Silence reigned in the room for nearly a minute after Pink finished her little show. The humans processing the information they'd been given. Personally I'm happy giving them as much time as they need, laying your head down on a table isn't exactly comfortable, but it's not as if I experience much in the way of physical discomfort and the sensation is novel enough. Not something I've ever thought to do before.

“Preposterous...” A whisper. “I have... Never have I heard of such nonsense!” The thin man beings to wail in his equally thin voice.

“Yes. There is discussion of the difference between the magic innately wielded by humans and the 'divine' magic used by the celestials. As a Grand Magus recognized by the guild, I have heard endless speculation on the matter – I've read the collected works of Aaron Katus, the famous mage-priest – and I've never heard of any mention of a 'balance' of mana to be maintained.

It's preposterous! Absurd on its face! You are asserting ...what? That there is a constant infusion on demonic energy into the world? From where – exactly? That that energy is going unused and that is the cause of The Encroachment? It doesn't even make any sense! Where is the supposed energy coming from? A more transparent ploy to spread your corruption could not be conceived of! I for one will have no part! Why are we even listening to this drivel?” He looks wild-eyed over to Duke Clearwater as he gibbers incoherently.

The duke is frowning, his expression pensive.

“Haah. Do you want to discuss theology human? Because I'm not interested. I am not here to educate you on how the Gods forged the world. We have a problem – a problem that is easily observable to anyone with an ounce of ability – and it is my intention to see it fixed.” I push my head back into my hands as I say that, facing the humans once more. Causing the temperature of the room to drop perceptibly, the humans faces overtaken as one by expressions of distress.

“'To see it fixed' you say... What precisely does that entail? While I have never heard of a 'balance of mana' your demonstration was …convincing. But I'm not certain what you expect us to be able to do.” The duke glances over at Pink. “You mentioned a deficit of demons as the primary cause but you are in the company of a Demon Lord, are you not?”

“To put it bluntly Ser Duke, it would be fair to say that the entire demonic population of Artas is currently, ah, in this room.” Pink smiles coyly.

The duke gives a slow nod in response. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of things.

“But to answer your question, there are a few methods that might be effective. The most promising avenue is a certain Holy Relic that we are fairly confident is somewhere here on Suprema. An item of power, stolen from Artas long ago.”

“A demonic artifact from the war?” Chelsea interjects casually. Earning a scathing and reproachful glare from the wizard.

“Why are you glaring at me like that Octavio? It's not any great secret that various magical artifacts of …questionable… origin make their way here and there, popping up in all the wrong places.” She flashes the wizard a cheeky smile.

“Don't play dumb you damned Tarisian, you know as well as I that those cursed items are nothing but harbingers of misfortune.” He scoffs. “Fitting that a pair of demons would be searching them out.”

“I take it you all are familiar with the Holy Relics then?” Pink asks, her voice tight with contained excitement.

“Hm. 'Familiar' would be overstating things I think. As Chelsea said though, it's no secret that following The Sundering a great many demonic artifacts found their way back into the Imperium and beyond. However, those items are all considered cursed and have mostly been lost. The Sundering was hundreds of years ago, long before my time – or the time of any living human – and they have been widely scattered in the interim." The duke says slowly.

"Mostly we only hear of a demonic artifact when its found its way into the hands of some unsuspecting fool and incited a massacre. A cursed sword with an insatiable thirst for blood that drives its wielder insane, for instance. The celestials used to take an interest in such things – they would descend and collect the artifacts for destruction – but in recent years they have been stretched too thin to bother.

"It's possible some of the older noble Houses may have such relics stashed away somewhere. Undoubtedly the Emperor does as well, in the coffers of the capital. Like I say, they turn up occasionally. But there are none here in Shadfer, I've never seen one in my years of ruling.”

“It is imperative we find the Relic, it's by far the most promising path to a swift resolution of the problems facing us all.” Pink says.

“So you say, but these trinkets are rarities – finding it will be no easy task. Even if it is currently in the possession of some noble or other it will take some time to search it out. What exactly is it that you are looking for anyway?” The duke asks.

Pink goes silent, uncomfortable at the question she probably doesn't know the answer to.

“A wand. Black. Made of metal loops – like a chain. Eleven inches long, the handle little more than molten iron, gripped by a bare hand before it could cool.” I interject on behalf of my cute servant.

None of the humans have any particular reaction to the description, demonstrating once more their profound ignorance.

“And what would this miracle wand do? To redress the 'balance of mana'.” The air quotes in Octavio's voice are audible.

“Create large quantities of creatures that can channel demonic energy. Not demons per se but close enough for our purposes.” Pink says.

“You speak of raising an army. You have the audacity to come here and declare your intent to raise an army – and expect what? Help? This farce has gone on long enough – has it not milord?” Octavio warbles.

“If that is truly your intention, that is somewhat concerning.” The duke is more measured in his response. Chelsea just plops herself down into her chair, a thoughtful frown on her face, content to let the conversation proceed without her.

Pink shrugs. “It's the best method we have available. And honestly, we all seem in need of an army, it's not as if – once the balance is corrected – the Unbound will simply vanish from Karridor. It's my hope that by approaching you humans now, we might establish friendly relations that might continue on until the corruption is driven from our world.”

“That is an ...interesting way of looking at things. But what if your 'Relic' is truly lost? Is there no other way? You mentioned other methods – are they truly not worth considering?

"I have decided to accept your words at their face – that you are working against the Unbound, it is a sensible course of action. But I am confident the Emperor will not abide a foreign army being raised in his lands, no matter the situation.”

“No one said anything about raising an army in your lands, human. Artas is in far more dire straits as things stand right now...” I murmur.

The duke pauses, considering. “I see... if you returned across the sea to raise your army, that would be less objectionable. The global scale of the problem escaped me for a moment there.

"In that case I do, perhaps, have the means to help you to some degree. It should be possible to at least verify if your 'relic' is indeed within the Imperium – such cursed things have little use to humanity, even against The Encroachment – so if someone is squirreling it away they could probably be persuaded to part with it if they were made to understand the stakes.”

“How quickly could you get that information?” Pink is leaning forward again, less out of calculated sexiness and more just out of eagerness I judge.

“On twelfth Aroach – seven days from now – there will be a gathering of sorts, in Highmont, that the nobility might rattle their sabres and demand aid while explaining why they cannot provide anything in turn. In recent years the Emperor has been holding them monthly, in response to the ever-increasing pace of the war. Of course not all the heads of the various noble Houses will be in attendance but it would be an excellent jumping off point.

"In the meantime I could contact various allies of House Clearwater, with distantword runes a conversation to verify shouldn't be too difficult. House Marne or House Kullen will probably not even ask anything in return, other than reimbursements for their lost runes...” The duke trails of thoughtfully.

“You're suddenly very cooperative.” Pink squints at the man suspiciously.

“Not really. I've pledged to ask after your artifact among my personal acquaintances and pointed you toward somewhere else you might ask more – I'm not sure you're grasping just how rare your 'Holy Relics' are. More importantly, it's as likely as not that your relic is somewhere else entirely – to the south in Avashorn, or among the Tarisians, or even on one of the celestial's flying cities – or just lost in the Tribelands.

"Suprema is massive by any standard, combing through it for a single magical item is something of a fool's errand. Which is why I'm curious about those 'other methods' you mentioned. I'd like you to explain them anyway – as payment for my agreeing to help you as much as I have.”

“The only other viable method would be to spread teachings of how to channel demonic energy for spellcasting among the thinking races. If the celestials reduced their consumption of holy energy that might also help but I've judged that method to be …improbable.”

“Now the truth comes out! These demons are just blowing smoke to further their ultimate goal – spreading their foul teachings among the good citizens of Shadfer!” A reedy voice screeches.

“There is no force on this world that could compel me to share the ancient and secret ways of demonic magic with lowly humans.” Pink replies instantly and viciously – plummeting the temperature of the room with her chilly words.

“Well I can think of at least one force Pink.” I gently reprimand her.

“Ah. Yes of course mistress, for you I will suffer any indignity.”

“Well I agree you'll have little luck convincing the celestials, I've had the 'good fortune' to listen in when Aurora was ranting about the evils of demons in the past.” The dukes eyes are flat and unimpressed as he recounts that tidbit. “Hard to agree with her views on the 'ultimate evil' we all must be 'prepared to stand against' when our lands have been ravaged and reduced over the course of centuries by another – supposedly lesser – evil.

"That said your magic is absurdly powerful and after your little demonstration I wonder if it is not due – at least in part – to the form of energy you are channeling. If our mages and wizards could see similar result – a fireball from a candleflame – that would be invaluable in our fight against The Encroachment.”

Pink is frowning and she looks ready to interject.

“However, I understand that that is asking too much for what I am offering you. Magical secrets are a precious resource, I understand that better than most. That said – spreading those secrets is in-line with your stated goals, and would presumably help all of us against our 'mutual enemies' so I do not feel out of line asking them of you – if I can offer something in exchange."

Here the duke pauses, a look of deep consideration in his sunken and tired eyes.

"To that end I pledge that I will turn all of my spare resources to finding your 'Holy Relic', House Clearwater's intelligence network within the Imperium is second to none among the Great Houses, if your trinket is Imperial hands we will be able to find it – given enough time. Failing that I have no doubt we can at the very least turn up if it has passed through the hands of the beastkin tribes, or the elves.

"You have stated yourself – you are but two – having more eyes and ears scouring the land for your relic can only be beneficial. My agents can surreptitiously petition the Emperor himself – and even the celestials, who I doubt would agree to amicable contact with you in any circumstance.

"All that if you agree to try to teach some of my hand-picked men in your way of magic, to confirm it can indeed be spread amongst humanity.”

I can feel a smile creeping over my face, still cradled in my hands. I like this human. He reminds me of some of the more competent subordinates I've had over the years. The driven type who does all the difficult work without a word of complaint. The type who sees what he – or the people he represents – needs and takes it, by whatever method available to him. His eyes steely and unyielding while he dominates the conversation.

“I hope I will be included in that hand-picked list Tefran.” Chelsea says, a lazy smile on her face, her eyes filled with a contradictory laser focus.

Some of the fire leaves the duke's eyes as he nods – almost absent-mindedly. “Of course, this has the potential to change everything. While some fools still see Tarisia as an enemy you know my stance on the matter, humanity must stand united. And from what our guests say – the farther we can spread this, the better for everyone.” His eyes are on Pink though, even as he speaks to the other woman, waiting for her next words.

“A …persuasive argument Ser Duke. I will …provisionally agree to your terms. Provided you first show some results from your intelligence gathering efforts. Training one of the other races to channel demonic energy is a difficult process, but not one I am completely unlearned in, I will need some time to prepare the needed tools.

"Who knows? Maybe you humans will unexpectedly take to channeling demonic energy quite easily – that would be a fortunate turn of events.” Pink's cool smile has returned as she straightens up.

“We have a pact then.” Duke Clearwater's tone is final, the tone of a ruler. “Until I can produce some concrete result – the two of you are guests in my home, welcome to stay as long as need be. If you have any requirements I will strive to fulfill them – particularly if you need help gathering those 'tools' you mentioned, you need only ask.”

Pink just smiles demurely. “We will of course be glad to accept your hospitality, and while generous, your offer of aid in gathering my tools is largely unnecessary. Perhaps some stone or iron plates would be useful – but for the most part the 'tools' are flowing through my veins.”

Octavio's face crinkles in revulsion. Chelsea just looks interested. Duke Clearwater is unfazed as always, to Pink's slight disappointment if the slight rounding of her shoulders is any indication.

“Ah wait, there is one further thing I require.” I straighten in my seat as I speak, sweeping the room with my gaze and adopting my most regal pose. The humans all freeze, staring back at me. Octavio in particular is wide-eyed, his face saying “I-knew-it!”, an odd combination of self-satisfaction and bracing for a hammer blow.

“I will require …a cat.”

…

…

…

That night a man who introduces himself as the duke's son delivers a small black cat, its fur sleek and entirely black, to the room they've gifted us. It's a large and airy room, decorated by an elegant matching set of furniture – a bed, a desk, a few chairs, a table – all made from some solid wood and painted white with eye-catching gold highlights. While most of the mansion is rather subdued, it seems the guest rooms have been designed to impress I muse, looking up at the gaudy crystal chandelier.

Sitting on one of the chairs – the largest one in the room of course – and stroking the small black beast, I allow myself a satisfied smile. Things have really been falling into place since we entered this city. As expected the humans were positively eager to go forth and do my bidding in exchange for practically nothing at all. Something I would have had Pink do eventually anyway even! And now my roster of minions has expanded considerably, so long as the good Duke properly sets his men to work.

Pink has disappeared somewhere. Some corner of this property has been set aside for her use, that she might 'prepare' to teach the humans. I wonder what method she uses that requires such extensive preparations. The only times I've “taught” someone how to wield demonic energy – it was by selecting a particularly strong minion or slave and just flooding their body with the stuff. Deeply imprinting into their bodies the feeling of using demonic energy – also killing them nine times out of ten.

But that tenth one – they always ended up being useful. It takes a particularly strong and driven individual to survive an experience like that after all.

Hopefully Pink's method has a lower mortality rate. The humans seem to value their mages, if we start killing them off en masse they will look less fondly on us.

At some point the cat has slipped away from me – meandered over to this little cloth bed the maids prepared for it – and gone to sleep. I watch its tiny form with a feeling of indescribable envy. It's not like I can sleep after all. In that sense this room is largely wasted on me – Pink might get some use out of it but for me...

I'm entirely unable to sleep. This extended period of idleness is actually taking something of a toll, as I feel that – typically easily ignored – subtle feeling of wrongness slipping over me. It's much more subdued here on Suprema but now that I've caved in and started moving around again it seems still more impossible to ignore. So while I should be floating on a cloud of self-satisfied contentment, having secured some capable minions to handle my problems for me, instead what I'm feeling is restless.

That strange desire to... Move. Do. Act. So uncharacteristic. So compelling.

So when I hear a pair of hands stealthily ascending the wall outside my window, all I feel is a strange surge of joy. Something to do.

I watch the window eagerly – what will it be? A lost maid? A deranged six legged window-leaping bear? An assassin sent by the duke? A six legged bear assassin? Who knows!

Thus my disappointment is palpable when the Chelsea's smiling red head pops up over the windowsill. She takes a quick look around, gaze settling on me almost instantly. She meets my eyes for a moment, her smile replaced by a more cautious expression, before apparently deciding I won't incinerate her for her impertinence. Decision made she quickly pulls herself into the room with a lithe grace one might not expect from an ambassador.

An exceedingly brave human.

As she lands in the room, her steps muffled by cloth wrapped around her leather boots, she immediately sweeps into a low bow, her nose practically touching the floor. Then, without looking up, she speaks.

“Greetings to you oh Demon Lord. I hope you'll forgive this intrusion.” She pauses, for the briefest of instants – giving me time to grant that forgiveness – but quickly sensing it isn't forthcoming she continues. So quickly you might mistake it for just a pause for breath. She's quite the experienced political operator, a proper ambassador indeed.

“I have sought you out in hopes you would be willing to entertain a question from this unworthy one, in exchange for a bit of information I think you might find useful.” Her casual and flippant attitude is gone like smoke. Well. Information is what we're after I suppose.

“Raise your head.” I command.

She does so smoothly, straightening up and meeting my eyes confidently.

“I will hear you. If I judge there to be worth in your information, I will field your question.”

“Yes! My thanks oh Demon Lord. Then, to be direct, have you heard of a farming village called Kaorn? Little bump on the road out on the eastern frontier – one of the last proper 'villagers' before the Deep Wood – maybe a weeks hard ride from Shadfer.” Her eyes take a sly cast as she asks the question. Not her question I sense – this one intended to be rhetorical probably.

“No.” I respond anyway.

If she's taken aback at all by that it doesn't show. “I see. Well a most curious report came from that region's Legion Garrison recently, mostly made curious by how quickly it was intercepted and disappeared. Distantword runes are not terribly reliable, few mages can make them properly consistently – so there is always a risk that a message might simply be …lost – so for such communication to fail is not unheard of. However, in this case, the Garrison received confirmation from Shadfer, confirming reception of the message.

"Ah, did I mention – like sealing runes, distantword runes were gifted to humans by the celestials? Quite some time ago that was, a show of solidarity against the coming hordes – bolstered the efficiency with which the Imperium could move its Legions many times over I understand.”

“You are implying the celestials intercepted this communication?” I ask her, feeling slightly confused. Why should I care?

“Not implying at all.” The red-haired woman's smile is grim. “It's as certain as Krin's Forge I'm afraid, no one else could dupe the Garrison's confirmation system so easily. Well, that's if you don't include us Tarisians.”

The woman looks quite proud of herself at that. So I don't bother to suppress the yawn that's been building in me for the last while. It seems that when idle I want to act, and when acting I want to rest – my lot in life is to suffer I reflect sadly.

“I'm still not understanding why I should care.”

“Well, the content of the communication was …quite something. Getting our hands on it was really very difficult you know? Even knowing that a message was sent from the Garrison but not received here in Shadfer was something of a stroke of luck – one of our agents had to risk life and limb infiltrating the Garrison itself and …interviewing the man who sent the message.

"His story was that three men from the Tribe of Grace and Fang – local farmers – reported an incident in the village of Kaorn. An attack on the village of Kaorn, perpetrated by a pair of black winged women – Unbound celestials they feared. The attack left over a dozen farmers and a traveling merchant dead by some mysterious magic.

"The Garrison sent out some men to confirm and found the situation to be as the farmers claimed. But the winged women were nowhere to be found. Since it's not uncommon for powerful Unbound to crop up from time to time, the Garrisons only response was an increase in patrols in that area – and a message to Shadfer, that the task of dealing with the stray Unbound could be shoveled off on the Adventurer's Guild.

"That a pack of fool farmers thought that their friends had been killed by Unbound celestials was not even a footnote in the mind of the man who took their story – people are always being traumatized by contact with the Unbound and tend to report all manner of wild things.

"But it seems some people took the report pretty seriously, seeing how it was so quickly and quietly intercepted.” Her eyes flash knowingly, her lips curling into a satisfied smirk. Apparently very impressed with herself.

She talks so much. Why? What is her point?

“So you are …warning me? That is your information? Celesitals are tracking my movements here on Suprema?” I try a final time to ascertain her intentions.

At my words the energetic red-head stills. Her aura of smug confidence falters, my words somehow throwing her off of her stride, and she sends me a long and searching look.

“That is …correct milady. Though I thought you might deny your association with the bit of nastiness that happened out on the frontier.” Eventually she recovers enough to respond as such.

I sigh. Slightly lamenting my empty hands. Moments like this really require a prop, for me to fiddle with thoughtfully while dispensing judgment from on high. A dagger or something – to really drive the point home. Lacking that I'm forced to settle for shifting a bit in my seat – recrossing my legs, stretching my wings, and resting my head in my palm.

“Tell me human, why do you think the celestials have spent the last several centuries laying the blame for the Unbound at the feet of some fictitious 'Demon God'?” I ask.

Her face is surprised, clearly not the words she was expecting.

“Because …that is what they believe to be true? I have heard it told that the Goddess they worship put them on their current path …I'm not sure though, celestials aren't big on sharing their thoughts, even with the most nosy outsiders.” She replies, her voice regaining its half laughing tone.

“No. That's incorrect. The celestials blame demons because it is in their blood to do so. It's in the marrow of their bones to hate us – a fundamental part of the composition of a dove. Of course demons are no different – you saw Pink's reaction to that man's holy flame did you not?

"The Blood Cycle has been slowly turning for time immemorial, the war between demons and celestials as unending as your war against the Unbound. But we've been at it for much much longer, spans of time that would boggle your tiny human mind.

"It's not a choice or a decision, they hate us like they breathe. We hate each other and can no more stop than we can stop breathing. Over the years I've heard endless justifications and speculations as to why are we like this? Why the endless well of hatred – seemingly from the cradle – that plagues us to the grave? And the only answer that rings true to me, after all my years of life, is that that is just how we were created by the Gods.”

Chelsea's easy smile has disappeared, she simply stares back at me like a rabbit before a wolf. Overpowered by my sudden intensity. I feel a slight pang of regret – getting too involved here – but she started me on the topic of the doves so this much really can't be helped.

“In brief, Chelsea, it is not news to me that the celestials will be coming for my head. Rather than new information what you have given me is a report on an undeniable certainty – like a man standing at the edge of the sea and shouting of the coming tide. It's not useful.

"That is my judgment. However, that human magical communication networks are so fragile and easily tampered with is …interesting. And while knowing that the tide will rise is not valuable – there is a certain value to knowing the exact hour of the swell.

"Is that something you can provide?”

“...No. The celestials are secretive at the best of times, they do not take outsiders to their cities so infiltration is impossible if you don't got wings. But I can report that certain high ranking and visible celestials have been withdrawn from The Frontline – its got us Tarisians in quite a conundrum, not sure if we're looking at rats fleeing the sinking ship or …something else.

"Given your words just now though… well I'm sure we can both draw our own conclusions.”

I nod. “Ask your question then human – with the understanding that if you ever do become aware of the exact hour, you will report it to me.” It's important to demand something in return for even the smallest of favors – and then demand a little more.

Chelsea nods slowly in turn. “Then, at first I wondered if it even was you at Kaorn but since you've confirmed that …what exactly is humanity to you? Why did you kill those people, if you were going to come here seeking an alliance? The goal that was spoken of at the meeting with Tefran seems to me to be at odds with your actions.”

Huh. That is not at all what I expected her to ask. I thought she would beg some sliver of my power – that is invariably what people petition me for, no matter what words they might use to dress it up. But this one is …what? Trying to ascertain my intentions? Truly an ambassador. Still, how to answer?

“Well in truth human what happened at that little outpost was something of an unfortunate accident. A lack of control.” I reach up and gently put a finger to my lips as I speak, remembering my failure to control my voice at that time.

“As for “what is humanity” that's a bit more abstract isn't it? Tools to be used on my journey to correct this imbalance? Tools that must be handled with a certain degree of gentleness – that they do not snap under the strain...” I trail of thoughtfully.

“Then, you care for humanity? Milady? You wish to see that we survive?”

“You've gone beyond a single question. But yes, I do care, insofar as we've all seen what happens when a race is genocided off the face of Karridor – would something similar happen if humans were to disappear? I don't know. But why roll those dice? There's nothing to be gained.”

“Apologies milady, that was too many questions.” Her half-smile has returned in full force after her little spat of seriousness. “These types of things are important for an ambassador to know – I got a little carried away.”

“You call yourself an ambassador, and were introduced as such at our first meeting, but from this conversation you seem to be a bit more than that? Quite well informed for an ambassador.” I ask – idle curiosity and a desire to even the score driving me.

“Nono milady, I am but a humble ambassador from Tarisia. But you know, for us, it always pays to keep one ear to the ground. Never know when the Imps are gonna get jumpy.” She flashes a sly smile that disappears as she formulates her next thought.

“But …you killed those people. Doesn't that mean anything to you? At the very least it will strain your relations with the Imperium if it ever comes to light…” She asks.

“Why? Do the serfs of this lands have such value?”

“There is an argument to be made for the intrinsic value of human life – but more concretely people generally don't like working with someone they think might decide to kill them at any moment. Generally speaking. Hard to build a relationship of trust with someone who butchers your people.” Her response is flippant but her unease is palpable.

“Well it's too late now anyway. I've made an accord with the Lord of this land, if he had wanted to use the lives of his serfs to demand some concession from me I may have considered it – but now the pact is sealed. No need for trust.”

“No need for trust? If you are working with the duke should there not be some degree of trust? What if the Tefran fails to deliver what he promised? What if he betrays you? Don't you need to trust him, at least a little bit, that he won't do those things?” She sounds honestly surprised so I decide to educate her a bit.

“No. No need for trust human. Only an ironclad knowledge of consequences for failure. As with any deal struck – you trust the other party to cooperate exactly as much as they have to, no more and no less. In this case, the good duke is obligated to provide what he pledged to provide – anything less and …well I'll just cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“...I see. Thank you for meeting with me milady. This conversation has been enlightening. I think I'll just see myself out.” Saying so she gives another grand bow, touching the floor with her nose almost.

“Farewell then Chelsea.” I mutter, watching as she retreats lithely back out through the window.

Glad to see her go really. Talking to people is just so exhausting and such an ultimately worthless endeavor. What reason, after all, do I have really have to speak with such a creature? Creatures whose lives are as candle-flames, flickering and brief – gone before you can even note their presence. I still feel that idle desire to do but I've decided, no more conversations! Pink should handle that sort of thing.

Thinking so I stand up and move over to the huge four poster bed that dominates the room – flopping myself atop it unceremoniously. Supposedly these things are used for more comfortable sleeping posture – but as expected, I still can't sleep, and laying prone like this is definitely not proper sleeping posture. So I just lie here in an undignified sprawl, considering the problem of the celestials. It is, all things considered, an intractable problem, the kind best ignored until someone else deals with it.

A perfect problem-solving strategy that has yet to fail me even once!