Those first few years for the migrants, immediately after they arrived on the shores of this land, provide some semblance of an explanation as to the deep-seated discrimination and racism ingrained in the Tehynshin culture since they first established their civilization. By no means did it excuse it, but it does offer insight into how they came to feel the way they felt towards the Ylveryans.
On the frontier lands, further away from the core cities that had been built atop the ruins of a far more ancient civilization, they had less of an ingrained hatred and distrust of the native Ylveryans. Perhaps it was because their schooling was less of the formal history or because they saw them as little more than a nuisance that the Tehynshin military would handle on their behalf, but whatever the reason, the people on the outer edges of Tehynshin civilization did not have the same visceral reaction to the Ylveryans that the city folk apparently still held.
Though he had grown up in the shadow of the Tehynshin military, due to his father’s work, the soldiers stationed at Fort Cowl were different from those at other military outposts. They were more concerned with the new lands past the Northern Shore, and the dangers that lurked in those lands, than they were about the mostly passive Ylveryans that needed to be encouraged to leave the fertile, open plains.
The other thing that made the Fort Cowl soldiers different was that the soldiers stationed there were the most diverse group of soldiers you could cobble together. As it was in the frontier, it was a voluntary posting with the addition of a slight amount of danger pay. This drew soldiers from every walk of life and especially from the most down-on-their-luck, no other place to go walk of life. People like that, when thrown into a societal structure that depended on trust and fidelity such as a military outpost nearest the danger, tend to bond much faster than normal or else they’d be excised quickly. In those situations, you learn very quickly to forego normal biases and shrug off two centuries of deeply-rooted discriminations, or you would quickly find yourself in a situation with no one at your side when facing off against untold dangers.
That was the lesson that Kre learned most, living in a town like Mintas. It was, essentially, a town supported by and supporting the nearby Fort Cowl, with many of the families having some sort of familial connection to the Fort. Plus, with a teacher like Professor Marxin, who was as open-minded as you could be and with more curiosity than animosity in his body, it was easy to see why Kre was, though still wary given the circumstances of their meeting, more accepting of his travelling companion than the Rangers had been.
“Why is the word ‘elf’ so distasteful?” he asked, truly curious and hoping that it didn’t come across as a barb.
“It is not the word,” Kitalia explained calmly, having clearly read the tone in Kre’s question correctly. “The word is just a sound. The sound, however, conveys a meaning. When used to convey a derogatory meaning like how the Rangers used it, the word represents all the hate and fear that the speaker puts into it. That is what is so distasteful.”
Kre nodded. It made perfect sense and that only made him feel worse. “I’m truly sorry then,” he said to her. “I never should have used ‘elf’ in such a negative way.”
Kitalia cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. Then she smirked, “Wait, you think I was upset because you called me an elf?”