《The Grimage Chronicles》
Chapter 1 (Alexander): Dreams of No One
THE dream starts as always.
The same room I know I¡¯ve seen before but can¡¯t quite place. The soothing voice I know I¡¯ve heard but can¡¯t remember where.
¡°Remember who you are. Prinz Solman.¡± It whispers. The voice has never said anything else.
¡°Who are you?! What do you mean remember?! My name is Alexander!¡± I shout at it, but it only repeats what it says, albeit more firmly.
And then, before long, the room, the voice, and everything around me is consumed in flames, and all I hear is maniacal laughing.
I woke up in a cold sweat. The dreams were intensifying, and I knew it.
My first dream occurred six months ago, it was shorter and less vivid. So I¡¯d brushed it off, but as time went on, they became more vivid, longer, and more frequent. Sometimes, I could even feel the flames as they consumed the dream, and my body would feel hot, as if I¡¯d just come out of a small fire.
So far, I had told no one, and I couldn¡¯t bring myself to tell anyone, so I simply kept the dreams to myself.
I slid into my day-clothes before turning around, where my younger sister still lay soundly asleep. Without warning, she snorts and opens her eyes, causing me to startle.
¡°That¡¯s creepy. You know that?¡± I said to her, ¡°Really creepy.¡±
¡°What is? The fact you were watching me sleep or the fact I woke up when you started doing it.¡±
I sigh, ¡°Touche. Now get up, or Mr. Wilson will have our hides again, and I don¡¯t like the idea of being fired.¡±
Navina groaned and rolled out of bed, and turned to me, ¡°What are you waiting around for? Pervert.¡± She blew a raspberry as I left her room.
I entered the kitchen/dining area, ¡°Hullo mom.¡± I looked around, ¡°Where¡¯s Dad?¡±
¡°He went on ahead, and-¡± She pulled out two brown bags, ¡°-he left his lunch, so you need to take it to him at the factory.¡±
¡°Right.¡± I nod, ¡°I¡¯ll take my breakfast to go.¡± I scooped up another bag,
¡°Right, well. Be careful.¡± She kissed me on the forehead.
¡°I will.¡± I smile, and headed out the door.
As I entered the factory, I found the first person I needed to see and the last person I wanted to see. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten lucky. You¡¯re on time.¡± My britannian supervisor pulled out his pocket watch.
¡°I¡¯m always on time!¡± I chirp with faked enthusiasm. I was sticking it to him, and he noticed.
¡°What are you carrying?¡± He snarled,
¡°My father¡¯s lunch, he forgot it today.¡± I raised the brown bag,
The supervisor fell into a judging silence, then: ¡°Give it to him quickly. Then get the hell over here, the crane is jammed again.¡±
I sighed and then headed over to my father, ¡°Dad.¡± I tapped his shoulder as he spoke to his foreman,Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
¡°One sec Alex.¡± He turned back to the man, As I moved away, snippets of conversation caught my ear,
¡°Are you sure this will work? This is ambitious, sending a lone agent with so little support.¡±
¡°Our current spy says that the Class of 39 is coming here of all places. This means we¡¯ve caught their attention,¡±
¡°That isn¡¯t always a good thing. The girl is twelve-¡±
¡°She¡¯s been trained since she was nine, she¡¯ll do fine.¡±
¡°Still-¡± The foreman shushed my father as they turned around but I¡¯d already begun walking off. ¡®What girl? Trained for what?¡¯
It was another question on a growing list.
¡°You! Boy!¡± My supervisor came to me, ¡°I told you to work on the crane!¡±
¡°But-¡±
¡°Damn witch!¡± In a flash the supervisor threw his fist towards my face, catching me in the jaw. Lights spun in my eyes as I sprawled on the floor.
¡°Why.¡± My supervisor kicked me in my ribs, ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± Another kick. ¡°You.¡± He kicked me for the final time, ¡°Listen!¡±
By now a crowd had been drawn to us, no one dared to move lest they catch the attention of one of the thugs on the periphery of the factory.
¡°Sir. That¡¯s enough.¡± My father laid a hand on my supervisor¡¯s shoulder, only to be slapped in return.
¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡± He hissed, ¡°Fix the crane.¡± He spat at me,
¡°Yes...sir.¡± I groaned weakly as I got up, my ribs creaked with pain.
¡°Today!¡± My supervisor yelled as he stormed off to harass another worker.
My father and the foreman he was talking with helped me up.
¡°I better fix the crane.¡± I chuckled, and as I left I overheard my dad say ¡°Damn Britannians...kids shouldn¡¯t have to go through this¡¡±
I sighed, and then approached the crane, I climbed up the service ¡°Oh! Alex! You¡¯re here?¡± A kid waved down, it was my friend Cruz. An eleven year old who had a knack for making machines work.
¡°Already met my beating quota.¡± I try to laugh, only to be met with sharp pain in my ribs.
¡°Yeah, so did I.¡± He pointed to a swelling black eye, clearly recent. ¡°Help me out here,¡±
¡°I don¡¯t have a choice.¡± I slid under it next to him, ¡°So what¡¯s up?¡±
¡°The joints are beginning to rust together, again. For a tank factory this certainly isn¡¯t very well maintained,¡±
¡°¡®That¡¯s why they hired us.¡¯¡± I said in a mockery of the supervisors voice,
¡°Anyway, I need a grease can, think you can get it?¡± He asked,
¡°Sure.¡± I turned and slid down the service ladder towards the storage room.
¡°An additional 20 tanks per month? This is too much, the workers are getting less than four hours of sleep, many are dropping unconscious on the job!¡± It was the supervisor, talking to another Britannian in military uniform.
¡°We need them for the push against Neu-Klaxovia.¡±
¡°It¡¯s always a push, and that¡¯s all it¡¯s ever been.¡±
¡°You heard me. I want 94 tanks per month.¡± The officer was adamant. ¡°Or we¡¯ll take our funding elsewhere.¡±
The supervisor sat down, defeated. ¡°94 tanks it is.¡±
I quickly scampered away as the officer came back out, ¡®We can¡¯t do an additional twenty tanks. We¡¯re barely sleeping as is!¡¯ I approached the storage room again, and knocked.
¡°E-Excuse me.¡± My voice shook, ¡°Can I get the grease can?¡±
The stressed supervisor looked like he was about to hit me, then he sighed, and said: ¡°Top right shelf. Make it quick.¡±
I grabbed the can and left.
I climbed back up the ladder, the first thing I said to Cruz was the officer¡¯s orders.
Strangely, he seemed unsurprised. ¡°It¡¯s always been like this, my parents said so.¡±
¡°Like what?¡±
¡°Every year or two, they work us to the bone, producing more tanks. Then they all get destroyed in the Blutwald.¡±
Blutwald, or Blood Forest was the term for the vast system of forests and mountains that the Neu-Klaxovia resistance group was notorious for using as a main base. It''s notorious reputation comes from the fact that over the past one-hundred years nearly one hundred thousand Britannian soldiers had died there fighting the Neu-Klaxovians.
¡°I want to leave here.¡± I said resolutely,
¡°Careful,¡± Cruz joked, ¡°The supervisor might beat you for saying that.¡±
¡°I¡¯m serious Cruz. I want to leave here,¡±
My friend looked at me seriously, then laughed.
¡°Good luck. You aren¡¯t the first one who¡¯s said that, and you won¡¯t be the last.¡±
Chapter 2 (Angelica): An Opened Door
The Royal Palace, The Royal Britannian Isles
Please try to be still Your Highness.¡± My personal maid Elicia begs me. She was a thin girl, with twin brown braids, symmetrical systems of freckles, big glasses and a smile that somehow managed to look cute and crazed at the same time.
¡°You know how I hate these occasions. Besides, is Lord William¡¯s son even interested in women?¡± I ask with a deadpan tone, Elicia barely contains her laughter.
¡°Don¡¯t be so cruel! I¡¯m sure he is very interested in women besides his mother.¡± Elicia sneezed the last part out.
I snickered, ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll hold still.¡± I settle into the seat as Elicia unravels the combs and tangles in my hair. I look in the mirror, and I can hardly believe the perfect girl staring back was me. Hair that shone almost gold, a perfectly unscared face, and silky delicate skin.
The only thing that marked her as me was her eyes. Unlike the others in my family, I inherited my mothers golden eyes, rather than my father¡¯s deep sea blue ones.
¡°You¡¯ve been to the library more than usual.¡± Elicia said at last, ¡°Are you bothered about something?¡±
I looked up and sighed, ¡°My father still won¡¯t let me go to Faywood.¡±
¡°Faywood? Why not?¡± Faywood was the most prestigious War Academy in the world. Simply being on campus was an honor, and - unlike most of the country - everyone there was well paid, even the janitors. It was often joked that a day¡¯s work at Faywood was worth a year¡¯s worth of factory work in the colonies.
But what made it famous was it¡¯s unique way of educating students on tactics and war. Every year, they headed to where Britannia was making it¡¯s latest conquest or fighting it¡¯s latest war. It helped keep the students open minded and in-touch with reality.
Supposedly.
¡°It¡¯s ¡®not appropriate for my station¡¯,¡± I said bitterly, ¡°Damn sexist, wish I could just shove my boot up his skinny arse-¡±
¡°Your highness!¡± My maid repremaided me.
I cleared my throat, ¡°Sorry, I lost myself for a second there.¡± I inhaled, forcing my Highland accent down. ¡°Anyway, what dresses do you have?¡±
The Emperor of Britannia was hardly what you¡¯d expect from the leader of a country. He wasn¡¯t vivacious or fierce, but he wasn¡¯t overweight either. In fact, most find him to be more of a beanpole. A librarian rather than a king.
Which was also what he wanted for himself, but generations of ¡®keeping the bloodline pure¡¯ (or - according to more brutally honest sources - glorified inbreeding) had resulted in sickly siblings that had perished before their twelfth birthday, leaving the diminutive Camden Britannia - now Gerald XI - as the sole heir to the throne.
He adjusted his glasses as he looked down on a sheet of paper. ¡°What...exactly am I looking at?¡±
¡°Demands. Sir, from the Britannian League of Social Reform.¡± His public relations minister stated. The minister looked exhausted and aged, which was no surprise considering he had to deal with every grievance the public had before he could actually pass it to the Parliament or Emperor
¡°I thought this was dealt with? We gave them suffrage didn¡¯t they?¡±
¡°They believe our guidelines to be unfair,¡± A man with a powdered wig and thinning grey beard stood up, ¡° and they¡¯re gaining power within parliament. Many of the Highlander lords have stated their support for the movement. They may plan to vote me out in a vote of no confidence,¡±
¡°Your fears are unfounded, Prime Minister.¡± Gerald said dismissively, the Prime Minister was always fearing that he¡¯d be ousted one day. Despite the fact his position was safeguarded by centuries of institutionalization. A no-confidence vote hadn¡¯t been held in almost one hundred years.
¡°Excuse me sir.¡± A man with a short curling moustache stood, ¡°I have an idea,¡±
¡°Go ahead?¡± Gerald said, ¡®As long as it doesn¡¯t involve shooting anyone, Marshal Halden.¡¯ He thought. Field Marshal Halden Roderiez - a half britannian, half hispaniolan - was the current Chief of General Staff of the Britannian Army, effectively making him second to the emperor when it came to the emperor. He was also notoriously fiery. And while he was excellent on the battlefield, his violent solutions to everything weren¡¯t so great off the battlefield.
¡°Allow female students into Faywood.¡± Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
At first, a dead silence, this was so radical that it could uproot centuries of tradition. Allowing women into Faywood would signal change. And if there was anything that the nobility hated more, it was change.
The Prime Minister erupted, ¡°Nonsense! Absolute bollocks! That threatens the very institution-¡±
¡°It will give them a victory they oh-so-want,¡± Roderiez shrugged
¡°We¡¯ll be viewed as giving in to them!¡± The finance minister yelled. Finance Minister Cal was the definition of spoiled nobility. A fat, priggish man (although from an outsider¡¯s perspective, that was the definition of almost every noble in the room) he¡¯d likely embezzled more funds during his tenure than Western Pirates and Gangsters could ever hope to.
Not like Gerald could prove it.
¡°The Chief of Staff has a point.¡± The PR minister stated, ¡°We concede now to prevent a bigger problem in the future.¡±
¡°And I¡¯m not suggesting we throw the doors open right away.¡± The Chief of Staff explained, ¡°Only allow a few, as a trial run. If they fail, then we¡¯ve proved ourselves right.¡±
¡°And if they manage to make it through the year? We¡¯ll be cornered, we¡¯ll have no choice but to allow more female students.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve decided.¡± Gerald stood. ¡°We¡¯ll allow female students, I see it as a win either way.¡±
¡°Your highness?¡± The Prime Minister said confusedly, ¡°You- You¡¯re not actually suggesting that we allow this.¡±
¡°I am.¡± Gerald said simply, ¡°If we don¡¯t concede now, we¡¯ll face more drastic consequences in the future. Not to mention we have the same families going there every year, there¡¯s a reason we lost the Maple War with the Federation. We¡¯re bloating our leaders with the same sense of bloated entitlement that leads to defeat after defeat.¡±
The Prime Minister huffed, he had no response other than: ¡°Very well. I shall accept this concession.¡±
Unknown to the others, there was another, more personal reason Gerald had decided to accept this idea.
In the end, I had settled on a beautifully adorned white dress, but not too fancy or long either. In fact, it was a rich version of the average bodycon dress.
¡°About as minimalist as allowed. Any more and you¡¯d look well¡¡±
¡°Basic and poor?¡±
¡°Yes.¡± Elicia agreed for lack of a better phrase.
¡°Well...I better get going then.¡± I stood, my dress glinting in the light. ¡°I want to shut this one down quickly.¡±
I walked into the dining room, and took stock of my situation. Sitting at the head was Lord William Scotsford, a prominent Lord from the southern Wallian region of Britannia. To the right of him was Lady Katerina Scotsford, a Slaviatic noblewoman by birth who¡¯d married into the family, and then on the left was their son, Dante Rosimov Scotsford, who - to quote Angelica¡¯s thoughts - looked inbred as hell. His chin was abnormally sharp and his hair was an unsalvageable mess.
Nonetheless, not one of these thoughts made it into the open as I sat down politely, dignified, like a princess.
¡°Will his Imperial Majesty not be joining us?¡± Katerina asked, her Slaviat accent making me feel like this woman actually had some depth to her. Which was all to rare in the shifting court of nobles, they could conive and plan, but at the end of the day, when you unravelled all the layers of irony and deception, they were all the same.
¡°He will be along shortly.¡± I nodded,
¡°My son will be a very fine choice.¡± There was no need to say what for, ¡°He¡¯s attending Faywood this upcoming year in fact.¡±
¡®So is half of the English aristocracy, your son isn¡¯t unique.¡¯ I thought.
Soon enough, a squadron of guards entered the room and lined up along the walls, heralding my fathers arrival. Sure enough, he arrived in a regal tuxedo and sat down.
¡°Lord Scotsford. Lady Scotsford.¡± My father addressed them with a nod,
¡°Ah, Your Majesty, we were just talking about how Dante is attending Faywood.¡±
¡°Yes. I¡¯d actually like to talk about that. There has just been a major change in policy to allow women to attend the school.¡±
The entire room immediately fell silent. Lady Scotsford smiled to herself, Lord William dropped his spoon, Dante looked equally surprised as his father, I burst into a massive smile.
¡°-and I plan for my daughter to be among the first female attendees.¡±
My smile got even wider, if I smiled any more I''m sure my face would''ve torn and I would''ve looked like a victim of Kenneth the Ripper.
¡°B-but what about the successor to the throne? She¡¯s the first born, there needs to be an Emperor!¡±
¡°Or Empress.¡± Gerald said, ¡°Anyway, we can worry about that once she returns from her tenure.¡±
Lord William blustered with various profanities until storming out. Dante followed his father out like a dog trailing it¡¯s owner. Katerina curtsied at the princess, and said to me, ¡°I wish you a wonderful school year.¡± and followed her husband out.
I turned to him, ¡°Why the sudden change of heart?¡±
¡°Well, the League for Reform finally made such a fuss we had no choice but to give in to them.¡± My father sighed,
¡°So...it¡¯s just a political move?¡± My face fell, ''I thought I finally got through to him.''
¡°That, and I want you to finally shut up about it.¡± My father said lightheartedly,
I smiled, ¡°See. I knew I¡¯d win out in the end.¡± I was cheering internally, I couldn''t wait to leave this cage of a palace.
He groaned, ¡°You leave next week.¡±
Chapter 3 (Kelia): A New War
The Blutwald, Apsaras Fortress
I, Ltn. Kelia Jeenaba had no shortage of tasks. Despite her young age, I was easily one of the more experienced members of Neu-Klaxovia, the resistance group formed from the remnants of the Klaxovian Imperial Army.
Which also meant more work. I was often called to the ground to train the younger cadets of between 10 - 12. And was often called in on strategy meetings with some of the mid-rank brass like Oberstleutanant Smith.
In fact, here he was now. Oberstleutanant Marcenas Smith, brother of Oberst Astell Smith. The two came from a nearby industrial city known as Ingolstat, which was known for its tank manufacturing plant. I knew Astell was undercover as a worker there, and had helped them get parts they so desperately required for their own small armored forces that couldn¡¯t be manufactured in the small factories they had built into the various fortresses they had within the Blutwald.
¡°Leutanant Jeenaba.¡± The Oberstleutanant motioned for her to follow.
¡°Sir, can this wait? I¡¯m taking the Cadets for a war-game today-¡±
¡°It¡¯s about your next assignment.¡± He said gravely, ¡°The war game can wait.¡±
I looked down, I knew this would come. For weeks the brass had been planning their big infiltration mission, rumors had flown around that I would be part of it, which made some sense. But I didn¡¯t expect this to happen so...well - soon.
¡°Yes sir.¡± I followed behind the Oberstleutanant and into the system of small mining rails slash de-facto railway system. Thanks to our engineers, we¡¯d pioneered an underground railway system throughout the entire blutwald. In an estimated three years time dangerous ¡®Grifter Runs¡¯ as they were often called, would be a thing of the past. They were known as such due to the fact they were often done by Britannia¡¯s Colonial black market. Various gangs originating in the Isles made fortunes off of smuggling, illicit mining, etc done in the colonies.
The minecart/passenger car came to a halt as we hit a small lit room I knew to be the briefing room. I stepped off the minecart and headed inside,
¡°Ah, Leutanant.¡± To my surprise, Oberst Astell was already waiting for us, along with his wife, Major Karol Abeline Smith.
¡°Oberst. Major.¡± I saluted, ¡°Sieg Klaxovia.¡±
¡°Sieg Klaxovia.¡± They saluted back, ¡°At ease.¡±
¡°So, what is this about? I thought you were still working at that tank factory in Ingolstat.¡±
¡°Yes, but we can¡¯t miss this opportunity.¡± He nodded, ¡°I¡¯m not sure if you¡¯ve heard, but the Faywood class of 39 is coming here, and it just so happens that about a week ago, they decided to allow female students to attend Faywood.
¡°This relates to us how?¡±
¡°According to our spy, the first female student...will be her Highness Angelica Britannia.¡±
¡°The First Princess herself?¡± I almost choked, ¡°Are they stupid?¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
¡°No, they¡¯re rubbing their superiority in our faces.¡± Karol spoke up at last. ¡°Normally, they¡¯d be sent to a peaceful country, a colony like Canzaia or Benzil where they mostly mess around. But this is to show the world - and us - that they can do what they want, where they want.¡±
¡°How would this accomplish that?¡± I was confused,
¡°Because they¡¯re likely launching another assault.¡± She continued, ¡°More britannian vehicles roll off the lines every day. Ingolstat is working double time to produce more tanks. We normally only see this kind of activity right before an offensive.¡±
¡°That¡¯s not all. It isn¡¯t just a big showing this time either. They¡¯re serious, General Daylen Howe is heading the operation.¡±
¡°Howe the Howitzer?¡± I blanched, I was young, but even I knew the General¡¯s notorious reputation with indiscriminate bombing and shelling of ¡®enemy¡¯ positions.
¡°Yes, he¡äs been occupied in the Mujadeen lands of the east - something I wish we could thank them for - but with their Shah dead, the new ¡®democratic¡¯ government has sold themselves to the Britannians. Meaning they¡¯ll be bearing down on us with all their weight.¡±
¡°So what do you want me to do then?¡±
¡°Every year, they allow two students from every colony to come. The two highest scores.¡±
¡°You want me to make the cut?¡± I raised an eyebrow,
¡°The test deals with strategy and tactics, you¡¯re the only one we can trust with this. Remember Alko Pass?¡± Astell added
I nodded, I never forgot Alko. But I didn¡¯t want to remember it either.
Taking a look at my paling face, Karol shot her husband a look of ¡®Nice going dumbass.¡¯ Astell looked away uncomfortably, realizing his mistake.
The mod remained somber, as I made up my mind.
¡°I¡¯ll do it, I don¡¯t care what the objective is. I¡¯ll do it.¡±
¡°I wish you wouldn¡¯t say that so readily¡¡± Astell sighed,
¡°What is it?¡±
¡°You see...you¡¯re going there to assassinate the princess.¡±
¡®Assasinate¡.Angelica Ri Britannia.¡¯ I thought.
The Propaganda Mistress herself. I¡¯d never met the girl of course, but her progressivist views made her famous throughout the colonies, and was essential for garnering goodwill.
In Klaxovia however, her reputation was...less than what the Britannian¡¯s wanted to say the least. Particularly since her progressivism never seemed to extend to us.
¡°Kelly! Kelly!¡± A group of children ran up to me,
¡°Yes?¡± I answer,
¡°Why were you called to the Oberst?¡± The Oberst, the common name for Astell Smith. And was the name that the Brtiannian¡¯s refered to their most notorious enemy. Responsible for several decisive defeats of the Britannian Empire. Including the notorious battle of Sailen Forest. Where he defeated a force of six thousand Britannian soldiers with a thousand rebels by luring them into the forest where they couldn¡¯t properly spot for their artillery nor bring in their vehicles, and then broke them up and systematically eliminating them.
¡°I have my next mission, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be seeing you guys for a while.¡± I smile sadly,
¡°Eeeh? That¡¯s okay, if you¡¯re going on a mission then I know it¡¯ll help us!¡± A cheerful little girl said to her,
The words cut me to the heart. Reminding me of who I was.
Of what I¡¯d done.
I took a peek under my glove, a long jagged scar came from where a long piece of shrapnel impaled my arm and hand.
¡°Kelly?¡± The little girl waved her hand, ¡°Hello?¡±
¡°Oh I¡¯m fine.¡± I say offhandedly, ¡°I¡¯m going to the hot springs. Anyone want to join me?¡±