Chương 60: Chapter 59: Organic Technology

Once she had calmed down, she took another sip of water, the cool liquid sliding down her throat and anchoring her to reality after the intellectual vertigo of her answers. Then, she stood up and walked directly toward the bookshelves. That day, she was completely alone. Kaela was learning her letters with Elian in the main chamber, Corren had departed for five days, and the entire cave seemed to hold its breath, waiting. She allowed herself to be more curious than on other days.

She took the desk chair and did something she had always wanted to do but had never verbalized: explore the high books. Standing on her tiptoes on the chair, she reached up, stretching her arm toward the spines that had always been out of her reach. An ironic thought crossed her mind: a disadvantage of being short. She sighed, but a smile touched her lips. At least now she could see what those upper shelves were hiding. Her eyes scanned the titles.

From there, she chose the two most distinctive ones: one of a deep black, as if formed from obsidian, and the other of an immaculate bone-white, as if made of ivory. Smiling, she climbed down from the chair carefully, clutching the volumes against her chest like treasures. She moved the chair back to the coralwood desk, set it in its place, and once there, picked up the one with the black spine. She opened it wide. Between its pages lay an unexpected surprise. It was not the language she knew; it was not Erahari.

It was glyph writing, some characters looked directly like roots, twisted and knotty like those of ancient trees. Others, by contrast, were merely smoother or rounded strokes, like river pebbles polished by the current. With a sigh, she left it closed on the desk. It was a language she did not know, something she did not master, a door locked tight. The second was the same. Upon opening the white one, she got the impression that this language was a descendant, or perhaps a distant cousin, of the black enigma.

A branch that had split off long ago and evolved on its own, developing its own forms, its own rules. But beyond that etymological connection, that vague kinship that only someone trained in tongues could intuit, the meaning eluded her completely. They were impenetrable walls of ink, fortresses of meaning to which she had no access. At my fingertips, yet far from my brain's understanding, she thought with great heaviness.

It was the weight of being unable to access as much knowledge as she wanted, of holding the key in her hand but not knowing how to use it. Then another thought arose, sharper and more intuitive: Perhaps that is why Corren keeps them almost hidden. Resigned, she returned to the bookshelves. This time she searched for spines she could read, at least to guide herself through the darkness of her ignorance regarding the other languages.

She ran her fingers over leather and parchment, reading titles, discarding some, starting over. Until her fingers touched one of a faded, almost blurry brown. Its title read:"Technological History of the Duchies: Advances and Stagnations." The author's name was erased; a damp stain or the passage of time had removed any trace of who had written it. That lack of an author attracted her more than anything else. A book without an owner, without a recognizable voice, just like herself.

She took it to the desk and opened it wide. Its pages spoke directly of technological development. It had no introduction whatsoever, a complete rarity that suggested an author who got straight to the point, who felt no need to justify themselves. The bulk of the book was a meticulous timeline, a catalog of inventions stretching across the five thousand years of the Volgthar dynasty.

The abundance was such that the text was divided into clearly demarcated eras, each with its own character, its own achievements, its own obsessions. The Archaic Epoch (Year 0 - 1000 E. R.): The Foundations. Here, the first hesitating steps of a civilization just beginning to understand the world it inhabited were detailed. Sun dials to mark ceremonial rites, the hours of prayer, the moments when sacrifices should be offered.

The discovery of the antiseptic properties of the sap from the silicariel, that tree of translucent wood that early healers learned to use to clean wounds. Water clocks that measured time in the darkness of nocturnal rituals when the sun could not guide them. And the brutal but effective cauterization of wounds with burning resin, sealing the flesh with fire to stop hemorrhages that would otherwise be fatal. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The Era of Consolidation (1001 - 2500 E. R.): The Kingdom Asserts Itself. Great works rose from the earth, such as the aqueducts of the royal capital, bringing water to a population that grew without cease. Measuring tools were perfect: hourglasses that allowed timekeeping anywhere, and magnetized compasses that pointed north even in the thickest of storms. Cartography took its first steps with primitive nautical charts, tracing the coasts of a continent that was only beginning to know itself.

Medicine advanced toward more complex procedures, such as surgical amputations performed with obsidian saws. Even sanitation improved with the construction of vaulted sewers, moving waste away from the cities. The Epoch of the Ducal Renaissance (2501 - 4000 E. R.): Power and Inventiveness Decentralize Toward the Duchies. Ducal capitals were equipped with sewage systems featuring siphons, hydraulic engines that defied gravity. Medicine took a bold leap with nimora skin grafts to treat severe burns.

Optics and navigation were refined with astrolabes using glass lenses, allowing sailors to orient themselves by the stars with never before seeing precision. Engineering defied gravity with suspension bridges whose cables were braided from the resistant chitin of titanopods, ropes stronger than any metal. Distillation techniques were developed to create the first effective anesthetics, allowing surgeries that were previously impossible due to pain.

And the force of the wind began to be harnessed in mills that ground grain and pumped water without human effort. The Modern Era (4001 E. R. - Present): The Last Millennium. Here, technology has become more sophisticated and specialized. Primitive mechanical clocks, still relegated to the most important temples, marked the passage of time with greater precision than any previous method. Navigation was refined with sea current maps, allowing for faster and safer routes.

Water purification through filtration systems spread to more cities, reducing disease. Medicine boasted specialized surgical instruments whose handles were impregnated with antibacterial wax to reduce infections. Even transportation improved with caravans incorporating chitin suspensions for a smoother ride over uneven roads. And at the limits of innovation, for only the last twenty years, experiments were being conducted with composting latrines that used fungal mycelium for the decomposition of waste.

A flash of biotechnology that Selena found fascinatingly familiar. After all, she had already seen it: the bioluminescent beetles at the cave entrance, prisoners in their glass jars, fed that syrupy substance to produce light. The same logic, the same symbiosis between man and the creatures of this world. She smiled, satisfied with her choice, as she finished leafing through. She closed the book gently and stared at the worn cover, letting the ideas settle in her mind.

She understood why Aelthra had been born in this world. Why faith in a goddess of compassion and eternal flow was not an arbitrary imposition, but an almost inevitable conclusion. It was a deeply rooted logic, carved by millennia of tangible experience. How could the people not believe in the Church of the Eternal Sap, in the Flow that connected everything, if they obtained life-saving antiseptics from the sap of the silicariel?

She continued to question herself: How could they not venerate the complexity of an ecosystem that provided them with the wax that lit their nights, the resin that sealed their wounds, and the chitin that allowed them to span bridges over chasms and soften their travels? Every resource, every "material," had an organic origin, a living counterpart.

They did not extract iron from the inert entrails of the earth for most of their things; they harvested, raised, or negotiated with what the world around them, in its strange and abundant generosity, offered. Nature was not an enemy to dominate or a warehouse to exploit. It was a capricious partner, sometimes dangerous, but always present. For them, divinity in a tree or in the shell of an insect was not a poetic abstraction. It was a practical conclusion.

If an "anima," a "flow," an inherent life force in the world was what made resin heal, wax burn without smoke, or chitin be stronger than steel, then it was rational to honor that force, to study it, and to ally with it. That overwhelming naturalness of their faith, which might have previously seemed naive to Selena, now revealed itself as the fruit of symbiotic co-evolution.

They believed in their very marrow because, literally, their survival, their technology, and their very civilization depended on understanding and respecting the rhythms and gifts of this animated world. Selena sighed deeply, letting the book rest on the desk. She felt she was beginning to understand not just how this world worked, but why its people thought as they thought, and believed as they believed.