The archive of the forgotten

The pedestal of power

The blood ball

I enter the halls of the ballroom. The high churchlike ceilings echoes the beautiful music that the orchestra produces. And there above the stage is the red flag. The flag with the golden sun was once white, but they changed and this flag is the reason. It is not dyed with dye no, it is dyed with deaths. THe iron smell of blood is subtle but when you pay attention you can clearly smell it. I looks at all the designer clothes everybody is wearing, I wish I still had money. From all these brands I once had plenty and they seemed so incredibly cheap. I take a deep breath. Those days are over hadrian. Face it. The golden embroidery I made on my jacket makes it seem expensive. In reality it is an old one, but I do not care. I look at the vice president form the university. I take a deep breath of course she needs to do something like that.

It is the uniform from the former rebels but it looks like the flesh in from of her ribcage has been ripped out, complete with beddazlement and diamonds. I understand that a blood ball might be the perfect occasion for this kind of dress but it isn't. Just put on a red gown like all the others, or a red tuxedo. Because believe me preffesore ediga it only makes you seem like a sadist. Well, to be honest it wouldn't be all too strange with proffesor Ediga. She reminds me of a book from the old times, one where a extremely smart girl somehow defeats the headmistress. She reminds me of the headmistress

I am talking with some of my friends when suddenly proffesor Augustus walks up to us. Professor Augustus normally does not really talk to his students but he once worked very closely with my father so I know him. Professor augustus has some mysterious function in the government and of course he is also our universities president

"Hardian Marcus Huron" He says as he hugs me. I am confused by his attitude towards me as we are not close. But I guess he works in mysterious ways. "How are you doing Proffesor." I say with a light smile. Not sure what to think of this strangely average man with his dark hair and darker mustache. "Have I ever told you about the way your father sang whenever there was a big ball?" I shake my head. "But my mother has." "I have heard a rumour that you have you father's voice. The voice of a nightingale!" He goes on. "Well have you professor." I look at Claudius, one of my best friends with raised eyebrows. Wanting to ask him what is happening here. But he shrugs and makes a face of I have no idea. "And your father must have taught you our beautiful anthem." I laugh, my father helped writing it, of course I would know that song. I know it from before it was the national anthem, only the words differed from time to time.

"Well, Hadrian would you be so kind to sing it for us? Our singer for today has regretfully caught a cold." Ï am not sure if I" But several of my friends have already pushed me onto the stage. I take the microphone and take a deep breath. "Hello everyone, I am not ready for this so please forgive me if I am a little bit pitchy." I say while the lights dim and a spotlight starts to shine on me.

I take a breath and as I sing the first notes of the anthem I try my best to hide my hatred for some things, things like this. This country, this ball, This brutality, these people would look at the brutal images of the last war behind me and are glad that it has happened. That do not mourn the ones who died but either hate them or revere them as heroes. It is absurd it is like a dystopia. My mouth releases the beautiful song that makes me think of my dear dead father.

Hoist the red flag

Proud and bright

Reflections of the greatness consume my mind

Let the flag lead you

Till the only flag you know is the red one

People are singing it, dancing to it and looking intently at the ruins that were there when it happened on the images showed behind me. The orchestra perfectly harmonizez with my voice, I feel hatred in my heart. I hesitate and look at the dancing members of the university and high society before singing it the way my father taught me

Hoist the red flag

Full of tragedy and blood

Reflections of death and suffering

The flag was once white

Blood stained it

But this is still the greatest country

Right?

Hoist the red flag

Proud and gleaming

The ruby in our crown jewel

So smile and tell yourself you weren't the fool

If not, were you simply cruel?

But this is the greatest country in the world

Right?

the desciption of this book is: After the two last years of tragedy Hadrian has had enough tragedy for his whole life. He is not much different than anybody else from his age, yes he needs to work hard to feed his family, he is the son of a famous military leader, writes for fun. Nothing too strange. But than new ideas begin to disturb his normal life, he doesn't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing but it leads him down an interesting path. Allow him to take you with him.

It focuses heavily on politics, fascism, a bit of communism, society's standards, family, wealth and poverty and old reputations.