One hundred and thirteen years after the end of the Sword Saints War, it seemed as if the scars of war were beginning to heal, and the common people had begun to forget the incalculable bloodshed that had just occurred barely over a century ago.
To that end many of the nation-states on the Continent have been pushing for events to foster international goodwill and cooperation— and the occupational guilds themselves had independently arrived at the same conclusion, that such initiatives were needful. And so, I, a page of the Historians’ Guild was sent to a symposium of the Horticulturists’ Guild.
The Scholarchs of the 12 most powerful states on the Continent have been sent here, and I have been invited to record any interesting or noteworthy discussions between them. If you’re interested in a more unabridged account, you can consult the 83rd1 annual publication of the Historians’ Guilds journals. Many people believe that the emissaries of the Historians’ Guild only show up to these functions in order to partake of food and drink without having to pay dues to each and every organisation, but I would ask you fair reader, to read my testimony of this night and tell me if my filling my belly were undeserved.
The happenings at this event were largely unnoteworthy, and as far as I could tell were limited to idle gossip and chatter between the Scholarchs from neighbouring countries who were already (beforehand), or had already (after many of these symposiums) become friends. Many of the Scholarchs and delegates from the coastal and otherwise more far-removed states tried to break up these cliquish conversations to little success, however as the evening wound down there was one of these people who was met with success.
Felix, the Scholarch of the Tajshano Horticulturalists’ Guild seemed to be universally beloved by the attendants, and this was unusual, but not as unusual as he himself was. His appearance was ethereal, ghastly even. Despite his tall frame and broad shoulders, the rest of him seemed to be “dainty” and unthreatening, his skin was a whiter shade of pale than most Angloids were accustomed to, and due to this there were many rumours in the international community about what sort of plants the Horticulturists’ Guild in Tajsha was focused on growing, and to what extent they cooperated with their local Apothecaries’ Guild, but this was hypocritical as most countries’ Horticulturalists’ and Apothecaries’ Guilds were closely aligned and this was something that was well-documented in both 1st party literature and the literature of the Historians’ Guild.
It was him who eventually broke up everyone else’s discussions and focused/united the attention of the room into a single focal point. However after some basic salutations and small talk, he turned the conversation in a strange direction. After getting the participants to gather outside under the moonlit sky with their conversations over and their drinks in hand, he addressed them thusly:
“Have any among you ever spent any time thinking about the stars?”
And this was met with confusion as this was a gathering of Horticulturalists and not Astronomers, and much of the indistinct murmuring after his statement seemed to echo this sentiment.
Necessarily, Felix continued to try and maintain their attention:
“I know what you’re all thinking, that this is a strange inquiry and unbecoming of such a gathering as this— and perhaps you would be right, but I ask you this not as an Horticulturalist, but as an ordinary man. You see, my best friend is the analytical type and we’ve spent many a long drunken night arguing over the significance of the stars in the sky— so in the spirit of fellowship I though I would probe you all for your own thoughts and opinions.”
This crowd (if they could be called that as a dozen of people sitting in a semicircle) seemed satisfied with this explanation and the participants all seemed to be ruminating on Felix’s words.
First the closest person on Felix’s right, the Scholarch representing Fennario’s Guild began to speak:
“In my country the thoughts about the stars are diverse and vary widely from person to person, but my thinking about them is mostly limited to finding them beautiful. I enjoy drinking under a starry sky with friends as we are right now.”
This seemed to be a great icebreaker as everyone present energetically responded, expressing approval or empathy with those sentiments. The 2nd nearest Scholarch seemed eager to speak up himself. So he, the representative from Cumberland began:
“It warms my heart to hear such a peaceful account from our brother in Fennario, and I’m happy to say that for many of us in Cumberland it is the same. Our lives are dominated by fatalism[^2], resignation, and cynicism (in the worst sense), but most of us when we’ve finished toiling and have naught else to do will drink heavily of ale and lie on the grass and look at the stars. What we feel in those moments is not resignation or hopelessness, but comfort and love. Perhaps the love of the same Mother that you all worship in Tajsha, Felix. So answer me this, what did you have in mind when introduced a topic as nebulous as this? I can’t imagine that a clever bastard such as yourself wouldn’t have had a speech prepared beforehand”
Felix was amused by this, and responded with laughter. He asked the other Scholarchs and delegates if anyone had anything else they’d like to add before he continued speaking himself, and nobody had anything to add. Thusly he continued unobstructed:
“You see, friends, the reason we’re gathered here today is because the people in our positions before us were fearful of what would happen if we didn’t know each other as we did now, and began to see one another as strangers or ‘others’. All of us with life in some shape or form, with soil, and our gazes are ever fixed on the land and on each other. We often think of climates and agronomy, trade routes, what is possible and impossible for us to grow ourselves, and in those contexts it’s possible that we may begin to think of ourselves, our lands, or our nations as exceptional. It is precisely that, that I’d like to counsel you all against. You see, as the Scholarch of the Guild in Tajsha, I have to rely on trade in order to secure most of the resources necessary to do my job, which both keeps me humble and encourages me to be mindful of the strengths and weaknesses of others.”
Felix paused for moment to look up at the stars, before he continued:
“In my country they say that what you see in the stars is what you see in your future. Whether to you they represent a sterile oblivion, merely the smouldering ashes of Genesis, or worlds full of possibility. Recently that’s how I’ve come to think of them myself, as worlds beyond our understanding with people and nations and gods of their own. And why would an empiricist such as myself entertain such an idea without any evidence or reason? The answer is because otherwise we would be exceptional, and to me that is unthinkable. The peoples, nations, and gods of Vaargnign cannot be the only to exist in this universe, because if this the best the universe can do, then I’m ashamed to live in it.”
A few participants gasped, but the Scholarchs representing Fennario and Cumberland were nodding in agreement.
“We’ve inherited such a beautiful Continent with such a rich bounty, and even now we continue to bicker and squabble, and I fear that soon we’ll be forced to endure another age of bloodshed. Because of this I choose to believe that the light we bask in now is not merely the sterile glow of ashes or planetary lamps, but a light infused with the love and the hopes of others who live like us.”
Thus concluded Felix’s speech. It seemed to be well-received although a few of the participants appeared to be irritated by his waxing poetic. He would later receive a formal censure from the guild for soapboxing.
Footnotes
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The Historians’ Guild as we know it was only founded 30 years after the great war ↩