The Flames of History

As I type these words, the disaster chimes throughout Paaren Disen howl in mercy. What was it this time, an arson spawned by angry Friends of the Dark, or a starving mob raiding a bakery for a few stale crumbs of bread? It does not matter. There is no one to answer the call of duty and restore order to chaos. The city government has collapsed, and the Planetary Council is too divided to act. Traitors walk the Hall of Servants with impunity. It is madness, it is savagery, it is … the collapse of civilization.

My classes for today are cancelled. I have no students to teach. Most people these days have more important affairs to worry about than the contrivances of the past. I, on the other hand, have nothing left but the pages of history. I know not exactly the path that humanity must tread in the coming months and years. As I look out the window, though, onto the streets crawling with burning debris and human refuge, I can glimpse the fires of future strife. History is clear on one matter: pressure can build only so long before it seeks an outlet. The explosion that must follow shall be most indiscriminate in what it destroys.

I have therefore decided to commit to words a brief synopsis of the events that have lead us to this abyss. Whatever flames may burn, something must survive of what once was. Future generations, if there are any, must know what has brought us to this Collapse of Civilization. If nothing else, I write this treatise for my own sake, for my own need to make sense of it all. Perhaps there is no sense to it. Very well. Then, if nothing else, let me dutifully chronicle the march of insanity.

The First Age

There must necessarily be a few words devoted to our lost progenitors. The records on the First Age are fleeting and scattered, the result of the great genocide that washed over the world so many centuries ago. This much is known, though: the Wheel of Time bled itself dry during its first turn. The citizens of the First Age never knew a moment of peace, of security, of tranquility. In this respect, we should not feel so surprised their Age ended in fire and blood. Creator help me, though, I never thought we, the citizens of the Second Age, would pay tribute to them by mimicking their behavior …

The human race began with a few cave dwelling savages who hunted the creatures of nature. In a few millennia they progressed to, well, savages living in industrial monstrosities who preyed on each other. The hallmark of the First Age can be expressed in a paradox. On one hand, we have a remarkable advance in the physical and natural sciences, leading to unparalleled technological achievements, some of which we in the Second Age can only begin to understand. On the other hand, though, we have a noticeable lack of corresponding progress in the social sciences and humanities. That is to say, ethical and societal development in the First Age occurred at a much slower rate than technological advance, and the moral (or rather immoral) nature of the First Age rarely rose above the level of the caveman. It was one bloodbath after another, usually in the service of some trivial cause.

The result of this imbalance was predictable. We have a world of gargantuan cities and constantly improving machines and computers, a world where the secrets of the universe are daily uncovered. Yet we also have a world wherein humanity is fractured, hopelessly divided among mutually antagonistic sects. These sects define themselves in the most absurd terms, whether by some minor differences in racial chemistry, or by allegiance to some artificial geographical construct, or through differing conceptualizations on the nature of the Creator and His relation to humanity. Thus we have an oddity: a people who have assembled some remarkable volumes of knowledge, and who will use it at the slightest provocation in the service of violence against each other.

The First Age was a powder keg ready to ignite. All it needed was a spark. It came in the most unlikely of instances. First Age scientists discovered a massive energy field underlying and uniting all of Time and Space. At first they attempted to harness this energy field using their technology, but they found that their machines were not adept at channeling the power. They soon discovered only biological entities could directly attune themselves to this primal force. The One Power, as it was called, was divided into two equal but opposite polarities, of which males could utilize one field and females another. Through genetic manipulation of its population, wealthy governments in the First Age began producing men and women who could channel the energy in a variety of fashions. The energy was directed towards healing, towards transport, and most suitably towards destruction. These genetically engineered soldiers who could master the One Power, these "channelers" as it were, were born and bred to serve their societies. Thus the Servants came into existence.

We do not know what started the global war. Perhaps the less wealthy societies, who could not engineer their own channelers, feared the military potential of an adversary armed with an army of Servants and thus launched a pre-emptive strike. Perhaps the Servants themselves rebelled at the slavery into which they found themselves, and attempted to take over the world governments. Perhaps the weight of millennia of First Age immorality had simply achieved its pinnacle and sought release in the only manner it could. However it was, the war began. Weapons of mass destruction and the use of the One Power were waged across the planet. All of the major cities were destroyed. The land itself cracked and bled. Governments and industry collapsed. Entire tracts of humanity the world over ceased to exist. Then came the plagues, the starvation, the dust and smoke of a world set to burn. An Age that had survived countless acts of depravity could not endure this. The Wheel had turned, and a new era had begun on the ashes of the old one.

The Second Age

The survivors of the First Age looked out onto a world completely devastated by the ravages of sectarian violence. They reasoned, quite logically, that only a global effort involving all the world's people could rebuild Earth and ensure the survival of the human race. Once the fires, the plagues, and the smoke storms settled, the survivors began meeting to eke out a global culture. Through decades of arguments and countless differences of opinion, a blue print for the New Earth was finally conceived, one that would lend itself well to harmony.

The tribal practice of organized religion was abolished once and for all. Most of the world's peoples were certain of the existence of a Creator, and beyond a vague reverence for Him they no longer cared to speculate about His nature or His charge to humanity. No one saw the point in arguing about that which is ultimately beyond humanity's capacity to know. The glories of the Creator were left, well, to the Creator alone, and humanity concerned itself with other things.

The artificial geographical designations of nations, kingdoms, empires, etc, were also abolished. The world's lands were divided into semi-autonomous districts of a central government, and any differences of opinion between the peoples of differing districts would be settled by the central authority. A global monetary and economic system was also established, as well as common standards for government and commerce, for civil and criminal law.

A global culture needed a global language to support it, and the Founders of the New Order constructed a common means of communication. Linguists from the First Age's most widely spoken languages grafted elements of their languages onto each other, while simultaneously inventing a completely new grammar and syntax capable of conveying an impressive range of nuance and subtlety. The result was a lingua franca called the Common Tongue, which became the official language of the Second Age. At first people continued speaking their native language, only using the Common Tongue to communicate with members of neighboring regions. Eventually, though, the Common Tongue became everybody's first language of choice, and ancestral languages were banished to the realm of quaint ethnic studies.

The central question decided on by the Founders, though, was the channelers' relation to society. Would they renounce their powers and lead normal lives, or would they seek to dominate the new world? In surely the most beneficial act ever to grace human history, the channelers agreed not to misuse their abilities or seek further retribution against non-channelers for the enslavement by the nations of the First Age. They sought instead to serve humanity in a beneficial capacity, to utilize the One Power for healing and helping. Thus the Servants of the old warring nation-states became the Servants of All, and their constructive contributions to their brothers and sisters have served ever since as the linchpin of the Second Age.

It was decided that the use of the One Power would replace most of the existing technology from the First Age. Some of the machines would be spared, those dealing with purely peaceful matters, such as computers, hover cars, and radios. The rest, though, were seen as potentially hostile technology, a reminder of an age where nearly everything mechanical could possibly be applied to purposes of destruction or exploitation. So it was the Second Age rejected the mindless pursuit of technology for its own sake that had been one of the hallmarks of the First Age. For us the peaceful application of the One Power has become the cornerstone of life, and we have lived in peace and plenty ever since.

Until now, until the coming of the Dark One.

The History of the Collapse

We were once as naïve children, blissfully ignorant of anything existing outside our little corner of the universe. In our arrogance we rested comfortably in our superior positions, believing ourselves only one step below an unseen and unfelt Creator. Creation was ours to do with as we saw fit. We could do no wrong, we could commit no atrocity, and no barriers existed to our eventual mastery of existence. Or so we thought. In our quest for knowledge, we discovered the abyss of our ignorance. In our search for truth, we uncovered the lies of our delusions. In our craving for power, we discovered the extent of our weakness.

Mierin and Beidomon Sedais were the foremost One Power scientists at the research institute of the Collam Daan, who for years had conducted ground breaking research in the Sharom, a floating laboratory complex. The world ran abuzz with the excitement of their announcement; somewhere beyond the confines of our everyday universe, they had discovered a potential energy source equally accessible to both genders. The potential to unite both male and female Servant shattered all preexisting barriers. With the two genders submerged into a greater, indivisible whole, it was thought a new golden age would dawn, with wonders and discoveries beyond imagination. While some Traditionalists expressed nervousness about the social implications of this sudden occurrence, the Progressives in control of the Planetary Council championed Mierin's cause without reservation.

The fateful day arrived, and the research team united their powers to probe into this mysterious energy field. Reality itself contorted as a hole tore into the fabric of space and time, the backlash of dark energies sending the Sharom crashing from aerial levitation into a fiery descent. Beidomon and the research time died in the crash. Only Mierin survived, her beautiful body intact, but her mind forever twisted by the horror of what she had unleashed. At that time, though, no one could truly understand what had been set loose upon unsuspecting world.

There was an ineffable thinning in the universe where the Sharom had been, and like a black plague sinister powers spewed forth from the ethereal chasm. Every attempt to reseal the breach failed. Strange weather befell us, storms in one cycle and drought the next to ravage the planetary ecosphere. That was nothing compared to the storms confronting society, though. In an Age where violence and serious crime proved rare, suddenly murders and rape, theft and abuse became everyday occurrences. Neighbor turned against neighbor for fleeting and trivial causes. Blood began running through the streets. A society ill equipped in handling such barbarism began to fray at its seems as the jails filled and the peacekeepers found themselves overwhelmed.

One man alone suspected the truth. Elan Morin Tendroni, a respected scholar of First Age philosophy and theology and a ranking Servant, approached the site of the Sharom accident from several years before, and presented himself to the dark energies to be found there. In that moment he received a revelation, a message from beyond which he transmitted to the world. Mierin and Beidomen had inadvertently carved an opening between our world and another dimension, a layer of reality known as the Bore, whose sole purpose was to incarcerate an ancient entity of unfathomable power. Thus it was the world learned of the existence of the Dark One, sealed by the Creator the moment creation began in a fiery explosion. A nightmare figure, heretofore existing only in the realm of myth and legend, now stood before us with only a small hole between him and our universe.

Elan Morin elected himself the prophet of this dark deity, and preached to the masses of a new order, a time when present creation would be swept away and the Dark One would extricate himself from his prison to create a new universe. Tendroni was the first to give his life and soul to his new master, and began preaching his gospel to the world through every conceivable forum. Expulsion from the Hall of Servants did not stop him, nor did official censor from the Planetary Council. Elan Morin had acquired a global and steadily increasingly following. He merged this following into a social movement known as the Friends of the Dark, whose sole purpose was to prepare humanity for the Dark One's eventual release from the Bore.

The Friends of the Dark penetrated every aspect of society, from lowly to the high, and they began growing through the body politic like a cancerous tumor. The Shadow Party, the political wing of The Friends, began winning majorities in councils throughout the world. Aes Sedai converted in large numbers. Calling themselves Dreadlords, they led the Friends of the Dark to social protest and political rallies. The greatest of these dreadlords were called the Chosen, and this small inner circle plotted civilization's eventual downfall and the coming of the war that was to end human life as we know it.

In the span of a few decades, society began collapsing. Schools closed, peacekeepers and Tribunals dissolved, and councils held little power beyond the confines of their meeting chambers. It was anarchy and moral debasement. The frenzied masses entertained themselves with cruel sports involving death, rape, and torture. Armed gangs, whether Darkfriends or independent criminals, slowly seized control of the means of production and distribution. Riots and looting became daily events, as did arson and vandalism. Starvation and disease reared its ugly head, and everyone understood that armed conflict sat expectantly on the future winds.

Now, little more than a mere hundred years since Mierin unwittingly unleashed evil upon our once prosperous society, the Shadow begins preparing itself for the final domination. Those left in the Hall of Servants and their beleaguered supporters plan their defense. Inane pacifist groups roam the streets, begging for a peaceful compromise that can never be entertained. Most of the population, though, traverses the horrors of daily life, willing to sell their souls to whatever faction can bring order. The first hint of flame, and the fires of war will commence. War, the unthinkable myth from the First Age now suddenly a deadly certainty. Our only questions are when, and where, and how? And what, if anything, will survive?

Jerus Sarneth Kresanus
Aes Sedai
Instructor of Historical Studies
The Hall of Servants

Addendum: Politics during the Collapse.

The basic building blocks of the planetary order are districts. Districts are geographical constructs encompassing a major commercial or cultural area and the towns and villages within its area of influence. Depending upon population density, there may be from a dozen to several dozen districts within a continent sized landmass.

The legislative and executive authorities of the district are vested in a local council, whose members are elected every several years. The senior member of the leading political party becomes the minister, who directs the body so long as s/he enjoys a majority of the council's support. Should the minister loose the council's confidence, the council dissolves and a new election is held. During the Collapse, political coalitions prove unstable and governments fall frequently.

The executive authority of each district is enforced by district peacekeepers. Peacekeepers were, before the Collapse, the only citizens (save for licensed hunters) authorized to use shocklances and armored transports. With the Collapse, firearms have become widespread among every sector of the population and peacekeepers often face street foes more heavily armed than they. Because of their strength, wisdom, and patience, Ogier tended to dominate the peacekeeping ranks.

The judicial authority is invested in various levels of tribunals, all appointed by the district council. Tribunals hold civil and criminal trials, and trial participants may appeal the verdict once. Before the Collapse, only the most honored and respected of citizens could ever hope to be appointed to a tribunal. In recent times, appointments to tribunals are bought and sold as frequently as any other commodity. A tradition widely observed before the Collapse was to have one member of the tribunal an Aes Sedai, one member an Ogier, and another member a non-channeling human.

At the purely local level – town, village, and city – matters are usually decided by all interested adult citizens who gather in the central meeting hall. A show of hands is counted and a simple majority rules. Every community had a central meeting place large enough to hold most of the local population. During the Collapse, many local meeting places were destroyed or otherwise rendered unusable by street violence. Even worse, most citizens have become too apathetic to attend meetings, or else fear the dangers of the street too much to venture outside.

At the planetary level, the political machinery of the district level is simply replicated. Every district elects one representative to the Planetary Council, whose chambers are located in Paaren Dissen. The leader of the most influential party becomes Regent, and directs the council. Judicial matters are decided by the Planetary Tribunal, and all matters are enforced by a special level of peacekeepers. During the Collapse, all members of the planetary government find it prudent to maintain personal bodyguards against potential foes.

Political Parties:

Traditionalists: Before the Collapse, these conservatives sought to maintain the status quo, refusing to accept any social initiative that might disrupt the tried and tested values of the Second Age. They opposed Mierin Sedai's One Power energy research at the Sharom, on the grounds such a potential discovery could throw society into previously undefined trouble. Their measure was defeated by the Progressives. During the Collapse, Traditionalists carry on the futile task of trying to restore the old peace and stability of the Second Age as it existed before the Sharom incident. Many leading figures in the Hall of Servants and among the Ogier support the Traditionalists. They are generally known for being completely vociferous and uncompromising in their opposition to the Shadow.

Progressives: Before the Collapse, this party was considered the radical sector of society, wanting to launch the Second Age into new heights and conduct new explorations. It was they who controlled the government when Mierin Sedai petitioned for her research, and it was they who authorized the now infamous experiment. The Traditionalists successfully pinned the blame for the Sharom incident on their shoulders, and the Progressives have been a small party ever since. However, during the Collapse, they have been able to play the Traditionalists and the Shadow Party against each other, and governments can usually only be formed with their alliance. Thus they carry a power for more potent than their size suggests. In the era of the Collapse, Progressives are seen as centrists. They realize the old ways of the Second Age have forever ended, yet they still hold out for the possibility of a peaceful compromise between the Traditionalists and the Shadow. The Progressives attract as many devious opportunists as they do sincere reformers, and the party is known for something of an amoral pragmatism.

Shadow: the political wing of the Friends of the Dark who were formed by Elan Morin Tendroni in the years following the Sharom incident. They are the radicals who have won increasing margins in councils across the globe. Their goal is nothing less than the complete restructuring of society with The Dark One at its head. They are the pawns of the Chosen, and the Shadow party runs many illicit economic and street-violence operations in an effort to foster chaos. The bitter enemies of the Traditionalists and sometimes ally, sometimes foes of the Progressives. The Shadow party is known for violence and religious fanaticism.

The political demographics of the global population have stratified in recent times. For years the Traditional and Shadow parties have each received about 40% of the seats in the Planetary Council with the Progressives receiving the remaining 20%. To form a government, the Traditionalists and the Shadow must form an alliance with the Progressives. The Progressives tend to play a balance of power scenario and ally with whichever of the two parties seems weaker at the moment.

The Planetary Council wields comparatively little power in recent years, and is ineffectual in dealing with society's endemic problems. Control of the government is primarily seen as an avenue to defend certain interests in preparation for the coming war. The Traditionalists and The Shadow each seek to control the Hall of Servants and vital sectors of the economy. The Progressive intent is to carve out their own empire and hope to either prevent war, or else defend their own interests when war finally commences.

Miscellaneous:

Aes Sedai: many members of the Councils and Tribunals were Aes Sedai. They were influential, but did not dominate. Aes Sedai are equally inclined to support the Traditionalists, the Shadow, or the Progressives.

Ogier: Ogier were found interspersed throughout all levels of government, and especially found a home as peacekeepers. Since Ogier overwhelmingly favor the Conservatives, both the Shadow and the Progressives cannot trust the peacekeepers and have to rely on private security forces.