The East PacificBoard

Davide Calagari quietly watched from atop the mausoleum as the crying and cheers below him grew louder with each passing parade unit. The stern-faced soldiers moved in unison through Zangane Square as they marched past and saluted the Sovereign that stood way above the crowds gathered to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary Humanist State's founding. Calagari felt uneasy as he rubbed shoulders and exchanged pleasantries with other foreign officials who arrived to send well wishes and partake in the celebrations as well. He felt queasy, silently swearing that he could feel the energy of the crowd shaking the mausoleum beneath his feet. He knew what he signed up for, being assigned as representative of the Grand Duchy to initiate formal diplomatic talks with the Humanist State, infamous for its relentless persecution of the Alcatus, whom they deemed to be worth nothing more than the dirt beneath one's boots, perhaps even less. He felt uneasy engaging with people who so openly in their hatred for people they consider less to them.

Perhaps it was because he hailed from the Tirirates, and not just from the few cities sprinkled throughout but from the actual boondocks far from paved roads and centralized plumbing. He recalled how wonderful life was he was young. Playing with his friends in the creek and catching fireflies and all assortments of insects in the wheat fields and nearby forests. How his neighbours would greet each other on the streets, paying visits, and delivering gifts on special occasions. But deep down he always felt something odd about this rural friendliness, a facade that everyone around him carries around as they go about their day, suppressing some deep urge within them. When he grew a little bit older he finally came to understand when his twig-thin grandpapa would sit him down by the fireplace, usually after having a few too many swigs off the top of his moonshine bottle. He would recount in great detail how things were 'back in the good old days' as he polished his old rifle; how perfect it was when the Grand Duke was calling the shots; how the Alcatus, in their jealousy and envy, ruined it for them when they joined the revolution; how he would joined the fight to fight the true cause of the Malvek Empire; and how things became how they are now. He could never forget the smile his grandfather wore as he recalled how he and his platoon strung up any straggler they came across after a skirmish, especially if they were an Alcatus. It was then he knew had to get out of there.

"Sir, are you alright?" Davide's aide approaches him, now finding himself at the bottom of the steps to the mausoleum. "You spaced out and wandered off. Are you alright? Field Marshal Ferdinand's address is almost over and Sovereign Nazeri is about to begin his speech."

"No, no. It's... I'm fine. Let's get back to the viewing platform." He thought to himself, it should all be over soon. Once the speech ends his aide will whisk him away back to his residence where he can retreat into his own thoughts in peace. It's just a job, it's just a job, it's just a job...

Davide rejoined his contemporaries alongside his aide on top of the mausoleum platform just as The Sovereign entered the view of the crowds, silence befalling them as if in a trance in his presence as they turned to face him. Even atop the viewing platform Davide could felt so distant from the Sovereign. A man clothed in a scarlet robe contrasted sharply against his black gloves and golden mask that forever wore an enigmatic grin. The whole attire seemed so... alien to him, even with his previous experiences of entertaining guests and foreign delegates from all across Valsora. He felt a lump form in his throat as the Sovereign, even in fiery tones and zealous passion, looked lifeless behind his mask. His fierce gestures as he appealed and preached to the crowd stirred nothing within Davide, who could only gaze upon the Sovereign's unmoving mask, grinning back at him. That same damn smile.

"Hail Humanism! Hail Dear Sovereign Zangane! Hail one Humanity!" The Sovereign's voice echoed through the square.

"Hail Humanism! Hail Dear Sovereign Zangane! Hail one Humanity! Hail OUR Dear Sovereign!" The crowd roared back.

It disgusted him.

Davide Calagari quietly watched from atop the mausoleum as the crying and cheers below him grew louder with each passing parade unit. The stern-faced soldiers moved in unison through Zangane Square as they marched past and saluted the Sovereign that stood way above the crowds gathered to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary Humanist State's founding. Calagari felt uneasy as he rubbed shoulders and exchanged pleasantries with other foreign officials who arrived to send well wishes and partake in the celebrations as well. He felt queasy, silently swearing that he could feel the energy of the crowd shaking the mausoleum beneath his feet. He knew what he signed up for, being assigned as representative of the Grand Duchy to initiate formal diplomatic talks with the Humanist State, infamous for its relentless persecution of the Alcatus, whom they deemed to be worth nothing more than the dirt beneath one's boots, perhaps even less. He felt uneasy engaging with people who so openly in their hatred for people they consider less to them.

Perhaps it was because he hailed from the Tirirates, and not just from the few cities sprinkled throughout but from the actual boondocks far from paved roads and centralized plumbing. He recalled how wonderful life was he was young. Playing with his friends in the creek and catching fireflies and all assortments of insects in the wheat fields and nearby forests. How his neighbours would greet each other on the streets, paying visits, and delivering gifts on special occasions. But deep down he always felt something odd about this rural friendliness, a facade that everyone around him carries around as they go about their day, suppressing some deep urge within them. When he grew a little bit older he finally came to understand when his twig-thin grandpapa would sit him down by the fireplace, usually after having a few too many swigs off the top of his moonshine bottle. He would recount in great detail how things were 'back in the good old days' as he polished his old rifle; how perfect it was when the Grand Duke was calling the shots; how the Alcatus, in their jealousy and envy, ruined it for them when they joined the revolution; how he would joined the fight to fight the true cause of the Malvek Empire; and how things became how they are now. He could never forget the smile his grandfather wore as he recalled how he and his platoon strung up any straggler they came across after a skirmish, especially if they were an Alcatus. It was then he knew had to get out of there.

"Sir, are you alright?" Davide's aide approaches him, now finding himself at the bottom of the steps to the mausoleum. "You spaced out and wandered off. Are you alright? Field Marshal Ferdinand's address is almost over and Sovereign Nazeri is about to begin his speech."

"No, no. It's... I'm fine. Let's get back to the viewing platform." He thought to himself, it should all be over soon. Once the speech ends his aide will whisk him away back to his residence where he can retreat into his own thoughts in peace. It's just a job, it's just a job, it's just a job...

Davide rejoined his contemporaries alongside his aide on top of the mausoleum platform just as The Sovereign entered the view of the crowds, silence befalling them as if in a trance in his presence as they turned to face him. Even atop the viewing platform Davide could felt so distant from the Sovereign. A man clothed in a scarlet robe contrasted sharply against his black gloves and golden mask that forever wore an enigmatic grin. The whole attire seemed so... alien to him, even with his previous experiences of entertaining guests and foreign delegates from all across Valsora. He felt a lump form in his throat as the Sovereign, even in fiery tones and zealous passion, looked lifeless behind his mask. His fierce gestures as he appealed and preached to the crowd stirred nothing within Davide, who could only gaze upon the Sovereign's unmoving mask, grinning back at him. That same damn smile.

"Hail Humanism! Hail Dear Sovereign Zangane! Hail one Humanity!" The Sovereign's voice echoed through the square.

"Hail Humanism! Hail Dear Sovereign Zangane! Hail one Humanity! Hail OUR Dear Sovereign!" The crowd roared back.

It disgusted him.