The Gleam of History

[Cúlanor]

The Past Night



The Zena manor was right at the edge of the Heliate district, at the southern-most corner. Despite its close proximity to the Perioikoi part of the city, the Zena manor was one of the more popular sites for Heliates to socialize.

The Zena’s were a particularly powerful family, the manor a tribute to this. Built by old Alexei Zena with his own sweat and muscle, it was a shining example of the beauty of true Heliate architecture. The structure being built entirely of marble and stone, it occupied nearly an entire stadion of land. It was this house that old Alexei started his family. His wife, Maria Zena, bore him two children; a son, whom he named Cyril, and a daughter whom died in stillbirth.

Cyril Zena was neither raised in a life of hardship nor of wealth. Like all Heliates, Cyril was enrolled into the Helian Military Academy to learn the art of war and receive an education. After graduating, he was conscripted into the Officer Corps, and for several years harshly drilled and trained the infantry and motorized cavalry.

Now the current master of the house, Cyril is a man of sturdy build. His aging features began to become more noticeable and lines were beginning to materialize on his large, swarthy hands and stony face. Even so, his body retained the firmness and muscular physique usually accompanied with youth. Despite his hard features his eyes were soft, glittering, retaining humanity, having yet to be spoiled by war. The greyish-blue orbs did not penetrate through you as one would expect from his grizzled appearance, but gazed almost lazily over you.

There was a gathering at the Zena manor this evening. Many prominent Heliates had gathered to drink and discuss the latest gossip and happenings in the city.

“Ah! Brigadier General!” a youthful man called for him. Cyril shifted his gaze to a short, fair Heliate approaching him. “How goes your evening?” He took his hand in greeting. “Good. Very good.” Cyril replied, pulling his hand back. The man was incredibly young and handsome. The insignia of a captain was emblazoned on the shoulder of his tunic. The young man had obviously graduated from the military academy not too long ago, and was not very experienced. At least not by his standards… “Did you hear? There’s talk of a war overseas.” He said enthusiastically.

“Yes I have.” Indeed, there was much talk recently of armed conflict between the great nations on the other side of the world. “I certainly hope His Majesty Archon Protosidis keeps our people’s involvement within the confines of our own nation and continent.” He added, in answer to the young officer’s unspoken inquiry.

There was much talk recently over the imminent conflict between the nations of Oikawa and Kyiv following the coup in February. It was almost certain that Helia would have no part in such a war. Archon Protosidis I had kept alive the age-old tradition of keeping Helia out of the conflicts of foreign countries, especially when they aren’t on the same continent.

The young officer seemed disappointed at this. “But don’t you think it’s time for Helia to show the world who its true masters are?” he said questionably.

“And allow the communists to wriggle into our people? Bah!" An older man of higher rank, a colonel approached. Cyril knew this man well and had graduated with him at the academy.

“Ah Vassilis!” Cyril called to him. The old man seemed to have just noticed Cyril and a look of surprise swept his face.

“Cyril my brother, how are you?” His surprise faded into a smile. “I hope service hasn’t been too hard on you.” He chuckled mockingly.

“Of course not! Do you take me for a Perioikoi dear Vassilis!” he roared angrily. Vassilis chuckled once more.

“Ah Colonel Vassilis, how are you?” the young captain asked.

“Fine fine.” Vassilis replied with a wave of his hand, paying the officer little attention. The captain was flustered at this and stomped off.

“The youth today, they are eager to fight and make a name for themselves. Fools the lot of them!” Cyril remarked gesturing towards the Captain. “They don’t understand that going off and starting wars will make us more enemies than we may handle!”

Vassili nodded. “Tell me Cyril, have you found yourself a wife yet?”

“Have I!” Cyril scoffed, “my wife be the most striking in that group of girls there.” He directed Vassili’s gaze to a group of women down the hall.

“Eleni?” his eyes widened. “Ah you’ve found quite a wife there!” he remarked.

“Bah!” he scoffed, but he smiled proudly. “But tell me, what do you think of the war the youth seems so excited about?”

“I think it’s best if we stayed in our own borders. It’s difficult enough with the communists spreading their propaganda among the Perioikoi, creating agitation among the people.” He said bitterly. “Why, we’ll be dealing with a full blown revolt soon!”

“Yes. The Archon surely knows this and is taking measures against it. He knows we can’t handle a war, let alone one overseas.” Cyril said in agreement.

The two seasoned officers continued their conversation awhile and then, with goodbyes parted. As Cyril relaxed in his bed that night with his wife, the Heliate was not prepared for what would happen in the coming months.

 

[Cúlanor]

As war erupted in the continents overseas, the Helians watched with suspicion. Archon Protosidis announced that Helia would not under any circumstances become involved in the war. Heliates across the country, like Cyril Zena, agreed and wished to stay out of the war. And for a while, it seemed that Helia would succeed in remaining politically stable and conflict-free.

Cyril continued through his usual routine. For him, the war overseas was a wonderful testing ground for many doctrines of war that would have otherwise come at the cost of Helian lives. Cyril was a proud Helian, staunchly proud of both his family house and his nation, and a fervent supporter of the Archon. House Zena, one of the many Heliate royal houses that made up the Heliate caste, enjoyed the many luxuries in life that few others in the country could say they did.

Today, he was in his office filling out paperwork. Although he loved his job, he detested paper work. He much preferred to be outside drilling the troops directly, shaping them into the ruthless killers every Helian was trained to be and making them a worthy part in the Helian war machine. Every soldier outside his window was a man and woman taught from a young age to fight for the glory of their family, country, and the glory of the Archon.

Hurried footsteps and a swift KNOCK drew his attention to the door.

“Come in.” he called.

The door opened and a small man entered. He must have been in a hurry, he was panting very heavily.

“Brigadier General Zena, your urgently needed at military command!” he wheezed.

Cyril looked up from his paperwork at the messenger. His brown tunic was undecorated and the insignia of a low ranking foot-soldier was sewn onto his shoulder.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked, his bored voice lacking any indication of alarm or concern.

“Sir, there’s been a revolt! The top brass has requested your presence to deal with the situation…”

Cyril jumped up from his seat, nearly capsizing his desk. “WHAT?!” he bellowed at the messenger. The messenger quickly retreated out of the room and down the hall, fearful of what the officer might have done to him. A revolt! There hasn’t been a revolt in Helia in decades!

He drove to military command in a mad rush, and threw open the doors to the military committee room. Before the words could escape his throat, the Marshal quickly cut him off.

“Zena I don’t want to hear a word! Sit down and shut the hell up, all will be explained in due time.”

Cyril sat down; he wasn’t surprised that the Marshal of the Helian Armed Forces was present. A few other officers arrived before they finally began the meeting and Cyril had taken up discussion with a nearby Brigadier General.

“A revolt? This is horrible! I can only guess the communists are behind this!” Cyril nodded in agreement.

“No doubt, these communists must be eliminated. We can’t have their filth tainting our great traditions."

Finally the Marshal called to order the room. The hushed whispers of alarm between the generals withered away as the marshals booming voice filled the room.

“Gentlemen I’m sure you’re wondering why you have been called here on such little notice. I’m sure you have all heard rumors…” The marshal was referring to the rumors of revolt. However, he was the only one at the moment aware of the size, scope, and danger of the situation at hand.

“You see gentlemen, revolts among the lower classes…” the marshal stammered. “ Perioikoi have revolted in several major cities across the nation…” ‘Fuck’ someone audibly muttered. “ it is almost unmistakable that socialist agitators are behind this.” He finished, throwing formality to the wind.

The room burst into whispers and discussion. Someone hollered out, “How large are these revolts exactly?”

“We have estimated a force of approximately 2,000…”

“2,000?!”

The room was awash in excitement and agitation.

“2,000? In all of Helia correct…?” someone finally asked. The room was once more silent.

“I wish it were so…” the marshal admitted. “But that’s just here in Priana alone, we’ve received reports of similar numbers in Argusa and Elanus.”

“By the gods…” Cyril muttered.

The marshal raised his hands to silence the generals. “We have a plan however. In order to keep the war in the East out of our borders, the Archon has ordered all communication with the outside cut-off. No news of this revolt is to cross out of our borders and all foreign journalists are to be conscripted immediately. We have been authorized to shoot those who refuse.”

Cyril and the other generals nodded in silent agreement. Although extreme, no action will be taken by foreign nations, not while already at war.

After the committee was dismissed, the generals moved out of the building. They were to mobilize the troops and quell the uprising swiftly and without mercy.

 

[Cúlanor]

Traces of a Great War



In the early months of the 20th century, war had begun to materialize in the East. Not just any war, but a new kind of war. An industrialized war, a war where death-dealing devices were mass-produced cheaply, a war where the art of killing has become an industry. But not only this, but the war was a war of ideology. Entire populations were mobilized to fight, to kill, to die for an idea.

Although at first this war began in the East, it soon spread throughout the entire globe, reaching as far as the nations of Helia and Freiheit. At first, Heliates and Perioikoi alike didn't feel the sting of the ideologically driven conflict. However it was not long until agitators, propagandists, and revolutionaries from foreign nations infiltrated Helian Society and the Heliates had found socialism had invaded their home.

The effect was near instantaneous, and radicals began to appear everywhere amongst those in the Perioikoi caste like small pox. The radicals organized and rallied millions behind their cause. The on switch was flipped and within a week an armed uprising appeared in in the capital and spread to every major city in the country.

The uprising that had erupted in Priana was just one of many across the globe. Despite the best efforts of the Helian government, communistic influences had infiltrated Helian society and challenged the very way of life in the nation. Helian culture which had reigned unchallenged, undetured for centuries, even a millenia were swept up by radical alternatives.

Polytheism saw the rise of Atheism and the gods worshipped for so long were threatened, their names thrown to the dust in protest. The sprawling aristocracy which had governed the people in the name of those same gods were defied by the governed in the name of equality. Helian society was threatening to tear apart at the seems, just as countries on continents far away were.

The Heliates had faithfully ruled the nation since its founding. 100 great houses rule at Helia's helm, each house a sprawling royal family. Unlike most societies where the family name is passed down by the paternal side, father to son, in Helia the family name is passed down from mother to daughter. However in the case of a Heliate house, regardless of gender, the name of a Heliate family or house always prevails over that of a Perioikoi.

These houses compete to provide a heir should the Archon die and leave no direct family descendant as a heir. These houses collectively serve as an advisory committee in the Apella council for the Archon.

But as the Perioikoi, anyone not connected by marriage or blood to a Heliate House, revolted Helian society was threatened. Archon Protosidis immediately closed down all communication with the outside world to keep the nation out of the war. The revolt was short, but brutal and the revolutionaries and those believed to be aiding them slaughtered mercilessly.

So fell communism in Helia, the revolutionaries abandoning the campaign just as it had begun, themselves convinced that they had declared war on the gods and already defeated.

But the revolt did have a lasting effect on the population. The utter precision and effectiveness of the Heliates response and the speed at which the disease that had brought downfall of many nations had been eliminated had managed to convince Helians. It convinced them that Helian society was the way, it was the answer. It had lasted for nearly a millennium and resisted the most powerful force in the world: an idea.

Perioikoi were so convinced by this defeat that they began to believe that Helia was truly protected by the gods, and the Heliates the people of those gods. The Heliates were only further convinced of their own divine superiority not only towards Perioikoi, but to all non-Heliates in the world. Helian society was indeed affected by the Great War, and there was no sign that these traces would ever disappear.