Those That Learn: The Tale of Hugo
Pretty annoying, isn't it? Well, that's what people are faced with when they take people like me for granted. See, I'm a scholar--a young one at that, but a scholar nevertheless. It's my job to document everything relevant (and a few things irrelevant, though I won't say what the difference is), and as you'll soon find out, I pull it off quite nicely.
Did you notice that big blank space up there? Yes, rather empty, is it not? Well, without people like me around, that's what the world would be faced with. Just think about it. No more propaganda, no more histories, no more romance and fantasy novels, no newspapers or magazines… in fact, if you pull away the scribes and scholars of the world, you will pretty much have nothing left. There would be no communication, no warning of war, no beautiful poems, no harsh statements, and no information.
I may sound like I am going overboard, but just consider it for awhile. If the world became truly void of all peoples of writing profession, what would happen, really? There'd be no newspapers at least--of course, there'd also be no novels, or no histories, or plays… The list could go on, but I need to make my point. The world needs people like me, not just to tell them what's happening, but to encourage them to do something about it. When was the last time a novel made you stand up and shout, or a poem make you swoon with love? If so, then where would you be without scholars?
Some may scoff at my declaration. Some may say that all this is unimportant. Let me lay the hammer down cold turkey and say that they are of the foolish breed. As the philosopher said, "those that do not learn from the past are condemned to repeat it". These ignorant few, and trust me when I say that there is only a few of these people around, will be the ones forced to reckon for their own mistakes. Allow me to elaborate, and perhaps explain about a time when all men were such fools.
Long ago, there were two cousins that fought over the same land, Ruegner and Barbarossa. Those of the learned ilk know what I refer to, but for the layman, I'll elaborate. Ruegner and Barbarossa each claimed the great lands that were left over from the Harmonia struggles, and they each fought bitterly in what is now known as the Succession Wars. Barbarossa possibly outmatched Ruegner due to the fact that he had six competent generals and Leon and Mathiu Silverberg, but do not doubt me when I say that Ruegner held his own.
Barbarossa eventually killed Ruegner and staked the claim to his lands. These lush and fertile vallies later became known as the Scarlet Moon Empire, and the victor of the wars its Emperor. One would thus conclude that, since the wars were over and the "villain" defeated, peace would inevitably follow. Here comes the philosopher's wisdom.
These lands grew slack and lazy, and shifted into corruption and villainy themselves. A rebellion, a civil war, eventually sprung forth out of the quagmire of discord, and I among many others participated in it (this is why there is a detailed history of the civil war!). The war was long and quite bloody (I myself suffered a minor wound while engaged in battle), but in the end Barbarossa was killed and a new heir to the throne rose up. The philosopher, however, remained loud as ever.
Only three years passed before more war escalated--this time in regions far north of Toran. I myself was assisting a friend in documenting the life of Mathiu Silverberg when I heard the news, so I took over my friend's research while she helped in the war effort. I quickly became disgusted at how uneducated (because they did not learn from past mistakes) these people truly were, and I set about making sure that somebody learned.
In a bold and fearless style that accompanies only the hardiest of scholars, I set about making a record of the war. Harshly and bluntly did I describe everything, from the sputtering final words of victims not yet dead to the rallying cry for more blood and fighting. I was in Muse when a massive slaughter took place, and nearly escaped with my life to tell the tale; I was in Toto and Ryube when they were burned to the ground; I saw the devastation that had been inflicted at Greenhill, my old school. Although saddened by such losses, I did not cease to spread the word of war to the layman's ears.
This was actually my purpose. Through a long series of scorching letters, I pointed out the cold truth of the war in hopes that people would never repeat its mistakes. I wrote about orphans and widows who lost families, I wrote about soldiers killing without conscience, I wrote about how people readily betrayed lifelong friends, I wrote about the senseless destruction and the fanatical drive towards oblivion. And when the war finally came to a shivering end, my documents were ready to be read.
The results, needless to say, were mixed. Many people became enraged at what I had written, but most of them were angry for the right reason. Holy anger spewed from their mouths, and thousands of people rallied behind the ideals of peace. Only a select few criticized my works, saying that they distorted things and that the war was never as bad as I portrayed it. I wrote my works anonymously for safety's sake, so I couldn't very well reveal myself and explain the truth behind the wars.
Well, the land has been in peace for some time now. I wonder who is responsible for that!! Seriously, though, I contribute what I can. If I can stir a soul or cause violent minds to lay down their arms, then I have done my job. But I am not a fool. I know there will be people in the future that forget about the wars. I know that the green grasses will one day beg for blood again. I know there will come a time when enmity and discord root out peace and agreement, and I know that the banners of war will flap once again. I am not a fool; I expect this to happen. Of course, this only means that I must pick up my pen once again, and show people the true nature of war while they still have eyes to see and ears to hear. I will continue my crusade until I die, or until war becomes a forbidden memory.
(Excerpted from "The True Nature of War" by Hugo Valance. This particular copy was found buried with him, very much intact even after forty years of being submerged underground. Hs words have yet to be heeded.)