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[ October 2 - The Underground Palace of the Grand Duque ]
The underground palace. Of course it wasn't called such. Others called it the fortress in the mountains, the cellar of the Duque, and more commonly than not; the invisible fortress. But whatever it was called, the palace was within the throws of a major government flux.
"To front,"A certain Mr. Galleheu started. "The Germans have us surrounded. The Laplace can't help us, our Northern Alliance is pratically disbanded. We're speared on all fronts and we have no shields for them. We can only dart our own spears back. It's spears from pikes I say. We're the spears! The Germans; the pikes!"
"By Goodness, Mr. Galleheu!" The admiral said, "I should wish to use our mothball fleet along with two of our heavy cruisers to try and connect with the middle continent. They don't have as much of a stronghold in the North Sea, it's Northern parts and such… So I believe this would be best to get some food. And food only!"
"How goes our attempts to farm?"
"That's beyond question, Mr. Galleheu!" The admiral swiftly stood up, the cup of tea he held took upwards as well. "We failed that regard! And the Germans… Any day now… Will be storming the mountain range! We've tried everything, fortifications running from cliff to cliff. From ledge to ledge! Any I doubt it'd last longer than a month, in all honesty (if we engage in conflict)."
"Say, would they accept a surrender?" Mr. Galleheu through out, like it were someone making a contribution in a school project.
"Don't utter that again. Do not. Not here. Not this place. The Grand Duque hears all things said." The admiral commanded.
"What else should I do in this occasion!" Mr. Galleheu slammed the table, it took the admiral down to sit. "I'm a diplomat! I talk, I do not fight with anything other than words! I should be sent to the German outposts out Lorent! Instead…? I am stuck here, eating bread. The very bread that runs so short in other great nation!"
There was silence. A long silence that ended with the hot breath exiting the Admiral's pale mouth. "If what you want is that. I will try. 'Will,' okay? I will try it. But don't expect anything. I fear the Grand Duque's ire's not solution-able. Should you hear from me, I will deliver it by mail." He took a quick swing of the foot, jumped up, and marched to exit from the door.
Galleheu massaged his hot head. Sighing.
---
Almost all hear round, the mountain-range nation of Lottidenty was cold, was snowy, and was frankly uninhabitable. It started many eons ago, long lost to history. The first people lived here, and now maybe the people of the now will be the last. Galleheu was unsure of a great Lottidenty future. All roads led to Germany, so to speak. How? How can 'I' lead Lottidenty to a united, singular nation?
He lived upon the 'flatlands' of Ephil (just North of Lorent). Although Lottidenty was all Fjord and mountain, Ephil was prime real-estate. Formed just right; became a pleateau.
Every since last year, the place had been decked with guns, fortifications, and all sorts of military activity. The Board knew that if Lorent failed. All other cities will too. Galleheu's hometown was the last hope for all the Northern regions.
Walking on the streets, a woolen great coat on (evidently Ruskan-made), he took note of the new installations. There were new naval guns. Although the pleateau was far from the sea, apparantly these ones were specially just for the air.
He's heard of it before. News circulated the day after the fall of Blastphere, and the weeks that followed. Germany had the ability to fly. And what they used? They weren't dragoons… No. Not even armored dragoons (which frankly had never been done). They were machines of flight.
Just like the tanks Lottidenty has so much now. Just like the warships docked upon Lottidenty's few naval ports. Germany's so-called; 'flying machines.' Were just as mechanical as those two. But wholly unbelievable. And the kicker? It was fully metal.
There was so much confusion a year ago, when shipwrights were given plans to construct iron-built ships of war. "It couldn't be done!" One'd say. "Impossible!" The other'd laugh. But of course, it was all about weight, displacement. Not that wood was just 'the' option because of it's 'natural' buoyancy. If only Archimedes' principles were here to teach them of such things.
But Galleheu was in the now. He'll worry about those planes later. The shipwrights shouldn't even be in his mind. What he should worry about. "Is the people." He muttered upon his breath.
He stared down the pavement road, the busy avenue of people, shops, light, and much white-snow. There were many smiling faces walking down that street. There was of course sorrow hiding behind the walls of the houses. Not every house, but one's bound to be so. He knew what face constituted which painful expression. That that laugh was forced for a reason. That those smiles had too little creases because of that or this.
It was because of the Grand Duque.
May traditionalism… May this Contemporarianism shove itself upon it's ass and eat it's insides! He said drunkenly in a bar one night. Thankful that the people in the bar were close friends, and no-one reported him to the authorities.
That exactly… That mindset… 'Reporting people to the police.' Galleheu knew why people would do such. Galleheu knew why it was stupid to say such things (even while drunk) and even still. The source, the reason… It was idiotic. He'd whimper at night thinking about it. That saying such things would land him in the slammer after one report called.
It's fear.
It's fear against change. Fear against normality. Fear against betraying the motherland. The royal Duque and his family imposed so many harsh rules. Had killed so many peasants all because of some simple thing done. And that's silenced the people. Made everyone slaves to the royal family. Afraid to disobey.
The women, the men, and the children too! All were not spared. Galleheu although… He had a plan. An outrageously insane plan that (should) end the war. Killing the Grand Duque.
( * )
It was the eighth of October. Galleheu still hadn't received a mail from the admiral he talked to. And, in all actuality, he didn't really expect anything to bloom from that. And so did it seem that nothing would ever bloom from that conversation.
Through some connections and some money, he was able to get newspapers, University of Germany articles, and other stuff related to Germany from a backdoor contact he had in Southern Lorent.
New machinery, new technology, new modern stuff. Things Galleheu wanted to witness through his own eyes. But leaving Lottidenty was harder than one might think. His backdoor contact was a Kerfelizian-contracted Germanic soldier. A mouthful for sure. And could only do so under very specific, very time-bound moments of the month.
And that night of October; he had received it.
The articles were relatively recent, there were some from September regarding the Blastphere invasion. But these recent ones (about the heat in Kerfeliz) were intriguing to him. "I should get in contact with the Germans within this part of time, if relations with the Kerfeliz region'd be failing, the Germans should be more lax in Southern Lorent…"
Energized, smiling; he threw the papers he received upon a chest. Throwing himself upwards. "Mr. Foon!" He called out, "please prepare the Heo! I shall leave for Lorent!"
A distant yet radiant; "Yes, master Galleheu, it shall be prepared!" There was a number of footsteps pitter-pattering upon the wooden floorboards the next room over. A door opening, and a hard slamming. Then the infamous low-bellowing 'neigh' of a Heo.
( * )
It was too silent, too empty. Too less that it seemed that it was intentional when it shouldn't be. It shouldn't be, right? His heo walked slowly upon the knee-deep snow of some valley, two steep mountain climbs just to his left and right.
There were brambles, remnants of trees the farther he and his heo went upon the dirt path. He was illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon, overshadowded by the mountains, and his guide was his heo, a well trained one at that. This Northern species of horse was designed for the frigid, the steep and treacherous.
Having developed fat legs, tougher hides for skin, and more blunter heads, they didn't even look like horses anymore.
Then. A light. It was distinctly white. Unlike the warm glow of a torch, a candle upon the inner casing of a lantern; this light can be described only in a new word, electric.
A metal sound. Galleheu knew these were the sounds of guns flinging upwards. "I come in peace!" He yelled, raising his hands upwards.
"State your name! Your business, and your reason for coming here!" A voice from the light harshly shouted, very commanding.
"Galleheu Mounte. Come's in Parley, hopefully to reach a sort of friendship!"
There was a moment of silence. Were they confused? Maybe awestruck at his boldness? There was too much silence to gather a consensus… An answer to this question was not reachable.
Then another voice, more calm and collected, Galleheu suspected it was their captain. Or whatever the Germans referred to their respected seniors. "Who are you?"
"I am a diplomat!"
The light neared. It neared until it was just five steps away from his heo. Galleheu could make up the face of the person holding the light. The face doesn't resemble the face of a stern man (like the first voice). The face was neutral, listless almost. Yet it calmed Galleheu. In a way that he could not describe.
His electric lamp made it easy to also see his uniform. It was jet-black. He wore a decorated hat, and his suit was just as decorated, with red lapels running down the middle of his suit.
"You intrigue me, diplomat!" He said with a smirk. "Here I though this day would be boring, but here you are! In the deep pits of Souther Lorent… Wait a minute; you're in German territory Mr. Diplomat. These parts of the mountain-ranges are technically within Kerfeliz's old borders I.e our borders…"
The man clipped his lamp onto his hip (Galleheu guessed, it was hard to see in the blizzard). Then he took the short walk to close the distance, he saw Galleheu's expression. His cold shivers, his red nose… He looked calm but the man knew Galleheu was weary.
"I shall detain you for the illegal crossing."
( * )
[ 11:27 PM Germany, Crescent Town ]
The Land Ship stood motionless upon the station. It's hundreds of illuminated windows creating this breath-taking illusion upon the horizon. As if there were stars so close upon the ground.
Cresent Town, from September onwards had became rather over-run with military activity. Buildings were being constructed at fast paces, fortifications were made upon the town and the surrounding lands. There were even artillery positions with these huge immovable spires that were called howitzers.
To Galleheu, this was a dream come true. It might also be the same from Fachus. "I have yet to talk to someone from Lottidenty, and for someone of your caliber, I wish for our talk to be quite enticing. So tell me your business."
He hesitated a little. It was warm, cozy within this concrete-built building. And it was silent. It also didn't feel like eyes were prying upon his conversation like he had felt while within the Grand Duque's underground palace.
"I wish too…" He stared at the coffee offered to him, how the steam that flew up to his face warmed him up further. "I wish to kill the Grand Duque."
The sudden and outlandish statement made Fachus chuckle a little bit, making him lower the coffee he was about to drink. "How're you gonna do that?"
"I… I don't have a set idea yet. But I am quite certain that step one was to get in contact with the Germans."
Fachus sat aback his seat, "you are in good hands Mr. Galleheu. However for I'm only a railway General, I have no hands in this matter. And, it does not matter that much Mr. Galleheu! It doesn't… It really doesn't…"
"What does that mean?" Galleheu had a morose, defeated expression that Fachus didn't know how to react to. "I am in need of your help, Germany should help me in this scenario. The citizens of Lottidenty don't want this war. We are intellectuals (unlike the Grand Duque). And we can silently off this war if we just kill the source."
Fachus contemplated. Galleheu sat silent. The wind quickly picked up outside, it seems that the blizzard was extending into Cresent town. "Blizzards in October…" Fachus broke the silence, "It's very weird, and I wonder (very much-so) how the Lottidenty survive such cold, harsh weather."
Galleheu remained silent. Looking at the coffee. It had already stopped steaming.
"Will your absence be of any trouble?" Finally! Something related.
"No, I do not think so. I have currently no duties to tend to in Lottidenty."
"Then I say you should be off your way to Unchean!" He took the coffee and gulped it under one fell swoop. "The Land Ship sets sail to Unchean in an hour. You will have to leave your… Horse? Out here, there are no stables upon the Land Ship."
Galleheu looked upon the now standing Fachus with intrigued eyes. "Unchean. Unchean? Unchean! Yes, Unchean… Mr. General, if it is alright with you; please take me. Take me to your house of government! I can help treumendously in this war."
"I am sure you can."
---
Up-close, Galleheu couldn't comprehend the massive iron wall before him. The most he's seen of such technologies was when he himself personally oversaw the ceremony for the launching of one of Lottidenty's heavy cruisers (he doesn't remember the name).
The train was two storeys tall, and the engine was menacing. He's seen pictures of the German Express before. And that was also a double decker, just that the front part was more blunt and… Friendlier looking? The Land Ship had a sharper front, and it looked like a nose with how this front went all the way up to (in ship terms) the bridge of the train. (Which is two storeys up).
The all iron… The metal coating upon the train, coupled with the several mounts of guns upon the train body, made it also very ferociously foreboding. "There are officer lounges upon the first few cabs!" Fachus yelled at Galleheu (as the wind made it impossible to be coherent), he gestured him to follow him upwards one of the many bulk-head like doors upon the Land Ship's side.
An assistant set up this mechanical step ladder that aided in their entrance. Just as the two of them entered, the train blew a dissonant horn. Two earth-rocking booms that blew through all of Crescent Town, probably even all of Kerfeliz with how it would vibrate the inside of your body.
But all of it disappeared as soon as the assistant promptly closed the bulkhead through some elaborate mechanical and physical movements that Galleheu had no business intruding how it works.
It was industrially cold, although it was comfortably hot. "It's not because we're near the engine. We've got a heater circulating all around. Especially needed when we're stuck in the North. It's a bit quirky though, it'll shut down at times, so we're left to the warmth of our bodies and pray that the cold doesn't give us frostbite."
Galleheu made sure to record his surroundings to the best of his ability. How this pipe went there, how the soldiers stood by upon this room since there was a gun there, and how the floors, how the walls, how the ceilings looked.
A sharp turn from this hallway, and a stairwell; "we're here." Fachus opened a door, a name plate above, Lt. General of the Railway told Galleheu as he needed.
"You shall make yourself comfortable upon my quarters. You may walk upon the train's many decks. There's a officer's mess hall two cabs away from here," -he stepped towards Galleheu, giving him a card- "present that to the soldiers round' that area so you can enter."
"Right on, thank you very much, General Sir."
"You're welcome," he threw his suit upon the couch, walked towards the kitchen to get something to drink.
Galleheu, observant, looked every which way. It was surprisingly home-like. With wooden boards, comfortable gilted chairs, books upon the bookshelf (probably never read), wooden furniture, and warm lighting. Just a few steps after the front door, there was this huge metal wall behind another wall of (apparent) thick glass panels.
Movement.
It jolted Galleheu a litte bit, making him stumble backwards; but the whole train was now moving. He felt the train's many wheels turn and chuggle-chuggle. And he heard the horn once more, however muffled it may be under the thick plates of metal.
It kept a steady motion and became easier to stand up straight.
"T-that thing you're lookin' at." Fachus said, finishing the water drink he took. "That's a collapsible wide-window! Stretches across the whole room of mine. Here, if you wanna' see the view;" -he pressed a red button inside a tiny metal box upon the metal wall- "there, you'll find it amazing."
Chul-chuk, then a duk-sprk! The heavy metal shielding slowly cascaded upwards like a fan. Revealing the snow-white sky, the nearby black silhouettes of land, dead trees, and abandoned houses. And far away, Galleheu could swear he saw the outline of Lottidenty's mountain ranges.
Oh, sweet home.