Page 63 of The Amber Sunburst

“Right, so most of the themes are freedom of… well, everything. Sexuality, gender, class. The country was founded on his teachings. It isn’t particularly organized, and it lacks a central religion, but the diversity of people and cultures works for them—there are sects of Islam, Hinduism, Christianity, and Judaism that get along rather well.

“After that, there are five more. They’re called the Six Survivors in all, each one situated as close to the equator as it can get; it’s the only truly safe place to be. Everything else is either submerged in water, engulfed in nuclear winter, or fraught with unstable radiation levels.

“First, there’s Utopia, just south of Europe—and they named themselves that, by the way, which tells you everything about how they see themselves. The northern states and the old-Mediterranean-border states can barely stand each other.

“Then there’s Peach Blossom Spring in Asia—” he starts.

“That’s the most populated continent on Earth and you’ve only got one name for it?” Kallias interrupts.

“The name’s what the founding compact was called,” he concedes. “Inside it there are more states than I can keep straight.”

“So should I be expecting postcard definitions for all of these places?”

“If I tried telling you everything about the political landscape of Peach Blossom Spring right now, we’d both die down here before I could finish. Even just describing the secession attempts in the south would take me hours.”

“Secession attempts?” Kallias asks.

He should’ve known that would pique Kallias’ curiosity. But, to be fair, everything seems to pique Kallias’ curiosity. “There’s a whole state trying to break off from it right now. Ahimsa. They’ve been at it for a generation.”

Kallias’ brow lifts. “A war?”

“That’s the thing. No,” Alexander says. “They won’t fight for it. Their whole founding idea is that you don’t take what’s yours by force—you just… refuse, and keep refusing, until holding onto you costs more than letting you go. So Peach Blossom Spring can’t exactly send troops to stop a people whose entire argument is that force is the thing they’re leaving.”

“So they just… wait to be free.”

“They insist on it. Loudly. For decades,” Alexander explains with a shrug. “But I’ve still got three more to go and we’re running out of daylight. Or, night light, I guess.”

Kallias’ lip twitches in a tiny smile. “Alright, postcards it is, for now.”

Alexander grins back. “Next is Ivi Maraei in South and Middle America. The name means land without evil⁠—”

“That’s optimistic.”

“Isn’t it just. There are dozens of states in Ivi Maraei, and they don’t agree on much—the highland cities still run on the old Andean calendars, the river states think they’re backwards for it. Half of the states speak Spanish, and the other half a mix of Portuguese, Nahuatl, Guaraní, and Quechua—but despite the disagreements, they are by far the wealthiest nation in the world.

“Then in the African continent you have The Sangoian Nation. Sango is the unifying philosophy, but it’s a confederation—hundreds of language-states that kept their own Pre-Fall tongues and share a council.”

“Hundreds of states share one council?”

“It’s impressive, right? From what I’ve seen—” in all the diplomatic visits I’ve made with my father, he doesn’t add “—the cultural and language barriers create issues in inner-confederation dealings, but their council presents a united front when facing threats abroad.”

Kallias hums.

“Then The Holy American Empire in North America. Almost all of their power is concentrated in Nuevo Vatican, where the royal family lives.” He tries to keep the strain out of his voice, but Kallias is probably perceptive enough to hear it anyways. “It’s the country that relies heaviest on religious principle. In many ways it serves them—but stray from the doctrine, and it’s cause for persecution, prosecution, even deportation. Doesn’t matter who you are; the Empire’s very diverse, but it’s still merciless.”

His country is not perfect. It is, in fact, deeply flawed. He learned that quickly being a hedonistic, queer, rebellious prince. And that’s one of the things he regrets most of all: he truly believes in the HAE, despite its faults. He wishes he could have been king, because maybe he could have made it better—made his people realize that, if there really is a God somewhere, and Alexander does hope that there is, he would want his disciples to practice love and acceptance before anything else. He doubts his brother will be spreading the same principles.

“There are constant skirmishes between the six nations, but everyone is also painfully aware of what caused the nuclear war: a rush for technological progress and perpetual cold wars that eventually ended in complete destruction. We’re all hesitant to strive for new technology or to escalate tensions past naval and ground warfare and secret alliances.”

Kallias furrows his brows like he has a million questions and Alexander can see a spark in his eyes.

“So how did you get here? To the Republic.”

He opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out.

Because, look, he can lose himself in Kallias’ eyes as much as he likes but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s known him closely for less than a month. He would be a fool to trust this.

And, God, does he want to be a fool. But he’s not that dumb.