The meeting room was grim and dark as a dungeon’s sewer and had the stench to boot. I held a scented gem close to my nose to waft off the smell, but it worked only just. The rest of my retinue had to make do with pinching their nose. The same went for everybody else, be it the Sea-Caller or the Trade-Master. With such numbers abound, even with the reputation we all held, the tension was at an all-time high. Or perhaps it’s exactly because of it that we were so wired, so alert to every move and action. It’d be a compliment, either way, I suppose.

Birds of the same feather flock together, as fools often say. I gave a look to an ally of mine, the Lone Adventurer, who was currently taking a nap. Even with no lackeys, his side projected considerable power.

But the only question worth asking here and now though, is what can I do to make things work for me? I passed a glance to the Sea-Caller, Merrydan. She’s been handling several groups of recent upstart pirates in the South-East Border Sea. and the fame was getting to her. She made several deals to transport goods without the help of the Trade-Master. A dangerous play, given how greedy that penny-pincher is. I would understand a bit of hostility to surface on his face. But the stone-faced snake looked as impassive as ever, drinking out of a wine glass and eating coins.

As for me, I am of course only the humble Diplomat, the face of this motley group of scum. I meet with chiefs, governors, kings, and all manner of titles associated with leaders. I can make compliments insulting and insults charming, to a certain extent. My true goal is to get the Order under my thumb. In an ideal world, I'd do it with a puppet leader I can control behind the scenes. But the hierarchy this far up has become too flat and decentralized. No one has a real “leg-up” on one another, and so no one can be The Leader.

Well, we almost had one once. I sighed. But then he had and go and get himself exiled. Sent an awful letter too. It made me faint. I extended an arm to grab another gem to smell but got fruit instead. The idiot that made this mistake got whisked away by my guards. The next in line got the message loud and clear, and I got a violet-colored gem. I looked over the masses around me again, counting the heads that matter. Satisfied at the count of seven, I stood up from my seat and prepared my welcoming remarks.

“Welcome, my fellows! I’m glad you all could make the time for this meeting.” I bowed a bit and lifted my hat a tad. “I know you’re all busy, so let’s get right to the point: Knight is dead.” Murmurs traveled across the room, and I saw with great interest where they went. The noisiest corner came from the Trade-Master’s side. His face seemed like it aged a day every second. His neighbor, the Lone Swordsman, seemed to wake up and stared at me with a flat face.

“Is that all?” The Sea-Caller shouted above the din. “So a traitor is dead. What does that have to do anything with the Order? I’m more surprised he survived ‘till this long.” Merrydan glared at the Master of Crows, who returned it with a cold stare. “This is why the old should retire already and let new blood bring the future to this ancient Order.”

“A foolish proposition.” The Insightful Researcher boomed with his voice-shouter. “The wisdom that comes with age cannot be easily replaced with passionate drivel. You are a fool drunk with fleeting glory, Sea-Caller. Know your place, whelp.”

“Oh, I don’t know, dear.” The Constant Liar interjected as expected. “I also think there’s some grain of truth in what Sea-Caller calls for. We need to clean house once in a while, don’t you all agree?” Both the Sea-Caller and the Insightful Researcher looked appalled. But judging by how wound up his jaw was, I’d say Merrydan had no intention of rescinding his position. My hand gripped my fan tighter, fanning the building excitement in my face away to the wind.

“Gentlemen, please control yourselves. This is hardly the time or place for such a heated debate.” I said, “I was also not done with my prior announcement. A traitor’s death is usually not worth a mention, but I must also add in that Hosea Zai and his men are also dead.” This made a bigger impact, with even the servants breaking into fervent whispers. I smiled behind my fan, relishing the power I held over this gathering of fools. The Master of Crows glared at me from my left, looking like he was on the brink of tackling me. Everyone else did much of the same, save for the Lone Swordsman, who had broken into a sly grin.

“Impossible.” The Insightful Researcher spoke, “They were the Order’s top team-”

“One of the top teams.” The Constant Liar slipped in a caveat. “And part of the old blood, isn’t it Sinta?”

Don’t act so familiar with me, maggot. I put on my best smile with great effort at the bald-faced liar. You’re filth wrapped in gold and silver. I want to kill you so much, but there’s probably already a line for that. I fanned my face to cool my rage, then replied, “I’d say that old or new has nothing to do with strength. You are strong or you are weak. That’s all there is to it.”

“It's an undeserved reputation that they’ve got, that’s all.” The Constant Liar threw his hands up and mock surrendered. “But I can see that it is indeed a proper topic to talk about with all of us present.”

“It is.” The Insightful Researcher crossed his arms. “I nominate Eu-Lon and his group for the vacant position.”

“I nominate Cort and his cohorts.” The Sea-Caller said, “It is the only choice that makes sense.”

“I nominate …” The Constant Liar spun in his chair once before speaking again. “The Desperation.”

“But that’s a weapon!” The Insightful Researcher roared. “Mock this tradition again and I’ll have your spines!”

“YOU’RE WELCOME TO TRY, OLD MAN!” The Constant Liar reared up to his true height, scraping the ceiling with his head. “And I wasn’t finished. I will hold a private choosing ritual for the weapon. The one chosen will be my nomination, along with anyone else that tags along with them.”

“Arnold, is this even allowed?” I leaned to the Master of Crows and whispered. The dark man frowned at my closeness but gave a small nod. The others seemed to have caught on as well, and the Constant Liar sat back down in his seat, a nauseating grin on his face. The turn then came to the Lone Swordsman, but he had fallen asleep again.

“I nominate Adipati Surya and his hundred followers.” The Trade-Master gestured behind him to a large golden statue sitting deep in thought. I nodded at the decent choice until I realized that it was now my turn. Every head turned my way, and I gulped. I said, with a calm face and an even tone, “I nominate Sabine Moreau, daughter of Mathis Moreau.” The reaction to my choice was ... mixed. Some looking at me like I was crazy. Some looked at me with quiet respect. A fair amount seemed panicked, and I understand their reasoning.

Amidst all this, the Lone Swordsman clapped, instantly silencing all. Everyone’s attention turned to him instead, which relieved me greatly. The ones closest to him, the Sea-Caller and the Trade-Master tried to see if he was awake or not. His wide-brimmed hat made the attempt difficult, and so they gave up. That anomaly aside, everyone soon returned to see who the Master of Crows would nominate. Would it be his first son, Deva Long? Or his right-hand man, Toronsi? Well, whoever he chooses, it’s going to be someone powerful for sure. I thought with certainty.

“I nominate … Alver Long.” A shout came from behind Arnold, but it was quickly muffled. The surprise wasn’t confined to that side, as everyone had a collective look of confusion. I looked at Arnold to see if he was, in some twisted way, joking about this. It wasn’t in character and I’ve never seen him ever make a joke or laughed at one. Nothing’s impossible in this world, though. But with his locked-in jaw and sharp stare, he was as serious as he always was. I turned my head back to catch a sight of the poor sap Arnold chose, but couldn’t saw him.

Alver Long. Third son of the third wife of Arnold Longinus. A bright lad, if a bit naive. I tried to piece together the scraps of information I had on Arnold’s family. He’s in the middle of his college education as a civil engineer and has no prior experience with weapons or death. He’s a proverbial lamb to be slaughtered, and I know Arnold must know this as well. So why?

“Lone Swordsman, it’s time for you to nominate your candidate.” The Sea-Caller shouted to the sleeping swordmaster. “And no, you cannot nominate yourself.” The figure stirred and a long sigh escaped from under the hat. The Lone Swordsman sat up straight and stared off into the distance. After several minutes of silence, he spoke, “I nominate Mathis Moreau.”

“Hey, hold on, you’re not allowed to use members of the same family!” I shouted, cursing myself for not using Sabine’s much more experienced father. “The point of having a candidate is to make sure that they will fight for your side and yours alone. No other incentive is to exist to stray them from that path. Arnold, talk some sense into this fool!”

“I disagree as well with that choice. Mathis Moreau would kill us all if he knew his daughter got involved. He must remain in the dark.” Constant Liar surprised everyone with that sensible remark. “I ask you to change your nomination as well, Sinta. That family is not worth any advantage you think you’ll get from using their blood. I know all too well of what happens to those that stand in Mathis Moreau’s path.”

“Your words are worth as much as the air you breathe, Liar.” I sneered. “The weapon you’d have some witless fool wield is a far more dangerous and unstable element. You’re more likely to create a monster than a tool with your goal. And I look forward to seeing you fail even more because of it.”

“I can't believe I’m saying this, but … the Liar’s words have some merit.” The Insightful Researched said, looking like he ate shit as those words left him. “The Order has prospered this far because we are careful and tempered in our actions. We do not kill without cause, nor do we spare lives without reason. I see no real reason why you can’t choose someone else, Sinta and Lone Swordsman.”

This is bullshit. I cursed with a strained face. You all get to pick your favorite killers. Meanwhile, I can’t even use a woman from some backward frontier village because her daddy was a real monster. I reached out for another gem to sniff and got it, but it cracked when I brought it to my face. The sight snapped me back to my usual state of mind, and I calmed down. I searched in me an alternative when a stray thought came front and center. I scoffed at it, shooed it away, and tried to ignore it, and yet it persisted. Equal part curious and annoyed, I decided to try it out.

“Okay, Liar, Researcher. I concede your point.” I gave them each a glowing smile. “So, I would like to nominate Hosea Zai as my candidate.” This sidelined everyone saves for Arnold, whose face didn't change when I glanced at him. The Lone Swordsman soon followed my lead by saying, “I nominate Knight as my candidate.” Murmurs rippled through the crowd in rising intensity. It was only out of discipline and fear that things remained civil.

“This is unlike you, Diplomat.” The Insightful Researcher took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. “But it is not against the rules, somehow.”

“It’s not?” The Sea-Caller asked, her face a growing storm. “How is it not against the rules?! She nominated a dead man, and the Lone Swordsman up and picked a literal traitor.”

“Nowhere.” Arnold suddenly spoke up. “Nowhere in the wording and spirit of the rules of the Tournament does it state that the candidates had to be alive. That very word’s definition itself is tenuous at best. That is my opinion on this matter.” The Master of Crows emphasized his point by producing a copy of the Order’s rulebook out of nowhere. He then tossed it to the Sea-Caller. It landed with a great thud right in front of Merrydan. The look on Merrydan's face says it all, and it made me smile.

“Thank you for the assist,” I whispered to the Master of Crows.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Arnold said, leaning back on his chair. “Also, consider it a test. Death suffers no escapees, after all.” I shivered and gave a small nod. The Master of Crows then got up and said, "This meeting is over."

The words were like a vanishing spell, with people emptying out of the room at an impressive rate. I myself sat on my palanquin and sank into my pillows, giving Arnold one last wave before I left. He didn’t wave back but gave a stiff bow instead. His shape melted into a murder of crows, which then flew away, cawing all the while.