“A change in government, be it on a large scale or a smaller scale, often leads to other changes. Some of those changes might be good, others might be bad. One thing that remains for certain, however, was that such changes were rarely eternal, as they often shifted along with the era.” - From a lecture by Garth Wainwrought, Professor of Socioeconomy in the Levain Institute for Higher Learning, circa 662 FP.

“So, what are you thinking about?” Aideen asked when she noticed Celia looking lost in her thoughts one sunny afternoon.

“Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking how nice it would have been if my parents and Grandpa could have lived under these conditions,” replied the younger woman with a slightly listless look in her eyes. Celia sighed deeply with some regret evident in her expression as she continued her line of thought. “Things are just so much better now that I wish they could have enjoyed this, rather than perish under the hands of some greedy bastards who had no care for people other than themselves.”

Celia’s feelings of regret were triggered by the change that had swept through her homeland in the past decades. The land that formerly belonged to the County of Lavinja was split into four Baronies by the crown, with the western region – including the village of Azuleis where she was born and raised – now part of the newly established Barony of Milesio.

The contrast between the life she had spent in the region back then and how the region looked now was drastic. Not only was the people in general better off and happier, with farmlands of notably larger areas compared to the past, but they also lived far more relaxedly. Celia recalled her days where she could barely keep the worry that a group of bandits or some of the local lord’s thugs might take some of their belongings at any moment. Such a worry was notably absent in the face of the current residents of the region.

Where the roads that connected the villages to each other and the local town used to be narrow, poorly maintained, and particularly prone to banditry, there were now wide, well-maintained roads easily capable of accommodating four carriages side to side. Patrols of soldiers also regularly traveled the roads, as Aideen and Celia had encountered some of them throughout their journey in the region, and there were no signs of bandits to be seen anywhere.

On their arrival at Ivarles, the one larger town in the region that now served as the seat of the new Baron, they happened to arrive during the annual harvest festival. Farmers from all around the Barony gathered at the town to celebrate the festival, with all manner of fresh produce being hawked and sold in the markets. Animals were slaughtered and cooked, while barrels of ale and mead were opened to quench the thirst of the crowd.

Despite them being strangers to everyone who was in the city, Aideen and Celia had been invited to join in the revelry by the bustling crowd. As they partook in the celebration – with Aideen repaying the kindness of the locals by discreetly working her healing over them – they noticed other things that made them realize just how different the new rulers were.

As the night fell and the moon rose high in the sky, many of the celebrants gathered around a bonfire for a folk dance. Two of the dancers caught Aideen’s attention, that being the aged Baron, a boisterous old man who danced with gusto despite his advanced age which must be pushing the eighties, and his eldest son and heir, who was just as cheerful and boisterous as his old father.

She watched how the old Baron and his heir stripped off their shirts together, dancing topless together with many of the town’s men as they laughed uproariously and sang bawdy tunes off-key at the top of their voices. She even saw the old Baron smooch an elderly townswoman who squared off against him on the dancing floor and then shared a bout of laughter and drink together with her afterwards.

From the information they could gather, the Baron had been a knight who greatly contributed to the Empire in his youth, and he had been granted the title as well as the land after the first expedition’s failures four decades ago. He and his family had ruled the land and brought many positive changes to it, which garnered them the love and respect of their people.

Unlike most nobility, he was once a commoner himself, one fortunate enough to rise up above his station by feats of arms. The Baron had clearly made certain that his family never forgot about their origins, which partly explained why they so eagerly and happily joined the celebration together with the townspeople. Most nobles would have instead set up their own private celebrations in the confines of their estate, rather than ever mingle with the peasants under them like what the Baron and his family did.

They were good nobles, and made the land a better place by their existence, which was why Celia had felt melancholic and wished that her late parents and grandfather could have lived peaceful, happy lives under such conditions. Sadly, they were born in the wrong time and place, almost like a cruel joke from the world at large.

“At least you can take comfort in knowing that what happened to them… what happened to you… will not happen to others, at least for the foreseeable future,” said Aideen as she gave Celia’s back a reassuring pat. She herself had similar regrets in the past, about her own family, similarly wishing that they could have lived their lives more pleasantly under better conditions.

Alas, nobody could change the past.

“Do you think it’ll stay this way even after many generations have passed?” asked Celia.

“Probably. Things could be better or worse in the future. More often than not, we would have no way to tell, at least until we reached that point ourselves,” replied Aideen honestly. “I always wished for the best, but again, wishes don't come true all the time.”

“Fair point.”