Haqab’s confidence didn’t just stem from pride. Baiferm Ploeto’s power was absolute. A competitor with a strong influence in Lagos would be far from being enough to bring her down, even if they united many royals and aristocrats. Many of the Lagos royal family of this generation died in ‘unexpected accidents’, and it was hard to find a prominent figure other than Ploeto. The outcome of the civil war was obvious, leaving only the young and foolish guessing.
“Baiferm Ploeto has fallen from power.”
Ricardis looked back at Lewon, his face stiff like a wooden doll.
“You said Ploeto fell from power?”
Was there anyone left in Lagos to pull her down?
The banquet hall became noisy once again. The new Baiferm of Lagos walked in through the large arched entrance. Ricardis looked at the figure and frowned. She was an eight-year-old little girl.
“Are the nobles trying to take control of the country and upend it? Lagos is over.”
Would that young child have dragged down Ploeto, starting an uprising from the nobles and royalty? This Baiferm is part of a puppet show.
Haqab raised one corner of his lips and slowly stroked his cheek. An unexpected figure appeared, but it was not too bad. His posture screamed that. He showed confidence that this puppet queen ruling a kingdom weakened by civil war did not have the ability to eat him.
Illavenia had to get their hands on Lagos, whose land mass dominated the Northern region of the continent, before Balta could do it. Lagos had enough power to influence rapidly changing situations in the continent’s future.
Everyone rushed to the young ruler of Lagos. The Baiferm’s eyes widened at the sudden crowd. As strangers surrounded her, she looked visibly nervous.
Haqab was delighted to see the young Baiferm flustered. He slowly walked toward her, then stopped abruptly. Haqab’s gaze shifted away from the girl. At that moment, the attention of everyone in the banquet hall also went back to the entrance.
Clack.
The tap of a delicately carved black cane echoed through the hall. It was a heavy sound that calmed the confusion and commotion. A person stood tall at the entrance as the light poured in. The elderly woman had a stubborn visage. She wore clothes embroidered with floral designs only the royal family of Lagos could don. The young Baiferm sighed with relief and trotted over to her.
Ricardis turned to Lewon. Lewon only shrugged at the unspoken question of who she was.
Ricardis’ mind raced. Turbid purple eyes, a presence that, despite her small stature, one would not dare to underestimate, and a royal in the mid-70s…
Ricardis stopped at that point, tracing the royal lineage of Lagos in his head.
Could it be…?
Ricardis covered his mouth with his hand to hide his embarrassment. He immediately turned his gaze and looked for Haqab. The man who leisurely walked earlier now stood stock still. His relaxed expression became a little twisted as he also realized the situation.
Balta’s delegation hastily assembled around him. Those who gathered information whispered urgently in Haqab’s ear. Haqab rubbed his chin with a stony smile and looked at the woman.
‘This is difficult.’
Ricardis read his lips from a distance and became convinced of the old woman’s identity from Haqab’s reaction. The banquet hall buzzed. Some of the more senior nobles recognized her.
“Baiferm Dimla…”
Dilma was the one who united Lagos, a small country made up of variously sized tribes, and raised them to their present status.
Dimla was the Baiferm two generations before Ploeto.
It was necessary to go back in time to explain how more than a hundred large and small tribes came to be called by one name. It was a time when there was no Lagos on the map.
At that time, wars of conquest were common. Countries on the continent competed against each other and annihilated smaller tribes to occupy space. Following this trend, the weak also commonly came together to create a new country.
Lagos was also a country founded in such a way. Thirteen tribes, which had aimed swords at each other until then, quickly united due to external enemies. They each choose to form an alliance to protect each other’s backs.
The tribes engraved their vows on a black, hard stone unique to Lagos and moved it to the lowermost part of the castle.
[To all those who live on the land of Lagos, I hope you will remember that you live on an eternal vow.]
The thirteen tribes selected a ruler based on a majority vote. The result was unanimous, and a woman missing one arm was given the crown. Her reputation was not something that could fade over time. She persuaded and threatened the tribes by wandering the cold continent for many years to establish Lagos. Her very existence symbolized the vow she made when she started her journey. As such, the ruler of Lagos was called ‘Baiferm’, which meant ‘everlasting vow’.
The remaining twelve chieftains who took the oath to protect Lagos came to be called ‘Zertaye’, which meant ‘a fire that never goes out.’ They are the light around the everlasting vow that exists deep underground.
Together, they fended off the invasion of other countries and protected each other as per the eternal promise. However, the fortunes reaped from wars that once engulfed the continent dissipated over time. Peace slowly began to settle over the blood-soaked land.
The victory and peace won were only a fleeting sweetness. A lot had changed, but the fact that the land they tread on was cold and barren had not changed. The resources many Lagos people needed were limited, and they foresaw a battle.
Lagos could not turn the conflict onto their neighbors because every country on the continent agreed not to start a war of aggression again during an armistice meeting. To the other allies and countries, Lagos could disappear without a trace so long as they didn’t start an international incident.
And so, the battles of taking and losing between tribes rekindled in Lagos. Those united by victory were divided by defeat. Even if bound under the name ‘Lagos’, invisible cracks gradually formed.
Those conditions lasted for a long time and continued for generations. Thanks to this, Lagos could not solve their plight as a weak country. Lagos was powerless because they could not unite, and they could not grow because they were powerless. It was a vicious cycle.
At that time, Dimla ascended the throne. As soon as she received the title of Baiferm, she shared the wealth that the royal family had accumulated over several generations throughout Lagos. It was a large amount of money, enough to build a small country.
Everyone said it was stupid. Holding that money allowed Dimla to rule the messy country, but she handed over all her power.
The monarch takes care of the people, so the people respect the monarch, and a nation forms through mutual bonds? Several people cursed that it was a naive ideal, a futile wish. But Dimla had a saying.
[One without ideals or dreams is not worthy of standing above the rest.]
[You cowards refuse to see what you must see and close your eyes in the name of conformity. And you who must avoid battles do it only by force. A ruler should not be cowardly; she should not close her eyes.]
However, they only tolerated the path she wanted to follow as the ideal of an immature queen new to the throne.
Those in power began to distance themselves from Dimla.
[‘Why should we care about the words of a queen who has nothing?’]
It was not just a story within the Kingdom of Lagos. Other neighboring countries began to cross Lagos with the same thoughts.
The Kingdom of Geritz crossed the border of Lagos without permission and annihilated a village. It was an event that marked the beginning of a full-scale war of aggression. However, Geritz was erased without a trace from the map within a short period of one month.
Tribes that had only bit and ripped each other apart quickly gathered under Baiferm Dimla and stood at attention. Lagos was a fighting nation that always lived embroiled in battle, with strong warriors surviving the vicious snow storms. Other countries didn’t realize the threat because of Lagos’s infighting, but once the warriors went out to meet them, everyone learned of the danger and sharpened their blades properly.
[You cannot live alone in a cold country, brothers. We engraved the oath to protect each other on a thousand-year-old stone, and the twelve unquenchable flames will burn forever.]
Dimla awakened the vow that everyone knew but had forgotten. The faintly extinguished flames of Zertaye burned again.
Of course, she could not fix the old cracks at once. Groups of people who looked down on the royal family and more anti-Lagos adversaries rose, trying to hold back the Lagos that painfully tried to move forward. They felt that the young Baiferm, who only gave moderately, did not have the capacity to lead this generation. The act of looting other tribes, whose defenses were weak due to the war with the Geritz, began to take place in various places in the country.
Dimla was furious as the blood of her brethren spilled upon the earth. She gave no warnings. The benevolent monarch and the ferocious warriors behind her never forgave those who harmed their brothers. The wild ones fell to their knees under her sword.
Since then, Dimla collected many accomplishments one would think impossible to attain in one lifespan. Sometimes she moved Lagos towards progress with a carrot, and other times with a stick. She also discovered buried resources to use to establish trade with other countries.
After Dimla’s reign, people’s perception of Lagos changed dramatically.
From ‘A land of ignorant barbarians that eat each other’ to ‘A land of barbarians you must not anger because they may accidentally eat you. They say Dimla, who heard this, rolled off her throne and laughed.
After dedicating her life to building up the country before stepping down…
Her granddaughter, Ploeto, not only attracted untrustworthy, power-hungry countries to Lagos, but the Baiferm also committed atrocities that gradually redirected the state’s vital resources.
It was a situation where, if Dimla had been dead and buried, she would have kicked off her coffin lid. Her appearance at this time was bound to happen.
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