Two Moths Drawn to the Flame

**"Two Moths Drawn to the Flame"**is the fifteenth episode of *War* and the 64th episode overall.

The episode was published on April 4, 2021.

In the episode, the two opposing alliances host summits to strategize victory over the other.

## Appendix

Episode Title Card**A:** Map of the War, 719**B:** Canisian Royal Family, 719**C:** Leprolian Royal Family, 719**D:** Mallardian Royal Family, 719**E:** Vulpine Royal Family, 719**F:** Willonian Royal Family, 719**G:** Summer Sun Proposed Post-War Division**H:** Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis**I:** Rook of Vulpus, Vista, Vulpus
## The Episode

*—Diary of Lana Loudoun—*

*-February 13, 719-*

*One of O Camp’s new arrivals came through Administration today; there had been a mixup with his cabin assignment and he was erroneously placed in an already-occupied household. He was very understanding about the ordeal and I quickly resolved the issue and reassigned him to one of the new cabins.*

*Anyway, I’m smiling as I write this because he asked if I could show him around O Camp, and if he could have me over for dinner sometime. His name is Nicholas Porker and our date is set for tomorrow night! He’s only one year older than me and originally from Redgrave Village. He’s a newly-ordained doctor, and was sent here as a replacement for our last physician who opted to join the army again as a medic. I think he’s a wonderful pig, from first impression anyway. But in case he’s a secret axe-murderer I shan’t write any more praise.*

—The Rook of Vulpus, Vista, Vulpus—

—Kingdom of the Foxes—

-February 15, 719-

The four leaders of the Summer Sun sat together around a table in the war chamber of Vulpus. It was their annual summit, hosted by the Vixen Queen. The four of them were alone, as even servants and attendants were prohibited from listening in. The Chequer of Scuridiae requested that their heirs attend, but the Vixen Queen refused as her 10-year-old daughter was still too young.

Each monarch had arrived to the meeting with overt displays of their own royalty. Queen Vixen VII was draped in a red and purple cape and the sharp crown of Vulpus. A sash bisected her torso, heavy with pins and medals.

Stag Ellis of Cervidium wore all green and his antlered crown. The Vixen Queen thought he looked a bit ridiculous with two sets of antlers. His shoulder pads were made of black fur, and he would not say from which animal they originated.

Macaw Arini of Psittancyna was the most colorful, as was to be expected from the parrot king. His cape was made of feathers from the entire spectrum. The needlessly tall crown of his was rested perfectly in the center of his scalp, jutting toward the ceiling like the Vixen Cliffs.

Chequer Vincent I from Scuridiae wore armor, heavy iron armor, with the emblem of the chipmunks emblazoned across the front. He only adorned his head with a simple golden ringlet, similar to the one King Swan XX of Mallardia used to wear before he was slain.

On the table in front of them was a virtual map of Cartonia, depicting the areas under control of the Summer Sun and those still occupied by the Granite Bloc. Even though the Summer Sun had made significant advances over the last few years, and now controlled half the continent, it was difficult to hold most of the territories due to widespread resistances. The cats, ducks, rabbits, and mice vehemently protested Summer Sun occupation and required extra policing, thus taking away support from the armies.

The Stag was speaking to the status of his troops. Most were concentrated in occupied Felexa, Leprolia, and occupied Capricon. While progress was being made in Leprolia and there was minimal resistance in Felexa, the main focus seemed to be on Capricon.

“The goats of Capricon,” the Stag was reporting, “have welcomed the advance of our armies. We have high public support, and they are turning on the Granite Bloc in droves.”

“Speaking of Capricon,” the Vixen Queen jumped in. “My troops have recovered Prince Harald Hornover from Baahaa. He was being sheltered in the Jewel, which we have since recaptured. As the last male member of his dynasty, Harald wants to be restored to the throne of Capricon.”

The Chequer guffawed.

“Not bloody likely!”

“I concur with the Chequer,” Macaw Arini stated. “Capricon was a thorn in our side and never a true beneficial ally. King William was far better at strategy but of course he died and left the crown to his inept son Edward who lost the Kingdom mere days later. Now his youngest, most inexperienced son wants power over the complete country?”

“That’s ridiculous,” the Stag opined.

“Then we are in agreement,” Queen Vixen declared. “The Kingdom of Capricon will remain abolished even if we reclaim the territory.”

The Macaw made a humming noise, his head cocked.

“Well, no, we can’t abolish the entire Kingdom…the goats are only supporting our advance because—“

“Because,” the Stag interrupted, “they think we will be restoring their autonomy.”

“Exactly,” the Macaw concurred.

The Chequer pointed at the map.

“Why don’t we just give him the capital? Half the population lives there anyway. We’ll divide up the rest of the territory.”

“Hmm,” the Stag pondered, “I like the idea. None of us really want to rule over the goats, do we?”

The Macaw sniggered.

“Licentious idiots. No.”

The Vixen Queen enlarged the map of Capricon.

“Alright, so we’ll give Harald Hornover the capital of Baahaa once it’s been fully reclaimed. Capricon will be reduced to just the city and become a lesser entity in comparison to our Kingdoms. What do we call that?”

“A colony,” the Chequer joked.

“Territory,” the Stag suggested.

“He’s a prince, isn’t he?” the Macaw posed. “Prince Harald will rule over the Principality of Capricon as Prince Regnant.”

All four leaders eagerly agreed on the titles.

“I shall inform the new Prince Regnant,” the Vixen Queen said with a grin, “of his new role once Baahaa is secured. Now before we start discussing the division of territories after the Granite Bloc’s surrender, shall we continue our status reports?”

“Indeed,” the Chequer stated, standing. “I believe it is my turn, unless the honorable Stag has anything else to add?”

Stag Ellis shook his head, and the Chequer began his report. Nothing much had changed, which was infuriating. The Chequer was only responsible chiefly for one front: the Simenese-Scuridian border. His crowning achievement in this war was the invasion of Cape Alyaska in Ursus, though he managed to bungle that too when their attempt to ransom Princess Theodora ended in her inadvertent death.

Scuridiae’s only neighbor was Simeone, and in twelve years of war they had not made any advancement into that country. Even with help, the monkeys held fast against the chipmunks. The Vixen Queen would be impressed with the non-king Ham Mercury if they weren’t enemies. Instead, she was agitated. Scuridiae was supposed to defeat Simeone easily and turn its attention to Eusuchia and Equine Isle. The island nations were the least likely to fall, as they needed to be fully invaded by sea. Doing so would require a strong coordinated effort from all Summer Sun leaders, and the Chequer was incompetent in leading his own army.

Nonetheless, the Vixen Queen smiled and nodded along as the Chequer outlined his plan to break into Simeone. Her instinct told her it would not work. The monkeys were supported in their trenches by elephants, dogs, and bears, as well as mice and ducks in exile. It was one of the strongest fronts in the war, aided by the decade of trench enhancement that the monkeys were able to finance due to the stability of their hold on the border.

Macaw Arini’s presentation was more uplifting. The parrots continued to push into Porcinia, and King Bacon IV was forced to evacuate a large chunk of his citizens to temporary rehousing camps in the south of the country. More and more were relocated every month as preemptive measures. The Macaw was confident that their strategy would pay off, and soon they’d arrive at the northern border of Phantine or the Porcinian capital of Sowtown.

“I’m also happy to report,” the Macaw continued, “that as of yesterday morning, we have breached the Ursine border. We have broken through one of their trenches, giving us the edge on the country.”

“Excellent!” the Vixen Queen exclaimed. The Stag and Chequer also voiced their congratulations.

When it was the Vixen Queen’s turn to present, she illuminated a map of Mallardia and Willie, which were some of her current priorities. Attacks on Vulpine occupiers were frequent and deadly. A suicide bomb in Anatoidea obliterated one of Vulpus’s temporary headquarters. In addition to exerting dominance over the newly-conquered Kingdoms, the Vixen Queen was trying to keep Equine Isle and Eusuchia in the fight by engaging them in naval battles. Other than that, she mostly offered support to the other Summer Sun nations. Vulpus’s prime location far away from all fighting gave them less urgency and the freedom to not have to defend their own borders.

“One more thing,” the Vixen Queen added, turning the page of her agenda. “Ellis, I have received reports again of poisonous gas being stored in trenches in Leprolia, which is where some of my troops are stationed. I thought we’ve already had this conversation, that biological warfare was not to be used until a vaccine could be developed to protect the Summer Sun.”

The Stag shifted irritably.

“Yes, we’ve discussed this. And yes, I have ordered all of my units not to use the canisters we have stored there, unless in a severe emergency. None have been used since the battle at Wicksfield last August. I thought as long as we had masks…”

“The gas can still permeate the masks,” the Chequer sighed. “Your tests prove that. I personally am not comfortable fighting alongside you unless I know I have been vaccinated against the disease you are trying to spread.”

The Stag cleared his throat and crossed his arms.

“I hear you. I understand. I will ensure a vaccine is developed. We have the best minds working around the country.”

“We don’t want another plague,” the Macaw muttered. “Many of our citizens were lost to it, and that was natural. I fear to think of the devastation should one of your creations leak from your labs.”

The Stag simply scowled in the Macaw’s direction. He hated being ganged up on.

“How are the experiments?” Queen Vixen asked in a slight change of subject. She knew that the Stag was using prisoners of war to test the plausibility of supernatural powers, such as invincibility, immortality, and genetic purity. They were also working on restoring the parrots’ ability to fly, though the Vixen Queen didn’t care about that. She was hoping that the deer would find a way to rewire molecular biology, allowing any Cartonian to be turned into a fox. However, no one knew of this hope. Not even the Stag.

“They are going well,” the Stag said without looking anyone in the eye. “We continue to experiment and test different theories. Um, no successes as of yet. But we remain optimistic.”

The Vixen Queen glowered at him. He wasn’t telling them something.

“I heard,” the Chequer put forth, “that the experiments result overwhelmingly in death. How are you explaining this to the Granite Bloc? We are supposed to be keeping prisoners of war in case they wish to exchange. We can’t do that if we only have corpses.”

The Stag groaned again. He hated being grilled, but it was his own fault for not including it in his own report.

“We have survivors of the experiments. They are not as brutal as people say. You’ll find a supply of survivors in castles around Cervidium, as well as in Kurinoye Selo in Gallix and Talonclaw Castle in Felexa.”

“Any side effects to any of this stuff?” the Macaw asked, whacking a pencil against the table.

“Sorry?” the Stag replied, caught off guard. The Macaw shrugged.

“Are there any side effects? To those who survive your experiments, I mean? I remember you explaining the surgeries to us, and I can’t imagine anyone emerging from that the same way they entered. I mean, is there scarring, or perhaps cancers or other diseases? Same goes for the gas, though I believe you said there were no survivors at Wicksfield.”

The Stag placed his hooves together.

“No side effects. The most common effect of the gas is death. That is the point of the gas, at least. The experiments leave a few subjects with minor scarring or disfigurement, but nothing drastic.”

The Vixen Queen narrowed her eyes at the Stag. She swore he was lying, but she couldn’t determine about what.

“Anyone else want to take a shot at me?” the Stag snapped. Queen Vixen saw the Macaw roll his eyes.

“How’s your wife?” the Chequer asked with what sounded like cordiality. “Is she still ill?”

“Unfortunately,” the Stag replied at once, slightly wincing. “She’s convalescing at one of our summer homes on the coast.”

“Why don’t we discuss the division plans?” the Vixen Queen suggested to switch subjects before the Stag erupted. He had a short fuse. She changed the virtual map on the table to show the current state of Cartonia.

“Now we have already agreed to a four-way split of the continent. I had my Martial design up this map which will show all the territories we are expected to receive at the war’s conclusion. Let me make a quick adjustment to reflect the new Principality of Capricon…”

The map transformed, and the four leaders stood to get a better look.

“Psittancyna will take the entirety of Phantine and Porcinia, as per the Macaw’s request. Scuridiae will annex Ursus and Simeone. Cervidium will take Felexa, eastern Capricon, Leprolia, and Bovo. Vulpus will control Eusuchia, Equine Isle, Mallardia, and Willie. Cervidium and Vulpus will continue to split Gallix, and all four of us will share Canis.”

“West Terrier to you, of course,” the Chequer said to the Queen, raising his glass. “Nothing will sour Bentley Connelly more than to see you living in Highland Castle.”

The Vixen Queen smiled deviously. It would be the greatest prize of them all. They had extensively discussed what the end of the war would look like, and all seemed content with their planned lot. But the Vixen Queen was not content to rule as one of four on the continent. Scuridiae was run and occupied by imbeciles. The Macaw was too preoccupied with reinvigorating Psittancynesian glory and parrot flight to see the potential for Cartonia under the burgeoning Vulpus Empire. Only the Stag shared her ambition, and she had to keep him in check.

For when the Granite Bloc finally lowered their flag in surrender, the Vixen Queen would conquer all of Cartonia until only foxes reigned supreme.

—Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis—

—Kingdom of the Dogs—

Hamish McRory, a sixteen-year-old dog of modest stature and origin, tapped his foot anxiously on the polished wooden floors. He held his cap between his legs, and his bag was leaning against the chair.

The servants hall of Highland Castle was uncomfortably quiet. He had expected a bustling downstairs similar to that of Lady Shetland’s at the holidays. Or at least how it used to be before she took ill a few years ago. Hamish was one of the last members of her staff, and she finally dismissed him a week ago. Only yesterday, she passed in her sleep, just as Hamish arrived in West Terrier with his one suitcase of belongings and her letter of recommendation. He took it, as instructed, to the gates of Highland Castle and asked for an interview with the Royal Head of Household.

As he waited, Hamish tried not to think about what would happen if his request was denied. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. No family left, and any friends he made in Lady Shetland’s service were too poor to care for him. His parents died of the plague, and were buried in the Shetland cemetery. He missed them dearly, but had to carry on. Hamish supposed if he was not able to get another job, he’d have to spend two years wandering in homelessness until he was old enough to enlist in the army.

Hamish glanced down at his day suit. It was made of tweed, and patched in all the areas it had torn. It was the best jacket he owned, and he hoped he wouldn’t appear too unkempt for the Royal Head of Household. He tugged on the left sleeve anxiously.

The castle grounds were abuzz with talk of the annual Summer Sun summit presently occurring in Vulpus. Canis had recently announced their intention to host the Granite Bloc’s summit in March. If Hamish was able to secure a job today, he might be able to see it in progress.

A figure descended the staircase, dressed in regal red livery. He was a tall, slightly old dog with a steel disposition and wide glasses. He checked his watch in a flash, then glanced distastefully at Hamish’s clothes.

“Hamish McRory?”

“Aye, that’s me.”

“Hmm. Come.”

Hamish lifted his suitcase, placed his cap on his head, and hurried after the dog. He was led into a common room where several servants were tending to royal business. None of them looked at him as he passed. They entered the Royal Head of Household’s study, and the older dog closed the door behind them.

“Have a seat, Hamish. You may remove your hat. How old are you, boy?”

“Sixteen.”

“Mm. Not old enough for army enlistment. I’m told you want a job.”

Hamish squeezed his hat between his paws and nodded at the older dog, trying not to appear too desperate. The dog took a pen and notepad from his jacket pocket and began to write.

“I am Callum Clackmannan, the Royal Head of Household.”

“Um,” Hamish murmured, “sorry? I-I didn’t catch your name.”

He had spoken it so quickly and Hamish was so nervous. He told himself to calm down. Callum lifted an eyebrow and slowly enunciated his name.

“Callum Clackmannan.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. It’s an honor, truly.”

“The honor,” Callum intoned, “is to serve the King’s Majesty and his family, as well as the government of Canis. As you know, we live in dark, horrible times. The King is devoted to our wellbeing, and so we must ensure his. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Hamish spoke passionately. Callum cleared his throat.

“Now, we don’t just take interviews off the street. However, I was told that you have a letter of recommendation from Lady Shetland.”

Hamish dug in his tweed jacket for the envelope from Lady Shetland. He passed it to Callum.

“Here you are, sir.”

“How is Lady Shetland?” Callum asked as he opened the creased envelope. “I heard she took ill.”

“Um,” Hamish stammered. “She died yesterday, sir. Uh—I was dismissed a week ago. She—em, wasn’t able to pay us anymore.”

Callum was surprised to hear of the Lady’s passing. He sighed.

“That’s a shame to hear. I wonder if His Majesty knows. They’re distantly related.”

“She was a good lady,” Hamish commented. “I will always be grateful for being able to be serve her.”

Callum did not respond, taking the time to read over the letter of recommendation. He softened.

“Sorry about your parents, boy. The plague was devastating.”

Hamish silently nodded, averting his eyes. Callum folded up the letter.

“I see that your service has predominantly been as a doorman, but I do not have need for a doorman.”

“I can be a footman!” Hamish promised. “I have been cross-trained in most capacities. I-I can even cook a little. I just need—“

“Slow down, boy,” Callum warned. “You should never have to grovel for a position. You come highly recommended from a respected Lady of Canisian nobility. I’m not going to toss you out. It is clear you have nowhere else to go. Would I be mistaken?”

Hamish shook his head, almost guiltily.

“I may be straitlaced, traditional, and perhaps a bit rough on the exterior, but I am not heartless. I am happy to provide you with a position here. It’s only a matter of determining which capacity would suit you best.”

Hamish’s heart soared. He was going to stay!

“Any capacity, sir! I am eager to serve.”

Callum eyed him.

“Have you ever dressed the Lord Shetland?”

Hamish nodded.

“Speak up.”

“Yes, sir. After Lady Shetland dismissed the valet, I helped Lord Shetland with his dressing before he passed last year.”

“Was there any issue? Complaints, I mean?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you familiar with army uniforms?”

Hamish paused. He thought for a second.

“We had a few generals visit Shetland House a few years back. Our staff underwent an orientation on how to fix all the medals and clasps. It’s complicated, but I think I remember.”

The edge of Callum’s face turned up in a smile.

“Do you consider yourself a fast learner?”

“I do,” Hamish admitted. “My mother taught me to sew when I was wee, and soon I was sewing on all the buttons of the Lady’s dresses. The ones that needed mending, I mean.”

Callum made a few more notes.

“The King’s valet,” he explained, “has decided to enlist in the army, and in two weeks will be deployed to Leprolia. The King has already requested that I find a suitable replacement, and I think you’ll do.”

Hamish gaped.

“Me, sir? But…I have no official valet training. And for the *King…*”

Callum’s eyes twinkled.

“I thought you said you’d do anything. This is a great honor, Hamish. The King is accustomed to the people that are already here, but has lately taken a fascination with those from outside his court. You may not be aware, but Highland Castle is playing host to the Queen of Felexa and her court, mice, ducks, and other animals in exile. Hell, interspecies marriage is finally legal. I think the King would find you an admirable companion.”

“Companion?” Hamish muttered.

“Indeed.”

Callum kicked back his chair and opened the cabinet behind him. He removed a set of uniforms.

“This is your livery. Let me know if it’s too large. I’ll take you to your rooms.”

Hamish felt a tear welling in his eye.

“Thank you, sir. Bless you, sir.”

“No groveling, Hamish. You may call me sir, as you are already apt to do, or Mr. Clackmannan. Take this.”

He passed him a pamphlet. “Those are the rules of the downstairs staff, and it includes a map of Highland Castle. Have you been here before?”

“No, Mr. Clackmannan.”

“It’s daunting, of course. Any castle of this size would be. Take the next few weeks to familiarize yourself with the castle, and the old valet will aid you in understanding how to dress the King. He does most things himself, but the army uniform is difficult beyond comprehension so…”

Callum tossed his paws. “You will mostly serve at the King’s leisure. The position can be quite tedious, only because of the King’s independence, which is why many of my staff have chosen not to apply for the valet post. Your arrival was most fortuitous, and I am glad you’re here. You seem a remarkable young man.”

Hamish grinned.

“You’re most kind, sir.”

Callum led Hamish to his bedroom, which was shared with one of the chauffeurs. His roommate was at work, and so Hamish had some time to unpack his suitcase.

“Give me your jacket,” Callum requested, sticking out his paw. Hamish removed it and passed it to the Royal Head of Household.

“It’s no use, sir. I’ve already patched and mended where I could…”

“I’m not taking it to mend it. I’ll record the measurements and have one of the seamstresses put together a new one for you. On your days off, you’ll want something to wear when you go down to the city. You like the tweed, yes?”

“Very much so. My mother…she picked it out for me.”

Callum nodded and folded the jacket.

“There’s a few things I would like to go over with you. First, you are accustomed to noble service, but royal is vastly different. Things must be executed precisely and consistently around here. The quality expectations are monumental. We are…spoiled in a respect because the current King is much more tolerant and humble than some of his predecessors. I’ll be candid in saying that the death of the Lady Libby Connelly has further eased our tensions. Nonetheless, we hold ourselves to a higher standard so that the King will be viewed at a higher standard.”

Hamish nodded fervently.

“I understand, sir.”

“Good. Second, I mentioned it a bit earlier, but the capital has become a very tolerant place. Shetland was one of the regions opposed to the legalization of interspecies marriage. Whatever your opinions or beliefs may be, we adhere to the King’s. He supports the new law, and we will not tolerate bigotry.”

“Oh, sir, there’s no need to worry about that. Lady Shetland approved of the law change, as did we all. If it had only been implemented before the war, it may have been avoided.”

Callum smirked.

“It’s a sweet sentiment, one that I once shared. But this war was never avoidable. The Vixen Queen would have found a way to upset the Concert of Cartonia.”

He tapped his head. “And that’s the third thing. We try not to discuss politics, but with the war raging on…ah…it’s so easy to slip into the conversation. Just be respectful, always assume positive intent, and don’t get animated.”

“Understood.”

“Lastly,” Callum said, stepping up to Hamish, “we love our King. He is the greatest man I have ever served. I pity everyone who has not had the honor to meet him. He is just, kind, loyal, and brave. Yet above all, he is lonely. He has lost someone that can never be replaced, and he will never talk about it. He bottles it up. You might find him…gazing off into space. I think he sees her there.”

“Victoria Vixen?”

“Aye. That’s the lass. I met her once, about a month before she died. She could have been a great Queen.”

“Does the King speak to his family about her?”

“I don’t know,” Callum admitted. “But don’t mention her around him. It puts him in a mood for a while. He has a tormented mind, but puts on his courageous face for others. While you are here, especially in his immediate service, you will observe a different King. You are not to share anything he says to you with anyone, nor are you to tell anyone outside of this staff what you see. Do you understand?”

“I do, Mr. Clackmannan.”

“And while I’m on the subject of not speaking, don’t mention the Lady Libby Connelly either.”

“The Queen?”

“Nay, not the Queen. She was stripped of her titles before her death, and was known then and forever after as only the Lady Libby Galloway. She conspired with the Vixen Queen to assassinate Victoria Vixen, you know.”

“Do you believe that, sir? Some of the servants at Shetland House were skeptical.”

“I do believe it,” Callum replied. “The King believes it, and I trust him.”

Hamish nodded.

“Well, then. That’s all I have for you. Read over the pamphlet. I’ll get your jacket fixed, and let your roommate know you’re here. He’s easily scared so I won’t have him walk in on you. Dinner is served at 6.”

Hamish bowed his head to Callum.

“Thank you again, sir. I won’t let you down.”

Callum grinned.

“Good day, Hamish.”

—The Rook of Vulpus, Vista, Vulpus—

—February 19, 719-

Violetta Vixen was ten years old now, the only living daughter of Queen Vixen VII. In four years, she would be formally invested as the Crown Princess of Vulpus. The position was previously held by Victoria Vixen before her assassination, and before that by Veronica Vixen, the Queen’s eldest daughter, before she was killed in the deadly duel with her sister.

The Queen was overly protective of Violetta. There was slim chance now of the Queen having additional children as she continued to age. If Violetta died, the crown would pass to Valencia Vixen, the Queen’s sister.

“What is the most important lesson, darling?” the Vixen Queen asked Violetta, who was unwrapping her napkin for lunch.

“Trust no one.”

“Precisely.”

The page knocked on the door.

“Your Majesty, the Princess Valencia and the Princess Vanna.”

The Vixen Queen and Violetta rose to greet Valencia and Vanna, who strode in together wearing matching periwinkle gowns.

“Majesty,” they said in unison, curtsying.

“Sister,” the Vixen Queen greeted. “Niece. Join us.”

“Thank you for coming to lunch today,” Violetta swooned. The Vixen Queen nodded proudly to her. The intent of the luncheon was, as ever, to keep Valencia in check. Someone so high in the line of succession was almost expected to make some sort of claim to the throne. It would only take one major misstep on the Vixen Queen’s part for Valencia to assert that she would make a better Vixen Queen. At least, that’s what the Vixen Queen wanted Valencia to think. She had the paramount support of the Vulpine army. If Valencia had any hope of taking the throne, she’d need the backing of the army.

“How is your husband, Vanna?” the Vixen Queen asked.

“He’s good,” Vanna replied. “He does the job.”

Valencia smirked.

“She says that, but she is not yet blessed with a daughter.”

“I’m only 23,” Vanna sniffed. “It’s not like I’m barren after having two sons.”

“Do you want daughters?” Violetta asked innocently. Vanna cocked her head.

“Of course I do. That is the duty of any Vixen princess. To bear daughters.”

“Indeed…” the Vixen Queen trailed off. She tried not to display her envy that Valencia was already a grandmother, ensuring two successive generations from her line. The Vixen Queen would have to wait nearly another decade before Violetta would have any chance to reproduce.

They continued to eat in muted silence. In all honesty, the Vixen Queen did not think her sister would try to dethrone her. Valencia was a gossip gal, more interested in hearing the news than making it. She was the only veritable threat to the throne since their other sister, Vora, was dead. But if Vanna produced a daughter, then the Queen’s niece could become a threat herself.

“Have you seen the recent polls, sister?” Valencia asked sweetly. “They say that you are by far the most popular Vulpine monarch of all time.”

“Interesting,” the Vixen Queen remarked, having seen the results that morning, “I did not realize I was so popular.”

“Of course you are,” Vanna insisted. “You are leading us to greatness!”

“Then I suppose my position is secure?” Queen Vixen tested, gazing at Valencia. Her sister looked concerned.

“Absolutely. Who would be idiotic enough to rush for the throne?”

The Vixen Queen chuckled once and resumed her lunch.

—Vinesteeple, Primatia, Simeone—

—Republic of the Monkeys—

-March 5, 719-

“Oh!” Queen Daisy exclaimed in surprise. “Minerva! You startled me. Come in, come in.”

Minerva Taylor walked into the makeshift office of the Willonian Queen-in-Exile. It had once been for one of the Chancellors of Simeone, but she willingly vacated it so that Queen Daisy could work privately.

“Your Majesty,” Minerva began, rubbing her paws together, “I will be accompanying you to Canis for the summit, but after that I will stay there. I’m here to bring you my resignation.”

Daisy automatically let out a whimper as she took the note. Minerva was a loyal servant of the Mus family, and served as Royal Historian for well over a decade.

“No…” Daisy whispered, reading the letter.

“I’m sorry,” Minerva mumbled. “There’s just no need for me anymore. There’s no Willie, and I think I can do more good if I was researching with Maximilian Walters and Lionel Lazoy in Canis.”

Daisy nodded her head.

“I understand, Minerva. I’m just sad to lose you. We came here together in exile, and I’ll miss having you around. But I suppose you’re right. It’s not like I’ll be queuing up other mice to replace you.”

Minerva smiled.

“It’s been a real honor, ma’am.”

“Oh gosh, don’t call me ma’am anymore. I know the resignation is not effective immediately. But if I’m not going to see you for who knows how long, I’d prefer if we went by first names.”

Minerva angled her head.

“Daisy.”

“Will you sit with me on the train tomorrow?” the Queen of Willie asked.

“It would be an honor,” Minerva replied.

—Highland Castle, West Terrier, Canis—

-March 10, 719-

Hamish McRory flicked a speck of lint from his sleeve and followed Callum Clackmannan to the King’s chamber. The moment had finally arrived. After nearly a month of training and learning from the former valet and substitutes, Hamish was going to be presented to the King and begin his service.

“Your Majesty,” one of the attendants announced, “Sir Clackmannan and Mr. McRory.”

Hamish followed Callum into the King’s bedchamber. Callum immediately bowed, and Hamish followed suit. King Bentley II of Canis was standing bare-chested in front of a mirror, plucking at hairs on his beard. He saw the entrants in the reflection, and turned.

“Good morning, Sir Clackmannan. Is this the new valet?”

“Yes, your Majesty. This is Hamish McRory. He served the Lady Shetland for his entire life.”

Bentley’s eyebrows went up.

“Ah, yes. That was mentioned to me. So sad that she passed. How has the training gone, Hamish?”

“Well, your Majesty. I am at your service.”

Hamish bowed again. Bentley flicked his hand upward to indicate that Hamish should rise.

“Mr. Clackmannan, I think we can take it from here.”

Callum gave Hamish a reassuring squeeze on the arm before passing out of the chamber. Bentley pointed to the wardrobe.

“The uniform is in there, and all the buttons and clasps and doodads are over here. My last valet taught you what to do, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Hamish said quickly, hurrying to grab the uniform. He calmed his nerves by pretending that Bentley was not the King at all, but just another one of the mannequins that he trained on.

“I hear you came here alone,” Bentley called from across the room. “Were you frightened?”

Hamish paused as he walked back with the uniform.

“Only a little, sir. I didn’t know what I would do if Mr. Clackmannan turned me away.”

Bentley sniggered.

“With a letter of recommendation from Lady Shetland? Even in death we would never defy her. She was my grandfather’s cousin, and a close friend of my father. I don’t suppose you ever met King Ewan?”

“No, sir,” Hamish replied, helping Bentley into the coat. “I’ve never met any royalty before.”

“We’re not that great,” Bentley joked.

Hamish closed his left eye to block out Bentley’s face as he worked on the medals and clasps. He didn’t want to think about the King staring at him.

“You have a wonderful castle,” Hamish said to fill the silence. “I can see why Highland Castle is so revered.”

Bentley chortled.

“That’s nice of you say. I’m sure I’ll hear that a lot from our guests today.”

Downstairs, the leaders of the Granite Bloc were all gathering. Nearly every guest bedroom in Highland Castle was occupied tonight.

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to sound trite.”

Hamish finished with the jacket, and Bentley pulled on his boots.

“You know, Hamish, it’s been a long time since we’ve hired someone from outside the city to work here. How have you enjoyed it so far?”

“Very much,” Hamish professed. “The staff is extremely polite. I have made good friends with my roommate, and Mr. Clackmannan has been an excellent mentor. I have much to be grateful for, given that for a brief moment I faced having nothing.”

Bentley’s face softened.

“I cannot imagine,” he whispered. Hamish fetched the sash, belt, and regalia. Bentley lifted his arms as Hamish set to work.

“You’re doing a great job,” he commented. “Usually my valets panic and drop something their first go-around. Once it was the crown that dropped, but I don’t think anyone’s noticed the dent.”

Hamish’s grip on the crown tightened. He lifted it onto Bentley’s head. He stepped aside so that the King could inspect himself in the mirror.

“Amazing. Perfect! You’re a natural!”

He shook Hamish’s paw. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Hamish.”

“Me too, sir.”

The King flashed one last smile before heading downstairs to his allies.

—

Thumper Connelly and his 14-year-old daughter Evangelina Connelly watched from the gallery overlooking the main hall of Highland Castle as all the dignitaries entered. It was rare for the leaders of the Granite Bloc to travel to other Kingdoms, and even rarer for them all to converge in Highland Castle. The last summit held here was in 709, and Evangelina was too young at the time to remember. She was excited to see the monarchs in person.

She had grown so much over the last eleven years of war, and could scarcely recall the time before the conflict. It was insane to think of how many children were born during the war and had never known peacetime.

“King Octavio VI of Bovo!”

They were going alphabetically by nation. The King of Bovo entered from the courtyard and greeted Bentley outside the war chamber. His entourage went toward the reception room while Octavio headed inside the war chamber. The Granite Bloc summit would begin with a private meeting between the leaders.

“King Horatio V of Equine Isle! And Heredera Navarra Caligari.”

The longest-reigning monarch of Cartonia and his daughter strode into the main hall, hoof in hoof.

“How long has he been King, father?” Evangelina asked. Thumper sucked in his breath.

“Oh gosh…let’s see. He was coronated in 652…67 years. A long time.”

“He must be so tired…” Evangelina remarked.

“Farress Nilia of Eusuchia!” the herald called. The serene crocodile strolled over to Bentley. She wore a traditional Eusuchian headdress. There was some concern as to whether or not she would be able to make the journey since Unity Sea was hotly patrolled by Vulpus ships. Yet here she was!

“She’s wearing black,” Evangelina noted. “Is she still in mourning?”

Thumper shrugged.

“That’s likely. Losing two of your children is unfathomable.”

“Queen Roxanne II of Felexa! And Madonna Jacquetta Lazoy.”

They were already in the main hall, standing near Bentley. Jacquetta wandered off while Roxanne entered the war chamber. Minutes later, Jacquetta appeared on the gallery.

“Jacquetta!” Evangelina greeted familiarly.

“You have the best view,” Jacquetta responded, taking a seat next to Thumper.

“Crown Prince Sterling Oldman of Leprolia!”

The only monarch who would not be in attendance was King Cottontail IX. The leader of the rabbits was recommended against traveling due to his age and health. Sterling Oldman, who had gradually been assuming more of his father’s duties, was taking his place.

“Queen Swan XXI of Mallardia! And Queen Mother Isadora Mallard.”

The 16-year-old Queen of Mallardia, ruling in exile, perambulated across the main hall with her head held high. She was every bit as regal as her father, and Thumper was still saddened by the death of King Swan XX. Bentley and Thumper had known him well before the war, and their friendships were strengthened by it.

“Babar Waarheid of Phantine!”

The formidable king of the elephants stomped across the hall, his trunk swinging back and forth. He came alone, as was usual when he traveled. His son and heir, Nguvu, was back in Phantine.

“King Bacon IV of Porcinia and Queen Roseanna!”

Thumper waved to Bacon, who had glanced up at the gallery. He returned the gesture.

“Major Ham Mercury of the Republic of Simeone!”

The only leader not to be a monarch was unaccompanied by any other monkeys. He had literally traveled alone, unheard of in royal circles. He was the anomaly among them, but just as significant. Simeone had only been invaded once in a minor skirmish in 710 that precipitated Simeone’s entrance to the war.

“King Archibald of Ursus!”

Thumper inclined his head as the monarch of the bears entered. He was, like Bentley in many regards, tormented by the loss of his loved ones. True to his word, he had not remarried after his wife’s passing from the plague, and he was unlikely to ever completely come to terms with the murder of his daughter, the Princess Theodora.

Remembering the shock of her slaying, Thumper pulled Evangelina closer.

“Queen Daisy of Willie!”

Another one cursed with loss. Hers was perhaps the most brutal of all of them, as nine members of her family were mercilessly executed by the Vixen Queen. The image of their bloodies bodies circulated Cartonia in the days following the slaughter, and Thumper knew he’d never forget them.

Now that all the monarchs had gathered, Bentley went into the war chamber himself and shut the doors.

“Show’s over,” Jacquetta muttered, standing. “Anyone care for a game of cards?”

Thumper and Evangelina walked with Jacquetta to one of the parlors, leaving the twelve leaders of the Granite Bloc to their war.

—

“Welcome everyone,” Bentley began once the doors of the war chamber were locked. “I’m pleased everyone could make it. Sterling, please give our greatest well wishes to your father.”

Sterling Oldman, heir to Cottontail IX of Leprolia, bowed his head.

“Shall we go around the table?” Bentley suggested. “Give a brief update on each of our states.”

“Take it away, Benny,” King Horatio V of Equine Isle beamed. “Kick us off.”

Bentley nodded.

“Right now Canisian troops are concentrated in Porcinia and Simeone, though a few squadrons are being allocated to Leprolia and Phantine to help with those fronts. We continue to try to get our ships around Psittancyna, but they’ve got it held fast. However, any boats that we can get to Equine Isle and Eusuchia will be delivered. We maintain control over Canisian-Occupied Capricon, which seems to be holding strong even as the rest of the country is recaptured.”

“Are you not going to tell us of your domestic triumph?” Queen Roxanne II of Felexa posited. She was smiling at him.

“Oh,” Bentley muttered. “I’m sure you’ve all heard, but Canis has passed a law repealing the Limitations on Marriage Act, which has enabled interspecies marriage.”

Queen Swan XXI, Ham Mercury, Queen Daisy, King Archibald, King Bacon IV, and Roxanne burst into applause. Muted applause came from the rest, if at all. Not everyone was keen on the subject.

“I’ll go next,” Roxanne said, who was sitting directly to the right of Bentley. “Sources continue to tell me that Talonclaw Castle remains under Cervidian occupation. The capital is conquered, and resistance is quickly squashed. The country is predominantly now run by deer, and if the Summer Sun is victorious I would wager that Felexa would become part of their territory. I have not heard any word from my husband, Giulio Lazoy, and do not even know if he is alive. I have appealed to the Stag himself for information, and he has ignored it. So I remain here in exile with King Bentley and my family.”

She fell quiet. It was hard for her to sit at the table of Granite Bloc leaders who could have saved her nation had she not aligned with the Summer Sun. She didn’t have much to contribute anymore, now that they’d drained her of her knowledge of the Summer Sun. Without a nation or an army, she was just an advisor.

“If we’re going around the table,” Sterling Oldman spoke up, “then I suppose I’ll go next. My father’s health is fragile. He’s being cared for, but we expect soon that he will be designating me as Prince Regent.”

“Oh dear,” King Bacon IV muttered.

“In terms of the military situation,” Sterling sighed, “the situation is rather bleak. Cervidium with help from Vulpus have taken half of our country. We can’t dig trenches fast enough to block their advance. Thankfully, they have not used that nefarious gas again since last August. I think it backfired because it killed all of their soldiers too. Any aid that can be granted to us would be graciously appreciated, if for nothing else than to impede Cervidian forces.”

“That leads into me,” Octavio VI of Bovo stated. “We have dedicated nearly all of our forces to fight in Leprolia. We know if our geographic positions were reversed, the Oldmans would come to our aid.”

“Certainly,” Sterling reaffirmed.

“Moving up to the north,” Bacon jumped in, “we have held the parrots at bay, but they are getting harder to hold off. We have evacuated all of our citizens residing above the sixteenth lateral line in order to protect them. They’ve been rehoused in refugee camps near the Canisian border.”

“Same with us,” Major Ham Mercury added. “All Simenese citizens on the Capricovian or Scuridian border have been moved toward Phantine. We haven’t had any resistance or issues to the order; have you, Bacon?”

“None.”

“Not much else to report from Simeone,” Ham continued. “As you are aware, our front is steady. The chipmunks are rumored to be bankrupting themselves trying to break our trenches.”

“Simeone is a gracious host,” Queen Daisy said suddenly. “Queen Swan and I are in exile there, and the Major has been most generous.”

Ham smiled at her.

“I’d like to talk about Psittancyna a bit,” Archibald interjected. “They have recently crossed into our territory, but I have confidence we can push them out. Equine Isle and Phantine both continue to support the Ursine-Porcinian struggle against the parrots. As for the situation on Cape Alyaska, the trench line has not moved and we are constantly defending against the chipmunks.”

Next was Farress Nilia of Eusuchia, who had been quiet the whole time.

“We are defending our ports from constant invasion,” she murmured. “20% of our population died in the plague, and we have not yet recovered from that. I wish that I could do more to help on the mainland, but unfortunately we must focus on our defense.”

“Understandable,” Bentley said.

“Phantine expects an invasion,” Babar Waarheid reported, “if the Summer Sun is able to reconquer Capricon up to its northern border. We have dug extensive trenches and intend to hold them off. Like Simeone, we have not had any border breached. For that we are grateful.”

“Queen Daisy?” Bentley gestured to the leader of Willie.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t have much to report, as I am just a Queen in exile. Our country is doing what it can to resist Vulpine occupation. Musenzollern Castle finally fell to the foxes, and they’ve no doubt looted the entire place. Queen Vixen has refused to send the bodies of my family to Simeone for a proper burial, and so I will never really know what became of them, or where they met their fate.”

She trailed off, and Bentley moved on to spare her from the brutal silence.

“Equine Isle is similar to Eusuchia,” the elderly Horatio V explained, “but we have the benefit of controlling the Equine Strait and therefore can easily get to and from Ursus to aid in the fight against Psittancyna. The parrots try on the regular to land a ship at the northern tip of our country, which is usually snow-covered and difficult to permanently defend. However, they have always failed and we will continue to ensure that they do.”

Bentley turned to the youngest member at the table.

“Last but not least?”

Queen Swan XXI, always known to Bentley by her birth name Bella Mallard, stood.

“My fellow allies, as I have reached the age of sixteen I am no longer in need of a regent. There’s not much for me to report either, as my country is also occupied by Vulpus. My citizens have formed a solid resistance, and violent attacks in Anatoidea against the foxes may be working. I have remained neutral on the subject, as I am not the leader of these resistances. My family and I remain in exile in Simeone until it is safe for us to return to Mallardia.”

“Thank you—“ Bentley began, but Bella kept going.

“I think it is inevitable that most of our nations will face Summer Sun aggression right upon our doorsteps. Gallix, Felexa, Mallardia, and Willie have all been subjugated. I hope that none of us at this table have to live through—or relive—the suffering that these four families have had. We are the leaders of our nations, and our families are the forerunners of that leadership. When the Summer Sun rushes for our capitals, they mean to abolish our families to stamp out any hope for a peaceful restoration of the monarchy.”

Everyone was staring at her, amazed at her precociousness, but not sure where she was going with this.

“I am speaking from my own experience,” Bella continued. “When the Vixen Queen murdered my father, I was immediately proclaimed Queen, destroying Vulpus’s hope to state the royal family was dead. She tried this with Willie as well, but Daisy survived to pick up the crown. I urge everyone at this table to ensure a solid, and safe, line of succession. Do not put all of your jewels in one box, for an attack can be swift and sudden. Our monarchies must prevail in order to remain a beacon of hope to those under occupation.”

She sat down. Bentley cleared his throat.

“Well, I think she brings up a good point. Succession has already been enacted in four of our nations since this war began. Simeone’s was probably the most drastic, as the monarchy was abolished and replaced with a republic…”

“A system that works, I might add,” Ham commented. “Though Queen Swan spoke of monarchies in her speech, Simeone has devised an airtight succession system as well, so that there will always be a leader of Simeone.”

Archibald cleared his throat.

“I have made it plain that I will not be remarrying, and thus the Parliament of Ursus has decided on another family to be my successor. The scion they have chosen is the Speaker of the Parliament and someone with whom I’ve worked closely. She’ll be an excellent Queen.”

“What subspecies?” Horatio asked in curiosity.

“Polar bear.”

“Ooo,” Roxanne mumbled.

“I’ll jump in here too,” Bentley said. “I do not have children. Nor am I married. I think you can all assume why. I do not have any intention to marry anyone, as I have always been content knowing that my brother Thumper will succeed me after I am gone. He will be followed by his daughter, Evangelina. And so on.”

Farress Nilia stood suddenly. Her headdress bobbed a bit on her head.

“I think we should have a few minutes of silence for those who have fallen. Royals and commons alike. Lest we forget.”

The twelve leaders bowed their heads.

“Lest we forget,” Bentley murmured.

—

Maximilian Walters now had the great fortune of living in the same castle as Lionel Lazoy and Minerva Taylor, his two closest friends. All three were royal historians, though Minerva had tendered her resignation last week in order to stay in Canis. Max and Lionel received approval from their respective monarchs to hire Minerva jointly as Historian Advisor to both Kingdoms.

“I’m glad we don’t have to be in that meeting,” Lionel remarked, thumbing through a book.

“Why?” Minerva asked. “We’re going to have to be in basically all the rest.”

“It’s the first meeting of the summit,” Lionel explained. “That’s where all the emotions come out, and they get mad about everything.”

“The last summit was civil,” Max said quietly. Lionel waved his paw.

“No, no, not mad at each other. Just…mad. About everything else. I’m grateful not to be there.”

Minerva shivered.

“Is it always so cold here?”

“Yeah…” Max uttered. “Hope you brought coats.”

Minerva let out a huge sigh.

“My hope is that this is the last summit. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we achieved victory this year?”

Lionel closed his book.

“We say that every year. Avenues for peace closed a long time ago, and we’ve taken a hard detour into total war.”

“The Granite Bloc and Summer Sun are always going to be at each other’s throats,” Max mused. “Even after the war is done, the scars will never go away.”

“Sometimes,” Lionel said, “I think that these leaders have forgotten what it was like during peacetime. Things have gotten so bad that war has become the new normal.”

Minerva frowned.

“War is a fire. It destroys everything it touches, and grows larger the more it consumes. The Granite Bloc and Summer Sun are like two moths drawn to the flame. And scorched.”

They were silent in ponderous thought.

“And there’s no escape,” Max pointed out. “We’re all stuck here. This is the only life for us, and we’ve ruined it.”

Lionel glanced at an open atlas on the table between them.

“There’s the Expanse.”

Max laughed heartily.

“You want to go into Vulpus to scale down the Vixen Cliffs? After you!”

“Well,” Lionel retorted, “if we *could* get to the Expanse, that’s a way out. Theoretically.”

Max and Minerva glanced at each other.

“But there’s nothing there,” Minerva stated. “That’s why we’ve never gone south of the Vixen Cliffs. It’s a savage wasteland in the lands beyond. Just…desert. And misery.”

Lionel closed his eyes.

“But imagine it!” he whispered. “Picture a paradise beyond the Vixen Cliffs, where happiness like we knew before thrives and flourishes. A utopia…”

Max shook his head. He couldn’t picture anything of the sort. There was nothing south of the Vixen Cliffs. They only had this world, the one they set on fire.

## Production

### Continuity and Story Arcs

This episode introduced Nicholas Porker as Lana Loudoun’s love interest, though he was merely mentioned in her diary entry.

The Summer Sun convened in Vulpus for an annual strategic summit.

During the proceedings, the alliance agreed to allocate the city of Baahaa to Harald Hornover, the last remaining member of his dynasty. Capricon, once recaptured, was to become Cartonia’s first Principality.

The Stag did not share with his allies that Doe Deirdre survived her experiment, or the supernatural power to control fire that resulted from it.

The Summer Sun discussed the end of the war and devised a four-way split of the continent. However, the Vixen Queen had every intention of becoming the only ruling species by war’s end.

Hamish McRory made his first appearance since the season 3 finale “Into the Fire.”

Minerva Taylor resigned as Royal Historian of Willie and moved permanently to Canis, where Maximilian Walters and Lionel Lazoy lived.

The Granite Bloc held their own annual summit in Highland Castle.

Lionel Lazoy first floated the concept of escaping Cartonia through the Expanse.

### References

The Summer Sun’s summit was based on meetings between the Axis Powers (Germany, Italy, & Japan) during World War II.

Lady Shetland is a reference to the Scottish Shetland Islands.

Callum Clackmannan’s surname refers to the region of Scotland called Clackmannanshire.

## Trivia

* The title of this episode is a quote from an episode of *The Tudors*, when a ghost of Anne Boleyn appears before a dying Henry VIII. She compares herself and Katherine Howard, Henry's fifth wife who was also beheaded, to "**two moths drawn to the flame**, and burned."
	+ The line was quoted by Minerva Taylor: "The Granite Bloc and Summer Sun are like **two moths drawn to the flame**.”
* Of all members of the main cast, Hamish McRory was introduced latest. He did not make his first season appearance until the fifteenth episode.
* This is the first episode to be published in April.
* The downstairs of Highland Castle was modeled after *Downton Abbey*. Callum Clackmannan is loosely based on Mr. Carson from that series.
* This episode was wholly written in a single day, on June 11, 2020. The only other *War* episode to accomplish this feat is “No Matter What.”
* During the writing of this episode, specifically during the Granite Bloc summit scene, the author learned he was being laid off from his job.
	+ Nonetheless, writing continued until the episode was concluded.