Before the Storm: Act 1, Chapter 6
Chapter 6
“I didn’t pay any mind to this before,” Frianne said, “but isn’t this town too big to be called a town?”
“When compared to the towns that one usually sees in the region, yes.”
Clara’s reply was so nonchalant that Frianne nodded absently for a second before forcefully stopping herself. It didn’t take long to see that Corelyn Harbour was far from a normal town, but the fact that its residents didn’t appear to treat it as anything special made her question her own sanity.
Perhaps the trick lay in how conventional any one part of the town was. A plaza full of stands; a guild office; a row of workshops along the street – every component of the urban landscape was familiar. As Frianne saw more and more of the place, however, she steadily came to understand that it was far more than the sum of its parts. What she still couldn’t grasp was the full extent of that whole and how it came together.
At the same time, something deep within her understood. Everything that she saw felt intuitively correct and that was the part that probably unsettled her the most. She felt that she could never get lost. She knew where everything was roughly supposed to be, to the point where she could guess what was around the corner even though she had never been there before. Above all else, there was a sense of safety and harmony shared by everyone around her.
Is it some sort of enchantment laid over the entire area? I’ve never heard of the like, if so.
Just before they reached the town’s palatial administrative centre, Clara brought them north to follow a lane up into one of the residential districts. Frianne turned around at the gatehouse atop the incline to look out over the town centre.
“Everything feels so idyllic,” she said. “But I don’t understand why.”
“Did you grow up in Arwintar?” Clara asked.
“I was born and raised in the imperial centre,” Frianne answered with a nod. “But, compared to here, everything there feels so…”
Cold? Sterile? Distant?
She finally pinned down the feeling that she got from the place. It was similar to the villages her group passed through during their promotional examination.
“I see,” Frianne murmured. “The residents of Corelyn Harbour aren’t urbanites. Not only do they behave differently from city folk, but the town is designed to accommodate that behaviour.”
“That didn’t take long at all,” Clara smiled slightly.
Frianne turned back around and they resumed walking.
“The town was recently chartered,” Frianne said, “and the residents are spares that came in from the surroundings. But that can’t explain everything.”
“It doesn’t,” Clara said, “but it made for an excellent foundation to build on. In our day and age, where towns and cities are well past the dates of their founding, certain expectations and modes of thought have been established. Rather than blindly emulate them, I took the opportunity to avoid what I consider mistakes.”
“And what do you consider mistakes?”
“Anything that results in unnecessary stratification, to begin with. That’s one of the defining traits of towns and cities, isn’t it? They are concentrations of wealth generated by the surrounding territories and their resulting commerce, yet, at the same time, they are where the greatest disparity of wealth is experienced.
“Arwintar is probably the greatest example of that in the region. The city’s districts categorise people by their means and dictate the quality of life that one is allowed to enjoy. The residents of the First-class District possess more wealth than the rest of the city combined a hundred thousand times over. They live in palatial estates, receive the attention of ninety per cent of the city’s security, and have priority access to all of the amenities and luxuries they need and desire.
“The average resident of one of the Fourth-class Districts, on the other hand, must share a run down, twenty square metre apartment with their entire family, receive no attention at all from city security, only have access to the lowest quality food, can’t even secure a stable daily wage, and can’t afford basic health care from the Temples. I fear to imagine what would happen if a fire broke out and I am compelled to ask what merits these people possess to deserve their state of squalor.”
“That’s hardly a fair question to pose to me,” Frianne said. “It was already like that over a century before I was born. Things are literally set in stone.”
“Does that mean you are forever beholden to the past?” Clara asked, “Will it mean that more Arwintars will be created in the future? How long will the Empire last if it insists on fashioning its future out of the errors of the past?”
“Change will not come easily,” Frianne said. “You are talking about a culture with over eight million peoples’ worth of inertia behind it.”
“Governance isn’t known for being easy. Those in power who believe that it is are doing something wrong. There will be many opportunities to bring about change. If you wait for them to present themselves before you start, however, it will most likely be too late.”
That much, at least, was one of the fundamentals of good rule. It could be applied to most things, for that matter. The problem was that governance was nine parts maintenance and one part leadership. Leading in the way that Clara described involved competing for scarce resources that were usually prioritised for the former.
“This may be so,” Frianne said, “but it entails joining the hundred-way battle between the institutions of the Empire. Even as the Head Imperial Court Mage, I’ve only been able to increase the Imperial Ministry of Magic’s budget by making common cause with other imperial factions.”
“Then why not employ the same tactics?” Clara asked.
“Because I’ve only succeeded once,” Frianne answered. “I proposed the expansion of the Imperial Army’s Corps of Engineers – specifically the recruitment and training of more mages – which the Imperial Army was all too happy to support. It wasn’t hard convincing everyone else, as there is a huge backlog of public works projects as well as a need for increased engineering capacity with the unprecedented expansion of the imperial frontier. Addressing cultural and economic issues that no one considers issues – indeed the administration considers them favourable – will be seen as nothing more than a waste of the Court Council’s time.”
“But there are allies for said cultural and economic issues, yes?”
“There are?”
“The highlords of the Imperial Court Council itself,” Clara told her. “Specifically the members of the civilian aristocracy.”
Frianne’s frown grew dire at the implications of Clara’s suggestion.
“That would be a good way to get my head removed from my shoulders,” Frianne said. “My cousin has spent the last decade stripping the aristocratic establishment of its power and influence. What you propose would be doing the exact opposite. If anything, the Emperor would consider it a betrayal. All of House Gushmond might be purged for it.”
“…are the accounts of the Emperor’s genius little more than imperial propaganda?”
“No,” Frianne replied, “but my cousin is a product of his circumstances. He is accustomed to being in control and suffers no challenges to that control. Additionally, he is more than a bit single-minded when it comes to achieving his objectives, pursuing them to the detriment of everything else. He himself knows this, yet he simply accepts it for what it is.”
“Then let us see how we can align our objectives to his, shall we? I can’t imagine that you haven’t considered it, but we may be able to open new avenues for you.”
Logically speaking, it was the best and only way. The Emperor was extraordinarily shrewd, however. Swaying him wasn’t so simple as saying so.
“I bet if we convince Lady Albedo to deliver a vaguely worded suggestion,” Liane said, “every proposal would just fly through after that.”
“Except that wouldn’t get us any closer to our long-term goals,” Clara told her. “Being arbitrary doesn’t ensure that any measures enacted will be sustainable for the long term.”
As they walked along, pedestrians bobbed their heads in greeting. They undoubtedly knew who Clara was, yet there was no semblance of formality beyond that. Frianne watched the people and their surroundings carefully, but all she could figure out was that the town had stopped looking like a town. If anything, it looked more like a vast field where clusters of houses were built around newly-planted copses and windbreaks. She looked around to see whether they had left the town without her realising it, but it barely took her a moment to spot Corelyn Harbour’s second, larger wall with its banners fluttering in the wind.
“What sort of residential district is this?” Frianne asked, “It looks more like a collection of rural villages than a proper set of city blocks.”
“You’re not wrong,” Clara answered, “but the area looks like a collection of villages because of the effect I’m trying to achieve rather than purposely constructing villages within the town’s limits. It’s related to what I mentioned about fixing the problems that I’ve noted with cities. One of the features that seemingly comes hand in hand with the high degree of economic and social stratification is that people feel the need to build walls.”
“Walls? As in the security that one finds in Arwintar’s First and Second-class districts?”
“Yes and no. Urbanites put up ‘walls’ seemingly as a matter of course. For the most part, it’s due to the notion that they must protect themselves against their fellow citizens.”
“And that’s wrong?”
“It’s natural to desire security and a degree of privacy,” Clara said. “But, somewhere in the transition to city life, people seem to lose their sense of it. Threats become larger than they are in reality and may not even exist at all. A shadow falls over one’s thinking, making the world a lonelier, more callous place.”
“Cities and towns are far more populous,” Frianne noted. “Statistically speaking, attempting to live as one would in a village is guaranteed to see one assaulted or robbed at some point.”
“Corelyn Harbour hasn’t had a single assault or robbery since its founding,” Clara told her. “Neither has Warden’s Vale. One might argue that the presence of the Undead is an extreme deterrent, but petty crime isn’t completely unknown in E-Rantel or the other towns in the duchy.”
“Then what do you propose the true problem is?”
Clara stopped to stand on the grass at the side of the road, watching one of the village-like collections of homes. The homes themselves were quite large – roughly the same size as a wealthy Merchant’s home in the Second-class District of Arwintar. It was late in the afternoon, and many homemakers were out in their shared yards, chatting amicably with their neighbours while making preparations for the evening.
“A combination of issues,” Clara replied. “What I consider the most grave are the ones that develop over time. Humans number among the races that aren’t mysteriously born with specific knowledge, nor do they possess the internal logic of Elementals, Undead, or other creatures of a highly magical nature. I understand that some may take offence at the comparison, but we are something like beasts. Humans possess higher intelligence than a cow or a wolf, but that intelligence turns into something like a curse as we innovate and advance our civilisation.”
“How so?”
“Our ‘bestial’ selves do not advance along with our civilisation. Without protocols to reconcile what one experiences with one’s nature, one becomes increasingly lost and reverts to savage interpretations of the world.”
“But the Imperial Administration does attempt to guide its citizens away from acting according to their base instincts,” Frianne said.
“Yes, but those attempts fall woefully short because they are structured around the needs of the Empire as an economic and political entity rather than as a society. The Empire creates criminal laws and legal regulations in order to achieve the desired objectives of the Imperial Administration, leaving everything else to chance. The only tools that the Empire employs are the honey and the whip. It is a reductive and highly inefficient methodology symptomatic of a society that doesn’t understand itself. You have stopped thinking in the mistaken belief that you know everything.”
Frianne gestured to the cluster of homes and their residents.
“Then how is this superior to conventional urban design?”
“It combats the tendency for conventional urban design to inadvertently create the ‘other’,” Clara replied. “Humans are both social and territorial. In an urban setting, one’s contributions to society usually don’t involve the direct production of critical resources or territorial security. Yet, we continue to behave as if it is still the case. The wealthy create ‘territories’ in the form of estates or higher-end residences and pay for as much security as they think they need. Everyone else is restricted to the homes that they can afford. Those homes take the place of ‘territory’ and they do what they can to secure it.
“This results in the ‘walls’ that I refer to. I’m not saying that one cannot have their own home: what is important is that the subconscious behaviour and thought processes that are initiated as a result lead to mounting social issues. Physical boundaries faclitate the creation of social boundaries and those, in turn, lead to behaviours inherent to Human nature that are not conducive to an advanced civilisation.
“We Humans instinctively recognise threats first and prioritise addressing them as a matter of survival. If a home in the city becomes a ‘territory’, the ‘threat’ becomes everyone that an individual doesn’t recognise as part of their ‘tribe’. Residents in the First and Second-class Districts of Arwintar ‘naturally’ see the residents of the Third and Fourth-class Districts of the city as threats to their safety and wealth even when they usually aren’t. Residents of the Third and Fourth-class Districts of the city see those in the same situation as themselves as ‘competitors’, and when those ‘competitors’ exist outside of the ‘tribe’, they become potential enemies.
“Social isolation leaves one trapped in a cage of their own fears and preconceptions. Bad news travels more quickly than good and outweighs it by far. News of a murder in Arwintar will reach the ears of the citizens, but the fact that everyone else went about their usual business without being killed does not register. As time goes on, this sort of thing gives rise to a culture of paranoia that creates the very issues that it fears. The terrible situation that people imagine themselves to be in becomes the new ‘normal’, and that ‘normal’ informs their behaviour. The resulting society becomes highly vulnerable to demagoguery, misinformation, and propaganda because it is no longer grounded by reality.”
Frianne considered Clara’s words. It was easy for people to identify ‘problems’ and blame them for one thing or the other, and doing so was something of a collective pastime in the Imperial Administration. Most of the time, however, such discussion led nowhere. Ideas were cheap, after all.
“So what you’re doing with this residential district seeks to counter what you described,” Frianne said.
“Since most of my people are already close to where they should be behaviourally,” Clara said. “You could say that it instead reinforces the desired status quo. Those most at risk are the artisans living in the town centre’s shophouses. Making sure the people that they interact with spread the attitudes of a highly connected and tightly-knit community that knows its members has the effect of balancing things out. Of course, any urbanites that move in from elsewhere will have their customary insular nature quickly eroded away.”
“And if a crime occurs anyway?”
“Then it occurs,” Clara shrugged. “It is better than planting the seeds for a hundred thousand crimes in an effort to mitigate the effects of one.”
“Somehow,” Frianne muttered, “I don’t think the urbanites of the Empire would be amenable to this sort of layout.”
“I’m sure the poor majority would appreciate it,” Clara said. “Oh, speaking of which, Corelyn Harbour’s districts are not divided by economic strata. The vast majority live in this same residential district you see before you where the living standards are roughly uniform. The remainder are shop owners living above their stores and workshops with their families.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Frianne said, “a certain Countess dwells in a palace on a ludicrously fortified island.”
“My people see me often enough,” Clara replied with a smile. “Plus, you should understand that there are certain aspects of a ruler’s image that are better maintained with a bit of distance.”
“In other words,” Ludmila said, “if her subjects saw the slovenly private life she leads, the Radiant Jewel of the Riverlands would lose all of its lustre and Corelyn Harbour would fall to anarchy.”
Clara swatted her friend so quickly that Frianne couldn’t quite follow the attack. Ludmila, for her part, didn’t even flinch.
“It’s not slovenly,” Clara pouted. “It’s ‘comfy’.”
“Do you agree with Clara, Ludmila?” Frianne asked.
“I believe that what she’s said so far is generally sound,” Ludmila answered. “She neglects to mention some important things, however.”
“Such as?”
“Humans are not the only race that is subject to what she described. Any race with a social component to their nature can fall victim to the same or similar issues – even Undead beings like Vampires. In their own respective ways, of course.”
Frianne scanned the surroundings looking for any sign of Demihumans.
“The resident population is almost entirely Human here,” Clara said. “We’re trying to avoid incidents with visitors from the Theocracy – particularly when it comes to Demihumans. The only Demihuman population in the area is the Harpy colony living on the south side of the island, which most people cannot reach.”
“I see…”
“Additionally,” Ludmila said, “Clara hasn’t mentioned all of the little details that go into maintaining and advancing the social system she oversees here.”
“I was getting to that,” Clara said. “We’ll be going around and back down to the eastern plaza where the public school is.”
“What about the foresters?” Ludmila asked.
Clara rolled her eyes.
“…of course you would bring up the foresters. The grass doesn’t grow itself, you know.”
“I’ve never once said that,” Ludmila’s lips turned down ever so slightly.
“This town has foresters?” Frianne asked.
“Maintaining an environment that residents find pleasant is the product of persistent effort,” Ludmila said. “Most cities I’ve been to are in such a terrible state that I’m fairly certain that the residents go through their entire lives never realising that grass is supposed to be green. They even cry when they see what the world is supposed to look like.”
“It’s not that bad,” Clara said.
“Every boatful of migrants to Warden’s Vale does that.”
“So you’re saying that this entire town has…groundskeepers?” Frianne asked.
Ludmila snorted.
“They are so much more than mere groundskeepers. The foresters in Corelyn Harbour are fully-fledged Rangers recruited from around Corelyn County. As a whole, they serve a similar role to their rural counterparts, creating and maintaining a healthy urban environment. Urban Rangers, so to speak.”
Were Rangers so easy to find? As far as Frianne understood it, the Imperial Army struggled to find even one in each tonwn and city and had to train the rest from scratch.
“What does that entail, exactly?”
“Ludmila often forgets that most Humans don’t speak Ranger,” Clara said. “Functionally speaking, they are responsible for the condition of the fledgeling ‘forest’ you see planted in the residential district much like they would be responsible for managing productive woodland in rural territories. Additionally, they monitor soil and water quality, ensure that sanitation is efficient and non-hazardous, and keep up the overall appearance of the district. They also raise a selection of livestock suited for the space, such as fowl, goats, and fish stocked in the ponds and streams.”
“When possible,” Ludmila added, “we’d like to employ Druids and incorporate their talents and magic into the town’s management, as well.”
Frianne boggled over the implementation of Rangers into the town. As far as she understood things, Rangers were warriors with a kinship to nature that preferred to stay away from developed lands. What they were doing in Corelyn Harbour was something like turning the city into the wilderness and she wasn’t sure if that made any sense. It certainly defied every convention of land utilisation that she knew of – she could almost hear the screeching of the bureaucrats back at home if she decided to relate her findings with them.
Never mind that, independent Rangers and Druids in general were considered pests by the Empire because they constantly opposed – oftentimes violently – imperial expansion. The Empire hired workers to get rid of them more often than they employed them as Adventurers.
“I don’t think this will work in the Empire,” Frianne said. “The Empire’s developmental paradigms run entirely on state-approved metrics. The Imperial Administration will always favour measurable efficiency over aesthetics and vague, holistic notions.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Ludmila said. “For the Empire, that is.”
“In that case,” Clara hurriedly moved the discussion forward, “we’ll just have to wait until there are some numbers to present. The data may take the better part of a decade to collect and analyse, however. As you may have surmised, Corelyn Harbour is something like a laboratory filled with experiments in urban planning and cultural engineering. The Sorcerous Kingdom is far more open to such things than the Empire.”
That was one thing that didn’t make much sense. Based on the Court Council’s long-distance interactions with Prime Minister Albedo, Frianne was certain that she was similar to the Emperor in terms of cold, calculating practicality. It was hard to imagine that she would be open to much of what was happening in Corelyn Harbour.
Is it because they can easily afford to experiment? No, that can’t be right. There must be something else going on here – something like unprecedented knowledge or a blind spot for those raised in imperial culture.
“If the Empire isn’t willing to rock the boat, so to speak,” Ludmila said, “why not spearhead a project in a place where they won’t mind?”
“I’m uncertain where that might be,” Frianne replied.
“The Empire is preparing to rapidly expand its frontier. You’ll have any number of new settlements to choose from.”
How much did she know? No, it would be strange for the Sorcerous Kingdom to not know what its client state was up to. Especially since it was a colossal strategic effort that was hard to miss for those with access to the relevant information. What she still couldn’t figure out was how much information Ludmila had access to. She had served as a liaison officer to two Imperial Army Groups, but that role may not have ended with the end of the Sixth Army Group’s brief campaign in the south.
“What’s takin’ so long?”
Liane and Dimoiya appeared from one of the ‘villages’, munching on what looked like sandwiches.
“You’re one of the wealthiest Nobles in the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Ludmila said. “Must you eat other peoples’ dinners?”
“Hey, they invited us over! It’s supposed to be all warm and fuzzy here, isn’t it?”
Ludmila peered at Liane, who moved to use Dimoiya as a shield.
“She’s right, though,” Dimoiya said. “Everyone’s so friendly here! I couldn’t help but think they were trying to sell me something, but then I just got free stuff. If it’s like this everywhere in the Sorcerous Kingdom, I’m going to really hound the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to hurry up with that ambassadorial post.”
“It’s not, unfortunately,” Clara replied. “Not yet, at least. In terms of citizen attitudes, most of the duchy north of here is still similar to what one would normally experience in Re-Estize or the Empire.”
“At least it’s not like Ludmila’s territory,” Liane said. “They’re constantly at war with one another down there.”
“War…?”
“It’s a specific area within my territory,” Ludmila said. “The Upper Reaches of the Katze River is a special administrative zone where the cultural practices of the natives aren’t interfered with. This includes seasonal activities such as warfare. It’s nothing extravagant, of course – just threat displays, raids, and contests between champions for the purposes of securing choice territories or enforcing existing borders.”
“That’s, uh, really different from here,” Dimoiya said.
“On the contrary,” Ludmila replied. “Both my and Clara’s territories pursue the same objectives, and the peoples of the Upper Reaches are surprisingly uniform, culturally speaking. I can show you around if you’d like.”
“N-no, it’s fine! I’ll take your word for it…”
Try as she might, Frianne was just as confused as Dimoiya looked about Ludmila’s assertions.
With dinner being prepared all across the residential district, their party was accosted by a seemingly endless obstacle course of its denizens. Fortunately, they didn’t expect her to eat a thousand meals in a row. The locals happily chatted with everyone, not just Clara. It was an odd experience for Frianne – not even when she was a student at the Imperial Magic Academy would random people so casually approach her.
By the time they escaped from the residential district, twilight had already fallen on Corelyn Harbour. Unlike most towns, ample magical lighting illuminated the streets and the activity of the markets only seemed amplified compared to the day. They slowly made their way through the crowds, walking along the edge of the eastern plaza as the energy of the place washed over them.
“I hear a lot of Theocracy accents,” Frianne said.
“Merchants and travellers from the Theocracy won’t come close to E-Rantel,” Clara told her, “so Corelyn Harbour is their main market in the Sorcerous Kingdom. After that, they head straight to the Empire or Re-Estize. Since nearly everyone here worships the Six Great Gods, they treat it as they would the Theocracy’s portion of the riverlands.”
“Is it much different?” Frianne asked, “Their part of the Riverlands, I mean.”
“There are certain differences,” Clara said, “but the industries and customs are practically the same. At least when it comes to interactions between Humans.”
Clara turned away from the scenes of the vibrant marketplace and gestured to the buildings along the east side of the eastern plaza.
“This is the school that you were referring to?” Frianne asked.
“That’s right,” Clara smiled.
“I thought we would have had to return in the morning,” Frianne said, “but it looks just as active as the rest of the plaza.”
She couldn’t see through the walls, but the windows were brightly lit and plenty of movement could be seen within. School – be it temple school, a workshop filled with apprentices, or the Imperial Magic Academy – usually ended by mid-afternoon.
“Classes are busiest at this time of day,” Clara told her.
“Curious,” Frianne looked up at the rows of windows. “Why is that?”
“It’s as I said, is it not?” Clara replied, “If there is no equity in education, then there is no equity of opportunity. I have no intention of leaving anyone behind.”
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