Later half of June 1615 Central Calendar
Eyes of the Order, Holy Milishial Empire
Magister Sorath the Illuminator’s private office within a certain place belonging to the Order of the Ancients took the appearance of a spacious two-story library filled with small tables, leather chairs, and sofas, along with a projector and a white canvas standing in one of its corners. Overall, its aesthetic was fashioned in a style popular in the late 1500s era that took the woman behind the mask’s fancy out of all the decades that she had lived throughout the High Imperial Era.
Dark blue wallpaper with an elegant white pattern adorned the walls, complemented by wooden panels and a gallery of paintings with ornately carved frames. Sorath’s desk stood at the center of the room, placed upon a red patterned carpet. The surface of the desk was another tableau of curiosities, from a sailing ship in a bottle to other intriguing ornaments that took a portion of its free space. Flanking the desk, two staircases ascended to the mezzanine floor on each side. While this office was windowless just like the office of Sorath’s fellow Magisters, she had taken the trouble to transform her workspace into a presentable suite for a select number of visitors required to report to her presence in contrast to, for example, Eblis the Summoner and his nondescript office.
One can say that in the end, it was a reflection of Sorath’s personal preferences, and they will not be persecuted for pointing it out. Other than being one of the leaders of an ancient keeper of the great tree that is the Holy Empire, the face behind Sorath was that of a woman of many, many interests.
With a piece of instrumental music from an even older time period playing to banish the silence, a figure was seen pulling a book away from its brethren on the first floor, deftly scanning its pages before stopping on a certain section which the figure promptly read aloud.
“…Not by angels or by demons… not Heaven or Hell… Death, like a great parent, comes and sweeps them all through one darksome portal, all his children… unto the kingdom of perpetual night.”
“…For your information, it helps if you are not acting so foreboding every time I enter this room. That’s not even the excerpt from that book, you’re just mixing quotes from different authors at this point.”
The corner of the figure’s lips quirked into a thin smile. It was not Sorath who occupied the room since earlier, as the masked woman was only arriving at her own office just now. A human male standing around the high 180 centimeters tall with shoulder-length blonde hair and gleaming green eyes, this person was clad in a navy-blue overcoat generally associated with a certain organization, but his possessed silver trimmings in place of the usual golden colorings, which was nevertheless still present as the color of his uniform’s epaulets and a braided cord (aiguillette) around his right shoulder. Serving as the office’s caretaker and Sorath’s aide, his choice of clothing would be rather… curious, for an average Milishian person given the aforementioned information.
The Magister’s flawless adherence to her schedule had resulted in her arriving at almost the exact same minute every working day, provided there was no prior disturbance that required a change. As a result, this curious man, feeling like doing it today, decided to perform a small narration for some entertainment, timed to precisely ‘coincide’ with Sorath’s arrival.
However, Sorath’s distorted voice still could be heard sounding frustrated despite the mask she was wearing, not at all pleased by the occupant’s humor.
Still, the caretaker playfully chose to ignore that. “…Why is that? Are you scared of the dark abyss?”
“No, it’s not that,” Sorath, still standing by the doorway, answered.
“Mm-hmm. Indeed, death shouldn’t be feared. It is after all… inevitable, as the tax one pays for having lived, and it comes, eventually, to everybody. Still, I acknowledge that none of us want for it to come too soon, do we?”
Sorath sighed, “Yours is… just a very ill timing. As a matter of fact, I visited him again earlier.”
The man’s eyebrows rose as he hummed. “Interesting. Evidently, he has managed to give you a not-insignificant weight on your conscience. Something to ponder about, yes?”
“Unbelievable,” Sorath sounded more indignant. “You couldn’t possibly be this callous.”
“And you, Magister, are getting too emotional,” the man countered. “Not that it’s a bad thing for you and your brethren… but it seems that you still haven’t reached the level of mastering your emotions yet. At least you’re not unnecessarily wearing your heart on your sleeve, if you know what I mean.”
A person belonging to the Order of the Ancients, or any clandestine entity in general, will find themselves teetering precariously between two extremes when it comes to emotions; let them engulf you or cast them away completely. Being rational or emotional? Trust your head or your heart? There is no right answer to that. Sometimes one is best… and sometimes the other. That’s why, either extreme one chooses to take, they are a failure nonetheless. It is a struggle not to fall into one of those extremes, but when one manages to control their emotions, one can even wield it as their greatest weapon. Just like what was written by a blind poet who impressed us with these wise words: “Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to the Light.”
The way this man sees it, ‘he’ whom Sorath was talking about knew the price of his free will and paid for it. He was not even that ‘callous’ as the red-robed Magister accused him of as far as he remembered. It was just a rather vexing instance of Sorath’s projection of what was ‘ideal’ for her mistaking his calm state of mind for heartlessness.
“…Human life is always so short… I wonder what else we can do…”
“As much as you want to imagine an outcome you would prefer—what could have been, you cannot turn back the clock. That one half of my parent… he would have preferred that everyone celebrate his life instead of seeing you in this state,” the man said, reminding her of some words to live by.
“Hmph. Words to live by,” Sorath remarked with a begrudging acceptance, finally walking over to her desk. The man placed the book back and followed her dutifully behind her.
“Lovely…” the man murmured under his breath. “As a matter of fact, we have spent approximately one minute and twelve seconds for an impromptu philosophical exchange regarding life, death, and emotions… so it’s best to not dally any longer and proceed to our work.”
“Mm.”
“Just making sure that your head is in the game, Magister,” the man quipped oh-so-helpfully. “Well… ‘To thine own self be true,’ I guess. But in your field of work, please temper yourself.”
“Mm-hmm…”
Having settled on her seat and taking a series of deep breaths to calm herself, Sorath reached into her hooded robe and lowered it, also taking off her mask and gloves before placing them beside the writing pad on the table in the process.
Sorath’s so-called ‘mundane world face’ underneath the mask was still sullen from her earlier visit to a certain friend, but even removing one thing that maintains an air of mystery for the Magister only revealed another layer of mystery of an almost ethereal quality despite a lack of embellishments on her natural appearance. With a pair of blue eyes and a golden mane styled in side-swept bangs with a double braid going across her crown and the rest twisted and pinned up, her wearing a regal dress will remind one of an elven princess or even a queen from the fairy tales.
“Alright, Illustrator, give me what’s on the menu today,” Sorath looked over her right shoulder. Now that there was no magical mask to scramble her voice into an unnatural contralto, her melodious voice was flowing smoothly into the ether despite its authoritative tone.
The only other person inside – obviously the one addressed as the “Illustrator” – appeared from Sorath’s left side instead, as if teleporting, and placed in front of the woman two documents with opposite-colored covers: one red and one green.
“These two freshly picked ones will be a good start. Your choice, Your Excellency.”
Without hesitation, Sorath grabbed the red one and quickly shuffled through the pages. Soon after, her delicate eyebrows raised to accompany a victorious smile that graced her brightened expression.
“…A big haul. Well, Gusion did a good job. He outdid himself, even.”
“Indeed. A stellar work for a start of a larger-than-life, yet untold tale.”
Behind the Holy Milishial Empire’s projected image of an honorable guardian with a love-hate relationship with the notion of armed conflict were the hidden sentinels on which Sorath was sitting at the pinnacle: the “Eyes of the Order.” Reporting directly to the Grand Magister (the Emperor, himself), this was the highest de facto authority to which all other faces of intelligence and counterintelligence assets within the entire country report. While the paperwork incumbent to sustain this organ would normally flood this otherwise opulent office with papers, the management of human resources and Sorath’s stringent insistence to have reports condensed into no more than five sheets of paper had paid off in ensuring that the Magister has plenty of breathing room enabling her to do, or plan to do, other things, besides being the eyes that rule the world from behind the shadows.
The red-covered one marked the conclusion regarding the inclusion of Gusion, an agent of the Eyes, and his cell into reinforcing the domestic counterintelligence effort, and it seemed that the vexing tendril that had been sapping the nutrients from this great tree had finally been removed from the equation. Discovered lurking around the Valiante Province, the culprits were identified as operatives from the DRAI (Mu’s intelligence directorate) masquerading as a Second Civilization merchant company. To eliminate this troublesome presence, Gusion and the others took the route of incapacitating the entire safehouse in one night through wind magic spell-induced asphyxiation once they were ready. Thanks to Flamberge and her apprentices’ breakthrough, removing oxygen from a specific spot is becoming easier, faster, and more precise than ever.
“So, these are also the ones feeding intel to their mainland to allow Mu to create a mechanical imitation of our magic torpedo. Well, this is the price they pay for getting ahead of themselves… However, our uninvited guests are hardly dumb if they can survive for this long. They will soon realize that their situation is compromised,” Sorath concluded, trying not to let the thing go over her head. All warfare is based on deception, after all. Just as the Holy Empire could hide their daggers and intent behind a mask, so too could Mu put forth the image of a peace-loving country.
It’s just that, despite the sporadic mishaps (read: unsatisfactory performance), the Holy Empire’s intelligence warfare, particularly against their reasonably advanced rival, theoretically should have the odds overwhelmingly stacked in their favor. Consequently, the aforementioned occasional ‘mishaps’ stood out as severe embarrassments for Sorath like a sore thumb.
The Illustrator, on the other hand, was fairly confident. “The silence of the whole operation and the intact condition of their classified documents gave us plenty of head start, however. By the time they realize that one of them is unnaturally silent and tries to do anything, we would have purged them already. Those doomed mortals will never see it coming.”
“…Anyway, the complete destruction of the enemy’s network will be the first step toward our grand redemption. With the Grand Magister giving me prior approval for full discretion, I’ll leave it to the personnel in the field to proceed with an appropriate follow-up operation. Inform them as soon as possible of this.”
“As you wish.”
“Alright, we’re done with this one,” Sorath closed the red-covered report with a contented sigh, it was quite a treat. Now, what does the green-covered one have in store for her, the elven beauty silently wondered. Immediately, she picked it up and read it.
In parallel with the ongoing trilateral negotiations involving the Altaras Kingdom and the Parpaldia Empire, which aimed to launch the Holy Empire’s broader engagement in the Far East, a series of operations were in progress throughout the southern Third Civilization Area, all falling under the overarching initiative known as Plan COMPASS. Initially conceived by the Order of the Ancients with the primary goal of discovering, securing, and exploiting the remnants of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire they could find in the region for their own uses, it eventually expanded to encompass an array of supportive undertakings. These even included the strategic dissemination of intel to select rebel cells operating within the territories occupied by Parpaldia, encouraging them to hamstring the northern invasion by targeting the logistics and thereby weakening the target country. Meanwhile, other rebel factions considered excessively violent or fanatical were subtly manipulated to turn against each other through an orchestrated web of suspicion. This ensured that they would remain divided, making it easier to dismantle them once they were deemed no longer necessary. After cultivating the plan for the last decade, the situation has deteriorated enough only to be overturned by the Holy Empire’s dynamic entry should the trilateral talk conclude.
Even if in the end, the operations did not discover what they were looking for, the Holy Empire’s upper hand in everything is already ensured. After all, their duty is to make a situation convenient for their charge. If a situation refuses to be convenient, the Eyes have the duty to force it to become convenient by all means necessary. So it has been written.
However, this region-spanning project was merely one of a series of sub-programs subsumed under the larger rubric of Operation GAZER, with sister plans like LEAD LINE (Rodenius and its surroundings), ALMANAC (northern Central World), QUADRANT (eastern Mu), and FORESTAFF (western Mu) currently being undertaken by the Eyes with varying intensity. There were also three more codenames that had to be temporarily sidelined for various reasons: NOCTURNAL (Grameus: distance, recent climate changes, and priority allocation), ASTROLABE (northern Philades, similar to NOCTURNAL), and HOURGLASS (Southern World, where unexplained disasters had been engulfing areas outside the waterway to Bushpaka Latan and required further investigation).
“All the world’s a stage,” indeed.
Oh, please, like any country’s intelligence asset is making charity donations and handing over free cookies. The Eyes of the Order just happened to be the one covered by the narration at present.
Looking at the unbelievably dizzying paperwork even after being condensed, Sorath idly mused, “…Ruling the world is so complicated… But anyway, I’m glad the Ancient Ministry is starting to receive the credit for their ‘achievements’ in pushing the eastern expansion plan. They deserved it after so much scorn the others had put on them.”
The blonde man chortled at the response, “That’s very altruistic of you, Magister.”
“There’s nothing wrong in that, the Ancient Ministry is the public face of our Order, am I wrong?”
“No, Your Excellency, that was rude of me,” the Illustrator acknowledged.
“Just bring me the next selections, please.”
“Of course, the next one, equipment procurement report for Task Force Nightraider, will be a lengthy one, though…”
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June 23, 1615 Central Calendar, 20:11
Greene Hotel, Xenosgram District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire
The subordinates working under the Holy Milishial Empire’s Foreign Minister, Baron Lewis Maddock, began to see their boss developing a quirk of rubbing his chin smilingly as he contemplates various things from time to time. The Baron himself seemed to be eagerly doing his part in ensuring the success of the Holy Empire’s eastern expansion plan. Whether his motivation was driven by self-interest or maybe patriotism, it didn’t seem to matter to those subordinates; what counted was the confidence they all shared in their country’s triumph in negotiations (like usual, like usual). In the event of such victory, the diplomats would be rightly celebrated for their role in upholding the August Star of Heaven’s honor.
Still, there are still things to be done, and that’s why Maddock and a select number of his aides were visiting a random hotel located in the heart of Runepolis to hold a meeting.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Lord Foreign Minister, is this all true?” the man sitting across from him inside the hotel annex asked in a tone of disbelief.
Maddock held up the wine cup in his hand, basking in the scene. “Soak in His Majesty’s excellence, Lord Ambassador. Your country needs everything it takes to rebuild its lost strength, right? All your country needs is to agree on these terms.”
The man spoke again, “…Recognition of Altaras’ independence and revision of trade deals between our countries is negotiable as long as they agree not to form alliances or military pacts with other countries. However, you may as well forget about the establishment of a binding non-aggression pact. This is non-negotiable as per His Majesty’s decree.”
Sipping on his cup calmly, Maddock countered. “Then we put an offer to purchase a number of your older warships, equipment included, and resell it to Altaras to bolster their defense if you are so insistent on that matter.”
“What!? That’s no less outrageous!”
“You’re misunderstood, Ambassador. This is not a negotiation; this is a compromise.”
“………”
“I do understand that your country has a certain… honor… that you must uphold. But to reiterate my point, if your country agrees to commit to a non-aggression of the Altaras Kingdom, the twenty percent increase of the aid from our country is yours to take.”
“Then as long as our territorial interests on the continent are not challenged, we are certainly open to negotiations,” the ambassador insisted, throwing another matter to the table.
Maddock’s eyes narrowed. “Then it will be best for your country to choose its interests carefully, Ambassador.”
Trying to snuff his indignation at those threatening words, the Parpaldian ambassador asked in a low voice, “…What is it that the Holy Empire wants?”
“Before we say ‘prosperity for all,’ we would want someone who can hold the Third Civilization Area together. But right now, our confidence in your country is plummeting, Ambassador,” Maddock responded in a chiding tone. “You know, let’s be honest. Parpaldia barely won anything in its latest campaign. Thanks to overextending the military and economic power that your ‘victories’ had required, your country fell into a crisis that necessitated outside help. We are willing to do that. Are you even aware of the state of your own country?”
Well, to be fair, this man lived a good life here, enough to make a barbarian forget about his own homeland, Maddock thought with a sneer.
Nevertheless, the whole situation was an opening. The region under discussion encompassed the resource-abundant Kooze, Arukh, Cannara, and Edrin, now Parpaldian vassal territories. These territories were sandwiched between the Parpaldian sphere of influence and the Riem Kingdom, a Third Civilization Area country that was eager to bare its fangs whenever the most powerful hegemon of Philades displayed vulnerability. In the absence of their own internal troubles, Riem would undoubtedly exploit the opening generated by the repercussions of Parpaldia’s northern invasion, taking advantage of its current struggles. If Leonius possessed the cunning to discern these unfolding events and was caring enough to guard his gains…
Blood veins inevitably emerged on the ambassador’s forehead. ‘The arrogance of this bloody villain!’
“What do you think we would agree to these additional terms you propose?” the ambassador impatiently asked.
“Why, because that’s not the end of it! Should you agree to these additional terms, then we will also include a proposal for a joint resource exploration and development in the northeastern Parpaldia area. How’s that sound?”
Sweat began to pour from the ambassador’s back. He had half-expecting this snake to employ all sorts of lucrative deals as bargaining chips to pressure Parpaldia into an accord, but this was on a different level. If he were to express his honest opinion, it was evident that Parpaldia, having poured so much into the war effort, lacked the confidence to effectively manage the interests gained in the northeast on its own. Moreover, taking into account the Holy Empire’s privileges under extraterritoriality laws, the presence of Milishian capital (and the inevitable presence of security forces ‘for the citizens’ sake,’ no way this is not happening!) in the region would act as a convenient deterrent to filthy opportunistic barbarians of the north. While there might be dissenters, there would be even more proponents of this deal once he communicated this meeting to the government.
“This night isn’t getting any younger, yet there’s so much to cover. Are you ready for a long talk, Ambassador?” Maddock reminded.
“……Let’s do it…”
The Parpaldian ambassador gulped and nodded to an elated Milishian Foreign Minister.
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After negotiations from June 7 to June 30, spanning a total of ten sessions, a trilateral treaty between the Holy Milishial Empire, the Altaras Kingdom, and the Parpaldia Empire was signed one month later on July 5, 1615 CC at the Evergarden Hotel in Hecate Anor, Valahia Province of the Holy Milishial Empire. As a result, this treaty would be known in later history as the Treaty of Evergarden, superseding the Treaty of Le Brias of 1515 CC between Altaras and Parpaldia.
On paper, Altaras still found itself under the shadow of potential threats from Parpaldia, given the latter’s vehement refusal to broach the topic of a non-aggression agreement between the two countries. If anything, in return for recognizing the “independence and autonomy” of the Altaras Kingdom and granting a chance to renegotiate the tribute reduction every five years, with the ultimate goal of its complete abolition, Parpaldia imposed a condition that Altaras could not aid or align itself with any of Parpaldia’s enemies.
However, in addition to being in no position to resist the Holy Milishial Empire in case of a war, the Parpaldian government was astonished when the Holy Empire declared its willingness to propose a security treaty with Altaras, exploiting the fact that the Holy Empire was not an enemy of Parpaldia. Ultimately, the Parpaldian government reluctantly conceded and guaranteed a non-aggression of Altaras through the Maddock-Hannes agreement that accompanied the treaty. The uncontested territorial claims over the continent that Parpaldia demanded were also rejected by the Holy Empire, resulting in a bemused Foreign Minister Maddock as he saw the expressions of the Parpaldians who made it clear that they were feeling very cheated of their deserved spoils.
The Treaty of Evergarden also in effect lifted the trade restrictions that the Holy Empire had imposed on Parpaldia, bringing what the former referred to as “normal trade relations” (NTR). Moreover, it ensured a substantial amount of foreign aid to help the weakened country get back on its feet. In return, Parpaldia granted the Holy Empire a most favored nation treatment and recognized its interests in the northeastern Parpaldia region, at the same time limiting the scope of the other powers. To facilitate this, the Great East Joint Development Company (Groot Oost Gezamenijke Ontwikkelingsmaatschappij in Parpaldian, also unofficially known by a corrupted form of its native acronym, Gorgom) was formally established in August with a 55-45 split between the Holy Empire and Parpaldia. The former contributed capital and technology, while the latter provided labor.
Suffice to say, the other Third Civilization countries that were unaware of the treaty’s details panicked, unsure of what to do as they saw their dreaded boogeymen was beginning to rapidly recover its strength and beyond. Unfortunately, neither of them was as blessed as Altaras in terms of natural resources. The delegation from the island country itself also returned from the venue carrying a sliver of doubt, that their country’s importance to the Holy Empire was beginning to drop now that the continental superpower of Philades had fallen into their grasp.
Nevertheless, regardless of Parpaldia’s stance, what the Holy Empire didn’t mention during the negotiations was its intention to elevate Altaras from an Outside Civilization Country to a Third Civilization Country as they promised during the negotiations to acquire the mining rights of gracium in Altaras back in October 1614 CC. This move would naturally extend the waiting period for rotating Third Civilization participants. Seeing this, certain factions within the Holy Empire’s government proposed the addition of another slot for the Third Civilization Area… at the expense of permanently removing the Annonrial Empire from participation. Being the uncooperative little shits that those winged barbarians were, this idea was beginning to gain traction within the government who took the time to reflect the Annonrial Empire’s behavior.
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July 18, 1615 Central Calendar, 10:00
Esthirant, Parpaldia Empire
“Eh? What is this thing?”
Kaios Ashmeyer van Deventer, a good boy and the son of the Meyer Trading Company’s owner, found this Saturday morning to be quite a surprise as his friend Elto came to visit his residence. Even if this is the Imperial Capital, he remembered well what his father had said that it’s getting unsafe to go outside for no reason as of late, with words going from mouth to mouth about a small-scale riot in neighborhood X or a crackdown in street Y. Still, Elto showed up by herself at his house, claiming to have been taking the most heavily guarded route from her own home. What a brave, but reckless girl, Kaios thought to himself worriedly.
Moreover, she brought ‘something’ that was intended for Kaios specifically.
“My father just returned from his business trip and he brought souvenirs for the two of us. This is for you, take it,” Elto, an affectionate nickname for a girl born as Elina Arjen van Dalsen, grabbed Kaios’ right arm and handed over the souvenir she had been carrying. It was a palm-sized box—a perfect square as Kaios eyeballed it, made of high-quality hard paper seemingly obvious as to its origin for the blonde boy and his crack knowledge of things related to a certain country in the direction where the sun sets.
“Huh… t-thank you…” Kaios stiffly nodded as he opened the lid to take a peek. And as soon as he saw it, his jaw went slack. “This is—is this what I think it is?”
Elto crowed, sitting on one of the chairs in the reception room, “Heh… I knew you would be gushing at that.”
“W-well…! This must be expensive! How much is it?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask my father,” shrugged Elto.
“…Right.”
“Actually, he said one of those is a gift from the Milishians… after he attended some kind of conference with them.”
“Ah.”
Too excited to entertain the question of why and how Elto’s father would decide to give something like this to him, Kaios turned his attention back to the gift, slowly and carefully lifted the item out of its box treating it as if it was some kind of holy grail. A thin black slab, two buttons protruding on one side and another on the opposite side, as well as a black elegant strap that ends in a buckle, formed a highly advanced item Kaios had seen yet for something so trivially small. As he further inspected it, he found an inscription behind the slab that said “AIKON.”
“So, you also got a wristwatch.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“I left it at home. It’s troublesome to carry around.”
“…Uh, okay, how do I use it?” Kaios sheepishly called out again. He didn’t really remember reading about this kind of wristwatch in the books he collected. It was only natural, since it was a relatively new model of Milishian magical wristwatch, introduced by the same company that produced the grimoires.
“Here, let me show you,” Elto sighed.
With patience, she guided her friend in wearing the wristwatch, starting by helping fasten the black strap securely around his wrist to ensure a snug fit. The sleek and modern tech starkly contrasted with his daily garments, but Kaios paid no mind to it as he was mesmerized by the feeling of weight it gave on his arm.
“The button on the right side is to turn it on,” Elto explained. “Try it.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he pressed the button, light blue-colored four digits of numbers equally divided by a colon appeared on the thin black slab. Still set in the Milishial Standard Time, the screen displayed “08:00” on it.
“Eh? Numbers?” Kaios’ eyebrows rose in intrigue. “It’s unlike a little wall clock like the one shown by that boy I once met in Runepolis?”
“Well, things change.”
“Fair enough… what about the ones on the left side?”
“Those are for adjusting the time shown on your watch.”
“Ooh… I get it, let me guess, the upper one must be the one to increase the numbers shown, right?” Kaios beamed. As the adjustment added one minute with each button press, Kaios had to press it several more times until the display showed the correct Western Philades Time, which is two hours ahead of the coordinated universal time set in Runepolis.
“Alright, it’s done!”
“Aren’t you a bright one,” Elto remarked.
“Well, as long as you get the gist of it, using it is pretty easy.”
However, the girl gave him a side-eye. “You aren’t trying to break it down and see what’s inside, aren’t you?”
Faced with Elto’s accusatory tone, Kaios chuckled nervously. “I-I don’t think so. I know it’s far beyond anything we have here, but now that you mentioned it, I can’t help but be curious…”
“Uh, huh. You do you,” Elto rolled her eyes. “But if you lost yours, it’s on you, remember?”
“Yes, yes, of course! Thank you very much for your gift, Elto, I promise I’ll treat it with care!”
As they spent some more time examining the new gift, another voice that was not Kaios’ father was heard shouting from outside the house.
“Excuse me! I am Jansen, nephew of Meneer Arjen van Dalsen! Is Elina already here!?”
“Is that… your cousin?” Kaios turned to Elto.
“Huh, it’s him.”
Emerging from the doorway, Kaios and Elto were met by the sight of a distressed-looking man, another blonde who had entered the scene. Seeing the girl safe and sound at their destination, Jansen was visibly relieved.
“Elina! You had me worried. I thought I’d lost you back then!” the older man exclaimed.
The girl, however, didn’t take kindly to his words. She crossed her arms and shot back with a look so dry that one might shrivel from it. “Oh, please. If a brave knight in shining armor like you hadn’t been so distracted by that fair maiden near the market, you wouldn’t have lost sight of me in the first place. It’s Suzanna, isn’t it?”
“W-what are you talking about!?” Jansen looked scandalized.
“Hahahaha…”
Witnessing their banter, Kaios couldn’t help but let out a laugh. That Elto, so she was escorted this whole time, even if said escort is quite unreliable.
“Well, enjoy the gift, Kaios. Now that Jansen’s finally here… it’s time for us to go back home,” Elto declared, dragging her bewildered cousin as she bid farewell and left his residence.
Wishing both Elto and Jansen eternal good tidings, the boy watched the pair until they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.
…………
19:13
Inside his bedroom, Kaios was lying on his bed, gaze fixated on the new wristwatch cradled in his hand. Oddly, the feeling of excitement he experienced upon receiving this gift faded quicker than he thought. As nightfall came, all that lingered was a peculiar sense that, although he yearned for it, the casual gifting of an item of his dreams left him with a touch of disappointment due to how anticlimactic it was. It was almost as if a part of Kaios hesitated to accept it so easily.
“It’s good, but…”
Maybe he should really break it down and see what makes it so advanced, but doing so will make Elto sad. No, no, he should draw a line.
Back then, when Kaios resolved to obtain this advanced piece of technology, it was hard to obtain one and he was ready to do things bit by bit, taking into consideration the technological level of his society. When he started by suggesting to nearby artisans, “Hey, what if you try to make your products more uniform?” and some of them embraced the idea, it yielded tangible outcomes. Those who took up his words lauded him for it. These results brought not only satisfaction but also a sense of fulfillment for Kaios. Gradually, more individuals began to adopt this method, and even the Imperial Advisor who happened to be there recognized its value and decided to institutionalize ‘common standards’ as a policy. Witnessing the progress and growth of those around him filled Kaios with a deep sense of accomplishment and contentment, prompting him to think of more ways to elevate them with the aim of finally obtaining the object of his desire. Stupid, maybe, but that’s what happened with Kaios.
Later, when Kaios and his father Meyer were sitting together on the balcony, watching the view of the approach to Esthirant Bay, the boy asked his father about his feelings.
“Father,” Kaios began softly, “I’ve been thinking about something. You know that wristwatch that Elto’s father gave me, right? It’s amazing, just like what I always wanted. But, after having it… I don’t know why, I was supposed to be happy, but I didn’t.”
Patting the head of his son, who had recently decided to make a minor change to his hairstyle, Meyer smiled, “Ah, that feeling when something you’ve longed for turns out to be less exciting than you imagined?”
Kaios nodded. “Why is that, Father?”
“Well, son, you might start by wanting something, but since that something is too far away from your reach, you start a journey to obtain it. But the thing is, sometimes it’s not just about reaching your destination, but the adventures and experiences along the way. Your desire for that wristwatch was like setting sail on a voyage. You will experience all sorts of things amidst that journey, and I think that’s the point where you were until the destination suddenly appeared before you. You aren’t satisfied now that the exciting journey you’re experiencing was abruptly come to an end.”
Kaios mulled over his father’s words as he turned to gaze out at the sea. So he had reached a point where he began to enjoy the process of pursuing a result rather than simply wishing for the result to instantly come to him, he thought. When he thought that way, it gradually made sense.
“Come to think of it, seeing the artisans living next door having their goods sell well after listening to my advice makes me happy, Father… What if I can do more than just that? Do you think I should become something like a creator?”
“A creator? That’s a noble aspiration,” Meyer chuckled. “But you better think about it carefully from now on, so that you will not be confused once you graduate from HBS. But if becoming a creator is the true calling that the compass within your heart points to, then go for it!”
Still in his third year at HBS (Hogere Burgerschool (“Higher Citizen School”) a Parpaldian citizen-exclusive hybrid of junior and senior high schools), Kaios has ample time to explore whether the path of a creator resonates with his true passion. Meyer, recognizing his son’s exceptional performance in school, held onto the hope that Kaios would maintain his dedication, so that if he chose to pursue engineering in the end, he could enroll him in the best technical university in the entire Parpaldia Empire. This institution was named Keizerlijke Technische Universiteit van Duro (Imperial Technical University of Duro, KTU Duro), and it was located in an area that just happened to be the place where the Holy Empire’s Plan COMPASS was currently pointing to.
“Yes, Father, I will give it a lot of thinking.”
Kaios turned to his father and nodded with determination.
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Currently Publicly Available Information
COMPASS
[https://img.wattpad.com/b90459db96db74cac348644085d86c061c8c1e90/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4c57674b7067594f7a575a5470513d3d2d313339303539383032322e313738656161613062333039353161333832303734303833343232322e706e67]
A device that shows the cardinal directions used for navigation and geographic orientation. It commonly consists of a magnetized needle or other element, such as a compass card or compass rose, which can pivot to align itself with magnetic north. It often shows angles in degrees: north corresponds to 0 degrees, and the angles increase clockwise, so east is 90 degrees, south is 180 degrees, and west is 270 degrees.