𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 | ʜᴇʟᴍᴜᴛ ᴢᴇᴍᴏ

𝟑 ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

novi grad, sokovia

2015

The spring air was slightly cool enough to make Kalina shiver, but the rising sun felt relieving on her skin, as she sat at a cafe table outside one of the old, main squares in Novi Grad. The buildings surrounding her still appeared worn down and bruised, obviously affected by the war-torn history of the region. Businesses has attempted to clean their exteriors and present a more modern touch, but broken rubble and old grey brick still painted a picture of old world Soviet influence. She patiently waited for Anastasia to arrive, as she wrote notes in her event calendar and questioned her schedule for the upcoming week.

Snow lightly painted the ground, some not melted from the winter. May in Sokovia was technically considered a spring month, but to Kalina it felt winter enough today. She lightly pulled her jacket up over her shoulders more, to cut any breeze that may hinder the warmth of the morning sun. Light cloud cover lingered behind the mountains enveloping the city, and it was dissipating as the sun began to crest the peaks.

Sipping on a latte that had obviously been brewed with some mineral water, over Sokovia's second-world, contaminated tap, she sighed and looked out at the street in front of her. Cars were driving in true Novi Grad fashion, aggressive and with purpose. Everyone had a place to be, and they were never where they intended on time.

Kalina missed it still, Sokovia was truly home, and no matter where she lived, she could never replace the country that her roots were buried deep in. The country had begun to tear itself apart, in protest and riot, and Kalina no longer felt the sense of warmth and hospitality from the homeland. The people were hurt, and she felt their pain. Military invasions, political protests, and air raids had impacted the country for nearly two decades, and while it was easy to hide behind rose colored glasses, Kalina had decided to no longer shield herself from the community.

Returning to Novi Grad for a short visit, she intended to lay a vision before Anastasia, of helping the citizens in any way she could. Anastasia's husband, Mikael, was now a member of the Office of the Sokovian President, and Kalina wanted to design her vision informally before bringing it to the hands of officials.

It was a lot, but her heart broke for her brothers and sisters, and having left to Paris to start a life of her own, she felt a moral obligation tugging at her chest to support the home she loved so dearly. Kalina's primary focus was to establish a fund to monetarily assist families whose personal businesses had either gone under due to the crash of the Sokovian Dollar, or had been destroyed in the air raids of years prior, and could not manage to get to their feet again.

She was a businesswoman, and this was her specialty. If she could convince private Sokovian stakeholders to contribute, for the good of the country, it would not cost the government a dime. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes. The last organization she wanted to deal with was the Sokovian government. Feeling like they had already failed the citizens, Kalina harbored a small bit of resentment toward the officials sworn to protect them. She was blessed, but knew many families who were not so fortunate.