Holm Kingdom, Pervis County, the small town of Samara.
At the tail end of the Golden Moon, the nights were beginning to creep in earlier. The hour when the setting sun once dyed everything in shades of red had grown dim and dusky. But Pervis County was one of the top three most prosperous regions in the Holm Kingdom, and even the streets of small-town Samara were lined with lampposts and utility poles. Magic crystal lamps, connected by electrical wires, had begun to bloom with brilliant, clear radiance, pushing the darkness away from every corner they illuminated.
Citizens of the small town walked out in twos and threes, strolling toward the only square — Baron Bechig Square — where the city hall had installed a magic broadcast device. Whenever night fell, the device would emit a "loud voice," delivering programs like "Voice of Mystery" to everyone.
With more and more broadcast channels becoming available, the townspeople found themselves plagued by indecision. "Voice of Mystery" was excellent and everyone's first choice, but no program could satisfy all tastes, so each listener had some segment of "Voice of Mystery" they disliked. Unfortunately, the magic radio didn't belong to them, and there was no way to "switch channels" when such segments came on.
"I have to work hard and save up to buy a magic radio from 'Element's Gift'!" declared young man Banus, clenching his fist. He was wearing a short jacket.
His companion beside him said with a mix of envy and longing, "I heard that in big cities like Lentat, anyone who subscribes to a newspaper for a year gets a free magic radio!"
"Really? That's so much cheaper! Aren't those newspaper sellers afraid of going bankrupt?" Banus asked in disbelief — this was something he had never heard of before.
His companion was a freckle-faced older boy. He smoothed his hair and said, "I heard these newspapers are all run by the radio stations themselves, mainly to boost magic radio coverage. Her Majesty even signed and promulgated the 'Broadcasting Development Promotion Decree' submitted by Parliament. Every time a station gives away a magic radio, it receives financial subsidies and tax reductions within a certain range. And moreover…"
His voice gradually dropped as he put on a mysterious air. "I heard there's also the Mage Parliament pushing things from behind. They give massive subsidies to the radio stations through advertising placements, so the stations basically don't lose money…"
"Mages?" Banus grew excited, then suddenly caught on. "Right! They developed the magic radio — the more they sell, the more they naturally earn!"
"Of course. Did you think mages who study the nature of the world would be fools? They're much smarter than you!" the older boy teased.
As for the political implications, the two of them understood nothing.
Banus suddenly said, "Huh?
He had only now realized something odd — how had a companion with the same level of knowledge as himself suddenly turned into a scholar?
The older boy Ali crooked his finger and, though his voice was low, said with great smugness, "Someone told me. A noble lady from Lentat!"
"A noble lady from Lentat? How could you possibly know a noble lady from Lentat!" Banus was completely stunned. For people from a small town like theirs, even with the broadened horizons brought by "Voice of Mystery," they still felt an instinctive reverence toward their own local nobility — believing them unreachably lofty, their lives luxurious and indulgent, their world entirely separate from their own.
And when compared to the nobility of the capital Lentat, the nobility of a small town were nothing. If the nobility of Lentat were swans, and the nobility of Pervis County's seat were white geese, then the nobility of a small town were at best ugly ducklings — a term borrowed from "Voice of Mystery." These small-town nobles' greatest hobby was chasing Lentat's latest trends, imitating the capital's nobility in dress, daily manners, and entertainment.
The small-town nobles had this mentality, and ordinary citizens like Banus felt it all the more acutely — deep in their hearts, they already thought of themselves as "country bumpkins."
Ali chuckled. "Pen pals. She's my pen pal!"
"Pen pal? What's that?" A blank look spread across Banus's long face.
"I told you to learn more characters, but you wouldn't listen. After the postal department was established, some newspapers started pen-pal programs, letting people in two different cities become friends by writing letters to each other. Since communication happens purely through written text, they're called pen pals."
Ali eagerly explained to Banus, "Think about it — maybe we'll never leave this small town in our entire lives, yet we could have sincere friends in Lentat, in Pervis, in other great cities. Strangers yet familiar. Never having met, yet having bared their hearts through words. What a wonderful thing that would be…"
He wore a look of rapt enjoyment, clearly enamored of the whole pen-pal concept.
"That sounds amazing!" Banus's mouth hung open, looking as though he'd been caught up in the enthusiasm. Only now did he truly appreciate the importance of literacy. The biggest difference between himself and Ali was that Ali's father had once served as an assistant to a clerk and had therefore learned to read, then taught it to him — whereas Banus could only rely on Ali's occasional explanations to pick up a few words. He couldn't read a newspaper at all!
"This kind of communication has no entanglement of interests, no romantic complications. You don't judge by the other person's face, you don't care about their status — it's the most sincere way for people to connect." Ali looked for all the world like a host of a "Voice of Mystery" psychology program. "So what I told you earlier, I learned from that pen pal. She's a noble from Lentat with her own magic radio — she can freely listen to other channels and get news from other nobles. She certainly wouldn't lie about something like this."