In the seasons that followed the seventh Pidashin gathering, movement between the three clans became more frequent. Messengers traveled more often along the shared roads, and trade routes widened as caravans passed in both directions.
The Nerathi lands saw more visitors than before.
Artisans from the valleys crafted delicate ornaments from river glass and polished shells, items that drew attention from merchants of both the Aurevian plateaus and the Volkrin highlands. Invitations were sent for shared exhibitions, and small delegations were welcomed within Nerathi terraces overlooking the misted waters.
During one such visit, the Aurevian leader walked along the curved balconies of a Nerathi residence. He paused beside a sculpture carved from pale stone, its surface reflecting the morning light.
"You have always favored refinement," he remarked.
The Nerathi leader inclined his head slightly.
"Refinement," he replied, "endures where force does not."
The Aurevian leader smiled faintly but did not respond. Instead, his attention drifted toward the distant hills, where a column of Volkrin soldiers could be seen moving along the ridge road.
In time, Nerathi representatives began attending more gatherings hosted by the Aurevian clan. They were offered seats closer to the high tables, their delegations given longer audiences, their requests granted with fewer delays.
The Volkrin clan was not excluded from these exchanges, yet the tone differed. Where Nerathi envoys were met with ceremony, Volkrin messengers were greeted with efficiency. Supplies were exchanged, agreements signed, and departures made without extended conversation.
Within the Volkrin territory, the changes were noticed.
Caravans that once traveled in equal number toward all three lands now seemed to favor certain routes. Nerathi goods passed frequently through Aurevian gates, while Volkrin traders often waited longer for clearance along the same roads.
At first, the difference was small.
But differences repeated over time tend to become patterns.
During one council held in the Volkrin stronghold, the clan leader studied a map laid across a heavy stone table. Several routes had been marked in ink, their lines crossing toward the eastern valleys more than the western ridges.
One of his aides spoke quietly.
"The Nerathi caravans received escort through the plateau again."
The leader's gaze remained on the map.
"And ours?"
"They were delayed at the outer gate."
No further comment was made.
The meeting continued, discussing harvest counts and patrol rotations. Yet as the council ended, the Volkrin leader remained seated, his fingers resting on the inked lines that connected the three territories.
In the following year's Pidashin gathering, the competitions were closer than before. Nerathi champions performed with unusual coordination, their strategies refined and their formations practiced. They did not claim victory, but they placed ahead of the Volkrin in several trials.
During the feast that followed, conversation flowed more evenly across the table.
The Aurevian leader addressed the Nerathi head more often, asking about valley developments and recent constructions. At one point, he gestured toward a small crystal ornament placed before him.
"A gift from the valleys," he said.
The Nerathi leader acknowledged the remark with a slight bow.
Across from them, the Volkrin leader observed the exchange while cutting into his meal. He spoke little, though once he glanced toward the outer doors where Aurevian guards stood beside Nerathi attendants.
After the feast, the leaders dispersed as they had before.
In the months that followed, joint expeditions were announced between the Aurevian and Nerathi clans. Their scholars traveled together, studying energy currents that flowed beneath the land. New storage vaults were built along shared borders, and shipments of refined materials moved between their territories with increasing regularity.
The Volkrin clan continued its own operations. Their mines produced steadily, their forges burned day and night, and their soldiers trained along the black ridges.
Yet when requests were made for equal exchanges, responses arrived slowly.
On one occasion, a Volkrin envoy delivered a sealed letter to the Nerathi terraces. He was received courteously and offered refreshment while the message was read. When the reply came, it spoke of limited reserves and commitments already made.
Days later, the same envoy passed through an Aurevian outpost and saw several wagons bearing Nerathi markings being unloaded within the inner courtyard.
He said nothing.
The report he delivered upon returning home was brief.
At the next council, the Volkrin leader listened without interruption.
Outside the chamber, the sound of hammering from the forges echoed steadily. Workers hauled crates of ore across the yard, their movements practiced and efficient.
Inside, the leader finally rose from his seat.
"Continue production," he said.
No additional instructions followed.
Meanwhile, tensions did not openly surface. The three clans still met during shared ceremonies, still exchanged formal greetings, and still honored the Pidashin tradition.
But their interactions grew more measured.
During the ninth year gathering, the competitions ended without a clear dominance. Each clan claimed several victories. The final trial concluded as dusk fell, leaving the outcome balanced.
At the feast that night, the atmosphere felt quieter.
The Aurevian leader raised his cup, acknowledging the close results.
"Balance suits us," he remarked.
The Nerathi leader returned the gesture.
The Volkrin leader drank without speaking.
Later that evening, a discussion arose regarding the storage of surplus energy stones discovered near the central plains. The Aurevian and Nerathi leaders agreed to oversee the distribution jointly until further decisions could be made.
The Volkrin leader watched as the terms were written.
He nodded once.
No objection was recorded.
In the seasons that followed, the shared vaults expanded. Stones were transported under combined Aurevian and Nerathi escort, their numbers increasing steadily.
Volkrin caravans continued to arrive at the distribution points, yet allocations were often smaller than expected. Explanations referenced prior agreements, maintenance costs, and future plans.
Within the Volkrin stronghold, discussions became shorter.
Requests were replaced by adjustments. Training intensified. Patrol routes extended farther beyond their borders.
The Nerathi clan, meanwhile, focused on its growing influence. Their emissaries appeared more frequently beside Aurevian commanders. Their banners were seen along plateau roads, and their scholars worked within Aurevian archives.
During one quiet afternoon, the Nerathi leader stood on a balcony overlooking a joint expedition camp. Aurevian soldiers trained below, their formations precise. Beside them, Nerathi tacticians observed and offered suggestions.
The leader's gaze moved from the soldiers to the stacked crates of stones near the command tent.
He remained there for some time before turning away.
Not all members of his council shared the same comfort with these arrangements. Some raised concerns about the increasing imbalance between the three clans. Others proposed mediation.
The leader listened.
But no formal action followed.
Meetings ended without decisions.
Letters remained unwritten.
The exchanges between Aurevian and Nerathi continued.
By the tenth year, the separation had deepened.
Volkrin patrols encountered fortified outposts along routes once left open. Supply shipments were rerouted, explanations offered in measured language. Joint training exercises were announced without Volkrin participation.
The Volkrin leader reviewed each development with the same steady expression.
At last, a delegation was sent to request clarification.
They returned with assurances of cooperation and promises of future balance.
No dates were given.
Shortly afterward, Volkrin scouts reported an unusual movement near the central plains. Large reserves of stones had been relocated under heavy guard toward the plateau.
A council was called.
The Volkrin leader listened to the reports in silence.
When they finished, he stood.
"Prepare the outer divisions," he said.
No raised voices followed the order. Officers nodded and moved to carry out the instruction.
Across the land, preparations unfolded quietly.
Messengers rode through the night. Gates were reinforced. Supply lines were shortened.
The other clans noticed the movement.
Envoys were dispatched, seeking explanation.
Responses were brief.
The roads between the three territories, once crowded with traders and travelers, grew emptier.
Where shared banners had once hung, single colors now remained.
The year closed without a Pidashin gathering.
No announcement was made.
No invitations were sent.
The tradition that had bound the clans for generations passed silently into absence.
In the months that followed, the first confrontation occurred along the central plains. It began not with a declaration but with a halted caravan, a contested escort, and a line of soldiers that neither side chose to withdraw.
By dusk, the plain bore the marks of conflict.
By nightfall, messengers rode in all directions.
And across the land, the balance that had once been measured in games shifted into something else entirely.
Thus given birth to Greed, Sloth, Wrath in the heart of people who didn't know they were creating something more powerful than they could think of .