Chapter 69. The Fassari Summit (Patreon)

Euryphel returned with two glasses in one hand and a handle of the Selejan whiskey in the other. He poured a bit into the two ice-filled glasses and passed one to Ian before sitting atop an antique wooden bureau.

"So, to begin: the Fassari Summit, as you can probably guess by its name, is held in Fassar. It's essentially..." the prince paused, considering his words. “You’ve seen it broadcasted before, right?”

“Clips from it, perhaps,” Ian replied. “Specific parts of it that made it onto the news.”

So he’s never really watched it, then, Euryphel realized. He’s probably only seen the opening ceremony and the duels.

“So think of it this way: the Fassari Summit is an event that unites the globe once every year. It’s in Fassar because it constructed the first transportation array capable of travel to all corners of the globe.”

“Fassar is in a fairly-central location,” Ian acknowledged.

Euryphel nodded. “The furthest nation from Fassar is the Adrilli Isles. When first constructed, Fassar’s innovative transport array could just barely encompass Kesteora...but it was enough to justify the founding of a world assembly–the Fassari Summit.”

“People could have completed the trip to Fassar in more than one jump,” Ian stated. “I don’t see how increasing the convenience justified anything.”

The prince smiled. “Think about it this way: If I had to travel through Selejo to attend the Fassari Summit, would I do so?” The prince knew that the example was only hypothetical–the distance from Ichormai to Fassar’s eponymous capital was minimal–but hoped that it would illustrate his point.

The decemancer snorted at the ridiculous question. “Of course not. But if we’re talking about the Adrilli Isles, they have many more potential options. They could stop anywhere in Kester, for instance.”

“Would you send me to Kester, Ian?” Euryphel suddenly asked, his face expressionless.

“I–if it’s only for an array transfer connection, I don’t see the problem.”

“Yes, well, you may recall that Kester has a number of ascendants.”

“They’re all in seclusion,” Ian protested.

“Suppose Kester has an ascendant with End affinity. Knowing what you do about the skills of the Eldemari within her territory, what do you presume regarding the power of this individual?”

“They could likely bind your fate in similarly dangerous ways,” Ian admitted. “Without needing to physically be near you.”

“And of course, this isn’t to mention the many peak practitioners within Kester’s provinces,” the prince added. “Many of them much more dangerous on their home turf. No, an Adrilli envoy would never dare to take a transfer array connection into Kester. Really, only a designated neutral-zone like Fassar is an option.”

“I suppose,” Ian said, although Euryphel suspected he wasn’t yet fully convinced. He’s too naive, too quick to assume an ascendant would stay out of international politics, the prince thought. As though a public, planned array transfer connection wouldn’t be a prime target of sabotage...

“Anyway, the fact is that for the past however-many years, Fassar has served as a convergence point for international politicking. Is this much clear?”

Ian folded his arms. “Crystal.”

The prince scented his whiskey and watched as it swished along the inside of the glass. Selejan whiskey always had the subtle aroma of the Vermuthi desert: earthy and crisp, flavored by the yurarik tree wood of the barrels.

“Even though the Fassari Summit is held every year, it is typical for nearly all states to send a delegation. Do you know why that is?”

Ian shrugged his shoulders.

Euryphel took a sip of his drink, then licked his lips. “It’s because each independent nation or autonomous province–we’ll refer to them collectively as states–may bring practitioners to compete in the Grande Tournée. This is a...friendly competition by which states can win and lose Influence.”

“Influence?”

“Influence,” Euryphel repeated with emphasis, “with a capital ‘I’. One moment, let me find last year’s Influence brackets and associated benefits...”

The prince set down his glass and took out his glossY, his finger flipping up every few seconds as he scrolled over numerous saved documents. After a minute of searching, his face lit up and he stretched his arm to pass the device over to Ian.

“What is this? It looks like a normal pamphlet.”

The prince chuckled. “Well, it’s not exactly a normal pamphlet, Ian. On the inside left, you’ll see a statement of purpose for the Grande Tournée. On the center panel, you’ll find the updated list of final standings for the tournament, based on the amount of accumulated Influence. Then, on the right panel, you’ll see a list of the top fifty practitioners who competed; states receive a scaling bonus for any of their competitors who make the list.”

Ian’s eyebrows furrowed as he began to read the names of the top competitors from the previous year.

“Don’t read it all now; first, flip to the back,” Euryphel instructed, arching his neck to peer at the glossY from the side. “Alright, here you have the Influence benefits. Read through this list first, and let me know when you’ve finished.”

After about thirty seconds, Ian looked up, expression unreadable. “Who decided on these rewards?” he asked. “All the states?”

Euryphel shook his head. “Obviously not. Now, what’s the first reward again?”

Ian gave him a knowing look. “First access to any discovered rift sites.” He stared at Euryphel as though waiting for an explanation, but the prince simply raised an eyebrow and smiled slyly.

“How is that an acceptable reward?” the decemancer finally blustered, gesticulating with an arm.

“Well, it’s only first access after the initial discoverer,” Euryphel clarified. “And moreover, there are second, third, fourth, and fifth access slots as well.”

“How many rifts appear in a single year?” Ian asked, pensive. “Not more than two, and usually in the East. Why would the Easterners ever agree?”

Euryphel chuckled darkly. “Which states, outside the East, would ever rank in the top Influence brackets?”

Ian frowned, then used his finger to flip the glossY’s digital pamphlet back to the inner-center panel. “There’s a few. Selejo, for one,” he muttered.

“That’s because Selejo is really just six states crammed into one,” Euryphel quipped. “But if you look at Kester or Adrillon, their individual provinces rank at the top of the Influence bracket.”

“If that’s the case, why do the other states participate at all?”

In other words, why does the SPU even bother attending? Euryphel sighed at the implied question.

“They’re not after the rifts, but other benefits, like favorable loan rates guaranteed against a collective pool of capital.”

Ian gave the prince a look, but shook his head and peered down at the bracket rankings. 

Top Bracket

1. Iastra
2. Turina
3. Datcha
4. Citelle
5. Rathaway
6. Selejo
7. Shibaria
8. Seven
9. Feather
10. Yva

Middle Bracket

1. Breath
2. The Adrilli Isles
3. Flatochre
4. Param
5. Selejo Prince’s Union
6. Western Sere (Luxelles, Hermes, Zedd, Marico)
7. Northern Shattradan (Borna, Targar, Festoon, Yallak, Gent, Solar)
8. Outtlas
9. Koro
10. Godora

Bottom Bracket

1. Northwick
2. Eastern Sere (Pierre, Kaspari, Illuet, Belloco)
3. Brin
4. Suvva
5. Xila
6. Southern Shattradan (Swella, Koria, Saturna, Ronka, Zentka)
7. Kyeila
8. Sussea
9. Kikilla
10. Pappapol
11. Gnoste

“Why do so many of the lower-ranked states in the East still remain separate?” Ian asked. “The provinces should be able to merge together like we see in Sere and Shattradan, right?”

“That’s a great question. For some small states, the benefits at the bottom of the bracket for, say, three provinces separately wouldn’t supersede the benefits for one group of provinces in the middle bracket.

“Take the example of Sussea, near the bottom of the list. It’s the neighbor of Breath, a province at the top of the middle bracket. Separately, Sussea receives the reward of unlimited and uncontested access to a small, mostly-depleted rift within an underwater cavern off its coast; and Breath, likewise, receives one-thousand entrance permits to the natural dilation zone within the Adder Spire.

“Sussea’s power would be insufficient to raise Breath up to the top bracket; thus, if Sussea and Breath counted as one, they would have to share one reward. Split, both provinces can receive rewards, even if one pales before the other.”

“This arrangement doesn’t seem to favor Sussea,” Ian noted. “But I don’t suppose the province has any right to complain. I think I understand now.”

“Good. Anyway, the specifics don’t matter. The point is that the SPU will be competing.”

“And you want me to participate,” Ian said, raising an eyebrow.

Euryphel smiled and sipped from the glass. “It’s not like we have a choice. Every year, the competitors have to be different. If we suddenly gained the services of a peak practitioner and didn’t show him off...it’d be suspicious.”

“Or,” Ian retorted, swishing the contents of his mostly-full glass, “it could mean that you’re simply saving him for the next year.”

Euryphel shook his head. “Unlikely; the counter resets every ten years.”

The decemancer frowned. “You mean, competitors can only re-compete after a ten-year break?”

“Yes.”

“...”

“It just so happens that this is my year to compete, as well,” Euryphel said, lips curling with disdain. “It’s confounding how time passes unnoticed between one’s fingers...” And then something startles you into turning around, and time looms like a corporeal shadow.

Of late, Euryphel had felt its pressure more than ever, haunting his thoughts like a spectre. He recognized that it was only natural as one aged to grow more aware of spent time, of missed possibilities and impossible dreams...but this felt different. He felt like a man on a timer, the sense of unease in his stomach ticking like a clock.

Euryphel looked up from his glass, rousing from his thoughts. “Anyway, you’ll be competing.”

“Am I supposed to win?” Ian asked.

It was a fair question. There were two main outcomes that Euryphel could foresee: if Ian won, he would draw scrutiny and interest. However, if Ian lost, the ploy might still fail–Ian wasn’t particularly good at playing weak. While Euryphel planned to work with him on toning things down, he didn’t have much confidence in the decemancer’s ability to lose convincingly. It would likely be hard enough to have Ian win without seeming too overpowered.

Moreover, if the Eldemari and others in her cohort suspected that Ian intentionally lost...it might bring them to the conclusion that the SPU had something to hide.

“I anticipate that you’ll end the Grand Tournée undefeated.”

Ian smirked. “Good.”

“Don’t act so smug,” Euryphel muttered, rolling his eyes breaking into a grin. “You’re lucky that this year’s competition is supposed to be mild.” Some experts would face a favorable matchup against Ian, such as Remorse practitioners who specialized in mental offense, but none of them were at 99% affinity. There could always be surprises, but Euryphel trusted the intelligence gathered by his agents.

“How many people am I going up against?”

“There are typically fewer than twenty peak experts on any given year. The top bracket states usually contribute two to three each; the middle states, one; and the bottom bracket states are lucky to have such an expert make an appearance once every five years. Aside from the peak practitioners, there will be numerous individuals in the eighty percent range of affinity. You don’t need to worry about them at all, though.”

Euryphel swishes his glass, watching as the ice tumbled about. “This year, it’ll be you and I competing, as well as two others I’ve yet to decide on.”

“Only two others?” Ian asked.

Euryphel nodded. “There’s a limit on how many competitors one state can bring per year: it’s a baseline of two, with an additional competitor slot for every four-million residents.”

“No wonder Selejo scores in the top bracket,” Ian muttered. “They have something like fifty-million residents, if I’m not mistaken.”

Euryphel smirked. “That may be true, but our practitioner density is far higher than theirs.”

“Look at you, all proud of your kingdom,” Ian chortled.

Euryphel felt the tips of his ears redden. We really do have a higher practitioner density! 

“I digress: The crux of the matter is that you need to make sure you don’t do anything to give people the impression you’re a half-step ascendant.”

Ian pulled a mock salute. “Understood.”