Chrysalis - Chapter 1102: The Goods

Negotiations were always a delicate matter. There were many things to consider, after all. What was culturally and economically acceptable to both sides? What did each side want from the other? It was around these things that discussions would focus.

The first thing Eran Umizan needed to discern was what it was the Colony desired.

“Do they need food?”

Clearly, they had an interest in foodstuffs, as evidenced by the tea and scones. There was a brief consultation.

“They don’t,” Irisod told her. “Apparently, they grow all of their own food. Their own sugar, wheat, tea leaves and everything else they consume in large quantities. For satisfying their hunger, they generally use Biomass or… aphids? I’m not sure what those are.”

Interesting.

“We can negotiate a price for access to our gates?” she suggested. “Would they be interested in discussing terms for such an agreement?”

The price would be hideously expensive, of course. If you couldn’t make your own gates, then you were at the mercy of whoever was in a position to offer you access to one.

An ant entered with another tray covered in delectable-looking slices of layered cake, each topped with a twirl of pink cream. Eran’s brow went up as the tray was carefully placed before her, and another was distributed amongst her retinue.

Again, no poison.

“I thought they were short on supplies?” she asked her Court Mage, quietly.

“Apparently, they just developed their own gate.”

“What? When?”

“Just now.”

“As in…?”

“As in, during this discussion.”

“And the first thing they used it for was…”

“To bring us cake, yes.”

She stared down at the delicate confection, each layer as clearly defined as if cut by a razor. On closer inspection, she could see glistening fruits embedded in each section, strawberries in the red layer, and peaches in the orange. She took her fork and bit into it.

It was delicious.

“Please thank them for the food,” she said, then turned and glared at her daughter. “Piris! Manners!” she snapped.

Her daughter had seized upon her dessert and begun stuffing her face with it in a most un-decorous manner. The girl flushed under the withering glare of her mother and licked the cream from her cheek.

Eran tapped a finger to her chin. The Colony, as she now knew they preferred to be called, were an interesting case. They didn’t want what most she negotiated with wanted, as they were monsters.

“Are they interested in jewellery? They could adorn their Queens with the finest gems the fourth stratum has to offer, cut by our expert crafters.”

They seemed both protective and absurdly doting on their Queens, considering they seemed to have developed an entire culinary culture around serving their ant mothers sweets. Perhaps they would be interested in decorating them?

“They are mildly interested. To be more clear, they don’t think the Queens will like them, but they are willing to offer some, just in case.”

“Very well.”

It was something. She would ensure a selection of the highest quality pieces were brought to the fortress as quickly as possible.

“Out of curiosity, are any of you talking to the large one?” she asked of her Mages.

“Not currently, no.”

“Interesting.”

She pondered a moment longer. Would they want arms and armour? None of the ants she saw around her were wearing anything of the sort, though she saw some wore clearly enchanted rings metal rings around where their legs joined their bodies.

There was some level of industry in the Colony, clearly.

“Would they be interested in purchasing equipment from us? Our forges produce materials of the highest quality. Particularly, for metals and woods infused with water mana, we are the best to be found on Pangera.”

The ants rarely ever moved. No expressions crossed their faces and she had to constantly remind herself that she was looking at their skeletons. They couldn’t move them. The level of stillness went beyond just their heads, they barely moved at all. Only the antennae shifted and twitched, but she couldn’t begin to interpret such movements. Her negotiating partners were a blank wall. Another thing she had never encountered before.

“They… hmmm.”

“Out with it, Irisod,” she demanded softly, no hint of her irritation crossing her features.

The mage looked troubled, perhaps even a little offended.

“Don’t you dare show anger,” Eran warned. “Cultural differences can give rise to offence where none is intended. Tell me what they said.”

“I apologise. They suggested they would love to purchase a sampling of our wares, but only so they could study them. The ants are confident they can make superior works themselves, given time.”

Brathian pride would suggest that their mastery over the waters would never be questioned, since they were the only sapient race to live in it. They absolutely did have a far higher affinity for water mana than any other race, and were extremely accomplished when applying it in enchanting. She could see why Irisod might have been rankled by such a statement, but Eran was intrigued.

They had that much confidence in their own craftswork? It took decades to develop those Skills to an acceptable level, longer without training and guidance. The Colony was young, yet they didn’t seem foolish.

Perhaps she was approaching this from the wrong angle.

“What sort of things would they be prepared to sell to us?” she asked.

The Court Mage looked surprised, but relayed the question as asked.

“They… aren’t sure. Is there anything in particular that we are asking for?”

Eran looked around the room at the ants.

“I am interested in everything. If they are confident in the quality of their craftsmanship, then I would love to see what they make.”

They were confused. Even without any facial expressions, she could tell they were confused.

“They made this furniture,” Irisod conveyed to her. “They have a reasonably large community of artists who specialise in carving and produced all of the artworks that we can see.”

A pause.

“The produce used for the food and drink we’ve consumed was made by them. Ah, one moment.”

An ant entered with a flowing carpet held in its mandibles, laying itacross the table.

“They furnish their own fortresses for guests such as us, which includes weaving these carpets.”

A glorious pattern formed of marching ants decorated the rug, each woven in a glittering golden thread that radiated a gentle warmth. They enchanted the carpet?

Another ant rushed in bearing metal bars.

“They forge these themselves on the third stratum,” Irisod said as the bars were placed in front of her.

They radiated heat. Fire Iron.

Then they brought bows. And spears. And swords. Then side-tables. Closets came next. Fine ceramics followed the furniture, then bespoke cutlery.

Slowly, an endless variety of high-quality goods piled up on the table, and Eran Umizan could smell gold.