A Brief History Of Ukiya

"Why don't they teach this in the Monastery?" Korou chugged his fifth cup of coffee and rapped it over the stone table of Teutoic origin Buttery. This was the first time he had encountered his beloved beverage.

"But they do," Atla snatched away the fourth serving of the caffeinated drink and shot him a glare. "Autumn term, first year." She knoced over his temples. "Ring any bell?"

"I was exempted from them, remember?" Korou heaved a sigh. His finger was playing with his three beaded Karunglai, a spitting copy of Atla's.

"That's why you must take your prelims seriously, dumb brat."

"As a matter of fact, I did, dork warrior," He tried snatching away the Qin cup, earning a slap over his head. "However, the readings assigned to me did not mention this genesis, or creation myth."

Korou made a mental checklist of all the tomes, codices, manuscripts, and scrolls his master, Naobi, had delivered. There were volumes of classics, tons of Magecraftian treatises and handbooks on every school of magecraft. But even then, there wasn't a single book that mentioned this myth.

"You won't find anything in them," Atla heaved a sigh and shot him a rueful smile. "There's no book in this world that even mentions that tale today."

"Then how is it preserved?"

"Oral history," She stood up and placed three triangular copper coins on the slab. They rested with a thump. "Grandma takes them. It is a three-week-long class," Atla gestured towards the winding alleyways, a temporary setting with the overcrowded shops in the Bazaar. They were currently food hopping, and unlike Atla, who had a void in her stomach, Korou could no longer fit in his stomach. "At the end of autumn. It happened this year too, but I am sure you drowned in tomes then."

"Reading is a great habit," Korou whined, following her into the threaded roadway. His shoulders rubbed against a passerby as he ducked, squeezing towards the open space at the centre. The place was crowded to the brim. He glanced around, trying to find Atla's cyan chuba.

"Not everything written survives the passage of time," He felt a tug on his sleeves as Atla pulled him over to the side. She dusted his coat, and then hers. "And in this case, our divine books didn't."

"Atla," Korou shook his head. "See, I get it, but books," He pointed at the Vanga mercerie three blocks away. Freshly printed manuscripts and loosely bound books hung over its shelves. "Just don't stop existing out of nowhere. What happened?"

"Aren't you smart enough to figure it out?" She snapped, but soon eased into an apology. "I am sorry, I didn't mean it that way."

Korou gave her an understanding glance, his curiosity still brimming. Atla heaved a sigh. "Lost puppy look," She pinched his cheeks with a glare. "I hate it at times."

"I am not lost-"

"They were burnt," She walked ahead in a nonchalant reprise. "It happened during the era of transition," Atla paused her gaze cast over the neatly packed volume of 'Histories de Kangleipak', a contemporary work by the court historian of Ukiya. Naobi detested its content. "How much for the book?" She asked in a poignant tone.

Korou, slightly dazed by the abrupt shift, tilted his gaze. The shopkeeper, a beige-skinned, burly, middle-aged Vanga resident, peeked from his counter. His brown eyes, scrutinising, sizing up Atla as if she were a pebble. Insignificant and cast aside.

"One silver pana," He purposefully spoke in his regional dialect—Vangali, "and ten copper coins."

"I will take two copies," Atla placed three silver pana and thirty copper coins. Triple of what was asked. "And please keep the change, I insist, it is a token of appreciation for your fluent Vangali."

Korou pursed his lips, stifling his laugh; meanwhile, the shopkeeper fumed but snatched away the cash.

"Thank you for choosing us," The burly man snorted and passed on the volumes packed in an accacia embroidered jute bag. He was no longer using his regional language.

"Oh, why?" Atla passed on the bag to Korou and shot the shopkeeper a sly grin. "I found your Vangali fluent, don't sully Lamphi lon with that tone." She gestured for Korou to move ahead. "As for your business, I hope it finds suitable buyers, because I don't see any scope with the monastery." Atla shot him a dumb smile, flashed her Karunglai, and scurried ahead.

"You are badass." Korou crinkled with mirth as they ran through the crowd.

"The look on his face was priceless," Atla skipped with laughter. "How much I wish I could show it to Grandma; she would be so proud."

"I am as well." Korou yanked her to a halt. "I am super proud of you."

Atla's scarlet eyes glimmered with gentle surprise. "Thanks," She scratched the back of her head, and then pointed at the jute bag. "Gift for you."

"Master hates that book." He brought out the girthy bound volume. "Also, there are two of them."

"Grandma has good reasons to despise it," Atla snatched the bag and pulled out the other volume. "As for this, I will gift it to maybe Iromi?"

Korou shuffled through its pages; it had illustrated prints of current regional maps. His fingers traced its contour lines as his gaze paused at Kangleipak province. Half of it was missing. "Why?" He mumbled and leafed through it quickly; it must be a mistake. Why would the author erase fifty per cent of his province's landmass?

"You won't find it," Atla perched her chin over his shoulder. "The Imperialist from the fourth century, Contemporary Mages Era, made sure of it."

"That's before the fifty-year war," said Korou, his mind recalling the contemporary history of the Ukiyan Empire. In the 4th Century C.M.E., civil wars had plagued the nation, and the provinces were at each other's throats, but that lasted only a century. There were far greater threats than the politician's internal squabble. "And centuries preceding the rise of Sophian churches and their sway in Ukiyan politics."

Atla turned over the pages and paused at Chapter Nine: 'The Corporation that Changed the World'. "It isn't always the Empires and crusaders who tip the balance," Her finger tapped at the opening line, and read: "The Terra Orientis Ukiyan Company's conquest of Ukiya almost certainly remains the supreme act of corporate violence in Yaldaba's history."

"Colonialism?" Korou queried as he skimmed through the content.

"It lasted for over two centuries," Atla nodded, her open white-locks tickling the back of his neck. "Then they stopped, well, the entire world did. Demiurges reached our shore, the crusaders and the Sophian church gained power, and you know the rest."

Korou hummed; he was in deep musing. The Terra Orientis Ukiyan Company, for its mercantile invader origins, in present was the backbone of the Ukiyan economy. He had read so in the stellar work of Damean Mittermeir 'Specter Capitalis', the Zauber economist had described in great detail the need of the privatised trading guilds and companies for the sustenance of the nation's economy as well as the global economy. It had further descriptions, on free market economy, invisible hand et cetra which were irrelevant.

"But why us?"

"Easy to manipulate, barbaric, uncivilised," Atla shrugged, pointing at the cosy winter shelter on the corner. "At least that's what the book says, although Grandma believes it to be a biased overview; reality is far more brutal and bizarre than we could fathom."

"It still doesn't explain the map." Korou sat over the erum seat. It creaked underneath his weight.

"They used our fields for cultivating Poppy," Atla exhaled a misty breath over her palm. Korou gave her a side glance and then gestured towards his pocket. Smiling, she buried her hand in them. "It was destructive, led to unparalleled addiction, and it took Kangleipak nearly two centuries to get rid of it. There were protests, wars, and even rebellions. We almost won our sovereignty, but then Demiurges happened. Ukiya changed overnight, and so did the company. The emperor was coronated, and the company was under them, and then we moved our sights to extermination." Atla paused, glancing at Korou. He motioned her to continue. "But the mistakes of your past don't vanish, so the Imperial court did what they thought was best, burnt our existence from archives. Erased the regions where the drugs were cultivated," she tapped at the semi-etched map. They hoped it would help the upcoming generation forget it, but here we are, thanks to their sloppy work, and not only did they burn their own history, but also our divine archives."

It was a lot to take in. Korou didn't know if this was what Atla meant by teaching him fun. But it was the most elated he had been in months. "You know a lot, Atla!" said Korou earnestly, embracing the fresh volume.

"Hardly," Atla's eyes darted away, refusing to meet Korou's. "I-I- it was grandma, she just taught it for Pariksa-" She stammered, her lips quivering.

Korou leaned over her side. "But even then, you are amazing, Atla!, The information you presented was so well explained and-"

Atla whipped her hand to his side and concealed his lips shut. "S-S-shut up!"

"But I mean it," Korou conjured his most innocent look. Atla shuddered underneath it.

"I hate your lost puppy gaze."

"Sadly, that's the only one I got."

"Yeah, whatever," Atla shook her head with a huff, arms crossed, trying to conceal the crimson creeping across her cheeks. "Not that I mind."

"You will ace the Pariksha!" Korou complimented with a devilish smirk.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Cheeky brat." Atla tugged over his cheeks with a faint smile.

Korou let out a stifled laugh. "You know me too well."

"Whatever am I going to do with you?" Atla heaved a sigh.