Wilbur

In the early days of L'Manberg, there was one region. It was a barren land with wide fields of grass and uncomfortable temperatures. The slaves from Greater who fought for their independence claimed this land, and the exiled magicians with no where else to go were able to terraform the region to make it habitable. As L'Manberg's population grew larger, the nation also got bigger.

The magicians fled to the east into a land rich with mana, vital herbs, and mythical monsters. The magicians remained underneath L'Manberg's king's leadership, but they were given the freedom to perform their magic however they saw fit. This led to the people forming the Crystal Cliffs. To ensure the safety of their people and to guarantee that no one abused their newfound freedom to commit heinous acts using their magic, Crystal Cliffs was divided into territories ruled by a mage. The one in charge of all the territories and responsible for picking each mage was the Archmage. The Archmage was appointed by the king. Whenever the king changed, the Archmage would as well.

The freed slaves remained in L'Manberg, but some of them were the descendants of a forgotten kingdom. They were not eager to reclaim their status as a kingdom, but they did retain their noble bloodlines to separate the land to the northwest of L'Manberg. The royal bloodline was given the biggest area. As the ambassadors of their land, they devoted themselves to the king of L'Manberg, swearing their fealty for many generations to come. This family was known as House Sausage, and they formed Mythlands.

The farmers of L'Manberg found their way to a stretch of land that spanned from the northwest to the southeast. They named their land Gilded Helianthia after their goddess of agriculture, Helianthus. Their borders were drawn around the areas where specific plants could grow.

The land west of Gilded Helianthia were even more barren than the original L'Manberg. It was a sandy desert with scorching hot days and freezing cold nights. It was rumored that the land was cursed by the gods themselves, and the people who decided to live there were called the Cursed Ones. The Cursed Ones were poor without agriculture or a main export. The king of L'Manberg proposed an alliance, at first, where the Cursed Ones would provide glass and copper while L'Manberg provided protection. The leader of the Cursed Ones instead offered to join L'Manberg, and thus Pixandria was added to L'Manberg's lands.
Schlatt was a territory gifted to the king's faithful friend, more a dukedom the size of a region than an actual realm that had been split up into many different noble families. The two families had been intertwined ever since that original gift.

Pato had once been part of Schlatt. It was a forested land without anything in particular to make it remarkable. The only reason it had been split off from Schlatt was because of an alliance between L'Manberg and Las Nevadas. The leader of Las Nevadas gave up his eldest child to L'Manberg under the condition that his son be given noble land and a title.

As it stands, Crystal Cliffs, L'Manberg, Mythlands, and part of Gilded Helianthia were allied with Pogtopia. The other half of Gilded Helianthia, Pixandria, Schlatt, and Pato were allied with Manberg.

Wilbur made sure to remember this as he stared at the council that he had summoned to his war meeting. Archmage Gemini Tay sat at his side. She wore a light green dress with a purple, wool-lined cloak over her shoulders. She had flipped the hood over her ginger braid and her green eyes. She carried a wooden staff with her that had been dotted with a glowing purple crystal. When he had been crowned king of L'Manberg, Gem had been a graduate of not only the Crystal Cliffs Academy, but she had also spent a year studying at Kinoko Scholar's Academia. When Wilbur had been debating who to appoint as Archmage, he had seen her playing with the children at the academy, making large crystals that exploded into glitter. He had looked into her to confirm his decision, and he eventually decreed that Gem be the next Archmage. She humbly accepted her position, and Wilbur was happy that he hadn't made a horrible decision when he appointed her.

On Wilbur's other side was Mythical Sausage, the current patriarch of House Sausage. He had a short brown beard and light blue eyes. He was wearing a red robe over a green shirt. His right arm was put into a metal sleeve, and his brown pants were tucked into his yellow lined green shoes. He had only ever interacted with Wilbur through monthly letters that updated Wilbur on the condition of Mythlands.

On the other side of Mythical was Saintess Pearl of Gilded Helianthia. She had blonde hair that faded into honey brown at the tips. She had bright blue eyes, and there were sunflowers woven together to make a flower crown on her head. She was wearing a forest green dress with off-shoulder sleeves with rings of golden yellow around them. When she was younger, Pearl had exhibited signs of being related to the divine. She had the incredible ability to make plants grow faster and in areas they normally couldn't. No matter where she was, she could always produce a good harvest. This led people to believe she was blessed by Helianthus, and she was given the title of saintess. It was nothing more than a word these days. The Church of Helianthus had chosen to side with Schlatt, and their saintess went against them. Some of the people followed her while others sided with the church itself. This division of the land was the reason only half of Gilded Helianthia joined Pogtopia.

"We need to make a decisive strike against Manberg. If we don't, this war will continue into winter," Mythical said. They had been in this meeting long enough to drop noble pretenses. There was no time to bother with royal titles and law-ordained respect when their people were dying.

"It won't entirely be a problem if this war goes into winter. With me here, Pogtopia will continue to have food. Unless the church has prepared enough food to last them the entire season, Manberg will soon fall to starvation," Saintess Pearl said. Wilbur looked her in the eye, and he saw no sign of boasting. She genuinely believed she could provide half a nation's worth of food all by herself. Wilbur wondered if she actually could. It would be amazing if he didn't have to worry about food again in this war, but he didn't want to overtax the saintess. He didn't exactly know where her power came from, after all. L'Manberg allowed its people to have any faith, or a lack of it, that they wanted. Wilbur didn't believe in Helianthus, so he was hesitant to admit that Saintess Pearl possessed a god-given power.

"Even if we have food, we shouldn't try to prolong this war. We need to find a way to finish this war as soon as we can," Gem said, her gaze locked onto the map that had been set up in front of them. Wilbur had slaved away at this table for days now. He made sure it was up to date, and he ran scenarios in his head to guarantee that he was making the right decisions.

"Archmage Gemini and Lord Sausage are right," Another voice added, sitting across the table from Wilbur. There was one more person brought along to this meeting. He was a youthful man with cyan hair and dark blue eyes. He was wearing a pale blue shirt with golden buttons underneath a white cloak with golden lining. He had brown leather boots and a belt around his waist. He was wearing golden bracelets and a golden crown on top of his head. He was Scott Major of Rivendell, the imperial prince of the Antarctic Empire, the future emperor. He had arrived earlier that day with his army to assist Pogtopia in their effort to reunite the country.

"I must agree. I wish for the war to be over before the winter hits us. Although there are benefits, such as Saintess Pearl providing us food and the Antarctic Empire's army being suited for colder weather, this is not a risk I want to take. There is no need for prolonging the war if we can end it now. There are lives we can save if we find a way to finish this war now," Wilbur said, putting a hand to his chin. He rubbed it thoughtfully as he continued speaking. "However, we must understand that there are many threats and little time. For starters, Manberg is being controlled by the former duke Schlatt. We will either need to imprison or assassinate him. We must do either in a way that does not lead the people underneath him to continue their rebellion without him, painting him as a martyr. Secondly, it is highly suspected that Schlatt is not working alone. He obviously has connections with someone else that pushed him into starting this war. We will need to discover their identity and eliminate them. Thirdly, we have the other participants of this war to deal with. I am not sure what Schlatt promised them, but I highly doubt they will give up even with Manberg no longer part of the war. We will need to discover those motives and deal with them appropriately. Badlands is another one we must be wary of. Spies and other intelligence gatherers have confirmed that the Badlands is being corrupted by what we have come to know as the Crimson Enchanter. Schlatt has also summoned a demon known as Xornoth. These are multiple threats that we must take care of all at once."

"This requires a divide and conquer strategy, does it not?" Mythical said after a moment had passed with them all contemplating Wilbur's words.

"Indeed. I cannot do much in terms of an actual war, but I can remove the threat of the Crimson Enchanter. I am certain that with the resources of the Crystal Cliffs and my own prowess as a mage, I will be able to discover the truth behind this mysterious magic-user. I will reverse the effects of their mind control on the rulers of Badlands. I will also provide magical weapons to the armies of Pogtopia and the Antarctic Empire. With the scientific achievements of Snowchester, I am certain that we will have greater weapons than our enemies," Gem offered with a resolute look in her glowing emerald eyes. Her staff buzzed with energy behind her, illuminating the candle lit tent in an amethyst colored light.

"The Antarctic Empire can hold off Greater's army. As you mentioned before, King Wilbur, our army is suited to colder weather. We will not suffer as your army has in the mountains of Greater," Scott said as he gazed at Greater on the map. As much as Wilbur hated to admit it, Scott was right. Pogtopia's army was not used to cold weather. L'Manberg was such a warm place. They did not know how to survive in the frosty cold of the mountains. Pogtopia had lost a lot of ground trying to keep Greater's army in the mountains where they belonged.

"I understand that you have placed your naval command in the capable hands of Captain Puffy of the Maelstrom. I am not accustomed to naval warfare, but I do know that it is difficult to get food on these ships. If I am there with Captain Puffy, our ships will be able to stay on the water for longer amounts of time. They will also not fall victim to diseases of the sea caused by a vitamin or nutrient deficiency. I will provide you all with a wide assortment of poisons before I leave," Saintess Pearl spoke up. The whole room looked at her for a quick moment. She smiled at them with something violent lighting in her eyes, something decidedly un-saintlike.

"I cannot provide much more specialized help other than my armies fighting against Manberg and Badlands as they have been doing already. I can, however, tell you that I have a ruthlessly efficient assassin under my payroll who will be more than happy to follow my orders. I can plant him in Schlatt's kingdom, and he will wait there until we all agree that the time is right for his assassination. I agree with Wilbur that Schlatt is not the puppeteer behind all of this. We must keep him alive until we find out who is. If not, this puppeteer will spin Schlatt's death in his favor to make the people more willing to fight for him," Mythical mentioned with a cruel smile overtaking his voice. Wilbur stared at the man. In his letters from a few years ago, Mythical had mentioned that his people had found a group of dark sorcerers trying to resurrect the Blood King, an ancient ruler of the kingdom that existed in the land Mythland occupied before Mythland was a place. In their pursuit of this, they created a vessel for the Blood King who they called Chorizo. The vessel had gained some of the Blood King's powers, but he did not have the former king's consciousness. When he was freed, Chorizo loyally stuck with Mythical. Mythical couldn't bear killing him, so he instead hired Chorizo as his personal assassin. Wilbur was technically allowed to use Chorizo as he saw fit, too, but he never thought about eliminating his enemies until now.

"Give him orders to discover as much information as he can. I have spies in Manberg, of course, but it could not hurt to be as well-informed as we can be in this situation. It would all suit as well if Chorizo could discover the identity of this puppeteer," Wilbur admitted. He looked towards the water clock resting against the side of the table. The Syndicate should be back around now. "I have an elite unit headed by the Blade that will handle Xornoth. The rest of my army will have the same orders as before. They will continue to fight until we can put this war to an end. With that being said, I believe we should all retire to our quarters. Everyone should work on their new missions individually, and all plans we made today should be started no later than dawn tomorrow. I wish you all luck. May the god you believe in protect you, and may your wits stay about you."

The others seemed to agree to the terms. Gem, Pearl, and Mythical each gave a proper bow to their king. Scott nodded his respect to the ruler of another land. Wilbur thanked his subjects, telling them to rise, and he gave Scott a nod back. With all the proper customs followed, the four of them filed out of the tent. Wilbur sucked in a sharp breath, releasing it in the hopes that the tension in his chest would leave. It wouldn't, even when he was filled with a bittersweet hope that maybe he could win this war in a timely fashion. He wasn't alone, after all. He had people that were working with him instead of the whole world being against him.

"My king, may I enter?" A voice spoke from outside the tent. Wilbur's head whipped up, his crown nearly toppling off his head as he tried to straighten out his uniform. He took a few deep breaths before calling out for the person to come in.

A man with a dark beard and hazel eyes with gold flecks. He wore a dark gray tailcoat over a white shirt with matching pants. He held both of his hands behind his back as he bowed down to the king. Wilbur felt a small smile lift on his lips. This was James Marriott, a L'Manberg-born citizen who had gone to school at Kinoko Scholar's Academia and spent some time teaching there. He had come home to Pogtopia when he heard the war was starting, much like many other L'Manbergians who attended the academy. Wilbur had spent a little bit of his freetime looking into the returners, and he had finally settled on one of them.

"Please rise, Professor Marriott. It would be rude of me to force you to do that when I have a favor I need to ask of you. I understand that you are a teacher at Kinoko Scholar's Academia. I am sure there is no one unaware of how acclaimed that school is. It is a huge honor to attend, difficult to graduate, and nearly impossible to become one of the professors. You have managed to accomplish all three tasks. For this, I beg you to teach a small class for me. I do not wish for them to be anywhere close to the standards of the academy, however, they need assistance in learning about writing, reading, and most importantly, politics. There are three of them. There are the siblings Kristin and Tommy. They are from Business Bay. They were put in positions of power at a young age, and they were not able to finish their basic education. The next is Ranboo. He has memory issues, and he does not know where he is from originally. He has little understanding of the world in any capacity. I understand that it might be difficult to teach them, especially in these trying times, so I am willing to pay a fair amount for this," Wilbur asked. He had been planning on getting a tutor for Ranboo, at least, so when he saw that James was coming back to L'Manberg, he jumped on the opportunity to have a meeting with the professor.

"I would be honored to do this for you, your majesty. I do not even require pay. I believe that knowledge should be spread to everyone. That is the motto of the academy, and it is a code that I live by. I will immediately set forth to ensure that these youths are not only smart enough to survive this war, but that they will be able to have jobs afterwards," James said with a smile brightening his whole face. Wilbur sagged in relief. He had been expecting to barter with James. The royal treasury wasn't exactly stable with the war going on, but he was willing to dip into his personal funds in order to make sure that Ranboo, Tommy, and Kristin were taken care of. Ranboo had become a good friend to Wilbur while they waited for the Syndicate to return. He was as naive, if not more, than Shrub, and Wilbur was thankful for a friend that didn't criticize his every decision. Tommy had found some place in Wilbur's heart like sunshine erasing all the dark shadows. Kristin was important to Phil who was important to Wilbur. Plus, Wilbur felt like he needed to protect Kristin, almost in the same way he felt like he needed to protect Tommy and Techno.

"Thank you, Professor Marriott. You have my gratitude. Should there come a time when you need something, do not hesitate to ask me. I will do my best to provide it. I will introduce you to your students tomorrow and allow you to become acquainted with them. You are dismissed," Wilbur said. James Marriott bowed to Wilbur before exiting the tent. With all his meetings done for the day, Wilbur fell back into his chair with a loud huff and trembling hands. He was tired, anxious, and terrified, and he felt like he was falling apart.

"Wilbur," A voice spoke. Wilbur's eyes snapped open, quickly meeting Phil's eyes. The man looked completely distraught. He looked like he was grieving, and Wilbur jumped to his feet. He had never seen Phil look so weak before. Phil had always been a strong symbol of power and darkness. He never appeared like a tired and sad... father, Wilbur filled in the blank, though he wasn't sure why that word came to his mind. "Apollo- Tommy, Tommy was taken by pirates. Techno went after him. The rest of the Syndicate was told to come here to report to you how the mission went. It was successful other than losing them..."

Wilbur choked on his breath. In his head, he could see himself cradling a blonde close to his chest as blood poured out of an arrow wound. He saw a guardsman carrying the corpse of a young teenager who had been beaten to death. He felt someone stab him in the gut as he watched that teenager try to defend himself, and darkness covered his vision as that teenager was impaled by a sword. He watched that child sob and scream as he took his own life. He saw a broken man with graying eyes and near white hair begging him not to go, holding a sword like he was ready to take them both out if he said he was still going to leave.

There was a pink-haired man tied up in a cage, an anvil swinging above his head. There was a shove against his shoulder as that man took a fatal hit for him. There was a man who stood unafraid in the face of opposition, unflinching as an arrow entered his forehead and left out the back of his skull.

Wilbur nearly fell to his knees as his mind was flooded with memories. Throughout every memory was a grief so overpowering that Wilbur felt like he was going to puke and sob and scream all at the same time until he could no longer feel a thing. Wilbur was vaguely aware of someone holding him against their chest as Wilbur tried to calm down, pushing away every painful memory until he was left with the truth. He barely knew Tommy and Techno. He had a few scattered conversations with each of them, and he doesn't think he ever talked to the both of them at the same time. Even with that plain truth, Wilbur felt like he could destroy the entire world if someone took away his sunshine and his rock- the thing that chased the storm away and the thing that kept him steady when the storm simply wouldn't leave. Tommy and Techno, for no logical reason, were so important to Wilbur that he felt like he was being gutted at the idea of either of them being taken from him.

He needed them back, and he needed them back now.