“Though new to Asulon, I had heard much of it in my

travels. In Asulon a man could make his own destiny, no matter

what his birth; in Asulon all men, rich and poor, high and low,

here; the same Asulon your father remembered from his youth.

But in this generation he could see a change coming, a change

led by men of wealth and power, men whose gold came from

Asulon, yet who hated Asulon. Men who thought none wiser

than themselves, and believed they deserved to rule all, men

who spoke of loving ‘the people’, but who did not trust those

same people to govern themselves.

    “Your father set himself against these men and their

plans for Asulon. Your father strives to protect Asulon, but not

just the country, the idea that a man, no matter his birth, lives

free to choose his own path, to rise or fall, prosper or fail, build

or travel or buy or sell, all on his own, and no other man–be he

captain of wealth or king of the land–may tell him otherwise.

This, then, is your father’s Asulon, a land where all men stand

equal in the eyes of the law.”

Animated now, Moor rose from his chair and walked

over to the sand table, picked up a wooden stylus and began to

draw in the sand.

    “Your father spoke to me about the genius of Asulon.

How the founding laws set a balance between freedom and

safety.”

    Moor had drawn the four points of the compass in the

sand, each marked with its respective direction.

    “Your father called this theory ‘Asulon’s Compass.’ On

this compass the four cardinal points, West, East, North, and

South, represent four types of government,” said Moor, pointing

to each.

    “To the extreme West lies the land of Anarchy. Here

each man rules himself and does what is right in his own eyes.

Nothing in this land protects the weak from the strong. In this

land of pure democracy, the majority rules,” Moor’s eyes

glinted in what served him as a smile. “But, of course, in a pure

democracy, you often have five wolves and one sheep taking a

vote on what to have for dinner.”