#setting aesthetic

Stretching back into prehistory, there’s evidence of people living in what would become Amnexia. The first recorded inhabitants likely pertained to the Vascones (early Basque people) or the Aquitani. They spoke an ancient predecessor of Euskera (the real language of modern-day Basque country) and its sister tongue Amnesk (the language of Amnexia, and my little conlang project.)

The Romans were the first to write about the Amnisti, a tribe of livestock herders settled in a remote valley in the Pirineus mountains. By the end of the Middle Ages they had become their own independent country, ruled by a strange combination of noble families and prominent magic practitioners.

Magic, on Terrus, comes from the currents of energy that criss-cross the planet’s atmosphere, connecting all living things. There about a dozen places where many currents intersect, causing magic “hotspots.”

The universality of magic does not mean it is universally interpreted in the same way. In the case of Amnexia, their polytheistic belief system and magic practice/witchcraft, called sorkenza in Amnesk, dates back to ancient times. But across the globe, other peoples interpreted these energy currents differently, some as the presence of multiple gods, or just one, or no gods at all. The major monotheistic religions we know, such as Judaism, Islam and Christianity, all exist on Terrus.

Unfortunately, this means Amnexia was caught up in the Vasconian witch trials in the early 1600s, and was forced to suppress this aspect of its culture in order to survive. Amnexia did submit to Catholicism and remains, at least in name, a Catholic country, but those deep strains of magical practice and polytheistic belief, while not always explicit, remain present and relevant to its culture.

Due to its nature as a magic hotspot, Amnexia continued to draw unwanted outside attention. As I explained before, magic on Terrus is not universally understood. By the early 19th century, a scientific community of ‘perceptivists’ had emerged among upper-class circles in western Europa, dedicated to studying the nature of magic energy.

In the late 1820s, a series of disastrous events occurred. First was the collapse of the Amnexian monarchy, due to the rise of a nationalist, magic-purist faction. They weakened the Church, as well, allowing them to maintain symbolic/cultural status only. In the chaos that ensued, no one took much notice of a mysterious, hushed incident involving a Hispanian perceptivista who had wound up in Amnexia by pursuing magic currents. (Purposefully vague because of spoilers!)

It was this magic-purist faction which led Amnexia’s isolation. They cut off all ties to the outside world, and established absolute control over the country. They called themselves the Araztan, or the Pure Ones, and their agenda was clear: to make it so that, to the rest of the world, Amnexia didn’t exist.

By the late 1830s, they had succeeded. From then on, the country developed with little to no influence from the Outside, as the Council of Araztan maintained tight control over the borders. They elected a small group of officials to oversee what little trade Amnexia continued to conduct (very discretely) for its own survival, which included importing any essential items they couldn’t produce on their own, such as lamp oil and paper. For the most part, however, the people of Amnexia were forced to adapt.

Self-sufficiency, along with invention and resourcefulness, became the pillars of society. They developed complex raised bed systems and ‘greenhouses’ (constructed using animal hides scraped so finely as to become sheer and let in sunlight) which allowed for the cultivation of crops that otherwise couldn’t survive the wet and cold climate. They bred and trained the Amnexian wolfhound (pictured in the aesthetics board above) to serve as companions, hunting dogs, and message carriers. They invented ingenious systems for collecting and distributing rainwater throughout households.

But in many ways, Amnexia was stagnated. After the initial shock of the transition wore off, a long, exhausting cycle of internal conflict set in, pitting the dominant notions of isolationism and fear of the Outside (those held by the Council of Araztan) against the current of curiosity and rebellion among Amnexia’s youth. This repeated generation after generation, and fomented a rich subculture that carried into the 20th century.

But by the late 1930s, when the events of The Lost Country take place, there is no longer a single Amnexian living who has ever seen the Outside...

to be continued!

If you’ve read this far, you deserve a medal, and I sincerely hope you found it interesting. If so, please give this a like or reblog and earn my undying love! I’d also be overjoyed if people messaged me with questions or comments, especially to poke at gaps in my worldbuilding (I promise I won’t be offended!) If you’re intrigued, check out Part II here, which is all about Amnexian society and culture.