Chapter 1: The End of the Civil War
The man looked up at the sky.
Low clouds hung heavy, looking ready to rain down at any moment. Thin blue sky peeked through ragged gaps in the blanket-like clouds. Beams of light leaking through the clouds dappled the winter lake’s surface.
Half a century ago, the lake would have been busy with fishing boats, but no vessels disturbed the tranquil waters.
A distant rumble of thunder.
No, a squadron of bombers. Shadows larger than birds moved between the clouds.
The middle-aged man followed the silhouettes with green eyes.
There had been reports just the other day that “A peace agreement will soon be mediated through the UN.” Yet the aerial raids continued unabated. The ground war showed no signs of ending either.
Whether to gain advantage in the peace deal, or thinking it wasteful to leave any ammunition, the fighting had only intensified.
The man stood at the edge of Lacus, the world’s largest salt lake.
Stepping firmly on the lakewater in thick-soled boots, he slowly walked across the surface rippling in the gentle breeze.
Ripples spread where his footsteps fell, fading quietly away. He crossed the water as if strolling over sandy ground, making waves rise and fall with each measured step. Startled by the man’s shadow, a school of small fish darted away.
Sunken in the lakebed lay countless ships and fighter planes.
With the debris tearing holes in nets, those without magic living on land could no longer fish here.
The people of the lake used techniques from the Spellcraft School of Pelican to catch fish, but to avoid attacks no longer went fishing during daylight.
A wind picked up, ruffling the man’s short hair.
His hair was the same green as his eyes. He had been a fisherman of the lake people. Using water magic, he walked across the lake toward the interception point.
Camouflage clothes in mottled greens were embroidered with thin blue threads. All letters. Spells offering fireproofing, warmth, shock absorption, warding... Various protective enchantments sewn in with “words of power.”
The man’s camouflage uniform was no simple military garb for telling friend from foe. When worn by someone with magical abilities, the spells woven into the fabric took effect as [armor].
He crossed the gently rippling Lacus with ease.
High above, a squadron of bombers passed over the man.
If he had possessed [detection] magic, he might have glimpsed the symbol of the Kirhkuls faith, the “Celestial Road”, painted on their wings.
The bombers were inbound for a city in northern Nenia Island.
Taking off from bases in southwestern Aether Province, they bombed the islands scattered across southern Lacus.
Most major cities had already been reduced to scorched earth, countless people burnt to ash.
Over the past half century, Rantelna Island near the Tinukarlkurr-Nohtiu continent mainland had fallen under the control of the “powerless people” of Aether Province... those without magic living on land.
To the north of Rantelna floated Nenia Island where the people of the lake and “powerful people” on land with magic held defensive lines against the powerless.
Nenia Island with its copper mines was the lifeline for the lake people.
The green of their hair matched the hue of copper. More than those on land, the people of the lake needed copper, an essential mineral for them.
The major industries of the Lacus-Lakrimaris Republic were agriculture, forestry, fisheries, water transport, and the Nenia Island copper mining. Economically, they depended heavily on the mines. They could not afford to lose Nenia.
The man opened his mouth.
In a language bearing no resemblance to any natural tongue, he issued a command to the salt lake Lacus.
“Oh gentle waters, heed my voice, obey my will.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl4b2gWTabR
Rise up, O floating force, carrier, divider, cleansing might, foeman of flame.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVn8dwlsPra
Rise up at my will, become a wall.”
Translated into the local language of South Lacus, it would hold this meaning.
At the words of power’s command, water rose up from beneath the man’s feet. The swelling mass of water rapidly increased in bulk, forming an enormous wall.
A mountain of water vast enough to swallow a town stretched upward with biological motion.
The man rode atop its back, issuing directions.
He extended the water wall even higher, raising it above the clouds. He himself remained below the clouds, enveloped by the water wall, vanishing as the clouds were erased.
The third squadron of bombers closed in fast. Unable to evade the sudden massive wall barring their path, they were swallowed up.
Having swallowed one squadron of twelve enemy craft, the water took on a spherical shape. Inside the gigantic droplet, engines cut out and propellers ceased spinning. The pilots tried to escape but the currents flowed toward the center, battering men and machines as they tumbled through the churning waters.
The man slowly lowered the watery mass containing the enemy aircraft back to the ground.
Similar defensive measures would be enacted in northern Nenia Island as well.
In the man’s hand, several crystals unleashed their power and crumbled away.
“Revenge is ours,” he whispered to the fragments, opening his palm.
Light cascaded down through the hole rent in the clouds, making the crystal shards sparkle. Carried on the wind, the minute fragments scattered like falling teardrops into Lacus.
Three months later.
Peace accords were signed, dividing the Lacus-Lakrimaris Republic into three new nations.
The Lakrimaris Kingdom, with the former royal Lakrimaris family restored to the throne, returning to a dynastic rule.
It held the southern half of Nenia Island and scattered Funalis Islands southeast of Nenia.
Including the former royals, sixty percent of its population were the powerful people with magic. Ten percent were powerless. Thirty percent were the people of the lake. Clinging fiercely to their copper mines, the Lakrimaris maintained economic superiority.
The Aether Republic, dominated by the Aether Party.
They gained Aether Province on the lake’s southwest shores and Rantelna Island.
Most of the inhabitants were the powerless people on land without magic, believers in the monotheistic Kirkuls faith.
The people of Aether Province became an independent Kirkuls theocracy.
The old Lakus-Lakrimaris Kingdom and subsequent Republic had the polytheistic Fraksinus faith as their national religion. With the royals and old government following different beliefs, the Aether people reveled in the passionate joy of securing a victory for their own faith.
The one remaining was the Nemolis Republic.
It held the northern half of Nenia Island and the forested island of Nemolis to the east, controlling access to the east of the lake.
Seventy percent were believers in the Fraksinus faith among the people of the lake.
Of the thirty percent living on land, the majority were powerless people without magic. Around half of those were Kirkuls believers who, to prevent friction, were relocated into the autonomous Listova district.
Those of land-dwellers who followed the polytheistic Fraksinus faith and powerful people with magic were permitted to live outside of the autonomous district.
Though harboring much discontent and anxiety, the half-century of civil war had come to an end.
While small skirmishes still broke out sporadically within the three divided regions, they were a trivial scale compared to the former war.
The peace agreement would not be overturned, and the peaceful days continued for thirty years. At the same time, small dissatisfactions accumulated over those thirty years as well.
136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzy7hAxskSC
Copyright © 2016 Hirotsugu Takatsu
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▲ Map of the Lacus Lake South Region after the peace agreement.136Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiUFqz2Fw9a
Added map.
See “Reference Materials on the Thorns' Circle Series Settings” for more details on worldbuilding.
▼ Holy crest of the Kirkuls faith
