This Isn't About Reya

Chapter One

(November 22, 1886 RV)

 

Reya Chernykh was not of Russian lineage. Her family hailed from the similarly harsh environment of Iceland, which was absorbed into the New Soviet Union in 828 RV. In the almost-thousand-years since, true Russian bloodlines had managed to evade hers entirely, and the racism of the NSU towards her ethnicity had not dimmed in the slightest.

That was most likely how she found herself cornered in the bathroom of her academy, being taunted and terrorized by the haughty Russian girls of her class who called themselves the pures.

She cowered, arms protecting her face, back against the cold marble walls. The ring leader of the Russians was named Svetlana, and it was she who directed the torturous actions of her fellow pures. 

She stood mightily over Reya, her white-blond hair falling straight down her back royally. She was tall, athletic, and unfortunately cunning. "Cry, mutt," she purred coldly. "That's all you are - a mutt - the mixed blood of a thousand bitches from the countries we've conquered."

Reya looked up at Svetlana with disgust. The Russian girl saw her expression and spat at it.

"Bark, bitch," Svetlana said.

 

******

 

Reya shuffled along through the snow, her fingers gingerly rubbing the bruise on the side of her face. The pain lingered still, an hour later, and she wondered what her mother would say.

The pine trees stretching high into the grey sky stood like titanic palisades on either side of her. Trudging through the cold, Reya turned her head to look sullenly into the darkness of those woods. Her green eyes peered deep into the trees, but she saw nothing. 

At fifteen years old, she was still scared of the shadows. She laughed quietly to herself. "I should be more worried about Svetlana and her pures," she whispered. "They're actually real."

She walked for almost ten minutes before she reached the point where the road exited the dim forest, but her apartment was only a five minute walk from there. She could see it, squat and cream-colored, like all the rest. It was four buildings down the road from where the apartments started, on the left side.

Reya scowled at it, blowing a strand of her brown hair out of her face. "I hate this place," she muttered quietly. "Why do we have to live here? Nobody likes us, we're just typical Scandinavians."

She let out a humph. "Not even Russians, and we're living in a Russian Empire."

As she walked, the snow crunching under her feet, a muffled crack sounded from behind her.

Reya froze.

Another crack, like a branch being broken.

Reya spun about, peering at the edge of the woods which stretched only a few feet behind her. Her eyes searched along the border, but saw nothing.

Her childish fears told her something was wrong. Something was there, in those woods. Was it following her?

"Who's there?" she yelled.

Of course, there was no response. 

"Don't follow me! I have a knife! I'll kill you!" she screamed.

Not a shadow flitted in the obscurity of the forest.

Reya shivered. She hated the woods, her apartment, the Russians, the whole planet, their empire - she hated everything.

She turned back towards her house and jogged. "Once I'm old enough, I'll leave," she vowed. "I'll leave this fucking planet and go live in the Eastern European Confederation. That's where the Swedes went. I'll  be accepted there."

As she jogged, a tear rolled down her cheek.

The shadows watched her the whole way.