Eros was relieved when the majority of his fellows seemed keen on his suggestion of peace. Diaval was more cautious about it, but that was to be expected. He and Abraham agreed that caution should be taken, and they brought up some very valid points...
The issue came from Mileania. Of course it did. Why else bring a blood soaked brute who refused to relent his weapons--and he'd been asked so politely, too--to a place of neutrality. Eros slid the glasses down to the bridge of his nose, the world now swimming in shades of pink. Around everyone in the room were strings. It was easy to determine what they meant; he'd been picking apart the tangled web of relationships from the moment he was born. The threads binding Zacrae to Abraham were bright, a symbol of their feelings for one another. There was another thread in her heart, one much darker that spiraled equally with both light and dark. Unusual. He'd have to study that later, but for now he turned his attention to the Lady of Light and her--gag--charming son.
The threads binding them together were tight. It almost looked like Locke was a puppet of his dear mother, with the familial strings wrapped so tightly around him... He had to stifle a laugh, but stopped himself by removing the heart-shaped glasses from his eyes again, returning the world to its normal hues. "That explains a lot," he mumbled to himself.
Propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward in his chair, he lazily waved a hand and asked, "How are you so sure they're probing for weaknesses? And why just your kingdom? Until I hear word that the demons are also probing for 'weaknesses' in our Plenty brethren, forgive me for taking your assumptions with a grain of salt. It does none of us any good to jump to conclusions." Eros leaned back in his chair and gave a sigh. "It's not exactly a secret that the people on the border lands are suffering. Nothing has been able to grow their. Is it so hard to assume that these parties are searching for things to bring back so that they may provide for their own families." His eyes narrowed, and the young lord of love looked uncharacteristically sour.
"But you don't have to worry about that, do you? Protected by your castle, fed by servants? You haven't had your ancestral homeland stripped away from you because of this war. Not as the lands of Faith and Love have. Not as Martyr and Terror have, either." He brought his hands down to rap the table, rising to his feet. "If we spent more time trying to help the people of these ruined lands rebuild, maybe they wouldn't feel the need to raid! Who are you to speak of mercy when we lords--when none of us--have done nothing to show our brethren any sort of good faith? Not taking advantage of their lack or Oracle isn't mercy, Mileania."
Eros paused only to sip from his glass before continuing his passionate speech. Bringing a hand to his chest he declared, "We have fertile lands that grow great yields. We have rivers we can fish plentifully from. We have better access to sea trade with Sleibte. We have the things we can use to help them in excess! We can restore the four displaced kingdoms to their rightful lands and maybe begin to repair the scar on the earth that this pointless war has brought! We are not above negotiating with them. Vaerath is our god just as much as Haliea is theirs, and perhaps if we hadn't been so far removed from the other for millennia we wouldn't fear the words "Vaerath is with us" because he's with all of us."
He stared pointedly at the Light royals, lips drawn into a thin frown and resolve unwavering. "If the hearts of the monarchs are in it, the people will follow. Such is the way of ruling. Putting the needs of our people first. I don't think the demons are so callous as to continue using their own people as canon fodder." He let his gaze move to the other royals. Abraham and Calista had been on board for peace from the get go, but had he convinced Diaval? There was no turning back now, not after his speech...
"All in favor of reaching out to the Demon Lords to discuss peace, say Aye."
The issue came from Mileania. Of course it did. Why else bring a blood soaked brute who refused to relent his weapons--and he'd been asked so politely, too--to a place of neutrality. Eros slid the glasses down to the bridge of his nose, the world now swimming in shades of pink. Around everyone in the room were strings. It was easy to determine what they meant; he'd been picking apart the tangled web of relationships from the moment he was born. The threads binding Zacrae to Abraham were bright, a symbol of their feelings for one another. There was another thread in her heart, one much darker that spiraled equally with both light and dark. Unusual. He'd have to study that later, but for now he turned his attention to the Lady of Light and her--gag--charming son.
The threads binding them together were tight. It almost looked like Locke was a puppet of his dear mother, with the familial strings wrapped so tightly around him... He had to stifle a laugh, but stopped himself by removing the heart-shaped glasses from his eyes again, returning the world to its normal hues. "That explains a lot," he mumbled to himself.
Propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward in his chair, he lazily waved a hand and asked, "How are you so sure they're probing for weaknesses? And why just your kingdom? Until I hear word that the demons are also probing for 'weaknesses' in our Plenty brethren, forgive me for taking your assumptions with a grain of salt. It does none of us any good to jump to conclusions." Eros leaned back in his chair and gave a sigh. "It's not exactly a secret that the people on the border lands are suffering. Nothing has been able to grow their. Is it so hard to assume that these parties are searching for things to bring back so that they may provide for their own families." His eyes narrowed, and the young lord of love looked uncharacteristically sour.
"But you don't have to worry about that, do you? Protected by your castle, fed by servants? You haven't had your ancestral homeland stripped away from you because of this war. Not as the lands of Faith and Love have. Not as Martyr and Terror have, either." He brought his hands down to rap the table, rising to his feet. "If we spent more time trying to help the people of these ruined lands rebuild, maybe they wouldn't feel the need to raid! Who are you to speak of mercy when we lords--when none of us--have done nothing to show our brethren any sort of good faith? Not taking advantage of their lack or Oracle isn't mercy, Mileania."
Eros paused only to sip from his glass before continuing his passionate speech. Bringing a hand to his chest he declared, "We have fertile lands that grow great yields. We have rivers we can fish plentifully from. We have better access to sea trade with Sleibte. We have the things we can use to help them in excess! We can restore the four displaced kingdoms to their rightful lands and maybe begin to repair the scar on the earth that this pointless war has brought! We are not above negotiating with them. Vaerath is our god just as much as Haliea is theirs, and perhaps if we hadn't been so far removed from the other for millennia we wouldn't fear the words "Vaerath is with us" because he's with all of us."
He stared pointedly at the Light royals, lips drawn into a thin frown and resolve unwavering. "If the hearts of the monarchs are in it, the people will follow. Such is the way of ruling. Putting the needs of our people first. I don't think the demons are so callous as to continue using their own people as canon fodder." He let his gaze move to the other royals. Abraham and Calista had been on board for peace from the get go, but had he convinced Diaval? There was no turning back now, not after his speech...
"All in favor of reaching out to the Demon Lords to discuss peace, say Aye."
