97 years before Salem would attack Atlas, a young boy sat in a large room filled with row upon row of ageing ministers that served as the King of Vale's Councillors. On his birth the boy had been named Prince Oztan, second in line to the Kingdom of Vale and protector of the continent of Sanus. However, at 19 years of age he found it increasingly difficult to identify with that title, or rather, perhaps the man that lived in his head couldn't relate.
Oztan had first spoken to him 4 years prior and had nearly driven him to despair for fear of madness. Oztan had lived in fear of the demon that had taken over his mind for months after it first spoke and had sought help from both his Brother, the heir to the Kingdom of Vale and his Father the King himself. It did not take very long for Oztan to realize that he would find no help from what remained of his family; since his Mother had passed and the state of the world at large meant that his minor grievances with being cursed held little gravity in the face of an impending war.
Eventually, Oztan had learned the truth behind his demon of course. An ancient warrior cursed with eternal life in order to prevent an equally ancient evil from destroying the world. However, it seemed as though his plans to defeat said evil directly were on hold at the moment as Oztan was now sitting among a war council listening to ever increasing doom-speech about the fragility of the peace between the 4 Kingdoms of the world.
We should listen to the council meeting Oztan, this will affect us as much as anyone else.
Now, had that been Oztan's own thought or was it that of Ozma? He was finding it increasingly difficult to understand which was which in recent months. Still, whoever had said it they were probably right, though as a non-heir Prince it wasn't like he could do much in the grand scheme of things.
"Preposterous!" a Councilman shouted, giving Oztan a jolt as his attention was brought back to the council meeting.
"Agreed, this alliance between Mantel and Mistral leaves us exposed to a line of fire spanning half the world" another councilman stated.
The world was becoming a much more heated place in recent years. Mantel and Mistral had recently allied and the balance of power had shifted undeniably against Vale who now stood alone against two regimes that went against almost every ideal the Kingdom of Vale stood for. The Kingdom of Mantle was a powerful authoritarian dictatorship that relied upon the ruggedness of its people and the brutal oppression of it's slaves to fuel an economy built for war, whilst the Kingdom of Mistral was an empire that adhered to a strict tradition of a massive class divide and a complete disregard for any form of moral standards for the aristocracy that ran the empire. The alliance between these two great powers would be worrying for anyone and particularly for a people that believed in the individual freedoms of all above all else.
The meeting devolved into a murmur of grumbles and vicious words against the other kingdoms as ministers all around the room berated the King with an endless stream of problems that the union of their enemies was causing.
"Their combined military might could destroy us."
"Mistral are refusing trade deals that have been integral to our economy for centuries."
"There is talk of a wave of immigrants from Mantel landing on our shores in the coming months."
The murmur in the room steadily grew into raised voices among the ministers. Some spat back insults at each other, accusing their political rivals as fear-mongers, whilst others declared radical solutions that had been discussed since the alliance had come into effect.
"We should embargo both Kingdoms, strangle their economies until they have to listen to us."
"We should be out their claiming the rest of our continent, send caravans to secure our shores and establish new settlements for trade."
"We should fight for our safety, declare that any act of aggression be seen as an act of war!"
A monotone cheer filled the council room and echoed off of the high ceiling, filling Oztans ears. The thought of a war didn't fill him with hope, after all Mantel was the world's strongest military power and were no doubt dealing their advanced weaponry to their friends. Most importantly of all however, a war would require aggressive, uncompromising leadership and his father was not the man needed to lead his people into a war.
He is an indecisive man that relies on the good of humanity to keep the peace.
Once again Oztan's thoughts became muddled. His father had always taught him that peace was the way forward for the betterment of man, but if man was bent on trying to subjugate everything around it how could peace prevent that?
We need to do something, say something to sway the council into action.
Yet Oztan sat silent, riddled with confusion and conflict. War couldn't be the only option, it just couldn't. Vale cannot win alone. Yet Vale stands alone. What could Oztan do? He was just a prince, barely old enough to be considered among the council. He had no power to sway his people. Neither does the king. He was Oztan's father, his King! Oztan's King will be the end of the Kingdom and Vale and the final nail in the coffin for the rest of the world.
The noise in Oztan's head was deafening, he didn't know if he was talking to himself or his unwelcome guest. The council room was now filled with the shouting of old men that knew nothing but fear of a foreign nation that they didn't understand. The King, scratching at the long grey hair on his head, sat in his chair in the centre of the room; seemingly gazing idly up into the ceiling as if waiting for an answer to present itself from above. Oztan's older brother, Marcus stood next to the King, adorned in fine armour as if to display his support for the councilors call for war as he stared expectantly at his father.
The noise wouldn't stop. Oztan just wanted the noise to stop.
"Silence!" roared the King of Vale. Rising quickly from his chair and knocking it to the ground in a loud clatter against the hard wooden floors of the room, seemingly stunning the councilmen into a wary quiet.
The elderly King, as quickly as his energy had come, visibly sagged as he stood breathing heavily in front of his advisers. The King continued to speak.
"I have heard your grievances, your accusations… your fears. I understand the pressure this alliance has put on our people and I know the decree you wish to hear from me."
The words lay thick in the air of the room, taking immediate dominance of the everyone's attention.
"However, I will decree now only this" the King continued, "The Kingdom of Vale cannot win a war against two of the great powers of the world alone. The Kingdom of Vacuo has already stated total neutrality in the matter, meaning that should the time arrive we shall receive no help from them. Can you honestly say, that even with this knowledge, you would be willing to fight and die in a war that you knew had no chance of being won?"
The faces of the councilmen clouded over with visible acknowledgment of this fact, the truth dawning on them in a crushing blow to their willingness to fight mere moments before.
"I also understand that there are those among us here that, despite these facts, war seems to be the only valid option in ensuring the safety of our Kingdom; should the the Kingdoms of Mantel and Mistral set foot on our shores" said the King, visibly turning towards his oldest son who stood rigid and stone-faced next to his Father.
"I assure you, that should the people of Vale come under attack that we would fight to protect them. However, if the opportunity to coexist with our peers is available would you argue that such an option would be the better choice?" Spoke the King, turning to face everyone present in turn.
The council spoke among themselves for a few seconds in hushed voices. Oztan rubbed one eye and sat in amazement at how quickly these people who just moments before had been ready to fight to protect what was theirs had been cowed into submission by a man barely able to stand by himself.
"This council is dismissed, leave me and my sons to speak alone" said the King.
The room emptied quickly with the sound of shuffling bodies gradually growing fainter until just the 3 royals stood alone in the large space. The King ambled over to a chair to the side, not bothering to pick up his knocked over chair and sat facing both his sons.
"Both of you are now old enough to have your opinions on matters of state, I now wish to hear your sides on the matter with no outward influence from the council" stated the King in a firm voice, rubbing his brow as he did so.
Marcus stepped forward immediately, his armour clinking with each movement.
"Father, I wish for you to know that whatever your decision on the matter, I shall support it with every fiber of my being. You are the King and I will follow you wherever you go" exclaimed Marcus, standing upright and proud.
The King nodded, without any indication of what he thought of his son's statement and turned to Oztan with an expectant look. Oztan stared back at his Father with a sudden feeling of anger towards him. Was the best course of action his Father could come up with really to do nothing? How would that protect the people? How would that stop the unease that plagued the land?
How will that protect the Relics?
Oztan paused and rubbed his eyes in order to ease the pressure in his head. He had to say something, anything to spur his Father into action without causing offense.
"I understand that peace has always been the policy of the Kingdom of Vale Father. Unfortunately, I believe that policy to be the leading factor in allowing others to take advantage of a people forced into peace. Expecting people to just accept that violence is not an option is an unrealistic expectation that will not pan out how you hope it will. It is my belief that all it will do is weaken our resolve when the fight finally does come."
Oztan's words reached his Father, yet he once again he gave no visible sign as to what he thought of the statement. An uncomfortable silence ensued until finally the King responded.
"You believe the resolve of our Kingdom has weakened with our stance towards peace? Very well my son, how would you strengthen our Kingdom's resolve?"
He's testing us Oztan, feeling us out. He doesn't understand that there is more at stake than meets the eye and we cannot tell him. We need to ensure the Relics safety, the world's safety, from her clutches. That means we need to protect Sanus. We need a new approach, we need fresh ideas…
"We need a new generation to advise the King" stated Oztan in a firm and clear voice. "We need to replace this council that respects your long reign Father because, whilst I respect and understand the peace you have granted Vale during your time on the throne has been great, the council are no longer willing to challenge what you say for fear of being wrong about war in the face of years of peace. We need new blood that cares not for the prestige of the old but cares for the betterment of the Kingdom"
The King sat motionless in front of his sons and stared at Oztan for what felt like hours. Neither of the Princes dared move for fear of incurring an anger that seemed to be building up behind their Father's eyes. Finally, the King stood up and walked slowly to the door to leave, stopping at the doorway to turn towards Oztan.
"Find this new blood then Oztan" said the King in a soft voice. "Find these people that will strengthen our resolve and prove to me that the opinion of war mongers is worth my time."
With these words the King turned and left the room, shortly followed by Marcus who gave Oztan a dirty look as he walked past.
It appears our Father has given us a task.
Oztan sighed and slumped in his chair.
"Why did I have to be the one chosen to protect the world?" Oztan asked himself, standing up and walking towards the door.
I have myself that many times. The ache in Oztan's head remained as he thought about how he could find a group of people that would help him save Remnant.