“Caethlon can be divided into three different terrains: Mountains/foothills, forests and flat empty plains.” The history instructor, an old knight with a long white beard by the name of Ser Zachery, says to the class. “For the first year of the insurgency, the rebels were restricted to hiding in the forests and hills with our own forces having complete control of the food abundant plains as well as fortified towns in the other terrains.”
“What does this have to do with fallen empires?” I whisper to Lucas sitting next to me, annoyed since if I wanted to hear about Caethlon I would have taken the class on it. No, I forsook that curiosity to learn about forces that contribute to societal collapse so I can promote them, but it seems I’ll be hearing about Caethlon anyways.
“He probably wants to preface the subject by linking it to recent events,” Lucas whispers back, annoyingly reasonable.
I look to Preston on my other side for input, but he’s just eagerly taking notes. Not wanting to draw attention, I do likewise.
“This state of affairs was due in part to a flight of sixty wyvern riders pulled from the Hyclion border who patrolled the plains from above, constantly vigilant for attacks against merchants or foot patrols.
“This changed about a year in when the rebels performed a coordinated multi-celled operation against the ridders. They pretended to attack fake merchants to lure the riders in, then, at the last moment, they would all retrieve hidden high powered bows and crossbows and shoot the wyvern in volley.
“Normally these arrows would be enough to wound, but not kill the wyverns, but the rebels had discovered a vulnerability in how our riders attack. The normal technique is to enter a steep dive then spread the wings at the last moment to break to a safe landing speed. This has the advantage of reaching the target as quickly as possible, often before enemy mages can finish casting spells powerful enough to be a danger.
“However, this comes at the cost of manoeuvrability, meaning the wyvern is completely unable to dodge the incoming projectiles. Of course, our wyvern riders were aware of this vulnerability, which they normally avoid by being selective with their targets. However, this turned in the rebel's favour. When surprised by the people the rider was trying to save pulling out crossbows and shooting them, the panic of knowing their vulnerability was often enough to lose control of the descent and crash fatally into the ground.
“We lost nearly a dozen wyverns on the first day of this operation. The flight commander ordered that patrols be done in pairs rather than solo the next day, but we still lost several more, though did at least fare better. It wasn’t until the next day when patrols were done in threes that the rebels were finally forced to stop the operation. By the end though we had lost more than a quarter of the initial sixty wyverns, each one being a several million raem investment.”
I suppose I’m not too annoyed at being reminded of a successful mission, though I keep my wistfulness off my face. Good times were few a far between during the first year.
Our cell was particularly effective at this task due to my ability to cheaply make magic weapons with blood runes. I remember the cheers as the first wyvern hit the ground and not get up. On the second day, we killed two wyverns before they landed when many other cells were completely wiped out. We even killed another and wounded a fifth on the third day, even if we lost half the cell running away when the final one landed unscathed. Still, it was worth the losses, especially if an Arkothan is discussing it in an unrelated history class. And several million raem investments? I guess that sounds about right from what Commander Tasha said, though I hadn’t thought about putting a monetary value to our success until now.
“While the decision to triple the patrol size stopped the rebel operation, it had its own problems. First, we were unable to send additional wyverns to reinforce the losses. While the empire has in our possession more than a thousand mounts and riders, they are spread thin across vital areas. Indeed, the sixty were already taken from areas that were made vulnerable by their absence and could not afford to divert more.
“With that in mind, many argued that patrols of three were not enough, and that four or five were needed. Since there was a belief that, should the rebels had been willing to absorb the necessary losses, losing another fifteen wyverns might have been enough to entice Hyclion to intervene.
“Ultimately though it was decided that the necessary losses for the rebels to achieve this would have collapsed the rebellion anyway, and that greater patrol coverage was vital for maintaining control of the plains.
“Unfortunately said control became tenuous at best anyways, since tripling up the patrol wyverns opened holes that the rebels exploited. Their main activity was to attack farmers and merchants to incite widespread uprisings in the towns affected by the food shortages. A strategy that may have worked if we had given them more time, but in the end only Fluemberg revolted over food.
“This brings us to our first theory of fallen empires – bottlenecked assets.”
Finally.
“When territories increase, the assets it produces also increase, but so does the need for those assets. The problem lies in that the rates of increase vary for each asset type. Production usually increases linearly, but not always. In the case of rare assets, they often increase in sudden jumps.
“In contrast, increase in consumption varies drastically. Some consumption increases morely slowly than increase in production, many increase at about the same rate, but some rare resources increase in consumption much faster than they do production.
“These are called bottleneck assets. The general theory is that it is dangerous to expand territory farther until this imbalance is remedied. However, it’s very difficult for an expansionistic empire to recognize when this happens, and so they continue to expand heedless of the danger. Usually, the empire will encounter a theoretically much weaker opponent who deals an unexpected blow against an asset spread too thin.
“Other assets can be used to compensate, but not as effectively, and so will cause knock on effects throughout the empire. Expansion will usually halt with the belief that it’s a temporary measure, only for pressures to mount from opportunistic surrounding states who sense weakness. Territory will contract slowly over the next several decades until the empire is no longer the dominant power in the region. Whether they can survive at all after this seems random.”
Oh, so we just have to defeat them militarily. Of course, didn’t I think of that?… Though I suppose it does give me an approach, as being on the inside will help me select assets that might be bottlenecks. However, I am hoping there will be other insights I can use before the next rebellion.
“Using Caethlon as an example,” he continues to plod on, “there were two potential bottlenecked assets. First are the wyverns. Thirty years ago, during our brief war with Hyclion, we had more than enough wyverns to patrol our borders and sensitive areas. However, wyvern reproduction is slow, and the kingdoms we’ve added since then seldom had any of their own to add to our forces. As such, we’ve been forced to spread them dangerously thin. While wyverns are expensive, the territories they patrol are hazardous and would be even more costly to do so by land. The rebels didn’t quite cause enough damage for the feared knock on effect, but some believe it was a close thing.
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“The second potential bottleneck asset was the destruction of the chimeric masters. The rebels actually succeeded in destroying a much greater portion of them than the wyverns, but we are less reliant on them, so the effect was only slightly greater. Still, it was an extensive loss which we will likely need decades to recover. Enough that some fear it might cause a knock on effect, especially should we go to war with Hycion.
“Still, not everyone agrees with the bottleneck asset theory of civilization collapse, citing correlation rather than causation. There are many other theories to explain the fall of the ancient civilizations, which I understand many of you are eager to discuss. Understandable given the constant question of when our turn might be. However, these theories are not the focus of this class, though we will discuss them. Rather, we will spend most of our time discussing what we know about the culture and history of these lost civilizations, even if much of it is unfortunately myth and legend.
“For instance, it’s a not uncommon belief that the first known civilization, the Indarans, spawned the first deities. Many find this unlikely though, as there are very few instances of known mortal accession. Though they were known for having powerful magic, which lends credence to the theory. Though others still argue that the reputation for magical prowess has been inflated, and that modern magic has advanced well past them. Though even they admit that the few magical artifacts that have survived often produce strange and irreplicable effects.
“What is known however is that they existed approximately four thousand years ago and were located in…”
The lecture continues with a timeline and description of the standard fallen empires. No new insights, but I suppose this was just an introduction to the subject. It’s a very dry lecture, but I suppose that is an indication that future classes will be informative.
Still, I find myself stretching as if waking up at the end, as do many throughout the room. It’s not that I found the subject boring, the opposite in fact, it’s just that his voice is very lulling. Maybe I’ll fare better when he’s going over material that’s not a review for me. “So, what do you think about the asset theory?” I ask the two next to me, neither of whom seem tired.
Lucas shrugs. “I suppose it’s reasonable, though I’ve always held that societal collapse is from value decay. That an empire grows strong from the presence of certain virtues, but upon success gradually see those virtues as unnecessarily arduous and abandons them, causing their gradual decline.”
“You sound like Greg,” I say, stopping a smirk from knowing that Greg views the Talhals as slightly declined in virtue themselves, albeit less so than most.
“Do I? Hmm.”
“So, do you think that empires just have a natural lifespan, and that decline is inevitable despite what anyone does to stop or hasten it?”
“More or less. After all, most empires have similar ages when they fall. The shortest being three hundred years and the longest being about a thousand.”
“I don’t think that’s right,” Preston says from my other side. “I think that the similar ages can be explained by statistics and by limiting the scope. It’s not that all empires have lasted three hundred years or more, which would suggest a process, but that any civilizations that lasted less than that were over too quickly for us to talk about. After all, how many would be empires have we cut short by conquest? Likewise, empires face constant threats. Odds are one of them will find purchase given enough time.”
“So, you think it’s basically random when an empire falls?” Lucas asks.
“Mmm, mostly, yes,” Preston nods.
“Then what’s the point of even studying history?” Lucas asks.
“Well, for one it’s interesting. Two, there’s a difference between acting on a societal scale and on an individual one. Even if I think nothing can be changed big picture, that doesn’t mean I can’t benefit from my studies. Finally, while I think that falls are mostly due to external factors, which are fundamentally random, that doesn’t mean we can’t prepare for them by studying past ones and maybe even forestalling doom.”
“But isn’t it the case that society’s willingness to study the past and prepare by it waxes and wanes over time, which could be described as a process rather than being random?” Lucas counters.
Preston shrugs. “Possibly. Though if it is a process, it’s not one that causes the fall in a strict sense. Since a civilization can be unprepared for any amount of time without issue so long as the random external factor doesn’t arrive.”
“So, what are you doing here Malichi?” a voice full of scorn rudely interrupts our conversation from behind.
“As you see, Fenhal,” I say, without turning to look at the squire. I saw Bryant when I came in, but he thankfully seemed disinclined to harass me before class. What could have made him change his mind?
“Didn’t you say you had no interest in history?” Bryant says, his voice still full of ire.
Ah. That would be why. He likely assumed I took the class as a requirement, but that wouldn’t mesh with staying after to discuss it. Unfortunately, the dossier didn’t go into Malichi’s interests, as they likely assumed nobody outside of the territory knew him enough to notice a change.
“Did I now?” I say, going for the faulty memory approach.
“Yes, you said you had no interest in dusty, mouldy things.”
“I’m certain I just meant you.”
The look of embarrassed indignation is not sufficient payback for his excessive kick during the sword tournament, but it’s a start.
“Well, then I suppose you don’t want to hear what I think about the subject?”
Ah, so that’s what’s going on. History must be a subject of special interest to Byrant, but was mocked when he brought it up to the real Malichi who proceeded to best Bryant in their sword training. Injury to the insult. It’s why he was so intent on besting me in the sword tournament, to prove himself adequate in Malichi’s chosen field. Likely why it wasn’t mentioned in the dossier too, as it was probably a big deal for Byrant, but hardly noticed by Malichi.
If this supposition is correct, then my response was a mistake. A confirmation that every interaction ‘I’ have with him is a hidden, or not so hidden, insult. Still, it shouldn’t be too hard to overcome.
“On the contrary,” I say with a polite smile, “I’m very interested in your perspective.”
“Oh, right then,” he stiffens in surprise. “Well, I, um, think it’s to do with military readiness. People are more willing to fight when their kingdom is small and a single defeat could mean destruction. With this attitude, and some luck, they succeed in expanding their territory until they’re the dominant force in the area. Then they keep expanding out of inertia until two things happen. First, they build up enough resentment from their neighbours for them to band together, either formally or by accident. Second, the populace – feeling security from their distant borders – no longer feel compelled to fight personally, and so the army is weakened enough to be defeated.”
“I see,” I say, “so another vote for Lucas’s ‘value decline process’ theory. Just a more specific version of it.”
“If you’re going to be so dismissive, then perhaps you’d like to share your theory?” Bryrant stiffens slightly flustered.
“I wasn’t being dismissive, just noticing the similarities. As for my theory, I lack one, which is why I’m taking this class.”
Lucas scoffs, doubtlessly looking for another way to assess me. “Oh, come now, you must have some thoughts on the issue. We told you ours, it’s only fair if you do the same.”
“Sigh, I suppose…” I pause to collect my thoughts before continuing. Once again it seems this innocuous request for an opinion might impact my relationship with his hole family, so I best give it some effort. “Well, if you must know, I’m dubious of the value process approaches. It smacks of old people forgetting the folly of their youth and assuming that anything new is vicious. But more importantly, as Preston said, it doesn’t make sense as a sole explainer. Beyond what he said though, it doesn’t explain why the process should result in catastrophe rather than a moderately successful equilibrium point. Since the core premise is that the initial hard times of a small people group creates the values needed to succeed, and that the success eliminates the values that created it.
“But under this model, ultimate failure should take decades or even centuries. So, shouldn’t the failures that start the decline also start a reversal of the value decay? If so, shouldn’t that also stop the decline? Wouldn’t it make sense that there be some middle point of success that the empire fluctuates around in smaller and smaller variation?
“So, if there is a process, then I still don’t think it’s sufficient for a fall. I think there must still be some sudden and random event to cause catastrophe. Moreover, the low point might make the empire more vulnerable to destruction, but I don’t think the highpoint is immune either. Therefore, the process can’t be causal.”
Byrant glowers. “Did you want to hear my position just so you could find reasons to dismiss it?”
I give a ‘taken aback’ look. “On the contrary, I wanted to hear it to refine my own thoughts, which it obviously has, so thank you.”
He stiffens again with a slight nod, “Very well, I see how it is. Good day Monhal.” He turns with a moody flourish and leaves.
“What’s his problem?” Lucas asks after he’s gone, but likely not outside of the hearing range for a squire.
I sigh. “I wish I knew.”