155. Mandatory Social Service

Innovation Convention Hall, Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

The grand hall hummed with quiet anticipation, its vaulted ceilings echoing with the murmur of gathered citizens. Sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows depicting scenes of industry and progress, casting colorful patterns across the polished marble floors. The third speech hall, with its semicircular seating arrangement, offered perfect acoustics for presenters.

A hush fell over the crowd as three notable figures entered the VIP balcony: Marie, her chestnut braids bouncing with each energetic step; Lady Aurora, her crimson gown a striking contrast against the hall's neutral tones; and young Ken, whose wide eyes drank in every detail of the impressive chamber.

"So this is where Kim City's future takes shape?" Aurora asked, running a gloved hand along the carved mahogany railing. The wood still smelled faintly of fresh lacquer.

Marie beamed, leaning forward in her plush velvet seat. "Yes! I come here every chance I get after patrols. You wouldn't believe some of the ideas people have!"

Ken practically vibrated with excitement, gripping the railing with both hands. "Lady Marie! So ordinary citizens can really suggest changes that affect the whole city?" His voice carried just a bit too loud in the hall, earning a few amused glances from nearby attendees.

"Exactly!" Marie nodded enthusiastically. "They're building three more halls just like this to serve other districts. This was the first one Master had constructed." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "She says innovation flourishes when everyone has a voice."

Aurora watched the interplay with quiet amusement, though her muscles ached from keeping up with these two bundles of energy all morning. Between Marie's boundless enthusiasm and Ken's rediscovered spark after days of anxious travel, she felt like she'd been herding particularly excitable kittens.

As the clock tower chimed two, a hush fell over the assembly. A woman stepped onto the stage, dressed in the standard presenter's attire, an ensemble of deep blue cotton with a square neckline and elbow-length sleeves, the skirt falling just below the knees to allow ease of movement. A thin belt of braided rope cinched the waist, and her sturdy leather sandals spoke of someone accustomed to hard work. The outfit was modest by Herptian standards, but the short hem and lack of underskirts would still raise eyebrows in more conservative Solious regions of the empire.

Marie's face lit with recognition. "That's Miss Camila! "

Camila crushed a jasmine blossom between her palms, its magical essence amplifying her voice as she addressed the crowd:

"Honored council members, citizens of Kim," she began, her voice steady despite the nervous tremor in her hands. "I am Camila Drew, a former slave, now a free woman thanks to Her Highness's intervention."

Marie waved enthusiastically from the balcony, earning a small, grateful smile from the presenter. Aurora leaned closer to Marie. "You know her well?"

Marie nodded, her eyes never leaving the stage. "Me and my father used to buy firewood from Her family before I came to Kim Dukedom. After the pirate attack, Master personally ensured all the survivors had homes and work in the city."

Aurora gave a thoughtful nod, watching Camila with newfound respect. On the stage below, Camila’s voice rang out with clarity, her tone calm but assured as she addressed the gathered council members and citizens.

“I currently work in the city’s administrative sector,” Camila began. “For the past few months, I’ve been assigned as one of the transport overseers in the fishing division, specifically managing logistics between the Northern Coastline and the city.”

She paused, letting her words settle before continuing. “The fishing sector is one of Kim Dukedom’s primary sources of food, especially in the early days following Her Highness’s arrival when agricultural was impossible.”

“That’s true,” came a firm voice from the upper tier of the audience. One of the jurors, evidently a senior member of the city patrol by the crisp navy-blue trim on his uniform, leaned forward slightly. “We relied heavily on magical beast fish and vegetables bought by her highness during the reconstruction period.”

“Precisely,” Camila acknowledged with a respectful nod. “And while the sector has stabilized, we are beginning to face new problems, ones less immediate but more insidious.”

She glanced around the chamber, her hands clasped in front of her dress.

“Due to the mandatory education reforms implemented by the dukedom,” she explained, “a significant portion of the population is now attending schools under the church’s guidance, learning valuable skills. We have students joining medical research, blacksmithing workshops, construction teams, plumbing and steam engineering units, textile factories, and, of course, positions like mine in administration.”

A few members of the audience nodded in agreement, proud of the progress their city had made in such a short span. Camila, however, did not pause long enough for the applause.

“But,” she said with a heavier tone, “as more citizens graduate and gain formal qualifications, we’ve seen a growing shortage of manual laborers, those who are willing and able to work the physically demanding or lower-paying jobs.”

Her words hung in the air. The chamber quieted.

“I’m sure many of you have already experienced this firsthand,” she continued. “Construction projects are delayed due to lack of workers, deliveries take longer to process.. And I worry that if this pattern continues unchecked, we will create a divide, where those who are educated begin to look down on essential labor as beneath them.”

There was a beat of silence. Then an older member sitting in the jury, a man with silver hair and a distinguished brown cloak stitched with the mark of the commerce division spoke thoughtfully.

“That’s an excellent observation,” he said, stroking his chin. “We may not be suffering the full effects of this shift yet, but if the trajectory remains as it is, there will come a time when our city is full of thinkers and planners, yet no one left to do the building.”

“Exactly,” Camila said gently, encouraged by the agreement.

The city patrol officer leaned forward again. “So what’s your solution then? I assume you’re not about to suggest we bring in outside workers or immigrants from the mainland. That idea would be thrown out immediately by her highness.”

There were murmurs of agreement. Heads nodded throughout the auditorium. It was well known, especially through the pages of the city’s widely circulated newspaper, that Her Highness Ravenna was firmly opposed to opening Kim City to outsiders. As a candidate for Ancorna’s Imperial throne, she had publicly rejected any proposition that might lead to foreign influence or dependency on the dukedom.

Camila gave a quick shake of her head. “Of course not, honored councilor,” she said calmly. “I would never propose a policy that contradicts Her Highness’s vision for the city. I’ve read the newspaper. I understand the position.”

She drew a breath, steady and measured, before delivering her proposal.

“What I suggest is the implementation of a Mandatory Social Service Program for all students who graduate from the Church’s educational institutions.”

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