Suggested Listening Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nHf84N0Iu4
After the end of the Therion War, the King of El’Luul ended up with new territory; territory which included a good deal of new peoples: citizens of the Kingdom of Celerion. These humans were different from the Etranians, extremely proud and rightfully posessing great hatred of the Tlanta’tlan, with enmity still left over in their hearts from the last war. The flower of their youth had died on the battlefield, the pride of their families had been burnt in their houses, and the love of their nation had been gutted by a shark-man. Furthermore, the conquerors had often been Illians, a people with much hatred for the Celerian people and righteous grudges. Fired by the work of Alvine Grudge-Bearer, they were responsible for individual atrocities, horrible acts hidden in the woods and unknown to anyone but the smug panda-men. Riots, revenges, and deviant honor-killings continued, a cycle of revenge endlessly perpetuated.
First, the Kingdom had to restore order. It helped immensely that they were of the same government type, and of the same opinion to the government of the Celerian people--they went from one King to another. Gone were the Illians and their axe-brotherhoods, who made town doorsteps red at sundown, in their place were the reassuring humans of the Etranian Empire. Unlike the fluffy pandamen, these humans were at least understandable and could almost speak the language--and they didn’t seem too interested in scalping, or revenge killings. Conflict was driven off the streets and into the back rooms of taverns, then dragged to the jails and finally ended in public squares during inmate releases. Work cleaning streets and hauling rubble was a good way to remove some nationalist sentiments, and the replacement of Luulian guards with humans, followed by an installation of royal administrators from an area that had no regional ties. Swapping out the entire mid and upper level administrative system helped to interrupt the violence.
At the same time, the Crown committed several mainland regiments raised for order-keeping and occupation to the island, with the express purpose of protecting the settlers from each other. Several model Illian colonies were spread across the island, with very tight restrictions and extremely detailed planning to dictate their growth--and prevent conflict over land rights. The Kingdom had some basic goals: to divide up resources fairly, to ensure that those living on the island would have enough for a sufficiently good life, and to break down the tensions that had previously existed. The rule of law had to descend on the island, and it would need to be carefully nurtured.
But as law was nurtured, so would the people need to be. The Tlanta’tlan needed water, the Celerians needed toilets, both parties needed cheap fish, and there was still great mistrust and suspicion between the races and sub-races. In order to drain the abscess, the Kingdom needed to not only have the races get used to each other, but it needed to provide spaces for them to get to know each other without further acrimony. The Tlanta’tlan would often enjoy games, with large spaces for crowds of watchers, or hiking through the woods and on the beach, but the King had learned the hard way that the first was often a place for militarists to have fun. Others in the literary circles he frequented would bemoan having to leave the hiking trails after their parties became toxic and started discussing how the precious land should stay theirs and only theirs. From there, things would inventiably escalate to political meetings in teahouses, the police would be called...such a shame that one could not enjoy the great outdoors.
In order to make the population less inclined to continue killing each other, they needed three things: good entertainment with content that wouldn’t fan racist flames, a worthwhile job to do, and a home that is nice to live in. To this end, the Kingdom pursued a threefold plan: to lure trade by positioning a major entrepot in the island, to provide art that could be easily accessed by the entire community, and to build up infrastructure that would make life substantially easier for all. The first step was, oddly, easy enough. The Crown had put a good deal of effort into founding the Westerly Trade Company, and had thus carte blanche to determine major details about the company. This enabled them to place both the General Import Division, and the General Export Division on T’vanvil, what they had named the island. These two branches of the Westerly were involved in moving and distributing truly huge amounts of goods, many of which came from the Ariyadip lands and were destined for the larger cities within the Kingdom. Big cargoes, involved preservation steps, and even volatile compounds that needed to be kept a certain way in order to prevent explosions or decomposition. These entities employed vast amounts of peoples, and a very high percentage of the Celerians were employed working on docks, cranes, and short-range trains--still more were employed as clerks, accountants, inspectors, and cargo-packers in the shoreline factories. For a few, the islands’ economy boomed. For most, it had some good jobs to be done. Decent wages were available, and the docks swarmed with life as goods from the exotic West entered the Kingdom.
One of the traditional causes of destitution and lost wealth was an accident in the workplace, and the Kingdom had found over the last 25 years that providing for the common welfare by offering affordable healthcare are larger facilities and subsidizing existing providers had kept illness and injury from debilitating its’ citizens. In order to prevent racial resentment from emerging, and in line with a recent court case citing the ‘duty of care’ in regards to healthcare, the Kingdom opened up healthcare facilities to every person currently in the Kingdom--to a limited degree. Smaller towns would have at least two doctors and a clinic-like structure, they would also have a dedicated apothecary mixing up imported medicinal compounds and supporting a local pharmaceutical garden. Cases needing more advanced treatment would be evacuated by railroad to a regional hospital, and the most extreme cases life-flighted by owl-bear. The island would also have a shoregarden, stretching out into Ophons waters and tended by a blend of species that would all benefit from the medicines, glues, ropes, and sugars that could be got from the sea. Medicines from this shoregarden would be sent regularly to all points of care, ranging from painkillers and clotting agents to para-antibiotics. (1)
An overriding legal issue remained, and administration found itself sucked into a legal quagmire: were the Celerians on T’vanvil citizens of Celerion or El’Luul? The Kingdom decided that they were citizens of both, an interesting maneuver that prevented the administration from being dragged into numerous court battles. After a good deal of back and forth with the Kingdom of Celerion, and the probable assassination of various lawyers, the deal was ratified. Celerians born on T’vanvil would have citizenship of both realms, with the rights and responsibilities owed to both. A question of conflict or war was swept under the carpet; hopefully nothing of that nature would occur again. However, there was the question of levying and drafting persons, which would eventually be solved as allowable in court, and when Celerion had one of its’ brushfire wars, some it’s citizens were called home. But in the meantime, many thorny issues were papered over. The Kingdom of El’Luul could admit the Celerians to the communal latrines, and the Celerians could have their teeth pulled with excess enthusiasm.
There was one thing that the Kingdom did that would win it fairly wide praise. Schooling was integrated into one system, with curricula sent in from afar, and students were taught in both Celerian and Iollian. These schools accepted children straight from the creche at age 5, and by 49 C.E all children on the island were attending primary school. Homeschooling was ruled illegal by the state sign-Duke, and students were taught history that prevented a mostly unbiased result of the war. Crucially, it prevented the teaching of local racisms to children, making the construction of lost cause mythii much less able, and gave the children a good foundation in mathematics, geography, writing, art, and handling technology. This melting pot would come to be one of the earlier testing grounds for childhood psychology and mixed-classroom techniques, and would supercede previous establishments including religious education.
At the same time, the Kingdom engaged in propaganda and counter-propaganda in another way: through the deliberate consolidation of entertainment outlets and the control of their content. The islands’ stone was quarried and made into large amphitheaters; the plays shown here conspicuously bear of nationalist sentiment, or things that would cause frustration or anti-government sentiment. Lighted by arc lights and magic lantern shows, and channeled by beautiful acoustics, they presented educational and wholesome spectacle. Instead, many of the plays put on were positive science fiction or romance shows, and sometimes the stage was given over to a ‘experiences comedian’ who wrote humor that bridged the lines of species. Crucially, events that could spark racial tension, especially sporting groups, were quietly run into the ground by zoning commissions that the Crown had infiltrated. Similarly, hiking groups and nature preservation clubs, which could lead to jealous protection of the land from those they did not like, were carefully rolled up and brought into dedicated centers for nature preservation and enjoyment.
These would be Arboretum of T’van’vil, a regional hub of biodiversity and an impressive center of tree-based research. Incorporating species from all over the world in that longitude, the Arboretum would sponsor everything from proliferation programs via cutting and cloning to deeper studies in system-level ecology. Visitors of all ages, from all walks of life, could wander its’ safe and information-lined trails. They would come to relax, to learn, and to appreciate the beauty of nature. A great many were Celerians, there to work for twenty or so years, and then return to their homeland. Often, they brought with them a tree from the Arboretum.
At the same time, the Kingdom commissioned a Solaria. Designed explicitly for pleasure and public education, this glass-ceiling paradise protected the plants of the northern jungles against the snow, and the flowers of the summer against the wind. It had wide promenades and spacious seating areas, allowing for displays of foliage and great beauty to be looked upon, and guided tours were run on weekdays. On specific worship and feast days, the Solarium was a site of general festivities on its’ grounds, where the public would come to picnic and attend lectures. And then they built another one, by public subscription--the Eight Corners Solarium. Spread out over eight different buildings and two college campuses, this solarium was designed for public access and education. While it did not attempt to cultivate many more difficult plants, this solarium was always filled with schoolchildren and tour groups, and it was known for its’ classes that were open to the public. Work was done to link hiking groups to its’ halls, and various citizens were engaged to take samples and chart growth zones, aiding understanding at a young age. Later on, a program was developed to employ those who were old and about to age out of the workforce in preparing samples and other simple scientific tasks. Delicate hands could still be useful, and they were especially important in the third Solarium to be established: the Solaria Akademika. Founded in part by the Sign-Duke as he sought to give the areas’ university a strong scientific base, it was supported by local communities via subscription and by university funding; eventually a royal grant was received. This Solarium was founded in conjuction with a herbarium and an electrical experimentation station; it would be one of the first in the world to maintain a ‘kitchen’ with data publicly available. This public data also revealed something else: that many of these plants were being cultivated for medicinal products, and increasing spaces in Solaria were turned over to a medical system that were struggling under the weight of many diverse patients with differing medical needs. Investors were rounded up, and despite their reluctance to part with their money, cajoled into creating the first industrial solarium. Endless rows of greenhouses were built, their innards filled with varieties of medicinal plants, and small rail lines made to bring raw materials to the fertilizer and soil processing centers. Besides the small factories devoted to making bricks and tiles, refineries and medicinal labs sought to breed better plants, extract medicines more effectively, and produce better formulations. Alongside the opening of the local shoregarden, T’van’vil would receive the medicines needed to treat its’ population in bulk from the sea and land.
In order to meet the rising challenge, the Tlanta’tlan on the island did something that they were otherwise very loathe to do: they engaged in a syncretism of culture and approach to solving the issue. The lessons from the Veterans’ Hospital were blindingly obvious; doctors from multiple species could ignore the afflictions that would strike down others and tend to injured in ways that others’ could not. Combination and cooperation were the way forward, and the regional architecture began to reflect that. Starting from the ground floor, most of the buildings were built in a Celerian fashion, using exposed wooden beams to provide structural support and internal beauty and featuring wide windows to provide lighting and easy air access. Under the street, the buildings became remarkebly Luulian, revealing stone and concrete supports, underfloor heating and cool channels, and ice stores.
As the buildings grew higher, they became treehouses--large trees grown in special fenced-off gardens supported multiple upper levels, and Illian rope-bridges and treerooms festooned denser cities, cutting urban heat. The Celerian people loved trees, and when they went to pray to God in private prayer rooms, they would look out on the foliage and admire the beauty of creation. Contemplation booths emerged in private buildings for workers and those who lived there, with a small library of selected texts for reading. Eventually, a small group of tight-knit Celerians in the medical profession began to make their mark on society, as well as an understory of lower-levels human servants. These two would write their own histories, commission biographies and writing songs that would far outlast them.
In the meantime, T’van’vil became the site of some of the worlds’ most effective integrated healthcare at the time. After the success after the ICI in producing vaccinations across populations, another vaccine production center was established to service those down south. Specially-bred cows and horses were used to produce antitoxin, and specially produced vials were able to store some of the inocula for a much longer time. Protections against springrake, against smallpox, or the disease of shining fur were all boiled up in living vessels, bled, and made into treatments and cures. Large hospitals sprouted, regional centers of treatment and bulwarks against disease emerging from foreign lands. Eventually, these medicines would be sent with the ships venturing out west. Striking a balance, the Tlanta’tlan were able to hold back that which would kill them.
Overall, the island of T’van’vil was a success. Much money had been sunk into it, more manpower been assigned here, and the Kingdom had taken a good deal of time to rid the island of those it considered undesirable elements and secure its’ ideological toehold. There would be an enduring portion of red in the balancesheet for decades to come, and successive sign-Dukes would find it hard to be able to maintain their balances for quite some time. However, the Kingdom had succeeded in making the island a stable, secure, and pleasant place to live, ensuring that no racial violence would ever break out again. The sacrifice for this had consumed much of the original culture that had been brought with the settlers, but it was either that or a repeating tithe of flesh that would seed itself ever deeper into the soil. Ultimately, the Kingdom of El’Luul had decided to pay the latter.
- Do not take para-antibiotics if you are pregnant, nursing, planning to become pregnant, or have a condition that prevent nail or bone growth, or a condition that prevents blood from clotting properly. DO NOT CONSUME FOR PROPHYLAXIS!
Submitted September 12, 2019 at 09:58PM by OceansCarraway https://ift.tt/30cByhO
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