Borneo; A Collection of Short Stories from Yavva

7. SWAN'S SONG (PART I)

The turmoil in Yavva is as unique as one could hope to imagine.

Humanity, it seems, is always fascinated by tragedy, and where else would one find such stories if not in a place torn by civil war and chaos? One such story played on my heartstrings and morality in these desperate times. It was told to me by a young widow who lost her husband to the chaos enveloping this country. My friends at the Bureau of Archives certainly did enjoy this tale, and had pushed me to write it down, to bring it to a larger audience.

Some of you who live near the smoky, clouded battlegrounds at the edge of the glamorous hilltops of the bourgeoisie's gold-lined mansions, where the ear-ringing protesters shout their propaganda at the deaf ears of the fat immovable socialites of this city, may be familiar with this tale.

It all starts with a preacher.

A preacher who wished to not be named, for she believes that a name, fame in all its form, only hinders the message. And the fact that she is preaching anti-war ideologies, makes her a prime target for both parties. The core of her preachings are simple -a fact that all men must know if they aren't blinded by fanaticism or other earthly distractions, that our concept of good and evil is nonexistent; these thoughts were only made because of one's inclination towards a certain faction, leading them to perceive the other as evil.

And it is quite true, if not for the fact that her stories only fuel the hatred towards the other faction. The truth is, our people are too dense to see the wrongs in their own perception. That we tend to rally in groups that look similar to their own kind and vilify the otherworldly. This story only serves to dispel that perception, not the idea that war is inherently bad. In fact, I believe this story as a whole only serves to forward the idea that we needed to completely eradicate the other faction for their villainous deeds.

She stood atop a little podium at the crossroads, a small crowd surrounding her, intently listening to her preachings. Og the contents I am about to transcribe below;

Hear ye, hear ye! Come closer for a chilling tale, a horrifying massacre has unfolded in our lovely city. Under the shroud of night, a group of soldiers of both sides marched upon a manor within the upper echelon of society, committing unspeakable horrors as they suspected its denizens of conspiring against their own factions. Many innocent villagers met a gruesome fate, their lives extinguished in a silent night of dread. Only one woman is said to have survived the onslaught. Are we to believe that evil has a face? Or is it the nature of these uncertain times that has brought evil to the face of men? The air hangs heavy with grief and dread as the true horror of this vile deed is revealed. Let us honour the lost souls of this brutal attack and beseech for peace in these dark times. These horrors are fueled by the rage of men believing to be righteous, yet these acts must not be given a façade, for war in and of itself, is the true face of evil. Stay wary, and goodnight.

Intrigued, I sat at a nearby bus stop, waiting until she was finished. As she stepped down from the podium, I walked towards her and invited her for coffee at a café some distance away, saying that I was with the Bureau of Archives, interested in picking up this story and telling it to a wider audience.

To make a long story short, she finally introduced me to the lady behind the story.

Lady Zara as she was called, is of Dutch nationality. She moved to La Tulpe, Yavva, about three years prior, promising to help her husband of local nationality bring peace to these troubled lands. She believed that her nationality and her marriage to a local man may help the cause for peace.

Mr. Solomons was a local man, a soldier bound by oath to protect his land. We were led to believe that the interior of Yavva is always peaceful, yet the strong scent of intrigue was always there, even in my time serving as a mercenary for the king many years ago. Mr. Solomons caught wind of the underlying rumours and was among the first men to act as a revolutionary leader working to prevent the shady dealings that occur within. Everything seemed well, that is until last year's assassination of the neighbouring kingdom, and the chaos that followed. The underworld of La Tulpe proved to be too beastly to tame by the silent efforts of these revolutionaries.

For while the Lady fought through politics, poetry, and songs, Mr. Solomons made some moves in his profession that were, to his peers, questionable. This all came to a head just a few months ago, when the assassination was made public after the death of Midas Gathwyn. Solomons was accused of being a part of Midas' 'terrorist group' and was outcast from the military, finding sanctuary within the numerous gangs that rule La Tulpe's underworld. And with the rise of these gangs -The Maanharkrs, The Brigantines, The Theo Cheri, and the Gabriels- all unified under one revolutionary flag, those within the government feared that Solomons knew too much.

Yet within the underworld itself, the stench of distrust is strong against Solomons, due to the fact that he married a Dutch woman -the enemy.