Chapter 68: Modernization of Others in Progress
The sun climbed high over the sweltering tropics as the Aragonese flagship Resolución coasted gently into the harbor of Iloilo. From its polished deck, Prince Lancelot stood beside Juliette, eyes tracing the verdant landscape ahead—dense jungles, winding rivers, and hills speckled with stone terraces. The city below was alive, not with cannon smoke, but with chatter and construction.
Banners fluttered over government buildings bearing both the sun crest of Aragon and the native emblems of the local sultanate. This was no conquest. This was a promise.
As the gangway descended, Lancelot was the first to disembark, greeted by the island’s provisional governor, a wiry man in white linen named Emilio Balase. Behind him stood farmers, scholars, and soldiers—not in rows, but in shared purpose.
"Your Highness," Emilio said with a respectful bow, "Welcome to Panay."
Lancelot smiled and returned the gesture. "Governor Balase, it’s good to finally walk on the soil I’ve only seen drawn in ink."
They proceeded toward the colonial capital—a modest city named Nueva Vitoria, a grid of newly paved roads intersecting rice paddies, bamboo homes, and colonial-style buildings lined with arched colonnades and glassless windows.
The streets buzzed with motion. Caravans carried construction stone. Children darted barefoot through the plazas, trailed by mothers weaving baskets of sea grass. Local craftsmen erected scaffolding around a domed structure—the island’s first polytechnic institute.
"This city," Emilio explained as they walked, "was built with your plans. The rail is being laid from the copper mines in the interior to the harbor. And the trade school, just past the plaza, opens next month. We’ve already enrolled sixty-seven students—many are the sons of fishermen."
Lancelot’s eyes lingered on a line of students carrying books across a muddy road. "And the curriculum?"
"A blend," Emilio replied. "Agricultural engineering, mechanical basics, tropical medicine. Half our teachers are locals; the rest came on the last steam transport from Kareya."
They reached the gates of a tall white building ringed by palm trees—the newly established Colonial Administrative Hall. Its inner chamber had high ceilings, thick wooden beams, and a long table around which officials sat, studying charts, land records, and economic forecasts.
Juliette leaned close and whispered, "It reminds me of Firewell... in its infancy."