(Jacob, 16)

"You are sure we are not within their border?" I ask.

"Yes, sir!" Geoffrey, the Royal Guard in charge of my protection while I am here, answers. "Their border ends approximately one mile that way. We are in view of their fort over there," he indicates the fortress in the distance. "But not too close as to be considered threatening."

"Understood," I turn my gaze up the mountain we are on.

Papa and I performed several lengthy discussions regarding this trip over the last few days, and then he announced that I would be doing it immediately, rather than waiting another few days. That means no more university for me for the time being, though that does not mean my training has been halted.

In addition to my standard lessons and training routines, I will also undergo some training regarding the language of each nation I am to communicate with during this campaign. We have a translator for each of those nations, but it is best if I at least know some phrases.

Right now, we are setting up the camp, which has already been secured by my soldiers. There is a nest of griffins nearby, so I am watching out for them. In theory, my presence will prevent them from actually attacking, but it is a risk we are taking.

Which is why Jason sent Griffin Alpha with me. If they local griffins do attack, then Griffin Alpha will ensure my protection. Jason made him just for this mission, as an added protection greater than any other around me.

I sigh as I think about Jason's newest pet. He has a pet dragon now. Of all the things for him to have disappeared from the dance from, obtaining a pet dragon was not something which had crossed the minds of anyone present.

The fact that the dragon is green strikes me as strange, but who am I to question what happens with Jason?

As I look up at the mountain, something catches my eye, so I enhance my sight, focusing on the area where I saw it. It takes me a few moments, but I finally set my gaze upon them. A trio of griffins. Golden-brown fur on their lion bodies, with the heads and wings of eagles. All three are female, it appears, but that does not surprise me. Male griffins rarely have wings.

It works for the dynamic of the beasts, as the males stay at the nests to protect the young, elderly, and crippled, while the females go out to hunt. Because of that, the males don't need to fly.

The tails of all three griffins are a normal lion's tail rather than a serpent, which is good news. Good griffins rather than evil ones, which will make discussions easier.

"Incoming griffins," I say, and Geoffrey gives me an uneasy look. "Ensure our men continue setting up camp, I will greet the griffins outside of it."

I walk out of the mountain in the direction the griffins are approaching, Griffin Alpha remaining hanging over my right shoulder. He has yet to say a word, though I am sure he is interested. He was designed after male griffins, to match me, so rather than a pair of wings, he possesses a row of spikes from the back of his head down to his tail, a mane of darker fur around his neck.

His silence also worries me, considering how much the Ultra Defense Stuffie Golems I know talk.

A few minutes after I exit the borders of the camp, the griffins land in front of me, gracefully switching from a flight to a glide to a trot and finally, to a stop, only two yards away. Each one easily towers over me by a full head, my own only coming up to their shoulders.

Powerful and magnificent creatures, griffins are.

"You with such a powerful soul," the griffin leading the trio says, her voice entering directly into my mind as her brown gaze sets upon Griffin Alpha. "What on Midlaris is that?"

"I am Griffin Alpha!" Griffin Alpha answers cheerfully. "I was created in the image of the griffins for the purpose of defending Jacob! My master is Jason Jeshema, and I am an elite member of the Ultra Defense Stuffie Golems!"

"The magic within you," the lead griffin says. "Making up your enchantment. It reminds me of the magic in the Stone of Stories."

"The Stone of Stories?" I ask.

"Yes," she answers. "Powerful though we may be, our lives can only last for up to a thousand years. Though none alive remember him, the Great Dragon came to us one day and granted us the Stone of Stories, forged through his magic. The magic within it is the same as the magic within the… thing resting on your shoulder."

"The Great Dragon?" I ask. "Magus Nolan?"

"That is the identity he gave our ancestors," she confirms. "The High Magus, the Magus of Magic. Taken mortal form, with a soul more powerful than any other mortals. Much like yours."

"I am not he," I quickly realize her question. "During the war, I was known as Magus Ethan, the Magus of Light and King of Spring. I am the Great Griffin."

"Can you prove this claim of yours?" She asks. "None live who would be able to confirm it."

"I am not as powerful as I was back then," I say. "So some of my true abilities are beyond me."

"The Divine Beasts," she tells me. "Possess the power to command any of their lesser brethren. That is an absolute rule the Great Dragon put into our species when he created them, as told by the Stone of Stories."

"I do not know if that is true," I say. "But I do know that any of our lesser brethren can tell who we are without fail simply by seeing our soul. You knew the moment you saw me who I am."

She begins laughing, tilting her head back as her whole body shakes, her wings stretching out once more. For several long seconds, her laugh continues, and I can tell it unnerves the guards and servants in the camp, even if the sound is quite melodic.

When she stops, she sets her gaze upon me once more.

"You are correct," she tells me. "The moment we saw you, we knew who you were, Great Griffin. We also know this is a new form for you. What may we call you in this incarnation you live?"

"I am Jacob now," I answer. "First Prince and Crown Prince of Varil. I had hoped that we would receive a welcoming from the local griffins, but had not expected it to occur so soon."

"You had expected us to come investigate those setting up camp on our mountain?" She asks.

"Yes," I nod. "My kingdom has become at war, and the nations east of the two participating in it are currently being spoken to by those leading the war. My hope is to convince at least some of them against fighting us. My hope is that you are willing to assist us in this."

"How so?" She asks. "My pride will not be willing to travel to your lands to fight for you. Varil may not be a far journey by flight, but this is our home here."

"Nothing of the sort," I answer. "We are hoping that you would be willing to allow access to some of the mines that can be made or accessed in your territory, should the nations bordering it agree to stay out of the war, both on might and in goods. You do not have to allow them to take the gold, and I am sure they would be willing to give it up as tribute to you."

I can see her mulling over the idea of allowing humans into her pride's territory. This may take some time to negotiate properly, but I am willing to spend as long as necessary if it means reducing the number of enemies Varil has in this war.

(Edward, 19)

The purpose of this fort is to watch out for, well, nothing. Nothing ever comes from the mountains, so no one expects anything of us. I was stationed out here due to angering my trainer, a high-ranking officer, shortly before graduation from the academy.

A dead-end location, where soldiers are sent to live out the rest of their days unless they quit and try to find work in another field of expertise. Usually as a farmer.

Because of that, and how quiet things are here, only one guard is ever watching the mountains at a time. And right now, that's me, the new guy, and right now, I really wish there was someone else here. Because at the moment, there's nothing to ring the bell for, but everything to get my captain up here.

Varilan soldiers showed up two hours ago. They're easily identifiable by the blue and green garb they wear, the crest upon their flags, and the fact that they could simply traverse a great distance with ease. They all walked out of some sort of indigo rectangle of magic, some sort of spell I have never heard of before.

For the last two hours, I watched them. I managed to identify the leader, a man who could not be more than sixteen or seventeen. The way everyone reacts to him, however, he holds great standing. He spoke with one of the soldiers at length, before turning his attention to the mountains. He barely spared us a glance.

Maybe I should have rung the bell, but my gut told me they were not here for hostile reasons. While they are setting up defenses around their perimeter, I see no weaponry of any form that would suggest they are here to attack us at some point. The fact that he had a stuffie on his shoulder confused me as well, as that's a child's toy. Strangely, it seemed to move its head and tail on its own, but I chalked that up to the strangeness of the situation playing with my eyes.

After two hours, he turned his gaze to the mountains, as he always did, then suddenly began walking outside of it. A few minutes after he exited their camp, griffins appeared. A trio of females, flying towards them.

They landed in front of him, and after a minute, the one in the front laughed. Laughed. I could tell the soldiers and servants were nervous by that, but the man seemed unbothered. It was then I realized they were speaking.

Speaking. As if communicating with griffins was an everyday thing for him. We're lucky if they don't attack our soldiers on a rare expedition into the mountains, and they decided to simply speak with the Varilan man!

Once again, I find myself wondering if I should ring the bell. It is meant to be used if we come under attack, and it doesn't seem like we are under attack. None of my training has prepared me for this situation.

"What's got your attention?" A voice asks, and I look over to see my relief coming out of the tower, no doubt having simply opened the door and seen me staring out onto the mountains.

Yes!

"Get the captain," I say.

"Why?" He asks, and I indicate the camp. He turns his head to face. "Blood of Midlaris!"

I look back out to the camp to find the man still speaking with the griffins.

"Yeah," I say. "He's been at it with them for a few minutes now."

The griffin in front kneels down, and the Varilan man approaches. As he moves beside her, the stuffie jumps off of his shoulder and onto her back, then he climbs onto her back.

That stuffie did move on its own!

"I'm going to go get the captain," my relief says, then hurries back into the tower.

The griffins turn around, then charge up the mountain, stretching out their wings and flapping, only managing ten steps before taking flight, soaring back towards where they came.

May the gods have mercy on us if he convinces them to attack us. No one can fight a griffin, and as far as we know, there are at least thirty in the nearby group.

Hopefully, we can establish peaceful talks with the Varilans before something happens.

I'm barely here three weeks, and there's already a chance I'm going to die. In the most peaceful section of all the kingdom.

As I wait for my captain to arrive, I remember where I've seen that specific Varilan crest before. It was shown to us during our training, mentioned as being the personal crest of Prince Jacob Varil, their future king.

If he has come out here, then something serious is going on, and I will need to make sure my captain knows the crest as well. Otherwise, any attempt to talk with them could result in our kingdom being destroyed.

Gods, if you are listening, please let everything be okay.

(Jacob, 16)

We reach the nest after fifteen minutes of flying, and it's truly a sight to behold. A griffin's nest consists of multiple nests of leaves and grass, with the gold belonging to each griffin mixed in with them.

This pride consists of more than forty griffins and sixteen nests. Eighteen male adult griffins, sixteen female adults, and eleven cubs. All but six adult griffins are present, the rest out hunting, no doubt. Their nest rests in a small zone in the mountain likely carved out in ancient times specifically for their nesting purposes.

At the center of it, a yellow-grey stone rises up, glowing faintly in the sunlight.

Eiria, the griffin I'm riding, lands and stops by the stone, no doubt the Stone of Stories. All of the other griffins are watching us, and one of the males, larger than the rest, approaches.

"By the soul," he speaks as I dismount, Griffin Alpha jumping onto my shoulder once more. "You are the Great Griffin."

"I am," I nod. "In this life, I am Jacob Varil, First Prince and Crown Prince of Varil. Eiria here decided my request was too much for her alone to decide, and wished to bring it to both you and the others, if you are Eirual."

"I am," he gives me a bow. "It is an honor to meet you, Great One."

"Thank you," I dip my head, then explain the situation.

For the next two hours, I discuss with the griffins what I want and what they are willing to yield. At the same time, I meet all of the members of the pride, even the cubs, who play a game to see who is willing to touch the Great Griffin without getting into trouble. They are cute and I do not mind, resulting in all of them coming up and rubbing their heads against my legs, before bolting back to their parents.

When we finish, Eiria allows me to mount her once more, and Griffin Alpha sits in front of me, holding on as we take flight once more.

"You seem to enjoy the flight," Eiria tells me after a few minutes. "I sensed it when we were traveling to the nest, and I sense it again now. The exhilaration you feel is genuine, and radiates from every part of you."

I lean forward more, so that my mouth is closer to her ears so that she can hear more easily, though I am sure it is unnecessary at our current speed.

"Jason, the current incarnation of the High Magus and Divine Dragon," I say. "Taught us all a flight spell. I have found a great thrill in soaring in the sky, through the winds and currents. It is likely from my true self."

"Quite possibly," she responded. "Have we agreed to an arrangement which satisfies you?"

"Yes," I answer. "I will admit, I was not expecting your pride to agree to as much as you did."

"We do not concern ourselves much with mortal affairs," she tells me. "As long as they do not cause issues for us, we let them be."

"You've prevented them from mining before."

"They would drain the mountain dry," she says. "Carving out their paths and ruining the life it has, all for the sake of their gains. As long as they agree to the conditions we set, then we have no issues allowing them to mine the resources."

We fall silent for the rest of the flight back to camp, and I simply enjoy the feel of the wind whipping at me, the currents we fly in and out of. When Eiria lands, I am saddened by the end of the journey, but dismount anyway.

Griffin Alpha jumps back onto my shoulder as I give Eiria a light pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Eiria," I say.

"You are welcome, Lord Jacob," she gives me another bow, then turns around and takes off, soaring up into the sky once more.

I wait until she is out of sight, then turn and enter the camp, which has finished being constructed. Wooden posts surround the camp, sharpened at the edges and pointed outwards. A preliminary defense against monsters, but also enchanted for extra effects and wards.

Many tents are set up, with two for me. One for my actual stay, one for meetings and planning, for important discussions.

As everyone here is either a member of the Royal Guard or their staff, my own personal guards are being given my mission off, allowed to study at the Royal Knight University as students in the S-Class until I return. They will also undergo additional training, while being given permission to act more as normal citizens and students than as guards.

However, my valet has accompanied me, to continue to perform his normal duties. As I contemplate asking him to set up an early bath for me, to wash off the smell of the griffins, one of the guards approaches.

"Sir," she says. "A small party from the fortress is approaching. They bear the talks flag."

A white flag with the brown rune for 'Talk' in the ancient language, a standard that somehow managed to last more than three thousand years. Even if no one knows what the rune actually means, though I am certain a few at least suspect it is simply 'talk' and not some random pattern.

"That was faster than I expected," I tell her. "Send them to the command tent once they arrive."

"Yes, sir!" She salutes, then heads off to await their arrival.

I walk to the command tent and enter, finding Geoffrey examining some papers.

"We have company," I tell him as I approach the throne brought for me and sit upon it. "Prepare for their arrival. Please have the chefs prepare some food for us as we talk. I am hungry after my trip, and it would be rude to eat in front of guests who have none."

"Yes, sir," he salutes, then steps out to order a servant into action.

While I wait for him to return, I open up my spatial storage and withdraw my circlet, placing it atop my head. I close the storage, then simply wait. A servant enters bearing a goblet and a bottle of wine. He pours me a drink, then sets it on the table in front of me and moves off to the side.

I take a sip of it, then nod. A nice wine for our meeting, and I am sure that more will be brought it to serve to our guests.

Geoffrey returns after a few minutes and takes the seat to my right, and a few minutes later, the guard from before enters the tent, leading in a trio of Ekelian soldiers. One looks to be at least forty, another nearing forty, while the third seems to be only a few years older than me.

All three look nervous, becoming more so once they set their eyes upon my circlet. They likely think we are here in preparation for an attack, which works to my advantage, even if only a little.

"Welcome," I say, and Geoffrey begins translating. I gesture to the seats at the other end of the table. "Please, have a seat."

The Ekelian soldiers do so, the youngest of them shaking physically in his fear, though all three are a little pale.

"Please, relax," I tell them. "We intentionally set up camp within your sight so that you did not see us at some point and suspect us of planning an attack in secret."

I wait for Geoffrey to finish translating before I continue.

"I would like to apologize for frightening you," I say. "As it is clear that we have made you nervous. We are not here for Ekeli, but to speak with the griffins on the mountain. My mission here is of an unknown duration, and we did not wish to hide ourselves and make you fear the worst once you discovered an established camp."

Geoffrey translates it, then the one in charge, their captain, if I remember my quite recent lessons on their insignias correctly, speaks for a few moments.

"He introduced himself as Captain Wesley," Geoffrey informs me. "And says that upon seeing us setting up camp, they did, in fact, fear that we were here to launch an attack."

"We are not here to attack," I say as Griffin Alpha jumps onto the table, startling the Ekelian soldiers. By his gaze, the younger one already knew he could move, while the reactions of the other two tell me they did not believe him when he spoke of an animated stuffie. "The high number of guards present is solely for my protection, in case monsters come from the mountains to attack."

I let Geoffrey translate all of that before I continue.

"As I said," I say. "We are not here for business with Ekeli, but the griffins. We simply wished to not hide ourselves and make you fear the worst once scouts or hunters noticed our camp. That is why we set up within your view. I had planned on sending you a message informing you of this, but the griffins arrived earlier than I expected."

Geoffrey translates, then listens as Captain Wesley speaks once more.

"He asks," Geoffrey asks. "What business Varil would have hundreds of miles from home, with the griffins of the eastern mountains. He did ask it quite pleasantly, I believe he's nervous the question may anger you."

"You may relax," I tell him. "It is natural to be curious of why we would have business so far from home. I am the reincarnation of the King of Spring, and in ancient times, I rode with the griffins, and they bowed to my command. There are not many griffins in Varil, and I wished to visit some which were not native to my lands. Had this pride of them been within the borders of Ekeli, I would have requested permission to enter your land and stay there as I spoke with them."

Geoffrey translates, then listens as Wesley speaks once more, all three of them looking confused.

"He wants to know," Geoffrey tells me. "If there is any proof that you are the King of Spring, considering the great legends told of him."

"As I am young," I say. "I am still recovering my powers of old. It will likely be another two or three years before I am back to the level of power I was at when I was known as the King of Spring. However, the fact remains that I am here to communicate with the griffins, and for no other reason."

Geoffrey translates, and as Captain Wesley contemplates his next words, the entrance to the tent is pulled open.

"Come in," I beckon to the servant giving us a questioning look, then I address the Ekelians as food is brought in. "Please, I am sure you are hungry as it is lunchtime. Before we discuss things further, why not dine with us? I had my staff prepare meals for you as well."

Geoffrey translates, then listens as Captain Wesley speaks, my staff already putting out the food and pouring goblets of wine.

"He thanks you for the generosity," Geoffrey tells me. "And apologizes for the rudeness of coming at a mealtime."

"It is of no concern," I say. "You were worried and panicked at the sight of Varil setting up a camp a mile from your fortress. Forgetting the time of day is understandable. Please, eat."

The meal consists of chicken served on rice and smothered in an orange sauce, a salad, some fruit slices, and a roll, along with the wine. Due to the language barrier and only one of us being able to speak both Varilan and Ekelian, the meal is consumed without speaking.

When we finish, the staff clear away the dishes and ensure the wine is refilled before leaving, only a single servant remaining behind, to refill any goblets that should need it.

Wesley says something to me.

"He says," Geoffrey tells me. "That they thank us for the meal, and he wishes to know if there is anything you wish of Ekeli during your stay."

"No," I answer. "As I said before, we are here for the griffins, not for Ekeli. We only ever interact in the annual tournament, and my papa with your king at the regular meeting of the leaders of the nations, so we have no reason to have business with Ekeli itself. As I do not know how long we will be here, I will make sure to extend an invitation for you to come visit again, Captain Wesley, to explain such."

Geoffrey translates, then listens to Captain Wesley's response.

"He thanks you," Geoffrey tells me. "And says that he should return to the fortress, so that he can alleviate the worries of his troops."

"Thank you for the visit," I tell him. "And again, I do apologize for not sending notice earlier, but the griffins arrived sooner than I expected. Please, enjoy your day."

Geoffrey translates for me, and it becomes evident once he finishes the Ekelian soldiers are confused as to what to do. They should not stand before I do, yet I am making no move to stand, yet am still dismissing them.

In the end, they decide to stand and leave, wishing me well even as they hope they have not performed a slight for that. They have not. The entire situation was treated informally, and in a situation such as this, the normal custom for departure does not apply.

I am sure Captain Wesley will send a message to their capital informing them of our arrival and apparent disinterest in Ekeli. After hearing that, those at the capital will wonder if we are here because of the war and knowledge that they are being spoken to by Vel or Nelem.

Then, they will send an ambassador out here to speak with us. Once that happens, negotiations will truly begin.

The question here is whether or not Captain Wesley will inform them of my interaction with the griffins. I am sure the young man saw me speaking with them, then riding off. His reaction to Griffin Alpha told me that he was the one who saw me talking with them.

One of three things will happen. Either Captain Wesley will state in the report that I am speaking with griffins, he will make no mention of the griffins and only say that we are camping out here, only to mention it when the ambassador arrives, or he will make no mention of it at all, even after the ambassador arrives.

What he does will determine how they react. Whether or not they believe his word that I am speaking with the griffins without issue, they will still act with additional caution.

If my estimates are correct, it takes a day to travel from the fort to the capital, possibly two if they do not rush. Then give them a day to prepare, possibly two. Factoring in the return trip, we have three to six days before the ambassador arrives at the fort. They would no doubt wait a full day after arrival to approach us, in order to thoroughly speak with every person who has watched us or spoken with us.

If this continues for every kingdom we have to worry about, I will be gone for at least two months possibly three. Optimally, I might manage to succeed in only one month, maybe one and a half months.

Regardless of what happens, however, it is time to prove that Jeshema and Mar are not the only nations with princes who can perform large-scale negotiations using unconventional tactics.

I only wish I had the Orb of Spring with me. That would make this a little bit more fun. Their reaction to seeing it simply sitting off to the side, as if nothing more than an everyday tool, would be quite amusing.

As that thought crosses my mind, I sigh. Jason has begun to influence me in some ways, too. Six months ago, I never would have considered using an ancient artifact such as the Orb of Spring just to prove a point.

Perhaps it is a bit of my old personality returning? Even if I am not grey, some parts of me have assimilated themselves back to me due to Jason reaching grey. While it seemed to be mostly memories, could it have been more?

Something to think on. But I can think just as well in the bath as I can here, and I smell like griffin.