Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way. Special thanks to Trainalf for co-authoring this. As for further deployments, it's gonna be limited. Combat in Halkeginia doesn't require large amounts of troops given the extreme technological differences; What was sent was more than was needed in the first place… for example… the 4th Battalion isn't even a Regular Force unit… it's a Primary Reserve unit or as some of my friends serving in that unit joked, a militia unit. The artillery guns at the portal were C3 howitzers from a reserve unit… a modernized version of a WW2 American artillery gun, the 105mm M2/M101 howitzer. Considering what they did… no need for more.
As for Louise, you cannot simply arrest another citizen/subject from another country without a valid crime against humanity reason… and do remember that Fate of a World's Louise is a very decent if short tempered and unconfident person unlike canon (especially in the anime) where she would be arrested for domestic violence. She hasn't abused Saito at all and her treatment of him is within normal and acceptable bounds. Making her disappear would be out of the question since there would be simply too many questions asked that could risk the alliance.
As for Earth staking a claim on Halkeginia… not happening simply because it would be political suicide in Canada and in the US to get that much involved. It would be seen as an invasion of a sovereign kingdom not to mention a way of making civil unrest as people would be clashing over the old vs the new ways. It would also be a source of backlash at the UN… Trump might not care about the UN much… but Trudeau fucking does as Canada's international reputation and national identity is based off the good work it does at the UN.
There's also the fact that the local government is viable if outdated by Earth standards. Canada and the US won't have to build a regime from scratch and deal with having to legitimize it to the locals. It's much less costly working with Henrietta and the nobles to rebuild Tristain and shore up a bit the local, functioning government than to force a complete change of system.
Picking up the Pieces
Cromwell stood up in a daze. His footing was uneven and it took a moment to realize he was standing on a slanted service. He couldn't understand what had just happened to his flagship. One second, it was fighting proudly against the blasphemous Tristainians before a massive burst of light engulfed him. Was this the power of Void magic?
He looked around and could see only ruin. The Lexington was destroyed. He looked directly up and saw not only the towering walls of Tristain, but the point where the hull had been torn in half. It would never fly again.
He wasn't the only one awake. Footsteps could be heard as the crew fled the ship, no doubt preferring to escape the enemy's wrath. His officers were all gone, wanting to save their hides.
'How did it come to this?' was the thought that ran through his mind. It was like his fatigue had been concussed out him. Everything was clear and no longer hazy. He could see the past victories he had gotten against the Tudors. From the small insurrections to the final, great battle that gave his ship its name, it was a glorious string of memories in the name of the Founder.
But it was gone in an instant. Tristainia still stood defiantly and the enemy's reinforcements was entering the capital.
"Lord-Protector! Thank the Founder you are unharmed!" a voice said, cutting him from his grim musings. It was a pair of simple sailors that looked at him devoutly.
"We must get you out of this accursed place and return to Albion!" one of the sailors said urgently, "Do you need us to carry you?"
Maybe there was a chance of salvation.
"Brimir shall reward you for your devotion sailor," Cromwell said weakly as they were about to pick him up, "I do not need assistance to walk." He tried to stand tall. "Come." He beckoned them to follow him. "We must escape before the heretics come."
The combined footsteps and overlapping murmuring alerted the war room to the approaching crowd before the doors opened to reveal it. At the forefront was Saito, carrying an unconscious Louise bridal style. Beside him watching the pinkette was Henrietta and Agnes on either side. And behind them- a massive crowd of onlookers that had gathered on the battlements and only grown in size once they entered the Palace. Musketeers, gunners, and Palace staff all following.
They were all whispering the same thing to each other and repeating the phrase in their head: Void.
Henrietta had uttered the phrase up on the battlements first, recognizing it immediately for what it was. And everyone had suddenly flocked around her.
The Earth officers had not idea who Louise was or why a near mob had invaded the war room. It added to them trying to understand how the enemy had somehow botched a WMD strike.
"Your Majesty!" Du Poitier exclaimed, "I am glad that you are unharmed!"
"Thank you General," Henrietta answered, "I bring joyous news!"
Côté and Evans looked at each other, suddenly wondering if the queen knew something about the explosion. Her joyful expression had them perplexed as well.
"Your Majesty," Evans cleared his throat, "We need to discuss with you and your military leaders about a very urgent matter."
"What happened Major Evans?" she asked, confused at his uneasy tone.
Another set of doors suddenly burst open and in rushed Duke and Duchess Valliere, followed closely behind by Marshal Grammond. They'd rushed to the Palace to check on the Queen after that explosion, but for the Vallières' another matter quickly took up their minds.
"Louise!" Karen shouted as she saw her daughter in her familiar's arms.
"Aun- Duchess Vallière, your daughter has done a miracle," Henrietta said as she looked at the Vallière matriarch.
This caught Evans and Côté's attention. The pieces were slowly falling into place in their mind but they needed confirmation.
"A miracle?" Marshall Grammond asked, "What do you mean your Majesty?"
"Louise has won the battle," Henrietta declared, "It was her magic has destroyed the enemy's flagship."
"How-how?" Duke Vallière spluttered out while both Côté and Evans' faces hardened.
"Your Majesty, is this true?" the Canadian officer asked seriously. That small girl had done that?
"Many have witnessed it," Henrietta replied, "And I have witnessed it with my own eyes. She is a Void Mage." Louise's parents gasped in shock, a hand flying up to the Duchess' mouth.
"Good Lord," Major Evans said under his breath, realizing how serious the situation had just become. He'd read the briefings on what Void was from a military and social standpoint. Henrietta caught on to the mood of the Earth officers, concerned in the midst of shocked and awed faces.
"That little girl there? She's like a Second Coming to these people." Evans whispered to his Canadian comrade who nodded tensely. "That type of magic is like what the atomic bomb became in our world. We have to tread carefully." Côté grimaced as he nodded, understanding the severity of this situation. Henrietta was still staring at them questioningly.
"Your Majesty, this 'miracle'," Côté paused, trying to find his words to avoid offending the religious sensitivities of the Tristainians, "has somewhat frightened our leadership. I just want to make it clear now we'll have to discuss this dangerous matter later."
The room became a lot more serious as the gathered Tristainians looked at the two officers with disbelief and indignation.
"What do you mean by 'dangerous matter'?" Duke Vallière asked suddenly, his face tense, "My daughter has single handedly won this battle with her powers! How is this a danger?!"
Evans decided to explain and he hoped he could reason with the Tristainians before things got out of hand. This was not the time for a major dispute.
"Her powers are impressive. To able to inflict such destruction in such a short lapse time would make many envious, even in my world," the British officer explained, "Such a capability is what we call on Earth a Weapon of Mass Destruction or WMD for short."
"If such a weapon exists, why do we not use it to win a war swiftly?" Marshal Grammond asked, irritated by his counterparts' lack of will.
"Because using such a weapon can entice your enemy to create his own version of it against you. It would also escalate the conflict even further as they will have a justification to deploy more destructive weaponry." Côté stated, "Bringing only more bloodshed."
"As if Albion could possess a Void Mage!" du Poitier scoffed, "Only a truly pious Blessed Realm could have such a blessing from the Founder himself!"
Both Earth officers looked at each other, realizing they had neither the information or the standing to deal with this. The discussion would have to be done later on.
"Please disregard what I just said. I believe we should discuss this matter once the city is secured," Côté finally said. "The battle is still ongoing."
That did it. What the Earth officers said very much was true. They could all be awed later. Right now, they had to finish saving their city. Saito and Louise were sent away to rest, and the war continued.
After escaping the crashed Lexington, Cromwell and the pair of sailors had to sneak through the ruined city, trying to find a breech in the wall they could escape through. They ducked into destroyed buildings as the enemy's infernal airships still flew above, not doubt looking for anyone who had survived the crash. It was a harrowing task, any slip could mean death or capture. They would hide everytime they could hear the chopping sounds draw near them.
At the same time, they also tried to find any straggling Albion troops to aid them in their escape. Their search had not yielded anything. They could hear the enemy's regular gunfire in the distance. And soon the streets they sulked were full of prowling, vengeful Tristainians. They were being hunted.
Cromwell silently prayed for salvation as a group of Tristainians passed by. None of them decided to enter the ruined building. The three men waited for the soldiers to pass. The sound of wings flapping caught the Albionians' attention.
"Lord-Protector!" one whispered, "There's a pair of mages on the street in front of us. One has a large dragon."
Cromwell knew this meant as an opportunity as he walked out of the building. The two mages were two girls, probably old enough to be students at the Academy. One was a well developed tall redhead while the other was a bluenette that looked like a fragile doll.
Kirche and Tabitha suddenly heard a voice before their bodies seized up.
"With this brilliance, become my prisoner!" a blond man dressed in ragged green clothes shouted as a purple streak of light surrounded the two girls.
"What's happening?!" Kirche exclaimed as she and Tabitha were forced to kneel before the man. The diminutive bluenette recognized the ring on the man's hand.
"The ring of Andvari!" she exclaimed, to Kirche's shock.
"You mean the ring that was stolen?" Their adventure to the Water Spirit with the others seemed so far gone after all this time. Kirche had honestly forgotten it.
"Y-yes!"
"Someone help-" Kirche's words died in her throat as the ring's magic forced her into silence.
"By order of Brimir's chosen prophet," Cromwell spoke, "you will help me esca-"
A roar cut his sentence as a dirty, bloodied figure dashed from seemingly nowhere, with a sword in hand. Kirche and Tabitha saw the flash of metal slice through the air before a spurt of crimson liquid sprouted from the man's elbow.
Cromwell looked at his handless arm as shouted in pain before he collapsed.
"Guiche look out!" Kirche called, free of the ring's effect. One of the sailors was raising his own sword above the young noble's head, which he just barely managed to block. Both sailors surrounded him threateningly, vengeance on their mind.
"How dare you attack our Lord-Protector?!" the sailors roared, "You shall pay fo- argh"
Rapid gunfire cut both of them down. Looking to the source, they saw musketeers in checkered green uniforms emerging from another street.
"Secure those locals!" a voice shouted as the men and women moved to protect them, their muskets still raised.
"Canadian Army! Is everyone alright?" one of them asked quickly, "Anyone injured?"
"No-no we're unharmed," Kirche managed to answer, "Thank you for your help!"
Guiche was breathing heavily, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. He had almost died right there.
"Lord Grammond! Are you unharmed!?" another voice shouted. Some of his unit had caught up to him.
"Morin! Take a look at that man!" a man instructed, "Pépin and Lessard, secure that prisoner! Make sure he doesn't bleed out!"
"Yes sarge!"
Morin made his way to Guiche, telling the Tristainians to let him through so that the medic could help him. Meanwhile, the two other soldiers had managed to stop the fallen prisoner's bleeding.
"He's in a bit of shock but he should calm down soon," the medic reported as he helped calm down Guiche.
The sergeant turned his attention to the girls.
"I am Sergeant Julien Gingras," he said gently, "Can you tell me what has happened here? How did you end up here?"
"Yes, we were trying to help find survivors and some of our friends who went missing during the fighting," Kirche answered, "We had landed with Tabitha's dragon here when that man came out of nowhere and used some kind of magic to control us. Our friend then saved us by attacking the man."
'Son of a bitch,' the Canadian thought before contacting his superior for further instructions. He was ordered to keep watch over the prisoner and locals until his lieutenant arrived as well as trying and get more information about the prisoner if possible. Judging by his dress, the man looked important. Perhaps some kind of religious figure or battle priest? He quickly got the names of the nobles there.
"Do you know who this man might be Lady von Zerbst?"
"I'm afraid not."
"The sailors said he was a Lord-Protector," Guiche suddenly said up from where he was sitting. Just then, they heard someone call the sergeant's name. A pair of familiar men arrived, dressed in Canadian uniforms.
"Lieutenant Huynh!" Kirche exclaimed as she recognized him and Corporal Brisebois. "You are here?"
"Lady von Zerbst," he greeted. "Our Battalion just arrived at the city outskirts." He explained before turning to Sgt. Gingras, "What do you have for me?"
The sergeant quickly explained what he had gotten from the locals. When he mentioned 'Lord-Protector', Huynh's eyes lit up. The 4th Battalion had been in Tristain long enough to hear from various sources that Albion was led by a man with such a title. He quickly ordered Brisebois to contact command and advise them of the situation before receiving his new orders.
"Brisebois, I want the platoon to secure the area around us. 100m perimeter around us where no one gets in or out without our say."
"Yes sir!" the radio operator said before he began transmitting. Huynh turned to Gingras.
"Have you been able to secure the ring this man used to… control minds?"
The sergeant nodded and produced a ring from his vest.
"Yes sir. Had to get it off the man's severed hand and clean it up a bit." he reported, "It needed it."
"I see."
"Excuse me Lieutenant," Kirche suddenly spoke up, "But that is the Ring of Andvari. We must return it to the Spirit of Lake Lagdorian."
Tabitha nodded while the officer looked at them skeptically.
"It was stolen from her." the bluenette explained monotonically, "We need to return it to her or else she will flood the land."
"Tabitha was tasked with a mission to stop the flooding and she must return this ring to the Spirit that lives there."
Huynh suppressed a groan. Even if the locals sounded desperate, it was more bullshit superstition in his mind. Maybe they told the truth. He was in a land with actual magic after all. In any case, he knew just the answer that would get him out of this. Hopefully.
"I'm afraid that this whole matter is something that only my superiors can decide on," he finally answered, "I will transmit your concerns to them for a final decision concerning this ring."
"But Lieutenant!" Kirche protested, "That ring must return to Lake Lagodorian!"
"Like I said, my superiors will decide of what to do with such a dangerous item," he said, "They'll look into this matter."
"Patience," Tabitha said quietly, calming down a protesting Kirche.
"Alright."
"A smart proposition milady," Huynh said before turning to the unconscious man.
"Which one of you is responsible for incapacitating this man?" the lieutenant asked seriously as he wanted more information as well as a confirmation. The two girls pointed to the blond teen.
"I am," Guiche answered, his voice surprisingly steely to him, "As your sergeant said, he was about to force these fair maidens into being his hostages."
The lieutenant grinned as he listened to the boy.
"Did you hear anything unusual when you were fighting him? Anything that can identify who this man is."
The blond teenager nodded.
"Yes, after I-I had struck him down, two men came forth and shouted 'how dare I strike down their Lord-Protector'." he explained, still vividly remembering his close brush with death.
"Lord Grammond, am I correct?"
Guiche nodded.
"I'll put in a good word for you. I have a feeling you did a lot of good today milord," Huynh said before Brisebois interrupted him.
"Command says a team'll come and pick up the VIP. ETA 5 minutes. They're real interested in this tabarnak."
"Wonderful," his leader said as he looked at the unconscious man. Very soon the sound of helicopters could be heard as one hovered above them. A special forces team fast-roped down and their leader had a brief discussion with Lieutenant Huynh about the current situation. He handed them the Ring of Andvari, explaining its powers. The team leader's nodded, his face wary of the ring as he secured it in his vest. The team then secured the unconscious VIP before they were hoisted back into the helicopter.
Guiche wondered briefly if those warriors were the same that he had met during the night before. There was the same aura of lethality around these men that even seemed to intimidate the lieutenant.
"You think that's really the guy in charge?" Brisebois asked his superior as the special force team left.
Huynh thought about it for a few seconds. It would be too convenient but plausible for such a thing.
"Maybe, maybe not. Back in the 1600's, it was common to see kings and emperors lead their armies personally while trusted people ran the show back home," he explained, his History courses coming back to the forefront of his mind, "Could just be a decoy though, like Queen Amidala and her servants in Episode I."
"Maybe we'll get a medal if he is!" One of the sergeants was clearly joking.
"Could be funny!" Since the VIP was out of here, they had to get moving again. 4th Battalion had orders to clear out the areas near the city center and open a corridor from the walls to the inner city. Once everyone else arrived, they'd be combing these streets for days looking for stragglers.
Gunshots and the clashing of metal echoed sporadically throughout the city once more as the North American troops as well as the relief force under the Grand Duke would encounter stubborn Albion troops that refused to back down. In the case of Lieutenant Huynh and his men, it took barely 15 minutes before they were guided around an Albion ambush.
"Bastards thought they could get the drop on us," he muttered as he and his men snuck into a ruined building. They ably navigated the building before exiting on the street. Nearing a corner, one of the lead infantryman did a hand gesture… The enemy was just around the corner and well down the street, but still unaware of their presence. They were still facing away from the Canadian platoon. More hand gestures before the Van Doos moved. Grenades were first thrown into the enemy's formation, their explosion taking their toll on the tightly backed men. Gunfire erupted from the nearby buildings as the other sections had taken position inside those buildings.
Helicopters still flew around, corralling the Albion forces into allied positions while special forces were moving in the ruins, looking for any enemy officer or mage to kill.
This lethal game of cat-and-mouse would continue throughout the day.
Louise had been sent to rest. Saito was with her and Hayate had been summoned to keep an eye on her. Henrietta had had to fall back on her position of ruler just to get the onlookers to disperse back to their posts. How far would news of a Void Mage spread before the day was over, she wondered? She'd know at the end of day.
Right now though, they still had to make sure the city would be safe at the end of the day.
Still, Henrietta was happy. Brimir had chosen to reward her for her faith in him and her kingdom's piety by giving her friend the powers of Void Magic. Without it, no doubt that they would been defeated before their allies could help.
Despite the victory, Henrietta was uncertain of the future. Many of her kingdom's soldiers were dead and there was probably a lot of destruction and devastation across the lands. Even if Cromwell had been captured, would Albion cease its hostility? If not, could Tristain still fight? What is Gallia of even Germania tried to take advantage of them despite their allies promises of help.
But worst of all she worried for the Church. This would certainly bring them to her court and her lands.
So many kinds of problems in such a short span of time… it had not even been a week since she became queen! How could Tristain overcome such things?
It was the early afternoon. The number of North American soldiers had swelled to over 6,000 now. A two mile zone had been verified as clear and safe around the Palace while a corridor from the outside was finally clear and was being slowly widened. Patrols would soon be going out to make sure the entire city was safe. They also searched for any injured civilians or soldiers that had been left behind in the fighting while still staying sharp for any hostiles. A few Albion soldiers had gotten lucky and managed to injure the Earth troops by jumping from a hidden place before being dispatched. A dozen soldiers had been injured that way with a few very severe cases.
And in the midst of this activity, a helicopter entered Tristania's airspace, although coming from the West instead of the East. On board was Agent Harper, handcuffed to a case carrying top secret documents. All of them contained information of Albion, but what was important at the moment was the long range photographs of Oliver Cromwell. He was being called in to verify an unconscious POW that might have been the Albion ruler.
As the Canadian lieutenant had thought, Lord-Protector was indeed to title of the man who'd led a revolution in Albion. The information had been passed all along the higher echelons, although no one on site had been able to confirm it. The Tristainians had been asked, but they didn't actually know what Cromwell looked like. Hadn't kept them from wanting to immediately kill the man suspected of being him though. So the matter had rapidly gone from military to intelligence. They asked the agents heading Earth's operation at the base if they had any resources that could confirm, and 15 minutes later they were on the way to the Capital.
The Blackhawk touched down in a cleared area of the Palace grounds. Harper hopped out along with a guard of two other agents. The CSIS agent had a lot on his plate. The report that Lady Vallière had been the one responsible for the destruction of the enemy's flagship confirmed what they'd been told but hoped wasn't the case. It was hard to believe but it happened. A matter to deal with later though. Right now, there was a far more important one.
Agnes was waiting for them as the CSIS personnel walked towards her, her face was always stoic.
"Agent Harper," she greeted professionally.
"Captain de Milan."
"I am to take you to the Palace's dungeon." she said as they began walking.
"Thank you very much," Harper replied, "Is he well guarded?"
Agnes nodded.
"He is guarded by my most loyal Musketeers as well as some of your special forces and agents," she reported, "He is kept in the deepest part of the Palace's dungeon."
"Splendid. Is he conscious yet?"
"No. His wounds were grievous. For such an wrinkly old bastard, he's somehow still alive." She added disdainfully. "He is missing his left forearm."
"How did that happen?" Harper asked as he began noting it down.
"From the reports of the men that brought him in, he attempted to use a magical ring to try and force his control over two mages in order to escape. Luckily, another was able to save them by cutting off part of the arm that held the ring." Agnes explained. The ring part caught Harper's attention.
"What of this ring?" he asked urgently as they entered the dungeon.
"It is kept under lock in the safest part of the Palace," Agnes continued, "For such an artifact to fall into the wrong hands could bring only catastrophe."
"I agree."
Through several hallways, gates and down several stairs, the party walked, finally reaching a collection of dark cells. Musketeers and men from JTF2 stood alert just in case if their 'guest' got a little too active. Harper and Agnes entered the cell. There was already another operator in there, guarding a medic.
"So, how's Sleeping Beauty here?" Harper asked nonchalantly.
"Out like a baby sir. We gave him something to slow his heart rate. Only way to reduce the blood loss for now. From the looks of it, man hasn't had a good night sleep for awhile either, judging by his face." the operator stated casually, "Luckily who ever took him down didn't mess it up."
The agent made a mental note to question the person responsible for this capture for anything he may have missed.
"He definitely looks like our guy." Harper could see the immediate similarities to the pictures they had on file. "Give us some light, please." He motioned to the operator who'd followed him in while he opened the case and took out the photographs. The body didn't even react to having a flashlight shined directly onto its face. Harper knelt down and looked between it and several photographs. He peeled back the eyelids to check the eye color. He carefully examined the sparse hair and every bald spot. He was meticulous in his comparisons. And finally, he stood up.
"Well… I'll be damned! It's our man alright!"
Trudeau was pacing impatiently in NDHQ's war room as he awaited the confirmation whether or not a Tristainian had actually captured the enemy's head of state on the field of battle. Hearing that their Capital had been saved, even if it involved some sort of unforeseen circumstance, was welcomed news. But if they'd captured the head of state of the hostile nation that had attacked the coronation and then invaded...this was a situation that required immediate and personal attention.
Meanwhile, Minister Sajjan was reading the latest reports. Tristainia was being cleared out while the countryside was still unsecured. Furthermore, it was confirmed that the explosion was a lucky fluke caused by a Tristainian mage.
"M. Prime Minister, we have confirmed the name of the mage that was responsible for that large scale explosion. Someone familiar to us." an aide reported.
"Please tell me," Trudeau asked politely.
"The one responsible is Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière. The girl that came to Earth with the Queen at the start of the year."
The prime minister resisted the urge to burst out laughing at fate's little games.
"Are we certain of this?" Trudeau asked, remembering how she was described as a poor mage and how she was nicknamed 'The Zero'. He found it deeply ironic already that a person who could summon explosions at will was deemed a failure. This just added to the irony that Louise de La Vallière.
"Many witnesses can confirm this, including Queen Henrietta herself," the aide continued. "Our forces on the ground are considering the girl as a walking WMD and reported that she's viewed as some sort of religious hero for them." Resolve one problem and another crops up.
"Let's just focus on their and our security right now."
A phone rang, one of many, and Trudeau thought nothing of it at first. Then he got the news from Minister Goodale: CSIS confirmed it was Oliver Cromwell that had been captured.
"Well… at least the war's going to end a lot faster now."
And Trudeau wagered that he would win the next elections at this rate!
Trump burst out laughing when he received the news about how the enemy flagship was destroyed. He was at the Pentagon with Mattis.
"This is wonderful news Jim!" Trump exclaimed, "You don't get battles that go this well on Earth! Queen Henrietta knows how to choose her friends!"
The sheer scale of defeat Albion had faced couldn't help but fill Trump with glee.
"Indeed M. President. If we can confirm that Oliver Cromwell has indeed been captured, it would make our day."
"Damn straight! It'll warn the rest of those wannabes in that world that the United States will not be pushed around."
Just then, the news came back from Halkegenia: Their people on the ground confirmed it- their prisoner was Oliver Cromwell. Trump let out a triumphant laugh.
He had upstaged every last administration! No one had won a war so fast, so decisively, and no one had captured the enemy's leader so quickly!
A single tweet appeared on Twitter and social media burst into celebration.
The news reached the Royal Palace's war room as well. There was much rejoicing by the gathered nobles.
"Well, what are waiting for?!" Count de Grandpré exclaimed, "Let us hang this man for his crimes against our lands and against the Tudors!"
The lord had finally recovered enough to be present. The gathered nobles and even Henrietta agreed. It was just retribution for a man who had dare commit blasphemy, regicide, usurpation and led an invasion of their lands after trying to murder their Queen.
Côté and Evans looked at each other with mutual concern. As much as they were wanting justice to be dealt to Cromwell for this whole mess, they had a different way of punishing the man, a way they were sure their superiors would've preferred. It would be a delicate thing to try and convince the Tristainians that the Albion leader should be tried for war crimes. No doubt that he was guilty, but they had their own way of doing things. The people of Earth needed some retribution for the Coronation attack.
"Might we suggest something?" Evans gambled.
"Yes Major Evans?"
"Wait before hanging him," the British officer suggested, before he was met with protest from those gathered.
"How can you ask us to wait?!" Duke Vallière shouted, "He needs to be punished for his actions!"
"It would be better to hang him once his armies have fully been defeated. He would truly be humiliated when he sees that all he tried is completely gone." Evans said calmly, "The Americans and my country did the same thing to a warlord named Saddam Hussein. We destroyed his entire army, captured his palace, killed off his sons on the battlefield before catching up with him. At the end, he was little more than a gutter rat hiding in a hole from our wrath."
It was a little more complex than that but Evans was running out of ideas.
"Not only that," Côté added, "But it would also be something that the people would want to witness after all their suffering."
It was a distasteful way to get the Tristainians to calm down long enough that the higher ups could get something set up. It might have been worth calling over the Ambassadors.
"Your idea has much sense, but only because it increases that foolish man's suffering." Lady Vallière finally said with others slowly agreeing with her.
"I agree," Henrietta added in, "Let us wait before punishing him."
Both men were internally relieved.
"Your Majesty, Milords and Milady, would it be possible to do a tally of your casualties?" Côté asked.
The mood had gotten far grimmer.
It had been about an hour since the news that Cromwell had been captured reached the command center at the Academy. With the news that the capital siege was broken, it brought more good news. However, General Carignan and the other senior officers still had much left on their plate.
"How much more time before your forces will be ready?" she asked a new face that just arrived a few minutes ago.
"One of my battalions has arrived in Montreal and is unloading," the American colonel reported. He was the commander of the 1st Cavalry's 2nd Brigade. "It should be through that portal in a few hours time."
"Very well. We need a heavier security presence around the portal," Carignan stated, "There's still reports of scattered resistance and according to the local forces there might be hostile movement from a different nation near the southern border. Once they're through, I want them deployed watching our southern flank."
"Understood general."
"Let's get some of the air assets out of here and to the airstrip at Clément-sur-Mer," Carignan ordered next, "They're taking up a lot of space here." Sixteen rotor wings had come through the portal overnight: four Apaches, two Chinooks, a pair of UH-72 Lakotas, and 8 more Canadian Griffons. They decided to send two of the Apaches and half the Griffons. The Lakotas were still needed here to scout for the stragglers around the portal. The Americans had captured around 50 or so, but they were still out there. But the helicopters they were sending could help hunt down the small bands of Albion troops in the countryside between the coast and Tristania.
Which brought them to the new pressing matter besides the Capital: those roving bands. They could not be left unchecked or else they'd plunder and loot the wartorn countryside. They'd already been informed about Tarbes. There was growing fears that other places had suffered the same fate as well. The mechanized force that had broken the siege of the base needed rest and resupply before they could move to save the town. A supply convoy was already en route, but it'd take time.
They were trying to find if there were any more small groups and the higher ups had already instructed them to help defend the borders in case another nation capitalized on the chaos. The drones and helicopters here at the Academy were already combing the nearby countryside, and the helicopters on the coast were looking on that end as well.
Both tasks would inevitably stretch them too thin though and it would take weeks or even months if too many had escaped the initial counterattacks and botched Albion assaults. The pre-war Tristainian Army hadn't even been able to cover all the land and borders, and the Earth force was smaller.
Just then, the tent flap opened, revealing a new group of officers. The Union Jack proudly stood out on their uniforms.
The British Forces had arrived and a round of proper military greetings was shared. The infantry battlegroup from British Army Training Unit Suffield was starting to arrive at Montréal–Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport and the officer detail had arrived in advance.
"First class on Yank Airlines." One of them joked about their fast arrival on a fleet of American C-130's.
"So glad that you could make so quickly," General Carignan said, "Did you receive the orders I sent in advance?"
"We'll assume security for the Academy and the portal as soon as we're through." The British Lieutenant-Colonel confirmed. Something else that had come to the officers from above (discreetly from the politicians) - don't put the British soldiers in mortal danger; it was bad for relations. It was something the Americans could relate to from the decade in Iraq. So instead the British would guard the area and free up the American and Canadian forces to do the heavy fighting. It was an arrangement that pleased everyone.
Little by little, the situation was improving.
In one of the Palace's private quarters, a pair of teenagers could be heard snoring as they rested after the long day's events. Despite it being only mid-afternoon, Saito and Louise had barely gotten any sleep in two days. On top of that, the fact that they had been running all over the place had tired them out. They were both in the same bed while another one had the couch. The older Hiraga sibling had been told by her Majesty herself to rest after he slipped out that he had been working non-stop for hours treating the casualties. Both siblings had a change of clothes. Despite his protests, Henrietta had pointed out to him that a tired healer was not helpful to his patients. As much as he hated to say it, he was barely standing and who was he to refuse the orders of a most charming monarch. That little remark caused the Queen to blush a bit before she excused herself.
Saito's eyes opened slowly as he groaned. He felt sore all over his body and felt something press against his chest. It was Louise who was still soundly asleep. The mage had drooled against his shirt and was mumbling incoherently. It was not an unpleasant feeling to have his girlfriend press against his body.
Saito gently patted his girlfriend's head while having a smile on his face. It felt good to kick back and relax after such a day. He heard yawning and turned to his brother.
"Yo afternoon little bro," Hayate said lazily as he stretched himself, "You sure look comfy."
Saito chuckled a bit.
"You know mom's gonna kill both of us if she ever sees us again?"
"Yeah, think she saw us on TV?" Saito suddenly asked, "We did tell her that we were going to the coronation afterall."
Both brothers groaned before snickering.
"Here's hoping dad managed to calm her down a bit." Hayate finally said, "Still can't believe we got caught up this mess though."
Saito looked at his brother guiltily. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he tried to talk.
"Hey Hayate?" he asked.
"Hmm?"
"I'm-I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess," Saito apologized, "If I hadn't-"
"Shut up Saito," his brother interrupted him before he could say anything stupid, "I don't think you planned on some crazy guy declaring a war. Besides, we're both still alive and well."
"Yeah, this is still crazy though," Saito said, thinking back to his meeting with the agents, "You're just a medical student while I ended up working with a queen without even finishing school! I wonder if this isn't going too fast. I wonder if I could have done better you know?"
His brother shook his head.
"Listen, I don't know what to say," he finally said, "But I think you're doing good Saito. You got a nice girl and you still helped both worlds get together. Not a lot of people your age can say they did that."
"S-s-aito," Louise suddenly muttered as her eyes opened, "Wha-what happened?"
She let out a yawn and sat up, finally freeing Saito to do the same.
"Well, you fainted after you destroyed that ship," Saito explained, "Everyone started gathering around you and praying to Brimir before her Majesty chased them off and had us sent here. Oh, and you drooled all over my clothes."
Louise flushed pink, matching her hair before rubbing her face.
"Yo-you dog! I do not drool!" she stammered, "What-what do you mean gathered around me?"
Her familiar/boyfriend snickered a bit.
"Well everyone was in awe of you," Saito finally recalled, "Like they saw a god or something."
"That can't be true," Louise argued, "I'm the Zero. There's no way I could have done that."
"Well you'd better start believing it!" Hayate exclaimed, "Cause from what I heard, you saved the Palace from that ship."
"You're a Void Mage, Louise." Saito said simply. "Just like Colbert and the Queen believed."
"But...I don't fully remember it." Louise muttered quietly.
"Void Magic can be triggered automatically in times of crisis." Derf spoke up from the wall. "And you won't recall it completely. It's a whole different thing to do it intentionally."
"Yeah. You did it after I got knocked in the head by rubble." Saito explained with a grin.
"Which didn't really hurt you at all." His brother pointed out. "But it sure as hell scared your girlfriend." Louise didn't even respond to that jab.
"Everyone was worried after you passed out. Your parents-,"
"My parents?!" Louise shrieked.
"Yeah, they came rushing up to make sure the Queen was alright but once they saw you it was the only thing they cared about. They seemed really proud when they heard you were a Void Mage."
This was all a LOT for Louise to take in. That she was really a Void Mage, that she'd apparently saved the Kingdom, that her parents were PROUD of her of all things...it was a lot to drop on a poor girl's head right after she woke up.
"What's going to happen now?" She wondered tiredly as she looked out the window.
"I have no idea." Saito shrugged casually. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. "But whatever does, I'm going to be right here with you."
"S-Saito…" Louise mumbled in embarrassment as he embraced her.
"I can leave if you guys want to have some time alone." Hayate interrupted teasingly the moment from across the room. Louise flushed red, muttered something along the lines of 'y-you dog' and threw one of her shoes at him.
As the sun was setting on Earth, two of Earth's leaders were once more discussing with each other along with parts of their cabinet. A video call had been arranged between the Prime Minister's office and the Oval Office.
"Good evening M. Trudeau! I take it that you've heard the good news." Trump said giddily, "This war's all but won."
Trudeau nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, we are winning this war but we need to think what needs to be done after the war," the Canadian said, "We both know that Tristain's been hit badly and that they want Cromwell hanged for his crimes. Without a proper trial."
Trudeau put special emphasis on those last words.
"Frankly, that man's already guilty," Trump retorted, "And it'll make those who wanted us to win happy. Trial'll only slow things down."
Trudeau shook his head. Letting the Tristainians hang Cromwell without due process, no matter how obviously guilty the man was, would make every party involved look bad in the eyes of the international community.
"The international backlash at the United Nations will not help us or the Tristainians," Trudeau insisted, "The last thing we both need is other countries wondering if we are sanctioning war crimes in another world. It would also play against us if we want to get help from our allies."
Trump seemed to be silent as he pondered Trudeau's argument.
"Not to mention the field day the media would have with this," the prime minister added, knowing Trump's bad relations with the press. His good ones were at stake as well…
"I see what you mean M. Trudeau," Trump finally realized, "So how do we go about this?"
Secretary Pompeo cleared his throat as an idea came into his head.
"We could sell it to them as being a way of completing Cromwell's humiliation? Explain that such a trial would be a way to paint him as a criminal rather than a conqueror." the Secretary of State suggested, "Not only that but we could try and convince them that giving him a trial would give them the moral high ground, that they are better than Albion."
At that moment, Minister Freeland decided to add in her opinion.
"It would also be a way to humiliate Albion's surviving leadership. Instead of being remembered as a religious crusader, Cromwell would be branded as a criminal. Anyone associating with him would not be helping their religion but working with a felon."
Both Trudeau and Trump could see the reasoning behind this.
"The main issue is if the Tristainians would answer to this logic." Trudeau remarked, "We also need to see who's in charge if Cromwell's gone. We still need an official peace treaty to put an end to this."
Trump groaned in his seat.
"Do we even know who's in charge in that place?" he grumbled, "For all we could know, it could be another nutcase."
"The country might plunge back into a civil war. If he set up the chain of command to have only him at the top, there might be a power struggle among his subordinates. " Mattis suggested. "Might even still be some loyalists to the old regime looking for revenge. It might prevent another invasion, but it's hardly a situation we want."
"Indeed Secretary Mattis," Minister Sajjan pointed out, "But we can't get too involved in Albion either. I doubt the public would want a medieval version of Iraq or Afghanistan."
Everyone in the conversation nodded in agreement.
"Not to mention that any intervention against Albion's home islands would have to be approved by Queen Henrietta and her government, since we'd be operating out of their lands." Freeland remarked while Pompeo agreed with her.
"Speaking of the Queen," Trudeau changed subjects, "We'll need get to get in contact with her soon. See how she's planning to act in the times to come."
Freeland's face was deep in concentration as she thought up of an idea.
"Perhaps we could hold talks in North America to decide how we go about this situation?"
"I'm not going back there after what happened." Trump interjected, the close call at the Coronation having rattled him.
"The feeling is mutual M. President. Besides, the countryside might not be safe for some time," Trudeau added politely, "Perhaps hold a conference in the United States?"
The Canadian Foreign Minister figured out her Prime Minister's decision. No doubt that Canada had already been host to many of the talks. It would be a way to give a bone to the Americans as well as reducing security costs.
Trump looked pensive before he answered.
"I like that idea. Perhaps New-York City could be a good place for this. It would awe them too," he finally answered.
"The United Nations are there as well," Pompeo added, "Perhaps we could arrange for them to visit?"
Everyone seemed to agree with the idea.
"We also need to discuss emergency aid to Tristain," Freeland said, "No doubt that this war has caused them a great deal of damage to their lands and cities."
"There are still reports of stragglers roaming the countryside," Mattis added, "We still haven't gotten the numbers yet. We also have unconfirmed reports of troop movements from the Gallians on their southern borders. It could mean anything if what they say about King Joseph is true."
"Not to mention that their armies are severely damaged and that their navy is all but gone," Sajjan continued, "That constitutes a major security issue for all of us if the Tristainians can't stand on their own."
"Speaking of security issues, we also have Lady Vallière's powers that must be discussed," Trudeau added, "If she can truly turn a battle that way, not doubt that every other nation in Halkeginia would do everything in their power to get their hands on her."
"The religious implications surrounding her powers' manifestations also have to be taken into account," Minister Freeland stated, "Apparently, the Tristainians started worshipping her as if she was a holy savior."
All the gathered politicians felt the urge to massage their temples. This was another delicate matter that they had to face given how religious their allies was. One wrong move could hamper their diplomatic efforts.
"Well, we got a lot of issues to deal with," Trump finally said, "Far too many for this evening alone."
"Agreed," Trudeau answered, "At the very least, we must contact Queen Henrietta right away to congratulate her for her efforts"
"Your Majesty. We have received word that the ambassadors wish to discuss with you," Agnes reported to Henrietta and the other Tristainian commanders, "It appears that Prime Minister Trudeau and President Trump wish to speak to you as soon as possible."
The war room was still full despite the early evening. Food had been brought up from the Palace kitchens as the occupants still had a long night before them
"No doubt that they wish to celebrate our victory on this day," General du Poitier said while the others agreed.
"It appears to be the case General du Poitier," Agnes said, "They wish to invite the leaders of the armies that have defended Tristainia to come and discuss as well."
"Tell them that we will meet them in my personal study," Henrietta said as they left the war room for her office. As they walked through the hallways, they could hear the agony of wounded civilians and soldiers. The grim expression on Henrietta's face hid her pain and heartache that she had for her suffering people. Was it a test of character from the Founder?
Finally, they arrived in her private study. It was a large white room with handcrafted furniture and luxurious carpets. The moonlight from the twin moons mixed with the candles to light up the room. The quiet elegance clashed with the shattered, smoking buildings in the city outside. The door opened, revealing Agnes and the two North American ambassadors. Behind them were some of their security details.
"Good evening your Majesty," Ambroise said soberly as they entered the room, "I hope that you are doing well."
Both men had serious looks on their face.
"I thank you for your concern Ambassador Ambroise," Henrietta replied, "The past days have been quite taxing."
"Indeed," Fitzgerald said simply, "May I install my computer here?"
Henrietta nodded as he set the computer on her desk before opening up the video call. The familiar faces of President Trump and Prime Minister Trudeau appeared on screen.
"Good evening Queen Henrietta," Trudeau said gently, "On behalf of the Canadian people, I send you our condolences for your losses."
"The American people stand by you," Trump declared, "And are proud to stand alongside the brave people of Tristain. That's was a fine display of courage your Majesty."
"Thank you, M. Trump, M. Trudeau," Henrietta answered, "Your words are well received in these trying times."
The nobles approved.
"I must say this though," Trump continued, "I am impressed at your people's tenacity in holding off that maniac Cromwell's attack."
"We would not be speaking had it not been for the courage of the Tristainian people," Trudeau added, "But we are not just here to congratulate you for your efforts in winning this battle."
"Oh?"
"We are also here to discuss how this war is going to end," Trump stated in no uncertain terms, "Honestly, your Majesty, there's a lot that needs to be discussed."
"Indeed," Trudeau added, "There are a considerable amount of issues that we need to face together."
Henrietta nodded in agreement.
"Let us start immediately then," she said seriously, "So that we can resolve them."
Both North American leaders shook their heads.
"We believe that this requires a proper meeting," Trudeau said, "And days of discussions."
"What do you mean?" Henrietta asked surprised, "Can we not discuss right now?"
"No, I am proposing that you and a delegation come to talks on Earth," Trump said, "Because this will require hard work."
The nobles tensed up. Were their allies going to demand payment for their presence?
"Of course, we'll delay any such meeting until your lands are fully reclaimed, your Majesty." Trudeau clarified, "Your presence is still needed in Tristain for your people. No doubt that you have become a hero to them because of your actions and defiance of Cromwell's assaults."
Lord Vallière cleared his throat suddenly, not liking the politeness and what seemed to be sugarcoating.
"Excuse me but may I ask you a question?"
Trudeau looked at him.
"Yes?"
"Are you going to demand tribute or payment for your armies?"
Trump almost burst out laughing before he shook his head.
"Excuse me but the United States is more than rich enough to finance its own army," the American president boasted proudly, "We don't need your money!"
"We do not need repayment for this," Trudeau said more tactfully, "We need to discuss in detail how can we help you rebuild your lands as well as how to end this conflict with Albion. That of course are but two of the many issues that needed to be resolved. At a later date though." He repeated.
As much as they hated to say it, the man was right. The countryside was still unsafe and the capital was in ruins. There was also many wounded, dying or dead inside the capital and it would take a lot of efforts to help all these people. No doubt that the countryside suffered similarly.
"Our forces will be able provide some immediate humanitarian assistance," the Canadian Prime Minister continued, "My commanders will be ready to work with yours to coordinate the efforts."
"What can your forces offer us in terms of help?" Marshall Grammond asked.
"We can set up efforts to distribute emergency rations of food and water to the people in the capital," Trump explained, "The US military has more than food enough to go around."
The gathered nobles' eyes narrowed at the man's bragging tone. It was irritating and was reminiscent of the Germanians' condescending ways.
"We can easily cooperate with the Tristainian armies to hand out aid. In addition, our medical personnel will also continue their efforts," Trudeau added more politely, "And specialized emergency teams are going to be sent."
"It would help reduce strain on the Water Mage healers," Henrietta said grimly, "Many are exhausted from…"
Trudeau and Trump nodded.
"We understand. There is still one matter left for us to discuss your Majesty, something we feel can't wait: the fate of Oliver Cromwell." Trudeau said seriously, "No doubt that your people have suffered greatly because of his actions but so have ours. The Canadian and American people want justice for the Coronation attack as well."
"Damn right!" Trump exclaimed, "But we want him to be punished properly. We need him alive for now and we would like to talk about how he's going to pay at the conference." It was a 180 from his earlier position. But if this was how things had to be, they weren't going to skimp out on it.
The Tristainians tensed up. Just who did this man think he was? Even Henrietta couldn't help but feel that Trump was being too demanding.
"Must I remind you that my kingdom has suffered the most out of those gathered here?" Henrietta asked firmly, "I understand that your people want retribution for those who have suffered during the Coronation but countless scores of mine lay dead or injured all across my lands because of Cromwell's heretical ways."
The queen had a good point.
"We understand your Majesty," Trudeau said diplomatically, "But our people have means of punishment that yours may not have thought of. No doubt that discussing them once the battles have ceased will allow us to proceed forward with cool heads."
The Tristainians wondered just what kind of punishment these people had. Fouquet had disappeared without a trace and it seemed that Earth had forgotten her very existence.
"I have but one question that I wish to address that I also feel cannot wait," Henrietta finally said, "What of the treatment that your secret services have inflicted on my dear friend, Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière and her familiar, Hiraga Saito?"
Both North American leaders were surprised… while Lord and Lady Vallière began to fume. The ambassadors were both mentally preparing a defense.
"What do you mean your Majesty?" Lady Vallière asked, her voice cold and threatening, "What is the meaning of this?" she looked at the screen and at the ambassadors.
"I'd like to know that as well." Trump's confusion was genuine.
"Your agents acted, without your permission or knowledge your ambassadors told me, to question and intimidate my dear friends." Henrietta explained, with special emphasis on the last three words. "They knew she was a Void Mage and withheld that information from us." There was an outbreak of scandalized murmuring from the gathered nobility.
"Probably." Trump didn't refute the claim. "We'll look into it." He passed the matter with surprising casualness as if he was discussing about the weather.
"We shall do the same on our side," Trudeau added politely, "No doubt that this has been a terrible error in judgement. I shall discuss this with Minister Goodale."
It was a little too fast and friendly for the Tristainians' liking and blindsided them. At the same time, it seemed a little too good to be true.
"Pardon me if I have trouble believing your words," Lord Vallière said dryly, "Your agents threatened my youngest daughter and her familiar."
"We don't know if that's true." Trump said pointedly. "But we will find out."
"I assure you that this situation will be properly and promptly resolved," Trudeau promised.
Lord Vallière still had a look of disbelief as his face narrowed.
"I hope so!"
"I believe that we have said all that has been needed to be said," Henrietta stated sternly, "I suggest that we retire for this evening. Her two counterparts agreed. The video call ended, and the Tristainians returned to mending their damaged kingdom. On Earth, the US and Canada continued to communicate.
At Clément-sur-Mer, things were busy. Prisoners were still being secured and treated. High ranking prisoners were being isolated specifically. Extra steps were being taken to guarantee the safety of the base and all personnel despite the fact the armed threat had surrendered.
Devers was getting ready to have a one-on-one with the officer who'd surrendered his force to them. Just a few basic questions, probe on any wider military maneuvers. But while his conversation partner was stewing, he got an abrupt summon to the Colonel's office.
As he entered, Colonel Hamilton gestured him to sit and handed him the phone without a word but eyes that quite clearly said "You've fucked up.". Devers' eyes widened once he heard the voice asking if it was him.
"M. President! Sir! Yes, you are talking to the head of operations in Halkegenia!"he said quickly, "What is happening sir?"
"I have heard that you have done a little investigation on Lady Vallière and M. Hiraga. Do you mind telling us why you suppressed reports on a possible WMD?" The Commander-in-Chief asked. "And why you questioned two high ranking members of a friendly government? Our allies are pissed off."
Devers exhaled through his nose. He'd gotten the message too about a Void Mage saving the day and he'd known just from the description who it was.
"Yes sir." He confirmed. And so the CIA agent had to spend the next half hour explaining everything. Colonel Hamilton had left to handle other matters. Back on Earth, the call was on speaker so the Canadian leadership could listen in.
There was immediate interest in the runes that sparked the intelligence service's initial curiosity before the Void revelation derailed it. "It was not our original intention, sir." He explained. "There were concerns that boy could pose a threat. If I may, I think it's safe to say both of them pose a hazard now." Ultimately, they hadn't decided to send this further up the chain because there wasn't any evidence to confirm it yet and the stir it would cause, especially if it was false, would hurt their efforts and relations in the region. False or irrelevant information was commonplace, and it their job to sort it from what was important. Devers made sure to convey that. It had been Harper and his' call, and it had been the wrong one. That happened in this business sometimes.
The mood on the political side was more subdued now. The intelligence services' motives were clearer now, but it didn't make the situation any less of a clusterfuck.
"And I thought they were just some annoying tagalongs all those months ago." Trump remarked to no one in particular. Those kids had sat at the same table as two heads of state, and apparently they could've killed them in an instant too.
"The Ambassadors mentioned something about her family being a cadet branch to the throne. You know anything about that?" Trump asked next. The agent had certainly not picked that up.
"I'm afraid we did not know that," Devers said as he realized the implications. No doubt that it was a family secret between the ruling house and the Vallières; there were some things you just couldn't pick up. That was something that made the clusterfuck even worst.
"Well, we'll have to smooth that over with her Majesty," Trump continued, "If you're our best man over there, then get something together to tell us exactly how much of a problem these two kids are going to be to us." To him at least, this didn't seem like a deliberate snub. Seemed perfectly justified, even.
"Of course, M. President." Devers answered, wondering if he'd escaped an ass chewing from the highest power. There was still Langley, and he had no idea what Harper was going to face, but they both had cleared from the very top. The was mercifully cut loose after that.
And despite that shake up of a conversation, he still appeared cool and collected only 10 minutes later to discuss with their new prisoner about Albion
The call to Halkegenia disconnected, the two heads of state resumed their talks. This information, which would later be corroborated by Agent Harper, pointed to not only a security situation, but a disturbing future for North American-Halkagenian relations beyond this war. Religious fervor besides Cromwell's would have to be taken into account.
What they knew about Romalia and the Church was limited but reminded them ominously of the Catholic Church in its most powerful hours. Not that they feared direct power; Earth had just proven its might against one of the most touted militaries in that world. But this was an institution that had the power to potentially turn the population against them. They had to tread very carefully in the times to come.
Cleaning up this invasion and securing peace with Albion was still the #1 goal in that world right now, but secondary preparations were quietly set underway for this anticipated meeting.
The midday sun shone brightly in the skies above Tristainia the next day. Its warmth was one that was welcomed by those who labored in the city. The new day, the first without any fighting, already seemed far more pleasant then that one before. Troops and civilians were working hard as they could to clear out debris in the secured portions. Convoys arrived regularly with supplies and personnel of all kind. Canada had sent its elite 200-men strong Disaster Assistance Response Team to help with the efforts under Operation Tranquility. Special efforts were being made to remove bodies as no one wanted an epidemic to grip the city in the weeks or months to come.
Searches throughout the evening and night had rounded up nearly all of Albion's remaining soldiers in the city and 85% of the city was in their hands. Most had surrendered, only a few had fought, and many had been caught trying to sneak back out through the walls. 45,000 men had attacked this city by the prisoners' own accounts. 2/3rds of them were dead, most killed in the last frantic stages of the battle. Just over 2,000 were able-bodied prisoners. The other thousands were wounded prisoners, clogging up hospitals on the outskirts of Tristania and near its center.
Many efforts had been done to integrate the Tristainian troops into the relief efforts; the higher ups wanting to make sure that the locals could see that their leaders cared. They did not want a governmental collapse or an uprising because of this war.
In a part of these efforts, a teenage blond boy was taking a break from clearing debris. Guiche wiped the sweat off his brow as he sat on debris. He and other men from his family's army were working with American soldiers from the 10th Mountain.
Guiche looked around as he drank from a water canteen that had been lent to him before giving some to Verdandi, the mole-like familiar peering out of the ground near him. Despite all the lives he taken to avenge his mother, he felt hollow. He wondered how would he go back to his normal life. His brush with death haunted him. The past night he awoke in a cold sweat, still seeing the sword that had almost claimed his life.
Guilt also haunted him. How many of his men could have lived had he made better decisions? They haunted his sleep as well. Most of his original unit had died fighting under his orders.
"Hey? You ok there son?"
It snapped Guiche out of his reverie.
"Yes, I am merely resting Lieutenant Trombley," he answered, "The battle was demanding on my magic and my body."
The answer seemed to satisfy the American.
"Alright, don't forget to tell your men that we gonna have lunch soon ok?"
Guiche nodded before quickly passing the word to his men. Once it was lunch, the group of American and Tristainian soldiers made their way to the nearest field canteen. They could see other groups returning to work or working as they walked. As they arrived, Guiche heard a voice call out to him.
"Hey Guiche!" Malicorne shouted as he made his way over, a half-eaten sandwich in his hands, "How are you doing?"
"I am fine Malicorne," he said neutrally, "And you my friend?"
The boy nodded as he stuffed another bite in his mouth.
"I'm fine," he said as he swallowed his food, "Feels good to be on a break."
The two friends had found each other during the past day as the Tristainians tallied their remaining forces. Malicorne had survived just as Guiche had, although facing far less bloodshed. They enjoyed each other's company before they overheard a conversation between American soldiers.
"No way, that ship was really called Lexington?" one said in disbelief. He was a short, dark skinned man.
"Yeah, I heard from some of the Frenchies when I was having lunch with yesterday," Lieutenant Trombley said as he puffed on his cigarette, "Told me that they were the ones that guarded the read end of it and they saw the name painted it on it."
"Any idea why they called it the Lexington?"
"Nah fam, no idea."
Guiche cleared his throat, their discussion being intriguing.
"Excuse me but why is that ship's name important to you?"
Both men looked at each other before Trombley answered.
"Well you see, the first battle that led to our country being born was at a place named Lexington. It was where the first shot was fired. It was also one of our first victories so it's important to our history," the American explained before his friend picked up the explanation.
"We also named a few of our greatest warships after that battle. Shame those assholes did the same."
Guiche was left speechless at the strange coincidence.
"Anyhow… what's your name?" Trombley asked casually as he looked at Malicorne, "Haven't met you before."
A quick series of introduction was made as the other American was a Lieutenant called Ronald Wyatt.
"So how old are you guy anyways?" Wyatt asked in curiosity.
"Me and Malicorne are both 16 years old," Guiche answered, causing Wyatt to raise an eyebrow.
"You're joking right?" the American was surprised. He knew that the Tristainians had it bad but sending out kids?
"No, we do not jest," Malicorne stammered out, "We are both 16 years old. Our fathers are leaders of two of Tristain's armies and so they gave us each a unit to command."
"Is it not common in your world?" Guiche asked curiously.
"Not at all," Wyatt answered bluntly, "At your age, I was worried if a girl would go to prom with me. Not leading troops around in a war."
"Prom?"
The Tristainians never heard such a term.
"A dance to celebrate the fact that you finished school," Trombley explained, "Every guy would try and invite the girl he liked to dance with him."
Guiche's mind couldn't help but wander to Montmorency. Had she left the Academy for home or had she stayed there? He'd left before he could find out. He hoped that she had stayed safe. An innocent lady like her should not have been exposed to the horrors of war, the domain of men.
"You ok there milord?" Trombley asked, "You kind of zoned out there."
The teen nodded.
"Yes, I was merely thinking about something."
"A girl?" Wyatt asked curiously, stunning Guiche who looked at him in surprise. "You got that same face that my guys do when they think about theirs."
"Oh?" He hadn't expected that he was that easy to read.
"Got a girl Malicorne?" Trombley asked, glancing at the other boy who blushed in embarrassment.
"O-oh not really," he muttered, "Guiche is better with girls than me. He's courting one right now, we-well before all this happened."
Guiche couldn't tell if Montmorency was his lover, given how rocky their relationship was. She did comfort him was his mother was struck down but he wondered if she still felt something for him after his little dates with other girls. Not to mention the love potion incident.
"That so? What's her name?"
"Her name is Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency the Fragrance," he finally said after a few moments, "She is a fair maiden that studies at the Academy with me."
"What she like?" Wyatt asked before Guiche described her. In turn, the Americans described their girlfriends. No matter the world, it seemed that some things, such as love, never changed in the lifes of fighting men.
They were soon out of time and returned to their arduous task.
Over the next five days, Tristain would recover faster than it had ever anticipated. Shelters were set up within the Capital and rebuilding started faster than any would've imagined. The bands of Albion troops that haunted the countryside were ruthlessly hunted down by outworlder airships. Tarbes was finally liberated by Canadian mechanized forces, who discovered part of the village's civilian population hiding in the nearby woods. However, the town was gone, burned out buildings the only proof that it was once a vibrant place. What reconnaissance had witnessed a few days ago was confirmed. A mass grave, reminiscent of those in the Balkans in the 1990's, had been found while the burned out church had been filled with bodies as well. Many of the survivors wept openly as they saw what calamity had fallen on their home while the Canadians had trouble keeping their eyes dry as they helped as best they could.
The ring was also returned over that five days. After a few rounds of questioning and discussion which the Queen and other officials, it was agreed it was in the country's best interests to return the magical item. Security issues were heavily discussed, as such a potent relic could not fall into the wrong hands once more. But ultimately they decided a Water Spirit was both someone who's abilities to trust and not to upset. It was shutting out another debate over a potential super weapon, but this was removing it from the equation. There was too much to deal with and one less problem was good for everyone, although the intelligence agencies made a note to return to the subject of the ring and the Water Spirit later.
A flight was secretly arranged to Lagdorian Lake on the country's southern border. Saito, Louise, Kirche, Tabitha, and Montmorency were among the small party. Colbert attended as well as a magical authority. In full view of a security detail including Agent Devers, Saito returned the Ring of Andvari to the Water Spirit as he'd promised. It was a surprisingly simple affair for the magnitude behind what had set it up. The spirit merely appeared, took the ring and bid them (although specifically referring to Saito as 'Gandalfr') farewell before disappearing into the murky waters.
On the same southern border, Gallia's troops and lords with border holdings were stunned by the appearance as massive metal wagons on the Tristainian side that seemed to congregate opposite of Gallia's own troop movements. The northern shore of Lagdorian Lake soon became accustomed to the sight of Bradley IFVs and Abrams tanks, although few of the locals or even the troops themselves understood why.
Four days after the Battle of Tristainia, a Germanian envoy arrived to give the Emperor's congratulations on their 'glorious triumph over the heretical legions of Albion.' It was something that many nobles viewed as little more than insincere politeness. Many quietly believed that the young Germanian Emperor was fuming that he could not have taken over Tristain once his armies had crushed Cromwell's.
News of the defeat was suppressed in Albion, so no one was reacting yet. They were all going about their lives, waiting in anticipation for the day the Lord-Protector would return to proudly proclaim their dominance over Tristain and the beginning of the unification of the Blessed Realms on the continent. It had been nearly a week that he had left, so anticipation was at its highest. It would be only a few hours, maybe another day or so that the Lord-Protector would return with news of victory.
But they got instead was something terrifying and beyond their comprehension.
No one in the port cities understood why one morning thick plumes of yellow smoke began to rise from the nearby docks. They gathered in crowds to look at the strange sight and watch the town guards converging towards them. The town guards had not realized that some of their number had gone missing during the night.
And then they witnessed massive explosions burst seemingly from those same yellow plumes. The explosions shattered the docks and what few warships remained in Albion were destroyed in one savage blow. Fires raged uncontrollably as the powerful magic lit the wooden buildings with ease. Secondary detonations could be heard as powder stores were set ablaze. Most were too afraid to go put out the flames. Many fled the towns expecting the same thing to happen to their homes.
Even the educated and the nobility had no idea what had just happened. Those who weren't baffled were afraid they'd wrought some sort of divine punishment.
The truth was much more mundane: US F-16s and Canadian CF-18s making bombing runs. With the total might of the 2nd Canadian Division and two American brigades through the portal, the jets had finally gotten wheeled through and taken to the airstrip. At Clément-sur-Mer, Henrietta and many of the high-ranking nobles present during the capital battles had been invited to watch their allies avenge the people of Tristain.
The grainier camera feed on the jets seemed to them a step below the other technology they'd seen from their allies, but they could still discern what it showed: Over half of Albion's ports being destroyed by almost righteous fire. It was an unnerving fact to the Tristainians that they were allied with such powers. How could they get they negotiate anything favorable at the victors' table when Albion would be finally defeated?
"Awesome." Saito breathed with a grin. Louise and him were part of the group, now undebatable members of Henrietta's entourage no matter what the people from Earth thought.
"Our leaders wanted to make it very clear to you that Albion won't be allowed to strike again." Colonel Hamilton stated clearly, "We've destroyed any ability they have to reach your lands. You'll be at peace for the foreseeable future."
"Thank you Colonel," Henrietta said, "We are grateful for your nations' help."
"Will these...airships be staying at this base?" Du Poitier asked. He'd thought their smaller airships were amazing, but these were something else entirely.
"They'll be stationed here for the foreseeable future, most likely until peace is achieved," the American explained, "They will serve as a deterrent against Albion and will conduct raids as needed."
As needed depended on what the intel guys dug up. They were scrambling all over the country to find out what was going to happen once word got out Cromwell was a prisoner as well as finding out who has in charge now. Either the country would descend into chaos...or it'd renew its anger against Tristain in order to rescue their savior. Laser guided bombs would go wherever needed.
"We understand." Henrietta nodded. "Thank you for showing this to us, Colonel. Keep us informed. We must be returning to Tristania now." There was still work to be done there. She trusted her allies' discretion on this matter.
"Of course, your Majesty, Milords and Milady. Have a safe journey."
South of Gallia was the Ausonian Peninsula, the domain of the Holy Romalian Empire. An empire of wealthy trading ports, expansive farms, and magnificent architecture. But its capital, the pentagon-like city of Romalia was also the center of the Brimiric fatih, which made Romalia not exactly an empire in the same vein as Germania, or even a country in the same was as the other three Blessed Realms.
Religion was more deeply ingrained in everything here, and the clergy often had as much if not more power than the nobles who held realms. Symbols of the Brimiric faith could be seen everywhere. The pious wore them on their clothes while many buildings had them as ornaments. The churches stood proudly, their white walls and towers shining in the warm sunlight of the Ausonian Peninsula while the clear blue waters of its waterways gave splendour to the great capital.
At its center was the greatest symbol of the Brimiric faith: the Great Cathedral of Romalia. No building in Halkeginia could match its size. It was from this gold and white building that the popes of Romalia guided their faithful and ruled over their faith. It served as the home of Pope Vittorio Serevare, Saint-Aegis the 32nd and the Shield of the Founder. Within its great walls was not only rows upon rows of pews but also private quarters in which the various cardinals attended to daily matters.
It was in one of these quarters that two young men met. One was garbed in elaborate red and white clothes with a purple cape over it. His well kept, long blonde hair was covered by a purple and gold mitre.
"Julio, I have summoned you for a matter of great urgency," Pope Vittorio said gravely to a kneeling man who was dressed in white and blue knightley clothing.
"I am yours to command your Eminence," Julio Chesaré answered.
"We have received word from Tristain that they and their allies from the other world have defeated Cromwell's heresy on the field of battle," the pope explained.
The other world and the portal was discussed in hushed tones amongst the Papacy. The reports, notably from Cardinal Mazarin, and rumours were almost fantastical to say the least. They spoke of kingless lands and people with no magic yet great constructs that could put everything in Halkegenia to shame. Muskets, wagons, and airships of greater construct than any other nation. People with their own religion that was not the Founder's. Many feared that these people would challenge the Brimiric Faith with their own teachings.
That fear had divided the rulers of Romalia. Some wanted to intervene and denounce these potential blasphemers while others, including Pope Vittorio himself, chose to wait and see just what these new entities would do. Nearly a whole year had passed, and all they saw was Tristain flourishing. But now Cromwell's forces were defeated by their hands, an event that asserted much about their presence. The time to watch and listen had ended. Now it was time to act.
"Your Eminence wishes me to establish contact with these people?" Julio asked, his heterochromatic eyes narrowing.
"It is not merely that," the pope explained, "There are rumours that a Void Mage has been responsible for victory."
Julio was shocked as he let out a gasp.
"A Void Mage, your Eminence?"
"Yes. Bring that mage to me with any means possible," the pope ordered, "It will not be your only task however, Julio. We will need to know what kind of people the Tristainians have allied with. You will investigate these people and their ways as well any signs of heresy in Tristain. "
Pope Vittorio's face hardened. He could not risk having a Blessed Realm swayed by other entities than him. But there was also another question that intrigued him.
"There is a chance that these people are from the world where our Founder grants us his gifts. I wish to confirm if this true."
Authors' endnote: Hmm things are getting interesting eh? Wait till next chapter! As always… please read and review!
