Captain Aziz, the second-in-command of the legendary Thunderbolt Battalion, heroes of the Republic of Francois, was twiddling his thumbs in a comfortable room. He was sitting on a bed, basking in a glorious state of unprecedented calm and incredible mental acuity. Beside him, an unbelievably beautiful woman was fast asleep under the blankets — although the captain wasn’t too sure if a familiar spirit actually needed it. His clothes were folded up nicely and placed on the nearby table, alongside a toga that still radiated a divine vermillion gold.

There were other unmentionables placed around the table, and now that the captain was painfully aware of what had just transpired in the past thirty-odd hours, he could only pray that the Worldshaper either didn’t mind the little captain doing what he had done, or was too distracted by the party of diplomats in His throne room to notice.

The two had started off by talking about the possibility of Aziz joining the faith of the Worldshaper. After that, they played a few rounds of cards and other assorted games. One thing led to another, and somehow, they started…wrestling under the bedsheets. He wasn’t too sure how that happened, but it seemed that even familiar spirits had their own needs too.

Gods. His ears burned at that memory, but he couldn’t help but recall what came next. He hadn’t done that for years — war was not conducive to plans and pleasure — and as it turned out, the man had been more starved of physical intimacy than he realised. Breathing in deeply, Aziz picked up his clothes and headed to the adjacent room to wash up.

There was a metallic implement at the top, where warm water would gush out when he pressed a button located somewhere waist high. According to Rene, this whole setup was called a shower, and the two had used it for some fun prior. Warm water pelted his face, a sore reminder that he was actually in the God of Fire’s Divine Kingdom, where its owner probably had unrestricted viewing rights to anywhere and everywhere within it.

The Arbiter of Flames was clothed and awake when he walked out of the shower. Nothing remained on her face about the events that had happened between the two of them, and with some sorrow in his heart, Captain Aziz realised that she too had returned to business mode.

“The Lord is presently occupied by your companions, Mister Aziz.” Rene hesitated for a moment, as red crept up her pale face. “And He doesn’t mind acts of passion between two consenting adults. Also, I don’t expect any sort of obligation from you. Just so you know.”

Her last sentence murdered the captain’s brave statement about taking responsibility while it was in its infancy. While he tried to find some words to carry on the conversation, Familiar Spirit Rene smiled and said, “The negotiations should be almost over. Let us return.”

The two stepped out of the waiting room, with no hint that anything other than a good chat had just occurred. The guards, who were busy mimicking statues by the sides of the magnificent door that led to Liamar’s throne room, didn’t blink as the two appeared. The familiar spirit turned around and waved her hands at the door she and Aziz stepped out from, and the room vanished, leaving behind a segment of wall like any other.

“As a keepsake,” Rene whispered.

Captain Aziz felt his face go red. Faking a coughing fit, the man turned around and covered his face, until the uncomfortable warmth had vanished. He had a feeling that if the boys of Thunderbolt saw him as he was right now, he would lose whatever respect they held for him entirely.

Delving deep into his mind, the captain touched upon his mental strength, and felt a serene grace return to his mind. A cold chill settled on his face, qi coursing through the energy channels of his body and then through his veins.

He was ready for war.

A detached corner of the captain’s mind noted that there was probably something absurd about using pre-war rituals to regain one’s ability to interact with people normally, but there wasn’t really much Captain Aziz could do about it. A moment later, he felt Rene’s gaze on him, which he met with all due calmness. The primal urges that had gone out of control for a few moments after stepping out of the room had been utterly squashed by his rational mind.

Aziz could feel Rene’s curious gaze, but before she could say anything, the door had opened with a groan. A troop of half-alive men staggered out from the room. Steam buffeted their nearly-lifeless bodies, bringing with it a wave of heat that uncomfortable to the touch.

“What’s with that steam?” Aziz asked.

“What steam?” She asked. “That’s just the environment of the Throne Room. My Lord governs fire, after all.”

The captain looked at the gap between the closing doors, and shook his head. If the diplomats had not cultivated at all, a few might have breathed their last there and then. Staying in such an environment for over a day was something he did to a bunch of aspiring scouts, not something diplomats were supposed to do. The fact that they hadn’t collapsed yet spoke volumes about their tenacity, drive and ability to negotiate.

Whatever lingering resentment he had regarding the actions of these diplomats while they were travelling here had vanished. Instead of rushing them to return, Aziz chose to let the diplomats mill around in a daze. A few of them were taking out bottles of water from their backpacks and handing them out to their more confused buddies, and after half an hour, most of them had regained enough use of their mental faculties to start heading back.

“Form up behind me,” said the familiar spirit. “We’ll be going back to the resting place of your escorts.”

The diplomats did as they were told, and Aziz brought up the rear as the long line of exhausted men and women made their way back to the room of lush fields. The soldiers of Thunderbolt were lazing around the area. Some were asleep, while others whiling away the time by playing Skulls and some new boardgame that had recently made its rounds around the battalion.

Heads turned as more and more soldiers realised that the party had returned. Of course, Captain Aziz knew that the chances of the diplomats actually divulging what exactly happened during the negotiations were next to nothing, but as it turned out, the soldiers were more interested in the appearance of the Worldshaper than the actual negotiations.

But when all was said and done, it was time to leave. None of the escorts knew what the outcome of the negotiations were, but from the looks of it, a preliminary arrangement had been reached. The familiar spirit had opened up a swirling rift, and the others filed out of it slowly, chattering the entire way.

“Farewell, delegates of the South. May your road back be uneventful,” the familiar spirit murmured quietly. “And you too, captain.”

The two friends exchanged nods as the last few soldiers stepped through the rift.

“Thank you…Rene.” The captain smiled. The two exchanged a parting glance, before Aziz stepped into the rift.