A Brief Narrative of Olimpia's History and Culture—

I can't say who was the first to make a move against another, but I can tell you the period of the greatest strife. In the 738th year of our glorious Republic, the infighting between the various noble families nearly led to our destruction. And yet, it was inevitable.

From the mouth of my own father, I heard tales of those tumultuous times. Every other day, you would hear of a member of one family or another cut down in their sleep. Assassins roamed the night freely and stalked the streets in the day, seeking opportunities to strike at the targets of open contracts. In response to the danger, nobles and the wealthy would lash out with lethal force at anyone they didn't know who made it within arm's reach.

Some innocents died, but they were in the vast minority, and that only served to heighten the paranoia. Society came to a screeching halt as everyone was afraid to leave their homes, only darting out when the needs of life forced them to.

Nevertheless, the central nobles continued to fight. They ignored the northern and western provinces calling for aid as they struggled to beat back the endless hordes. They ignored the citizens screaming and clawing at the earth above their children's graves. Because the signs were clear, they— no, we were getting stronger. As the number of nobles dwindled, the power level of those who remained rose, and the fighting only became more devastating because of it.

The signs were evident to all, but no one seemed to care. The Republic was tearing itself apart, and if we didn't stop soon, there would be nothing left to rule over. So, a group within Olimpia herself gathered. Some of the oldest families came together and started calling themselves the Founding Families. A group that my house is proud to be part of.

Over the course of decades, the Twelve Families began exerting their will through force of arms. The assassin guilds that had embedded themselves in every corner of the Republic were gradually trimmed back and rooted out until they became extinct. Nobles who were found scheming against their neighbors were stripped of their rights and executed for failing to comply with the newly implemented dueling laws. Laws that could only be said to have been legally legislated in the loosest sense.

And all of that, in my opinion, was a task that was only possible because of the common people, who were sick and tired of all the fighting and would report any infraction they witnessed. By the year 753, there seemed to be peace and stability within the Republic once more… but it was just a farce.

The Senate could barely exert its influence on the central lands, where all the oldest and previously most influential houses of the Republic were located. Every province, city, and town was ravaged by decades of fighting and was wholly focused on recovering.

The northern border was bloody from resisting multiple hordes without any aid, and they were fed up with the southern politicians of the time. They simply wanted stability again, as they could not hold out much longer without some modicum of support.

The west, always distant from the center of power, had remained mostly silent during this period. They had some turmoil, but nothing close to what was happening in the heartlands. Even with messengers and relay towers, it was hard to send more than basic information over nearly three thousand miles to the farthest western cities.

Because of that, no one realized that what the nobles had been attempting to achieve in the heartlands had all but been accomplished in the west. Through a mixture of oaths, intermarrying, having a smaller population, and a few key deaths, a handful of families — namely the Luthrins, Oxitorkis, Augustinians, and Frektans — were nearly entirely in control of every established province.

When the next beastwave arrived following the internal strife, the western provinces declared their independence. They chose the perfect timing, after biding their time for decades. The response, by any opinion, was less than adequate.

The Republic's northern legions were occupied, and most of the southern ones were still recovering while also busy supporting the North. The seven legions available were far from enough to handle the eighteen legions in the western lands. The best the available forces could do was hold the traitors back at the Scipio Gap.

It wasn't until two decades had passed that the Republic could muster twenty more legions to mount a proper force to reclaim the lost territory. While the traitors had plenty of time to prepare defenses, the west remained sparsely inhabited in vast stretches of land. So there was no reason for them to unnecessarily hold useless ground.

Vastly outnumbered and thus vastly inferior when it came to psy reserves, the Traitors were unable to face the advance of the Republic head-on. Therefore, they fought in prepared positions, then retreated before they could be surrounded or overwhelmed. It was a strategy ideally suited to the west's steep, hilly terrain, with few passable routes that large numbers could quickly and easily traverse.

Under those conditions, the smaller rebel force held off the larger Republic one for months and then years. They retreated, but with every step backward, they harassed the Republic Legions and made them pay in blood. Most importantly, they waited. They bought time, and with that time, the now-ruling Augustinian emperor and his family grew in strength with the expectations of their people.

High Lords, the rulers of provinces, and all their inhabitants, were once thought of as the apex of casters. However, it has since been proven to no longer be the case. The nobles, arrogant in their power, died by the scores at the traitor emperor's and princes' hands before they slipped away.

Worst of all, with the confirmation of what a ruling family could become, the worst fears among various houses bloomed, becoming something monstrous. Driven by their emotions, the most powerful became even more paranoid of those around them, constantly spying on each other to ensure that no one ever gained enough power to seize control. The result was numerous accusations, backroom alliances and betrayals, and challenges to duels to the death, thrown at anyone who seemed to be growing too strong. Of course, the turmoil led to the complete disruption of support to the front lines of the war.

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The too competent legati belonging to prominent noble houses found themselves being sidelined by political maneuverings at home. Except that many of the legions, and thus their legati, were under the direct command of City Lords, so they would not remove their family members so easily. With the result less than satisfactory to many politicians, the supplies and equipment being transported to the active legions began encountering issues that had never existed before.

Wagon caravans were raided or disappeared en masse by the onset of organized bandits. Craftsmen were suddenly unable to get raw materials, or their stores were robbed and set on fire. The contracts the Senate handed to suppliers began to pile up as the bureaucrats would no longer process them efficiently.

The end effect was that the fighting was further bogged down, and many battles that should have been won were lost. However, the momentum of the Republic could not be overcome so easily, and the legions slowly but steadily advanced. After long years of conflict, when it finally looked like victory was within sight, what the Traitors had been waiting for finally arrived.

Another beastwave had appeared.

In a matter of days from the first sighting, all of the northern legions within the force were immediately recalled to their home cities, and a substantial part of the river of supplies flowing west was redirected north. With ten legions leaving, the traitors seized the opportunity and, for the first time, went on the offensive.

With blood and steel, they pushed back the Republic, retaking every foot of ground they had lost. In a scramble to stabilize the situation, our legions were forced to retreat all the way back to Scipio, as the west finally had a numerical advantage, with their ability to secure their northern border far more easily than the Republic.

In the following decades, this pattern of invasion, retreat, and counterattacks, always when the Republic was required to look north, was repeated. And with every repetition, the resistance from the traitors only became fiercer as their forces became more seasoned.

It was into that endless struggle that I was born. In my youth, I bathed within the unending tides of blood that washed over the sands of Scipio as a seething hatred developed between what is now two people. Because who cares for reasons when all you can think of is all the lives that were cut short by your enemy.

Why do I bring up this history? First off, because I fear its origins will be hidden with time. But most importantly, it is because you need to understand that, regardless of the reasons that led us here, the Imperium and Republic can no longer coexist. Forget the hatred that ordinary citizens have developed for each other over countless years of conflict; the ruling factions of the two nations are diametrically incompatible. Eventually, one ideology will be proven superior and consume the other. And on that day, rivers of blood will flow.

Making the circumstances leading to our separation all the more tragic. We have no enemies, not really. The beastkins have devolved into animals, acting on instinct even as those instincts guide them to their demise. The elves are a broken race, shadows of the giants they once were.

We could have lived in peace. Slowly, as the generations passed, we could have developed our power. We could have sought to conquer this world and then look beyond after finally shattering the fate that shackles us. However, we never even got to see so much as a shadow of such a future, as we headlong propelled ourselves into a perpetual deadlock. Only fitting, I suppose, that we ended up in the same circumstances in the physical world as the spiritual.

As much of a tragedy as it is, the separation of our people was inevitable. Proper even. You could say, and they do, that the Traitors are the ones still faithfully fulfilling the duty the elven king shoved onto us, and we are the ones who left our duty behind.

They could be right. I can admit that their argument about the selfishness of the Founding Families desire to remain in power is at least logical. Then again, the emperor's perspective on the situation is hardly the objective vision he pretends. The rulers of the Republic's plan may come down to hoping for a miracle, one that we cannot achieve ourselves, but that does not mean history will mark us as wrong. Nor does it mean the emperor's dream is any less delusional.

No matter what anyone says, we have done more than what could be expected of us. If how we live our lives leads to our destruction, then I say, so be it. Because in the end, it will finally be our lives. Not the desperate struggle we were condemned to as we fought to fix what the elves broke.

They were the ones with the self-inflicted curse that they shoved onto us. Shoved onto us, causing it to twist and distort into something horrendous. Thanks to the Mad Scholar, we at least know about it and can take steps to counter its effects.

Though there is a portion of our society that finds the curse anything but oppressive. However, that is getting ahead of myself. Suffice it to say, the elves gave us abilities, taught us how to use them, and then how to abuse them. Worse, they told us it was necessary.

And I suppose it was. How else could you take what amounted to children, hand them a sword and shield, then push them to the front lines of a conflict that had existed for longer than anyone could remember? Deluding us and twisting our minds was the only way to ensure we would even come close to success. And we have succeeded in our task.

If there is one thing that we have done, it is that. With the full might of the Republic, a barrier was made around the Great Forest. Olimpians marched into the jaws of the beasts and broke their teeth upon our shields. We did what should have been impossible for us, and in doing so, we reshaped our society.

Instead of seeking out the different parts of the world and slowly discovering its wonders, or of creating a society that steadily develops, allowing us to discover and protect ourselves against the pitfalls of our abilities, we were pushed to the pinnacle.

At the top of a mountain with cliffs on all sides and a path that could only be discovered by testing the ground, is it any wonder that we started marking out the trail with a line of bodies? No, that result was to be expected. And yet, despite the odds, we found a way forward, only to discover as we started walking it that we couldn't turn back. Though it took far longer to realize what it would eventually cost us.

Not that it is all that great of a concern, because if we fail in our task, the price to be paid won't matter. We protect the forest and what lies within its heart. For that is our duty. It is that duty, even if people don't know it, that drives us to do whatever is necessary to succeed. To survive and grow in power. We will stand until relieved, seeking the praise of a father as if we were still children. But it is all meaningless.

That father, the one who put us on this task, is long dead. A being that my Great-great-great-great-grandfather might have known. No, not known, seen. And yet we are all still chasing after a god-made flesh. A being that, according to his own words, conveyed by the Mad Scholar, was responsible for our first appearing in this world.

Is it any wonder that we despise him?

The High King brought us here. Twisted us by giving us wonderfully terrible powers. Then hoisted his burden onto our shoulders. It was necessary if the Mad Scholar is to be believed. However, I feel nothing but frustration that we are the ones who must bear this burden.

An emotion that I am not alone in. If there is one significant difference between the traitors and us, it is our treatment of the descendants of the High King. Say what you will about how we mock and harass the elves, but at least we don't enslave them.

However, it isn't out of benevolence. No, if some of the nobles had their way, the elves would have long been wiped clean from these lands. We leave them untouched and loosely integrated into our society because, as they were the ones to hook us to the plow, they are the only ones who can set us free.

Only they can be our miracle.

No one will openly admit it, but those at the highest levels are aware of this truth. Humans lack the control to free themselves, and the elves are too hated by the world to use their control properly. So we exist in a stalemate.

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