vera of a Rabbit Beastkin territory, Lord Tomas Reed of a Human farming territory, and Lord Kel Oris, who governed a mixed Kobold-Dwarf mining settlement.
Mira looked toward Antony.
"You’re making this difficult for everyone," she said.
Antony smiled.
"Good evening to you too, miss Mira."
She didn’t smile back.
"Garron is increasing inspections on the southern routes."
"Because of me?"
"Because you refused him."
Kel snorted.
"He was going to do it eventually."
Mira turned to him, her gaze sharp.
"You don’t know that."
"I’ve paid him four percent of my copper exports for three years for the road access."
Antony looked at him.
"Four percent?"
"It started at two."
Mira became quiet.
He leaned back.
"That’s why I’m not signing," Antony said.
She looked toward him.
"I’m not saying you should."
"You sound like you are."
"I’m saying your refusal affects the rest of us."
"Then why are you here?"
Silence filled the room.
Tomas answered.
"Because if you survive it, everyone learns Garron can be refused."
Antony looked toward him as he continued.
"And if you fail, everyone learns the opposite."
That was probably the most honest thing anyone had said all evening.
He nodded.
"Makes sense."
Kel folded his arms.
"So what exactly are you offering?"
"Nothing dramatic," he said.
"Then why call us?"
"Because Garron can isolate one territory." Antony looked around the table. "But four is harder."
Mira’s eyes narrowed.
"Alliance?"
"No."
"Military pact?"
"No."
"Then what? Stop with this criptic wording," Mira snapped.
"Trade redundancy."
Kel frowned.
Antony explained.
"We don’t sign exclusive agreements. We don’t promise armies. We don’t provoke Garron. We simply make sure none of us depends entirely on one road, one mine, one merchant network, or one stronger Lord."
Tomas leaned forward.
"Shared routes."
"Exactly."
Mira looked thoughtful.
"Emergency food exchange?"
"If someone has a bad harvest."
Kel added, "Alternative ore contracts."
Antony nodded.
"At normal prices."
Kel laughed.
"Now you’re asking too much."
He smiled.
"For you, normal plus three percent."
"Five."
"Three."
"Four."
"Done," Antony cheerfully said.
Mira stared at them.
"Did you just negotiate during the proposal?"
"Yes."
"Are you always like this?"
Oren, sitting quietly near the wall, answered.
"Unfortunately."
Antony gave him a look.
The meeting lasted until late evening, nothing revolutionary emerged. Just three small trade agreements and a private understanding that they would warn one another if outside pressure began affecting shared routes.
It was enough.
When the others finally left, Antony remained in the room with Oren.
Oren poured himself water.
"You realize what you just did."
"Made four trade agreements," he nonchalantly replied.
"Built the beginning of a political bloc."
Antony frowned.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Oren drank.
"Call it whatever makes you sleep better but you’ve gone ahead and done it now."
Antony sighed.
"I’m not trying to challenge Garron."
"Intent doesn’t determine perception," Oren said.
He hated when Oren was right. Unfortunately, Oren was right often enough to become irritating.
Two days later, Garron’s response arrived through the system.
[Regional Diplomatic Notice]
[Lord Garron Serial has issued a formal resource arbitration request concerning the Western Iron Deposit.]
[Claimants:]
[Lord Antony Urelias - Urelias Territory.]
[Lord Hester Morne - Morne Territory.]
[Proposed Arbitrator: Lord Garron Serial.]
Antony stared at the notification, then laughed. Roxanna, standing across their bedroom while changing Michael, looked over.
"That sounds unhealthy."
He showed her the prompt. She read it, her expression becoming amused.
"He wants you to acknowledge his authority without signing the agreement."
"Exactly."
"What happens if you refuse?"
"I look unreasonable."
"And if you accept?"
"I legitimize him as arbitrator."
Roxanna finished fastening Michael’s clothes.
"What will you do?"
He looked at the notification, then dismissed it.
"Decline the dispute."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You don’t want the mine?"
"I want the mine but I want independence more."
He walked toward them.
Michael was lying on his back, staring at his own hands with deep concentration.
Antony leaned over.
His son immediately turned his head toward him.
"Hello."
Michael kicked.
He smiled.
She watched both of them.
"You’re different now."
He glanced toward her.
"Different?"
"Five years ago you probably would have surrendered the mine immediately just to avoid trouble."
"I am surrendering it."
"No." She shook her head. "You’re choosing which battle matters."
Antony thought about that, maybe she was right. Before Michael, he had valued obscurity above almost everything.
If a stronger Lord wanted a border resource, he would probably have walked away before the argument even started. Now he was still walking away from the mine because he understood Garron’s game.
That distinction mattered.
Michael suddenly rolled onto his side. Both parents immediately froze.
Antony pointed.
"Roxanna look."
"I can see it."
Michael struggled; one tiny leg kicked as he tried to mive. He made an annoyed noise, before, with considerable effort, rolled onto his stomach.
Antony’s eyes widened.
"He did it."
Roxanna smiled immediately.
"He did."
Michael lay there for a moment, apparently surprised by his own success, then he pushed weakly against the mattress.
His head barely rose. It wobbled before dropping.
Antony looked more excited than he had after signing four trade agreements.
"Again."
Roxanna laughed.
"Sweetheart, he isn’t performing for you."
"He can do it again, he’s my son afterall."
Michael pushed again and his head lifted. This time he held it slightly longer.
Antony grinned.
"Look at him."
Roxanna sat beside the baby.
"I am looking."
"He has excellent neck strength."
"That is a very father thing to say."
"It’s true."
Michael’s head dropped again and he became angry. His little arms moved uselessly as he tried to redo it again.
Antony leaned closer.
"Don’t get mad. You literally learned this thirty seconds ago," he softly said.
Michael made an increasingly frustrated noise.
Roxanna smiled.
"He has your patience."
He looked offended.
"My patience is excellent."
She flatly stared at him.
"Yesterday you threatened a document, I don’t think you notice how ridiculous it is watching from the outside."
"It deserved it."
Michael tried again.
This time, something faint moved through the room that neither parent immediately noticed.
It was a tiny pulse,barely visible, like a ripple of golden light beneath Michael’s skin.
Roxanna’s smile faded as her eyes sharpened.
Antony noticed the change in her expression.
"What?"
She didn’t answer immediately.
Michael pushed again and another faint pulse came, stronger this time.
She leaned closer.
"Sweetheart."
His amusement disappeared.
"What is it?" He asked.
She stared at their son.
"His mana."
Antony looked down.
Michael’s tiny hands pressed against the mattress. A thin golden glow appeared between his fingers.
He froze.
Their son was three months old and for the first time since his birth, the mana inside Michael was beginning to move on its own.