Summoning Neragon

3. Plight of the People

"Anything not saved will, inevitably, be lost."

—Thelesis, 492 CE

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22:47 WT, 6th of Memesa, 1995 (6th of February, 1639)

Embassy of the Chowese Federation (秋華聯邦), Loweheim District, Greater Wilding, Aialand, Neragon

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Hon Meilam could say the past few days had been nothing but a nightmare. Being the ambassador to Neragon, the middle-aged woman had been thrust into a position that left a lot to be desired. She had only been transferred last year from her old position as a diplomat to Hoywako Horapon, and, while Horapon was a lot closer to her homeland, Neragon was a much better place, after all, there was a smaller chance she would be yelled racial slurs compared to her previous position in Kyuto.

And yet, she would rather be dealing with racists than what was happening now. When news of the "Great Displacement Crisis" – as it had come to be known – reached the public, hundreds, if not thousands of stranded Chowesemen and women had flocked to the embassy for help.

She was glad to be of assistance to her fellow citizens at first, but the embassy was quickly overwhelmed. And now, outside her office window in the courtyard below, makeshift tents and shelters had sprouted like mushrooms.

Hon Meilam placed her elbow on her desk, her fingers massaging her temples. Yet it did little to ease the feeling that someone was sliding a blade between her eyes and the sockets which housed them.

A knock at her office door interrupted her thoughts. "Come in."

Her assistant, Daat, entered the room. Usually, he was quite composed in front of her, but today, he seemed visibly flustered, with bags under his eyes.

"Madam Ambassador..." Daat trailed off with a half-hearted bow, she would have reprimanded him for the lack of formality, but considering the situation, she let it slide. "Sorry to disturb you, but umm... we have a situation outside."

Hon sighed. "Bad?"

"No, ma'am. But..." He hesitated. "The god Jukyung has arrived."

The ambassador's eyes went wide and she stood up. Eyeing her office, she made a quick decision. "Show him in, Daat."

As Daat left to fetch Jukyung, Hon Meilam quickly tidied up her desk. Moments later, the deity was ushered into her office by Daat.

Jukyung looked young, even more youthful than Daat – who was 27 years old – although he was in reality, around 1700 years of age and wasn't even that old compared to some of the other deities in the Kaoist pantheon. He had jet-black hair, which was wrapped into a bun at the back of his head which seemed to pull his face across his skull

"Ah, Ambassador Hon," he greeted with a broad smile and a bow. "I apologise for the intrusion, but the plight of our people troubles me deeply, and I felt compelled to visit."

Hon Meilam quickly bowed in respect. "It is an honour to have you here, Your Holiness."

The deity hummed in response. But his face turned serious when he regarded the chaos outside the embassy.

"I have a proposition to offer." He spoke. "With our homeland all but gone and our people in disarray, we need new leadership." Jukyung paused. "I have spoken with the stranded deities of other religions, Cathair, Ofukugawa Kutsumi, Cyamus Eumenius, Pythias, we even came into contact with an Apostle of Arsenine." He chuckled to himself. What in particular he found amusing was lost on Hon but she didn't dare question the deity's sense of humour.