500

Miliarium

It is was a short country, scant in size and resource. However, a substancial amount of pride had taken hold of its community owing to its newest endeavor.
The low lying island lacked many of the credentials with which our soicieties have decided to judge each other. Low in production, employment and tourism and unfortunately unblessed with the mineral wealth that bolsters the standing of many states that populate our globe.

Something was needed.

The people gathered. Old and young and rich and poor alike. Anyone with an idea was given an equal hearing.  A change of name, a change of of constitution, a change of alliance or shift of axis left to right were all suggested, submitted and dismissed in due course as impractical or un-impactful.
Amongst the noise one idea rose like a beacon on the back of its merit and the congregation constantly returned to it as the only plausible possibilty.
A national project. An operation that would simultaneously create a unique attraction, boost employment and take advantage of the countries sole resource in natural abundance.

The Miliari would be a cross country network of gigantic milestones. A vast spread of monolithic totems radiating from the islands centre and cut from the very bedrock in which they would stand.
A massive undertaking for any country but the islands inhabitants, teams of skilled architects and craftsmen with labourers and apprentices soon set to work with hitherto unseen exuberance.
The grandest of the obelisks, known as Miliarium Zero, was soon raised. A towering, dominating presence intricately carved with the the story of its erection and the history of the people who built it. The innaugruation ceremony attracted thousands and was held in the shadow of the stone itself and in the very crater from which it had been hewn.
Internationally publicised, it was generally agreed that it was indeed an impressive feat. Then with tentative steps the first tourists began to arrive. Initially to view Zero then to witness the proliferation of its descendents emerging from the land.

As the builders grew in confidence the stones became increasingly audacious. Every major town now claimed one and it was soon a point of local pride to have the most original and daring design. A fierce comeption arose amongst the peoples of the island as they battled for the attention and money of the ever increasing visitors.

Before the first phase of construction was completed the leaders of the nation, swept up in its success, anounced the expansion of the project. Every town, village or hamlet could now apply for funds to have their own Miliari. A settlement could ill afford to be without one and the race to create ensued.

Soon there remained few on the island who were not employed within the monument industry. If not involved directly in construction, other ways were found to turn a profit from the pillars. Souvenir sellers pedalled trinkets and keepsakes, most popular of which were the miniature menhirs made from discarded flints from the quarry sites. Travellers took these home and showed their families and friends which only increased the influx of visitors to the island, all crammed into the rash of tower themed hotels erupting across the country.

Work was constant and many large centres could now boast several of the slab-like stelai. The pace slowed only when the winter season brought the rains which dampened spirits and international demand.
The rain also brought with it an unexpected extra. The deep folds and creases in the earth from which the staggering Miliari where excavated now filled with water creating a  picturesque series of pools and ponds as far as the eye could see. Their eerie beauty was accentuated by the stillness of the surrounding country, unbroken by tree or bird or beast. A flat, featureless and sterile land notable only for its columnal punctuations.

The leaders of this now reputable nation took count of their success in opulent offices. Not entirely deaf to the murmurs of discontent beneath them they addressed the public crowded below their windows

We're tired. The crowds protested.
We're hungry. Pleaded others.
The tourists are thinning. Pointed out another.

Please. The leaders begged.
Have we not succeded before?
Shall we not succeed again?

How? Demanded the public.

We dug our way this far and we'll keep digging until we reach the other side!
This way the leaders annouced a doubling of efforts. A elaborate plan of construction so daring as to dazzle the world. No inch of rock, no patch of dirt would be left unworked they explained.

But we're exhausted. We've had enough of these stones!
The mobs silent acquiescence ignited a furious indignation in their leaders. How dare this ungrateful rabble question the order?  How dare they blaspheme in such a way?

Where would we be without our great Miliari?  They reproached.
You thankless swine!
Return to your homes and pray to your stones for forgiveness. The Miliari give us purpose and all they require is that we honour them, build them. Shame, SHAME!!!

Humiliated by such impassioned demands on them the people lowered their eyes and searched the ground for apt retort. All they found at their feet was bare rock. Rock was the only available answer.
The following day industry was doubled.

A curiousity. An oddity. This was the new lense through which the island was now viewed. An interesting case study. A beguiling example of folly.
The oustside world no longer visited. Regarded from a distance the people of the island continued relentlessy.
They had erred. They had doubted the importance of the Miliari and now they were being punished.
The land, dug deep, now let in the sea through all its territories. The salt it brought made the soil infertile and famine spread far and wide. The endless vistas of brackish and stagnant pools became motionless fountains of disease. Typhoid and Cholera ravaged every home and swarms of mosquitoes gathered each evening, delivering deadly Maleria with each bite.
Still they carved and lifted the great monoliths out of the earth, desperate to please these newest of human deities. Every one a step closer to absolution, a symbol of the impending return of bounty.
Pestilent and malnourished the population grew too weak to continue. Dying prayers went un-answered and the bodies began to pile at the feet of the great obelisks. Eventually the advancing tide decided to no longer to recede.

Submerged, the Island and its people disappeared forever, passing into distant memory and only vaguely recalled by the thousands of peculiar pinacles projecting from the open ocean.

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