A Symbiotic Imperative

“Your potential is truly limitless,” the King of Draynes remarked, a hint of surprise in his voice. “I confess, I am somewhat taken aback.”

“Should I then feel honored, if your words hold true?” the nun inquired. The King merely shook his head.

“Had anyone else come to me with such propositions—be it Bishop Rhys Delvos or another—I might have lent an ear, but I would never have altered my course. The Church, you see, must be suppressed; it is a necessity for the burgeoning realm of Draynes. Furthermore, they no longer possess the standing to challenge me, leaving no room for negotiation. Yet now, you stand before me, embodying the Church’s might. You have displayed such power openly, before all, and this signals that the Church intends to reclaim its voice within Draynes. Should you persist as its emblem, you will force my hand, compelling me to coexist with the Church even as I coexist with the Transmigrators’ Council. Understand this, then: your actions are nothing short of blackmail.”

“I harbor no desire to threaten anyone, yet I am bound to champion the rights of the group I have chosen to represent.”

“That may be true, but I must also assert that whatever the Church can offer you, I, too, can provide,” the King declared. “The Papacy has crumbled, its adherents plunged into despair, and the great powers are fractured. Do you truly believe that you alone can reunite a Church that has been stripped of most of its strength? You may see countless opportunities, but the age has shifted. The Church belongs to the past, buried beneath its ruins. A new era demands new doctrines, forged by new individuals. Join me. Become our nation’s Holy Mage, and together, Draynes shall reshape the very fabric of this world. Consider this my final invitation.”

“…And if I were to still refuse?” Anto pressed, her gaze unwavering. The King met her eyes for a moment, then slowly closed his own.

“Then I can only express my deepest regret. It is simply untenable for the Church to wield such a potent card against my kingdom. Before the border crisis spirals completely out of control, I will deploy military might to dismantle the Church, thereafter seeking out an individual to found a new one, which I shall then elevate as my state religion.”

“Yet, by taking such a path, you will only alienate those who once championed the Church, rendering it impossible for them to ever embrace your vision. The dwindling numbers of Holy Light wielders will persist as your most formidable challenge.”

“Which is precisely why I need you,” the King countered. “I desire you to serve as our nation’s Holy Mage, to preside over the formation of a new Holy Light Legion. In exchange, I shall preserve the existing Church, furnishing them with provisions, offering them aid, and even granting them the liberty to spread their faith. But I require you, Antolia. I demand your unwavering loyalty to me.”

“In what manner would this loyalty be expressed?” Antolia probed, her gaze fixed on the King as he finally spoke.

“I have both a son and a daughter. My son, Prince Iliran, is seventeen this year and remains unwed. Should you agree to become his wife, and consecrate your vows here, I am prepared to offer the Church my full support in return.”

“An exchange? Through such a means?” Antolia murmured, her voice laced with disbelief. “It appears His Majesty views me as nothing more than a pawn.”

“To me, you are, at this moment, nothing less than a card played by the Church,” the King stated matter-of-factly. “I cannot, under any circumstances, permit such a figure to arise within the Church and jeopardize my family’s reign, unless I can hold sway over you. I believe my intentions have been made abundantly clear, and I have already offered a significant concession. Sister Antolia, I trust you are a woman of both intellect and courage, and I sincerely hope you will arrive at the most judicious decision.”

“I believe I will,” Anto replied, her gaze drifting towards the world outside the window. “Your Majesty, it seems you present me with but two paths: either to depart, or to exist within your kingdom as an extension of your own power. Is it your assertion, then, that the Church possesses neither the right to negotiate with you, nor the right to stand against you?”

“Do you perceive an issue with that?”

“No, it is merely that I perceive, Your Majesty, an excess of confidence and an overwhelming assertiveness, which I believe to be less than prudent,” Sister Antolia replied, turning to face him fully. “Your Majesty, the kingdom requires the Church, just as the Church requires the kingdom. Ours is a relationship of mutual coexistence, a symbiosis that can never devolve into one of mere dependence. This is the unyielding bedrock of the Church’s principles. While it may appear simple for the King to dismantle the Church, such an action would, in truth, drive you down a perilous path. Without Holy Light wielders, the Legion of the Undead at the border would effortlessly overrun countless outer villages. The Transmigrators’ Council would not remain indifferent, but their strategy would be to fortify Lindes, leaving the kingdom to forfeit vast tracts of external territory and fertile farmlands. While Draynes might eventually reclaim these lands, what value do territories hold if they cannot be defended in the long term? In the wake of the Church’s expulsion, your proposed new religion would likely take eight to ten years to train its first contingent of formidable border Holy Light warriors. Do you truly believe, Your Majesty, that during this lengthy void—a period marked by the Church’s complete opposition, the Transmigrators’ Council’s extensive garrisons, and the simultaneous drain on national resources—Draynes could possibly sustain its current stability? Consider the burgeoning refugee crisis, the immense strain on resources, and the increasingly barren lands. Your Majesty, the border is already perilously fragile. To speak plainly, you are in no position to dictate terms for such cooperation. The border could erupt into a new war at any moment, and Draynes is utterly reliant on the protection afforded by Holy Light wielders. We must either stand united as comrades against this looming threat, or we must separate and witness our mutual downfall. We, the Church, can, of course, be driven out, stripped of our last sanctuaries and our final vestiges of status, much like the original apostles centuries ago, who traversed mountains and rivers to spread the gospel. But what then of you, my esteemed King? Where will your people find refuge?”

“I refuse to be treated as a mere bargaining chip, to be exchanged. My fervent hope is for the kingdom and the Church to rekindle their former relationship. The Church will not stand idly by as the border crisis unfolds. Bishop Rhys Delvos is already diligently reaching out to every accessible church along the border, while also drafting letters to invite monks from other dioceses to lend their aid. Our convents, too, are preparing to dispatch nun medical teams to the border outposts to stabilize the situation. In return, these monks will require provisions and compensation, precisely as previously discussed and to be supplied by the kingdom.”

“You are well aware that I will never consent to such terms.”

“But you *must* agree,” Antolia interjected, her voice sharp with conviction. “You need us. While you may possess the means to suppress us in various ways, what is rightfully ours must still be rendered unto us. The Church, for its part, will not dwell on these matters, for we are resolute in fulfilling our duties. The threat of the Demon King has not yet fully receded, yet we find ourselves engaged in mutual hostility here—a profoundly ironic state of affairs. For…”

“We will not merely accept a reasonable request; we will act according to what is righteous. While Your Majesty may hold your own convictions, we, too, stand firm in our principles. The destiny of the kingdom and the destiny of the Church are inextricably linked, bound together on the same vessel. We shall either coexist, or we shall perish together. No matter how unyielding you may be, Your Majesty, this truth remains immutable, for such is the stark reality.”