Chapter Text
The history and colonization of the islands currently known as Kerch has been a matter of intense, if sporadic, debate for as long as Kerch has had enough people to make up histories and colonies. Visitors from neighboring countries frequently puzzle over its positioning in the social and geographical globe, rightly proclaiming that it is far closer to the Wandering Isles or Ravka in culture than it is to Novyi Zem or Shu Han, which flank its shores. The people, as well, tend fairer than would be expected at their southerly latitude. Thus, a visitor may conjecture that it is a place recently colonized, its land seized from a more congruous indigenous population.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Unlike with the Hedjut people of Fjerda, or the North Shu of Ravka, no invading armies or cutthroat “diplomats” carved land from the original Kerch population, which in itself is a misnomer, and one that defies a substitute.* Instead, the peculiar position of the isles have made it an area of steady, if unintentional, immigration.
A brief summary of Kerch weather and currents must be given for context. A warm current from southern Shu Han sweeps the southern and western shores of Kerch, mingling with a cool current from the Bone Road in the north. This cool current is split by the northern tip of Kerch, forming a tributary current on the eastern shore. It is this movement of water that gives Ketterdam its relatively peaceful climate, compared to the hurricanes that occur on the south and western shores. It is these shores were archaeologists may find the bones of those not lucky enough to become the first Kerch.
Currently it is a matter of conjecture as to which population first colonized Kerch, though the long history of Shu seafaring makes it the most likely candidate. Some of the ancient shipwrecks discovered in the harbors of southerly cities have also been found to have Shu designs, though this does not negate the possibility of earlier Zemeni colonization, as the cooler water of the east more readily preserves wrecks. In any case, the initial seed population was likely soon joined by other doomed voyages. There is some evidence that the eastern and western shores had distinct cultures and only met later, as the populations naturally expanded, but this has not been confirmed.
The Polaris of Kerch culture, Ghezen, appears to have emerged early in the island’s history. Fertility idols, relatively uncommon in Shu Han or Novyi Zem at the associated time periods, multiplied (no pun intended) in the temperate climate of Kerch. Some symbols, such as the stylized hand, can be seen before writing could preserve the name of Ghezen. New waves of shipwrecked populations correspond with a boom of “foreign” imagery, but these almost always dissolved or were assimilated over time. A number of theories exist as to why this occurred. According to one school of thought, the polytheistic religions of surrounding cultures, relying on localized worship and neatly segregated heavenly jurisdiction, were not robust enough for the variability of the Kerch islands. A single god who could be prayed to for fair weather, good harvest, and successful trade was simply more useful than a set of regional gods. Another suggestion is that the conversions had economic motivations. People were more likely to trade with those of the same religion, and so an unfortunate immigrant may choose to convert in order to garner more business. Echoes of these shallow conversions can be seen in regional variations in worship.
At no point does it seem that early Kerch was “discovered” by other literate populations, despite how unintentional their contributions to its shores may have been. The oldest Shu records of Kerch (dating back to the third century) suggest familiarity with both its location and its people. Trade of wool, silk, wheat, oats, and salt remain steady through all records. It is interesting to note that the earliest Zemeni records of Kerch (second century) are likewise familiar, but also claim mutual intelligibility of languages. It goes without saying that this is no longer the case.
It is not until Llewellyn Hanvey, a ninth century Kaelish diplomat, that anyone expresses surprise of the peculiar islands between Novyi Zem and Shu Han. As such, his descriptions of Kerch are significantly more detailed than the dry trade records of previous visitors. One entry in his journal reads as follows (translated by Per Rooper of Ketterdam University):
The Kerch people are an unusual race of people, fairer than the Zemeni, though with a similar style of dress. They have but one saint, who they pray to for all causes. This may be for lack of written records, for despite a love of trade, they record all transactions in a series of crude notches next to a symbol that suggests the item. No distinction seems to be drawn between men and women, and women may be found heading courts as often as men are left at home, spinning wool and tending children.
It must be noted that Hanvey was considered prudish even for his era, so his suggestions as to the primitiveness of Kerch culture should not be considered ironclad proof. Several examples of this “notch” language have been recovered from peat bogs in central Kerch. These records were almost always kept on wood, so no doubt many more simply rotted out of the historical narrative. Those that have been recovered go directly against Hanvey’s “crude” assessment, however. Early Kerch records were indeed kept in a mix of pictographic and symbolic carvings, but these carvings were exceedingly complex. Meaning appears to be conveyed from a stroke’s length, as well as its distance and angle from the pictogram. Unfortunately, too few records have survived into the modern day for a proper translation of this enigmatic language.
Another part of Hanvey’s description bears highlighting. Even at this early date, the Kerch are visibly different than the Shu or Zemeni. This suggests immigration (or, more accurately, wrecking) from northerly climates had already begun. A simple explanation can be found in the march of time. As sailing technology improved, Zemeni and Shu ships were less likely to be marooned on Kerch, and any lost crews could be picked up by the next trade expedition from their country. In contrast, northerly vessels would be moving further out, increasing the likelihood of encounters with the Kerch islands. Without consistent trade relations, sailors who arrived on Kerch would be hard-pressed to leave.
This shift in ancestry was only accelerated by the Wandering Ages of Fjerda and the Wandering Isles. Population booms from warm weather soon resolved into overpopulation in these areas, forcing younger, landless populations to move further out in search of land. Kerch, with its temperate climate and interest in any gain of prosperity, welcomed these groups with open arms—provided, of course, that they not make fools of themselves by clinging to their Old Country ways. While many subtle cultural shifts occurred because of these immigrant groups, by and large their greatest contribution was hereditary.
In fact, the immigrant group that left the greatest impact on Kerch culture was actually Ravkan, despite being a minority in population. Though churches of Ghezen can be found dating back to the fifth century, the first written records date to only the 1200s. A clergyman, evidently finding the original Kerch language suboptimal for religious texts, began writing his sermons phonetically using Ravkan letters.** This quickly spread throughout temples, then to courts, then to businesses. By the 1400s, the original Kerch script appears to have died entirely, taking any name for it with it.
The standardization of writing in many ways served as a standardization of Kerch culture. While not exact, the cultural shifts of yesteryear became much more easily tracked, and tended to move in lock-step across the islands. Many more volumes have been written on this era, and I leave it to the modern historians to write Kerch history, and perhaps Kerch future.
*If asked, most Kerch will respond that the islands were once the home of the Kerch Kerch, emphasizing the first word as a form of identifier. In fact, people still may be considered more Kerch Kerch than others, though the accuracy of these judgements has been found to be lacking. City records can be used to trace the lineage of individuals of various declared Kerch-ness, and it has been found that the percent of Kerch ancestors is only weakly correlated with how an individual may be judged. Frequently those considered the most Kerch were of more recent Zemeni or Shu ancestry.
**It should be noted that by this point Kerch did not resemble Zemeni in any way, shape, or form, outside of the general sharing of vowel sounds and the occasional loan word. What occurred in the intervening centuries between early Zemeni trade and Kerch adoption of Ravkan writing has been lost to time.