Beechka had had a fairly fulfilling life. He grew up in a good family, and while the going was tough sometimes, things had never really unravelled for him. He studied in a good school, went to a great college, and made many friends and then lost some of them. He was, at the end of the day, the usual guy, who lived his usual life with all the hits and misses. All through his shortlived life, however, he felt this distinct sense of a mission he must complete. Much the same, he was rather disenchanted with something in life. Something that never crystallized enough to be completely visible to him, but was grainy enough to hurt his insides when his mind unknowingly strayed upon it.
He thought about the island of Tiid in the Sea of Khas. The island and its inhabitants were treated with an ambivalent eye by people who lived outside it. They called themselves The People of the Mainland. While they respected its inhabitants and turned to them when in doubt, their behaviour was hardly cordial when need found itself absent from proceedings. The people of Tiid, amused at first, then bewildered, and then hurt found solace in each other. The fact that it was difficult to access the island made it much easier for them to shun the outside world and behave in a manner (in the absence of external contact), peculiar to them. They developed their own codes of social conduct, governing bodies, even their own ideas of what they were. The few residents who had seen the Mainland before the separation began, ensured that everything in Tiid was in antagonism to the Mainland. To conform with the outside world was a heinous crime. To not conform with the inside world was even worse.
Every year, Tiid would conduct a scouting operation, where it would call residents of the Mainland, who found themselves at a loss with their world to migrate to Tiid. Of course, Tiid being an island, there wasn't enough space to accomodate everyone. Only those beyond a threshold level of disenchantment with their surroundings (barring those with political connections) were taken in; to live and to conform. Society within Tiid wasn't utopic, as it's founders had (day)dreamed it would be. The heirarchy was almost unbreakable. The cycle of exploitation, endless. All new entrants were subjected to heavy handed behaviour by their superiors, and they grew up to do the same to their inferiors. There were defections, thousands of them. Inhabitants who were disillusioned with isolation on the island, found their way back to the Mainland every year. The authorities in Tiid, tried to clamp down on this defection, but the stronger they clamped down, the harder it got. There were loyalists, of course, who would close their eyes to promises of a better life on the Mainland (on the compromise of conformation of course) and stay with their bretheren on the island.