Yellow Flowers of Tomorrow – 明日黃花
9 February, 1016 / 雨晴45年2月9日
Skywell carefully pried the oolong tea leaves into a porcelain gaiwan.
The kirin stallion sat on the floor in his office, with a slatted tea table in front of him. On top of the table were several cups of various sizes, and next to the table was a kettle on top of a pinkish flame. His coat was a faint reddish gray, contrasted by his forest green mane. He was dressed in a striped white dress shirt and a vibrantly colored orange and purple necktie; Skywell didn't mind wearing more colorful Kirian robes, but in this kind of profession they came off as informal or worse, made kirins like him look culturally backwards. It was merely a decade since the Silence had ended, and first impressions were important.
The kettle shook and steamed as the water inside boiled. Skywell put out his nirik flames with his hoof, then levitated the kettle to pour the hot water onto the cups and gaiwan, rinsing the tea leaves inside. After a minute, he dumped the water into the table slats, using the lid to filter tea leaves from spilling out.
It was hard to imagine that a little more than three years ago, Skywell was dressed in an officer's uniform. Six years ago, he was sent to the western front to deal with the heretical rebels who called themselves the Rising Fire and challenged Matriarch Rain Shine's authority. Growing up in Verdant, Skywell was aware of their ideas of radical egalitarianism and communal living.
But he knew better. Prior to the civil war, he was one of the few lucky kirins who had studied at a university in the distant continent of Griffonia under a scholarship program, acquiring a degree in architecture with honors. The Rising Fire had similarities to other radical movements that the ponies and griffons called "communism", which has produced its own fair share of violent revolutions. What they would bring would not be equality, but an inferno of nirik lawlessness.
Skywell waited for the boiling water to simmer down to a gentle sizzle before pouring the water into the gaiwan and covering the top. Afterwards, he tilted the gaiwan's lid and poured it into a small glass pitcher. The tea ceremonies of Verdant were an art form of their own; heat and brew the tea too quickly and the tea would taste flat, but too long and it would taste too acrid. In a way, it represented the Way of Fire and a way to test a kirin's patience and control over their own magic.
Skywell looked up as he heard a soft knock on his office door. He could spot the silhouette of a brown kirin through the tinted glass panel. "Come in," he answered, gently pouring the oolong tea into a round teacup.
The door swung open, revealing a kirin mare with a red mane faded by advanced age and a light brown coat, much like the color of aged parchment. She wore a set of circular glasses in front of her purple eyes. The mare trotted towards Skywell, levitating a small stack of papers in front of her chest. "Are...are you Mr. Skywell?" she asked, bowing down low enough that her head almost touched the floor. "I'm very sorry for taking up your time, but I've come to make a request."
Skywell stared at the elderly mare in surprise and stood up, returning the gesture with a shorter bow. He was only in his twenties, and yet this mare who was in her late sixties – almost as old as Matriarch Rain Shine herself – was being so deferential towards him. "No need to be sorry, madam. Care for a cup of tea?" he offered with a smile, pouring a second cup with tea. "These are Iron Concord leaves, from the hills of Hyacinth."
"Thank you, kind sir," she replied, getting up from her bow and accepting the teacup with her magic. She inched the cup close to her muzzle and took a sip; the oolong tea had a floral aroma and a sweet and fruity taste that was not too overwhelming. "You are a very good tea brewer."
"You flatter me, madam. A long-lived mare like you deserves some hospitality," Skywell chuckled, taking a sip from his own teacup. "May I know your name? It seems that there is something bothering you."
"My name is Ink Wash. I heard that you were the leading architect for the new project being planned for the city center. I was hoping we can discuss it personally," she explained more slowly this time, handing Skywell a sheet of paper. "It's the block at the intersection of Nanmen and Yongan."
So that's what she's here for. Skywell gave the paper a quick read; it was a petition demanding the reconstruction of burned down housing and a city park used by the locals in Chrysanthemum's Central District. Most of Chrysanthemum had been spared from the worst of the fighting, as most of the Rising Fire had fled west before the Vermillion Banner Army surrounded the city, ceasing to become a serious threat. However, the banner-kirins had trouble keeping order in the aftermath, with civilians flying into a panicked nirik rage and burning down several blocks in the Central District.
This was where Skywell came in – the Realm needed young kirins like him with the intellectual skills to rebuild the country and continue where the ambitious 3½ Year Plan had failed. With a rubber stamp by the Ministry of the Interior to approve funding for his project, Skywell drafted his lofty plans for redeveloping the Central District by 1020. Such a project would not only replace those aging, overcrowded tenements, but would bring Chrysanthemum one step closer to the coastal Kirian cities like Fragrance and Rhapsody, or possibly modern, efficient cities like Mount Aris or Manehatten in the distant future.
In the meantime, he was provided with a courtyard house, located just north of the Central District across the newly constructed railroad tracks, and renovated with amenities such as electric lights, running water, and ceiling fans to deal with the late summer heat. The Interior, however, warned of him going into the city unattended. Before the war, the Rising Fire enjoyed widespread support in Chrysanthemum; they may be gone, but there was still the possibility of remnant insurgents or sympathizers who would try and kill kirins like him, if not for the cause then at least out of revenge.
The stallion took two more sips from his cup and placed it down on the tea table. "I see. Have you discussed it with the Interior and the Urban Reconstruction Authority? My job is only concerned with the building designs, Mrs. Ink Wash. If you have experienced a loss of property, there is a procedure for monetary compensation-"
"I've gone to every ministry and committee," Ink Wash interrupted. "They refused to listen to me, referring me to one ministry after another. I had no other choice but to find you. Maybe you can listen to reason."
Skywell sighed. "It's been a hard time for many kirins in the Realm. Chrysanthemum's not the only city that has been scarred by the war. There are cities like Sorghum and Sycee that are trying to rebuild. Even my hometown of Verdant was damaged by shelling. You can forgive the bureaucrats for being slow to respond to your requests."
"They are not slow; they are purposefully making me run in circles so they don't have to listen to me," Ink Wash shook her head and pointed to the petition paper. "And I don't want money. I just want you to think about the lives of the common-kirin that you hold power over. How old are you, Mr. Skywell?"
"I am twenty-five, madam."
"So you have fought in the war?"
"Everyone my age has," Skywell answered, glimpsing at his office table. He had a Blautal pistol imported from the Griffonian Empire for self-defense hidden behind his table drawers in case the mare tried anything drastic. "I served as a logistics officer under the Equinox Red Banner."
The mare pushed her glasses and finished her cup. "I had a grandson around your age. He had lost his mother from illness, and I took care of him up until he grew into a mature stallion. Five years ago, he signed up for the Incarnadine Soldiery of the Rising Fire," Ink Wash took a lengthy pause. Her voice briefly cracked, but she held her composure. "His heart was in the right place, but he was too headstrong. Sometimes, I wonder if I should have stopped him."
Skywell bit his lip and took a second bow. It was a tale all too common in these lands. The Rising Fire had fervor, but fervor could only get them so far when they were facing rifles with swords. "I'm deeply sorry to hear that. No mother should experience that," he consoled, refilling the empty cup with tea. "Would you like a second serving? It will help calm your mind."
Ink Wash nodded and quietly sipped the cup. "Your personality reminds me of my son. You may not be risking your life in a war, but I am afraid that your idealism would drive you to do something that you will come to regret later. Please reconsider your project, Mr. Skywell."
"I can't do that," Skywell levitated one of the drawers open, pulling out a large sketch notebook and opening it to a dog-eared page. On it was a map of a section of Chrysanthemum. Next to the map was a conceptual sketch of the redeveloped area highlighted in yellow, showing a clean six-lane asphalt boulevard leading down to an irregularly shaped, multi-level plaza flanked by civic office buildings. At the center was the planned provincial capitol building, built in a sleek Art Deco style and dominating the city's skyline with its tower. He flipped to the next page to reveal more of his project: an 8-story department store complimented by a parking garage, a theater, and a fine arts museum.
"You see this project's potential? I want to create a new Kirian city, one unshackled by the past. One where kirins can look towards a future of progress and development," Skywell continued, assertively tapping the sketches with his hoof. "Chrysanthemum was a city neglected by the Realm, doomed to slowly die during the Silence. This project will bring it new life and meaning."
"And what about the residents? What would happen to them?" Ink Wash questioned, putting down her teacup. "My house was destroyed by nirik fire when the Banners arrived. You will be building on top of its ruins. I am fortunate that I have a sister who is willing to house my family in the meantime, but many others are not so lucky."
"The project will include public housing blocks for the displaced to live in with fair compensation," Skywell reassured, waving his hoof dismissively.
"They won't be at the same location. You are aware of that," Ink Wash retorted. "Maybe not even the same city. You are dooming kirins like us to disperse like sparks much like the Silence a century ago. How is that different?"
Skywell slammed his hoof in frustration, causing the teacup to tip over and spill onto the tea table. "Listen, this is nothing like the Silence! I just want the best for the city – to make it a beacon of progress in line with the other Kirian cities!" he raised his voice. "The Realm is less developed compared to many countries in the world, much less Equestria. Sooner or later the world will leave us behind if we do not follow in their hoofsteps. I don't want us kirins being treated like uncivilized rabble. By Concord, is that too much to ask?"
Ink Wash recoiled back, staring directly at Skywell's hooves in shock. The stallion glanced down, noticing that his hooves were burning holes through the notebook, and part of his mane and his left eye were covered in pinkish flame that were almost raging out of control. Skywell swiftly closed his eyes shut, taking measured breaths to calm himself, the flames gradually subsiding in the process. "E-excuse my rudeness, Mrs. Ink Wash," he added hurriedly, bowing down three times with his ears pinned back.
"You are right. The past has ruined us. I have spent most of my adulthood experiencing nothing but the Silence. It is unfortunate that the young have to face the consequences that the previous generations have brought upon them. As an old mare, I do not matter anymore," she admitted calmly as she righted the teacup back up. "...but you still do. Rise, please."
Ink Wash smiled weakly at Skywell as he got up, placing her hoof on the burnt hole. "You are a good kirin, Mr. Skywell, especially if you chose to listen to an old mare like me. Your ambition is admirable, but ambition is like fire – fire can create, but it can also destroy," she continued. "I agree that we shouldn't try to rebuild what once existed. Build something new and better than before, but don't let your goals blind you to what others think. Don't let the common-kirin suffer at your expense."
Skywell opened his eyes and exhaled after a deep breath. "You've certainly given me a lot of thought, Mrs. Ink Wash. Is there anything else you would like to discuss?"
The mare shook her head. "I've said all that I could. If you want to continue with your project, I cannot stop you. In any case, farewell," Ink Wash gave a short bow before leaving her office in a gentle trot.
Skywell listened to the mare trot down the courtyard and waited a few minutes in silence, looking down at his notebook in contemplation. He had never ventured alone into the Central District, only seeing the city through models and sketches.
He levitated his saddlebags onto his back and trotted out of the office. There was one place where he needed to go.
Skywell trotted down uneasily on Nanmen Road, or at least he assumed it was. Chrysanthemum, being so far inland and underdeveloped, lacked formal road signage. He could only make an educated guess based on the old city wall ruins of the South Gate further down where the road had gotten its namesake. It was well past noon, the sweltering heat forcing the stallion to don a khaki fedora to shade his head. The young architect looked completely out of place in comparison to the local residents around him – many kirins continued to wear their cloth headgear and robes unlike their coastal counterparts.
The street was lined with buildings constructed with features typical in the Kirian architectural style, with its hip roofs and use of complex wooden joinery. The buildings and roads were clearly built to account for their volatile magic; the foundations were largely made of brick, while the roads were paved with evenly spaced stone bricks to allow for water permeability and to contain fires. Unlike the kirin cities further north, however, the buildings in Chrysanthemum were less garish and had earthier colors to account for the wet summer seasons.
Besides the odd look, most of the locals seemed to be more concerned with their own business. Some kirin idled near the food stands along the road, and businesses hung large cloth banners advertising their wares. It was a scene that he was familiar with back in his hometown of Verdant, though the spark of modernization had hit that city much faster after the Silence than here.
Eventually, Skywell arrived at the blocks that he had spent hundreds of hours drafting plans for. The blocks lay barren, the ashen rubble having long been cleaned up, leaving the shophouses with their brick bases and damaged walls. Grass had overgrown on the edges of the narrow foundations. He tried to imagine what these city blocks would look like in his head, should his plans be fulfilled – it would certainly be grandiose and put many Kirian cities to shame.
But what if there were kirins...no, creatures like me, who wanted to impose their idea of a perfect society onto others? he thought, his eyes stopping at two kirin foals in front of him. They were playing hoofball against one of the standing walls of the ruins, bucking the leather ball back and forth and trying to catch it with their hooves. Maybe that's how the civil war started. Fire can create, but it can also destroy...
"Mister?" a white kirin filly suddenly asked. "Are you alright?"
Skywell blinked and looked down at the juvenile. "Oh. It's nothing, little filly," he answered. "Isn't it unsafe to play in such a place?"
"We're being extra careful," she grinned. "We used to have a field in the playground, but..."
The stallion raised his hoof. "I understand. Say, I've heard that the city's building this place back up. Homes, shops, teahouses, and even the playground," Skywell remarked. "So you two like playing hoofball?"
"Yeah, we do!" a yellow colt exclaimed, levitating the leather ball with his magic, though not without significant effort. "I read it in a book. The Equestions like to play it all the time."
"Equestrians," Skywell corrected. Neither of these two are old enough to remember the Silence. "How about a match, then? Both of you versus me. Though I played a little hoofball during my time in Griffonia, so I won't go easy on you two..."
"Bring it, mister! We're gonna beat your flank together!" the filly challenged.
And it was there, on top of the ruins and surrounded by the burned blocks of Chrysanthemum, that Skywell had created a new plan. One that would surpass his sketches and building models, one that would become a better city for every kirin to live in, and most importantly, one where the next generation would not have to live with the mistakes of the past.
