Pain In Our Hearts

[Oneida]

City of Tauritania

“Tauritania is not like the other cities of Auraria,” Samuel wrote “It’s a city of humble opulence. Its people know well the battles it has, is, and will fight. It’s a place where any man can feel human in a world where such behavior is vice.”

Tauritania is the second largest city of Auraria, located along its eastern shore. The perfect blue waters of the Long Sea create a striking contrast against the green mountainous regions that surround the city, which often appears orange due to the sun’s reflection off the buildings. The scene is reflected in the City’s flag – a bicolor of Green and blue with an orange ball in the middle.

“Ironically,” Sam scribbled “the flag is kind of ugly.”

Holding more historic sites than other city in Auraria, Tauritania is sometimes considered to be the nation’s heart – forever preserving what the character of a peoples who forged a nation. Depending on your view, it either celebrates the liberated human soul or has bastardized the teachings of God…but that normally goes hand in hand.

The city predates the arrival of the Tiburans and got its name from the mighty empire. Literally, “the Land of Bulls,” Tauritania was named after the extremely popular practice of bullfighting in the city at the time. Such a practice went on to become linked to the identity of the Aurarians, which may be one of the reasons it has lost favor in the city itself. The site of the Tiburan landing is Puerta Vulturna, named after the Tiburan God of the East Wind – whom they believed is what brought them to the peninsula.

“Solis…is wonderful,” Samuel continued “but Tauritania is fun, everything stays here. The memories you make here are yours, not the business of anyone else. I’m happy to be back, even if for just a short while.”

A loud bang came as the door to Samuel’s room flung open.

“Have you not heard me calling?” Vincente asked.

“Sorry, Vince,” Samuel replied, putting his journal down on the end table and getting up. He threw on his red hoodie and began walking toward the door.

“No,” Vincente shook his hands and head “There’s no way you’re going out dressed like that. It looks like you want to die. This is the festival of lights, not the festival of depression. Did you bring anything to wear that isn’t simply embarrassing?”

“No,” Samuel answered “It’s fine...I really don’t care.”

“God,” Vincente shook his head “You’re not doing yourself very many favors. Let’s go.”

The two walked downstairs to where a small crowd of people had assembled. A few guys, a few girls. “Maybe I should have brought different clothes,” Samuel thought to himself seeing a group of people who looked certainly dressed to impress. Jeans, a gray shirt, and a half zipped hoodie weren’t going to cut it.

“Amigos!” Vincente shouted “This is Samuel, from University City in Solis. He’s a bit stiff, so get him good and drunk.” The group gave an enthusiastic wave which was met by Samuel’s half smile. One of them handed him a glass. Some mix of vodka and soda, probably more vodka. “There’s no shell that vodka can’t crack,” Vincente whispered to Samuel.

“So, University City?” a girl said, as she approached Samuel “Solis is hours from here. You rode all that way?”

“It’s the Festival of Lights,” Samuel answered, sipping his drink nonstop in the hopes alcohol would takeover.

“Right…but it’s just another night of drinking and sex, only difference is everyone’s putting up colorful decorations and it’s slightly less embarrassing to be puking on the side of the street at 3:00AM. You came here for that?” she pressed.

“Well,” Samuel replied “I’m not sure about you, but I don’t puke. I can handle my liquor.”

The girl laughed and walked back to the bar, taking out two shot glasses and pouring the same bottom shelf Kadiki vodka into both glasses.

“I know,” she said “the vodka is as disgusting as the place it comes from, but its cheap. My name is Carmen.”

She handed Samuel the shot, which he happily took. The two cheered, and drank their shots.

“It gets the job done, Carmen” Samuel answered “that’s all it has to do.”

Vincente interrupted the entire group and said that it was time for them to go. The group huddled out of the tiny Tauritanian apartment and went into the streets. The historic sector is a mass of cobblestone streets and buildings that sprawl in any which way. It is often thought that the designers of the city had as much care and forethought as the bulls they fought. Still, even the tightest alleyways were full of people and above their heads, the streets were adorned in banners, lights, flags, and tapestries of all colors.

It didn’t take long for the entire night to start to be a blend. From club to club, bar to bar, street to street, drink to drink, the festival was being celebrated in the only way it could. The group was dwindling as some members turned back to their apartment or the apartments of someone they’ve been dancing with. Samuel had no idea how long the night went on for, but by the time they made it to San Carlo beach, the roars of the festival dulled. The beach was covered in cups and trash as everyone had left from the fireworks display – the largest in all of Auraria. It was dim and spotted only with a few couples desperately hoping to find a bit of romance in a night known for its debauchery. Shocking, Samuel thought, he found himself there with Carmen.

“What are you going to school for?” Carmen broke the brief silence.

“Books…” Samuel answered “well literature, Aurarine Literature.”

“Fucking literature?” Carmen exclaimed “What the fuck are you going to do with that?”

“I like to write,” he answered “I like to tell people’s stories, share them, make the world a little bit smaller.”

“So, what’s your story?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’m more interested in everyone else’s. I guess mine will come later.”

“Ugh,” Carmen laughed “You’re like a shadow.”

“A shadow?”

“Yeah, the whole night you just stood in the back and watched people. Now here you are talking about wanting to learn other people’s lives but I feel like you don’t want to live your own,” Carmen went off “Imagine what you could learn about yourself if you tried and just went out there.”

“I went to university.”

Carmen laughed “Yeah, you had the opportunity to go anywhere in the world and see anything and you chose Solis.”

“Where would you have gone?”

Carmen’s tone changed. She turned from looking at Samuel to looking at the water. She leaned back and dug her hand into the sand, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know, but it really doesn’t matter anymore.” She said.

“Why not?”

“My father lost his job two years ago. He worked at the canning factory up in Teruel. Things haven’t really been the same since then. I decided it would be best to stay home, help him and my brother.”

“That’s the factory that was going to close, wasn’t it?” Samuel asked.

“It was, but then they reached an agreement and let go workers to keep it going,” Carmen replied “My dad had been there his whole life, but they left him go. They gave a whole list of reasons, lowering pension costs, bringing in a new work force, trying to find different opportunities…whatever.”

“I’m sorry,” Samuel said.

“It’s okay,” Carmen answered “He got a new job a few months ago at the zinc factory just south of here. It doesn’t pay as much and the hours aren’t great, but it helps.”

Carmen rested her head against Samuel’s arm. He took the opportunity to put his arm around her and the two sat there like that for, what seemed to Samuel, was an eternity. Eventually, Carmen broke the silence and turned to Samuel.

“You know, underneath that ragged hair, you have very cute eyes.”

Samuel smiled at her as Carmen leaned in for the kiss.

 

[Oneida]

City of Tauritania

“Oh come on Sam,” Carmen yelled, pulling a reluctant Sam down the street “it’s not much farther!”

The two turned the tight corners of Old Tauritania. Samuel had always enjoyed this part of the city, it had an ability to transport you back in the days of the renaissance when architecture was art. It had always been believed that Tauritania was designed by drunkards for drunkards. The streets of this city were so twisting, winding, with seemingly no rhyme or reason – it was so easy to get lost. The fact that Carmen could so confidently navigate came from years of experience.

On the last turn of a seemingly endless run, they came across a small plaza. There was a fountain in the middle, with benches and trees at every corner. Surrounding the area were a number of shops, selling anything from coffee, to vapes, to marijuana. The pride flag and the black and red flag of Anarchy hung from the windows across the buildings. People, dressed scantily – especially for the cold air of Pruinames (Oct. / Nov.) – danced in the streets, clearly drunk. The centerpiece of the plaza was an old, gothic church. Two columns flanked the large wooden door, on the top of the column hung down the Anarchist and Pride Flags. At the center of the church’s façade was a marvelous, ornate rose window.

“Where are we?” asked Samuel.

“Oh,” Carmen laughed, pulling him into the Church “we’re in the greatest place on Earth.”

There was a long line to get into the Church, people were taking off their coats and handing them to the bouncers at the door, who promptly handed them to another worker who hung them in a room off to the side. Each person then handed the bouncer a variable amount of money before going in. When Samuel got to the front of the line, he handed his coat to the bouncer along with his ID. The bouncer smiled at Samuel, covering the ID with his hand and pushing Samuel’s arm back to his chest.

“We don’t tell if you don’t,” the Bouncer told him.

“Is there a cover?” Samuel replied, nervously.

“Only what you can give, compañero,” the Bouncer smiled. Sam handed him a few bills from his pocket, and the bouncer moved aside to let him into the main room.

The main room was unlike anything that Sam had ever seen. It was a long, narrow room. Obviously, it was the main chapel of the former Church where sermons were held. The Pews were ripped out, with the ground covered in dancers. On either side of the room were bars with shelves upon shelves of liquor. The high ceilings of the gothic church had lines zigzagging left and right with flags hanging from them, from countries across the world. At the far end of the bar was a statute of Jesus – flanking him were two anarchist flags. The Jesus statue itself was covered in jewelry, make up, and feather boas of all different colors. On the walls were six stained windows – three on either side. However, these were unlike any that Sam had ever seen. Only one of the stained windows had religious iconography – the rest were images of ordinary people. One had a mother holding a baby, the other had a farmer, an industrialist, a book with a feather pen, three couples embracing (one man-woman, woman-woman, man-man). The final one was an image of Saint Mary. Through the booming music, Sam turned to Carmen and asked: “why is Saint Mary there?”

“Because we aren’t done, darling,” a voice called from the back – Sam turned around to see who answered him.

Standing before him was a tall man, at least he thought, dressed in a red sanguine dress. The dress had black feathers lining its neck and sleeves, as well as intricate black trim making designs along the seams. The man was bald, but had large, obviously drawn on eyebrows and more makeup than Sam had seen on any human being. Carmen immediately ran up to the individual and they embraced.

“Carmen,” he said “my love – it’s so good to see you again, as beautiful as ever.”

The man looked over to Sam “Oh my, what have you brought with you?”

“That’s Samuel,” she replied “he’s a friend of mine.”

“A friend?” Sam couldn’t help but mutter.

“Oh he’s delightful, Carmen,” the man replied, walking up to him “Hello there pretty, my name is Don Juan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, extending his hand – Don Juan smiled and ignored it, his attention turning to Carmen “So what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again so soon, my dear?”

“Sam’s never been,” she replied “I figured he had to see it!”

“Oh I knew that, love,” Don Juan answered “he wreaks of piety.”

Don Juan turned around again and looked Sam up and down.

“Don Juan,” Sam spoke up “What did you mean ‘we aren’t done’?”

Sam pointed to the stained glass of Saint Mary.

“Oh yes,” Don Juan replied “This Church was taken over during the Revolution. Now its windows tell the stories of the peoples who built civilization – not Gods and myths. But that one…that one symbolizes that we still have much work to go before such fantasies are erased from this Earth. It serves as a constant reminder that while here we are all family, out there…out there the revolution continues.”

Carmen shot a smile to Sam, who was in awe at Don Juan’s answer.

“I knew you two had to meet,” Carmen exclaimed “Can we go somewhere a little quieter, you two need to talk.”

Don Juan smiled and gestured for the two of them to follow. His copious amount of jewelry clanging as he moved his arm. Carmen and Sam followed him into a back room, where the ancient brick walls closed out the sound. There were sets of couches, organized in squares, throughout the room. Others were occupied by people in…varying degrees of public decency.

“Come sit,” Don Juan said and they did.

“Do you own this place?” Sam asked – Don Juan smiled.

“You are quite precious,” he answered “No, my dear, no one owns this place. It is our place. I may live here the most, but I certainly have no claim to own what rightfully belongs to all of us.”

“Who pays for it?” Sam continued.

“We all do, as much as we can. Others give their time. Don’t think of payment as such a monolithic concept,” Don Juan replied “This place is the Id, to reference that adorable Effeilandian sociologist, this is the place where we all come to be who we are. Instead of the world’s judgement, here the people are celebrated for being true to themselves.”

“I’m writing a paper on the Free Community,” Sam said “Would you say this is it?”

“It’s a part,” Don Juan laughed again “you’re not the first to come here and write about ‘the free community’.” His tone was sarcastic, chuckling at Sam. “If you want to learn about the community, you need to live it. Stay the night tonight and tomorrow travel the Path. I can tell you where to go next. If you won’t commit, then drop your stupid ideas now.”

“Where should we sleep?” Carmen asked, cutting off Sam.

“There’s beds upstairs. I’m sure there’s a free one or two. The sheets could be...well…used, but probably clean enough. If that sort of thing bothers you, you won’t make it far. You two seem to be, together – right? Try not to take up two beds then. Plus, its cold up there so just enjoy each other’s embrace,” Don Juan smiled “but first, you simply must have a drink.”

 

[Oneida]

City of Tauritania

As Sam rose, a sharp pain immediately stabbed into his back. “Gah!” he exclaimed grabbing his back.

“It’s the beds,” a random name said, putting on his shoes “they do that to you. Still, better than the streets.”

Sam got out of his twin bed. Somehow, Carmen had managed to sneak out without even waking him. As soon as he sat up, he noticed that the room hadn’t caught up to his eyes, his vision blurred and the spinning started. He sat there for a moment, eyes closed with his hands clutching them. He leaned over and felt that all too familiar, guttural emptiness. It didn’t take long before he turned sick.

“You’re going to clean that up,” Carmen appeared.

“To each according to his need?” Sam asked.

“No,” she laughed, sitting down next to him “You really can’t handle your alcohol.”

“I think you’re all just alcoholics,” he shot back, panting.

“Don’t take too long, we have a bus to catch,” Carmen said, patting Sam’s back and getting up.

“What?” Sam asked, but she was already gone. He looked at the sick beneath him and sighed heavily. “Where the fuck can I fund a sponge, or bucket?” he thought to himself. He got out of the bed, felt sick again, and plopped back down. “Let’s give it a go,” he hyped himself up, almost jumping to his feet determined to retake control of his body. This time, successful, he put on his shoes and coat.

“I can take care of that,” a man said – passing by “I wouldn’t want you to keep a girl like that waiting. Plus, Don Juan had come up earlier for you…I definitely wouldn’t want to keep a Queen like that waiting.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, clasping his hands together.

“Don’t thank me, comrade,” he said “just pay it forward when the time comes.”

Sam smiled and went downstairs. The bar was quite different during the day. While the walls of alcohol still stood high, the bars were covered in breakfast foods and people were coming in and out, grabbing what they could before finding some seat in the main hall. There, standing near the entrance was Carmen and Don Juan. Don Juan was wearing the same outfit he had on the night before and miraculously, his makeup was still flawless.

“Oh look,” Don Juan called to Sam “the pretty thing’s awake, how lovely. I imagine you couldn’t fancy yourself to a morning mimosa?”

“Same dress as yesterday?” Sam asked.

“Oh, she has claws,” Don Juan was genuinely surprised at the answer “Such hospitality with such little thanks. I’m not surprised by your kind’s lack of understanding but, my love, some outfits are simply too good to only wear once and this happens to be one of those.”

Sam smiled, looking at outside he saw the bus that Carmen spoke of.

“Oh good, we’re not late,” he said.

“Late?” Don Juan asked “You’re hardly late, or really early, barely even on time. The bus leaves when the bus leaves. Do the Solisians share the Occident’s fetishization of time? Why not just live?”

“I’m not from Solis,” Sam answered “I’m from Puerto Clave.”

“I’m sorry,” Don Juan dismissed Puerto Clave as a respectable place of origin.

“Are you ready to go?” Carmen asked, cutting off the conversation.

“Where are we going?” Sam answered.

“Mara,” Don Juan replied “The City of the Two Rivers, the City of Blossoms, the City of Love – it’s a marvelous little place. You’re looking for Xoel Oreiro. Good friend of mine, he’ll treat you well.”

“Ok, let’s go,” Sam said, pulling his bag onto his soldier “How much is the fare?”

“You’ll find a way to pay at some point, I’m sure,” Carmen answered, grabbing Sam’s hand.

“You know,” Sam turned to Don Juan “your accent, it really isn’t Tauritanian. Where are you from?”

“It doesn’t really matter where you’re from, Sammy,” Don Juan answered it “It only matters where you are.”