The New Savio
We followed Julian toward the center of the city.
The green pillars we had seen up close appeared to be part of some unique spellcraft system. Though their shapes differed, they carried the same aura as totems. Lined up in place of walls, they were likely meant to provide defensive effects in times of crisis.
Beyond them, as we had seen from the ship, stretched rows of homes. Their low fences could be easily stepped over even by children, serving only as the barest markers of division; the yards seemed to flow into one another.
Small livestock wandered the yards alongside children, and short trees bearing tiny fruits or small cone-shaped crops grew here and there.
“……”
The residents watched us from a cautious distance. Their clothing was light, suited to the warm climate, and adorned with ornaments of feathers, jewels, or animal teeth. Simple patterns in vivid primary colors decorated their bare shoulders—beautiful rather than fierce, unlike the markings of the Tumbel Plateau warriors.
“What is that pyramid-shaped building used for?”
“Think of it as a castle. It’s where the ruling family of this city lives and conducts its affairs. Unlike the fortresses of continental lords or nobles, most of its spaces are open to the public. Trials are held there, as are annual events like martial tournaments and festivals. When a respected elder passes, their funeral is also conducted within.”
It resembled the typical structure of a city-state. The distance between leader and people was narrow, and governance valued sentiment and common sense over rigid formality. It looked stable and beautiful at a glance, yet it was a limited utopia sustained only by a small population.
“It seems there isn’t much exchange with the continent, nor even between the islands themselves.”
Aegina voiced the thought I had been considering.
“Correct, Aegina. On the surface, the Grand Council convenes regularly on the central island, and the island leaders follow its decisions. In reality, however, each island is essentially left to fend for itself. Some islands, like this one or the central island, maintain active exchanges and cooperative ties with others, but most continue to live according to their own ways.”
Just as I had expected. Even if resources were limited on each island, active exchange and stable living conditions would inevitably lead to population growth.
It wasn’t merely a matter of new lives being born. People naturally sought better environments, and some islands possessed superior conditions compared to others. Naturally, people would migrate toward those better places. Smaller islands might empty out, while the populations of certain islands and cities would surge. As their numbers grew, so would their power—and that sight would draw even more people.
When those newcomers had children, the population would explode, bringing with it countless problems that could no longer be contained in the current form.
I couldn’t be certain exactly where this island or city ranked within the Parerin Archipelago, but the fact that it maintained this structure despite relatively active continental exchange suggested the outcome was predictable.
“In the end, no matter how vast the territory or how unified the name, it remains a collection of countless small nations.”
Of course, there was no guarantee which system was better. Even if the small nations were unified into a single powerful state, there was no assurance that each resident’s life would improve. For many, the opposite was far more likely.
A sudden change in lifestyle was inevitable, and that change would shake the very foundations beneath their feet.
Along the path to the village center stood a market lined with shops and stalls. Whether the merchants had opened because they knew of our arrival or because we had happened to arrive on market day, each had set out their goods for sale.
The shops were all small, and their wares were largely similar. Food stalls and shops offered nearly identical menus, differing only slightly in the types of fish or fruit being cooked.
“……”
“Understood, Bagloros. We’ll come back to eat later.”
A few shops had yet to open, each displaying signs announcing that goods would soon arrive. It seemed the continental wares brought by the Kruse Merchant Coalition were destined for those stores.
Upon reaching the pyramid-shaped castle, soldiers in ornate uniforms stood guard at the entrance, just as we had seen from the ship. Tall and armed with long spears and swords, they carried themselves with a dignity that belied ordinary guards. Under normal circumstances, they would have been imposing enough to intimidate visitors.
Yet that impression vanished the moment mothers carrying children and young men streamed past them without the slightest hindrance. The guards felt more like decorative ornaments than actual security.
“We are from the Kruse Merchant Coalition.”
When Julian presented a verification document from his coat, one of the guards led us inside. We passed through an open plaza where residents gathered and through doorless corridors before entering the pyramid. We ascended via an inner staircase.
The interior, which I had expected to be dark, was bright thanks to windows and mirrors that channeled light throughout. The walls and pillars, painted in red and yellow, bore intricate carvings depicting patterns and scenes from the ancestors’ lives.
“This way.”
Following the guard, we arrived at the fifth floor. Unlike the lower levels, more than ten male and female soldiers stood watch before a massive door the moment we reached the top of the stairs. The atmosphere here was distinctly different. The carvings were far grander, and though small and thin, gold plaques were embedded in the door, forming beautiful patterns.
Judging by the height we had seen from below, there were many more floors above, yet no stairs were visible. From this level upward, the space was clearly reserved for the residents’ private quarters. There was likely a separate staircase beyond that door.
To show proper respect, Rowell and Aegina removed their hoods, revealing their faces. The gazes of the guard who had escorted us and the soldiers stationed at the door all converged on them at once.
Yes. This was it. Even without knowing their identities, anyone who saw them would react this way.
“Ahem. Ahem.”
It had been a while since I last did this. I cleared my throat for the benefit of the guards still staring in a daze. It brought back memories. This used to happen often in the past.
At the sound, the guards finally snapped out of it. They knocked belatedly and opened the door.
“Welcome. We have been expecting you.”
Inside, a broad-shouldered man seated on a red chair greeted us in a booming voice. He was likely the mayor of this city. Beside him stood five young men, positioned differently from the escort soldiers.
Among them was one youth dressed in attire completely unlike the residents’ clothing—honestly, more like what Rowell or Aegina wore—and ill-suited to the climate. While the others remained captivated by Rowell and Aegina, he only glanced at them briefly before fixing Julian with a rather fierce glare.
“Have you been well, Mayor Nukulagi? Your sons have all grown splendidly.”
“Haha! Indeed they have! Though that only makes things more troublesome. They’ve decided their old father is no longer needed.”
Everyone burst into laughter, but the young man in formal attire could not manage a bright smile.
“More importantly, are the esteemed guests behind you the Hero of Light Rowell and his companions?”
At the mayor’s question, Rowell and Aegina offered polite greetings. The mayor lavished praise upon them with great enthusiasm, yet he remained seated.
Neither Rowell nor Aegina cared about such formalities, and they showed no sign of minding it now—perhaps they did not even register it as discourtesy. Still, when we had visited after the Great War, even emperors and kings of great nations had risen from their thrones to greet us in person.
Watching this mere mayor of an island city behave this way left me distinctly irritated.
Of course, it was possible his legs were impaired. He might require his sons to half-carry him up and down the stairs. I tried to console myself with that thought, and the image of several strong men struggling to lift his massive frame briefly crossed my mind, drawing a faint chuckle. Even so, my impression of the Parerin Archipelago was steadily souring.
“Would it be possible to obtain this Katachua Island’s endorsement so that we may attend the Grand Council on Inanaklan Island?”
Once the formal greetings and pleasantries concluded, Julian moved to the main topic. We had already heard on the ship how such matters typically proceeded.
As outsiders seeking to attend the Grand Council—the gathering of the Parerin Archipelago’s leaders—we required the endorsement of at least one island leader.
“Of course we must provide our endorsement. The Hero of Light has come in person, and the Kruse Merchant Coalition has been a long-standing friend of the Parerin Archipelago since my grandfather’s time.”
“Thank you……”
As Julian began to bow, the mayor raised a hand to stop him, then offered an apologetic expression.
“…However, my name or this city’s endorsement alone would hold no meaning at present.”
“What do you mean?”
The mayor’s face grew bitter and troubled. Suddenly, he raised his right hand and pressed his fingertips to the center of his forehead. His sons and the other soldiers mirrored the gesture exactly.
Julian quietly explained to our puzzled group that this was a gesture of deep respect shown when speaking of their deceased ancestors.
“A few weeks ago, Savio Untu passed on to join his ancestors.”
Julian bowed his head in surprise, and we followed suit.
“You have my condolences.”
According to Julian, “Savio” was the title given to the leaders of the islands. It meant “one who leads to higher places”—not merely a reference to their position, but a recognition that they were the ones capable of guiding their people upward.
“Therefore, his granddaughter and First Priestess, Lady Dinok, has ascended to the title of Savio. Since Savio Dinok has reduced the authority of village chiefs and mayors within Katachua, the only way to obtain the island’s endorsement is to receive her direct permission.”
‘Interesting.’
It was quite the intriguing measure. I did not know the full extent of the authority she had curtailed, but severing all connections to the Grand Council—the central power—except through herself carried significant implications.
“Then, would it be possible to meet Lady Dinok now?”
At Rowell’s question, the mayor offered a somewhat ambiguous smile.
“Lady Dinok has entered prayer at the temple, so an audience is impossible at this moment. Even at the earliest, it would take at least three days before……”
“Did Lady Dinok not receive word that we would be visiting?”
When my voice grew slightly sharp, Julian, Rowell, and Aegina all turned to look at me. One of the mayor’s sons—the one with a build resembling his father—glared at me with clear displeasure, perhaps because I had interrupted.
“We did send word westward, but no particular response was given.”
“I see.”