- TNP Nation
- Floresque
- Discord
- DivaythFyr
Samantha Walker had just been appointed the general secretary of the Party for Modernization in Novrith, and she was late to a meeting. It was a fifteen minute walk from the college to the meetinghouse on the corner of Saint Oramyn and 15th, a ten minute jog, and a seven minute sprint. The meeting was going to start, however, in three minutes. 5:00pm - and Domer never waited for stragglers.
Cars laid on their horns as she galloped through intersections in one-minute intervals. It seemed like the traffic was especially heavy today, which gave her plenty of opportunities to bolt into the street without getting hit. She watched the street signs carefully as she was still unfamiliar with the area - 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th! Two more blocks, heading uptown - Saint Rolis, then Saint Venîm, then Saint Oramyn. She could hear distant sirens. Traffic was at a near standstill now, allowing her to run even faster.
As passed Saint Rolis Street she could see that there were ambulances parked up the street. She cursed under her breath. Hopefully they didn't shut down the sidewalk. As she approached Saint Venîm she noticed there was a thick crowd on the street. She felt something in her stomach that she had not felt since she left the refugee camp in County Traval. Sam slowed her sprint to a light jog, trying to catch her breath. She slid through the crowd at first, but as she got closer to Saint Oramyn she had to nearly push her way through. The sidewalk was closed - and there were ambulances and police in front of the meetinghouse. Her heart sank.
-----
"I need to get in there!" she yelled at a police officer manning the barricade. He responded to her as if she was a child - it almost looked like he was about to smirk.
"This area of the street is closed."
Still catching her breath, she looked to the left and right. She saw a tall, older woman in traditional Myrorian dress crying into her hands. She looked up and met Samantha's gaze.
"Sam!"
"'Ésa!" It was Nathésa Moontrith. She showed up to every meeting with a plate of baked goods and to see her without any added to the bizarre scene. Samantha pushed her way through the crowd and embraced her. She smelled of brown sugar and arthritis cream.
"Oh, saints above! You are okay!"
"What's going on? What's happening?" Samantha asked, unable to catch her breath. She looked towards the meetinghouse as she let go of Nathésa and saw two detectives in blue latex gloves taking black rifle magazines with attached evidence tags to their car.
"We were about to start and, and, a group of men in black came in and began shooting!" Nathésa said between sobs. "Domer, they - they - they - "
Samantha saw paramedics carry a stretcher with a body bag on it down the stairs. She realized tears were streaming down her face.
"Sam, they asked us before they - they - they said, 'where is the Kianese professional mourner?'"
Samantha's heart sank even deeper in her chest than it was before.
"They said 'no refugee can be a mourner at Myrorian funerals.'"
Samantha grabbed Nathésa's hands. Normally she wouldn't sing a dirge without being paid for it, but something came over her. Samantha's thick accent disappeared when she sung in Myrorian. Together, in the midst of the crowd, the two women keened:
"Spirits and ancestors above,
watch over these departed souls.
Ease their transition.
Forgive their living transgressions.
Allow them to guide us.
Teach them how to run through the fertile fields beyond.
Watch over these departed souls,
spirits and ancestors above."
Six months later
Spring had turned to summer, which turned to fall. Orange and yellow leaves clung to trees outside Samantha's office in the meetinghouse of the Party for Modernization. Of the twelve members of the Party for Modernization who met that day in Novrith, she and Nathésa were the only survivors. By the end of August, there were 45 dues-paying members and 80 associates. Samantha fell into leadership as naturally as she could. For many in Myroria with a progressive mindset, she was a hero. To others she was a hated foreign interloper, probably under the employ of the McMasterdonian secret service.
The initial momentum from the attack allowed the Party to organize some successes. The mayor of Novrith, the largest city in Myroria, was going to be elected, rather than appointed, for the first time in the nation's history next year. There were rumors that soon foreigners would be allowed to visit Myrorian religious sites nationwide rather than in only the most liberal areas of the country. Samantha, for her part, felt these concessions mostly symbolic. Nationally, the average Myrorian still had little, if any, political power. Money and birth were what gained you access to the halls of power in the All-House Union.
To make matters worse, the police in Novrith had little inclination to investigate the attack on the party's meetinghouse in March. There were still no leads, let alone charges. Samantha felt increasingly sure, despite the assurances of the police chief, that this was a deliberate attempt to keep it out of the news and silence the movement. At the end of September, she resolved to draft a letter to sympathetic parties overseas who could put pressure on the government. The national leadership of the Party would strictly forbid this, so she didn't ask them.
Cars laid on their horns as she galloped through intersections in one-minute intervals. It seemed like the traffic was especially heavy today, which gave her plenty of opportunities to bolt into the street without getting hit. She watched the street signs carefully as she was still unfamiliar with the area - 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th! Two more blocks, heading uptown - Saint Rolis, then Saint Venîm, then Saint Oramyn. She could hear distant sirens. Traffic was at a near standstill now, allowing her to run even faster.
As passed Saint Rolis Street she could see that there were ambulances parked up the street. She cursed under her breath. Hopefully they didn't shut down the sidewalk. As she approached Saint Venîm she noticed there was a thick crowd on the street. She felt something in her stomach that she had not felt since she left the refugee camp in County Traval. Sam slowed her sprint to a light jog, trying to catch her breath. She slid through the crowd at first, but as she got closer to Saint Oramyn she had to nearly push her way through. The sidewalk was closed - and there were ambulances and police in front of the meetinghouse. Her heart sank.
-----
"I need to get in there!" she yelled at a police officer manning the barricade. He responded to her as if she was a child - it almost looked like he was about to smirk.
"This area of the street is closed."
Still catching her breath, she looked to the left and right. She saw a tall, older woman in traditional Myrorian dress crying into her hands. She looked up and met Samantha's gaze.
"Sam!"
"'Ésa!" It was Nathésa Moontrith. She showed up to every meeting with a plate of baked goods and to see her without any added to the bizarre scene. Samantha pushed her way through the crowd and embraced her. She smelled of brown sugar and arthritis cream.
"Oh, saints above! You are okay!"
"What's going on? What's happening?" Samantha asked, unable to catch her breath. She looked towards the meetinghouse as she let go of Nathésa and saw two detectives in blue latex gloves taking black rifle magazines with attached evidence tags to their car.
"We were about to start and, and, a group of men in black came in and began shooting!" Nathésa said between sobs. "Domer, they - they - they - "
Samantha saw paramedics carry a stretcher with a body bag on it down the stairs. She realized tears were streaming down her face.
"Sam, they asked us before they - they - they said, 'where is the Kianese professional mourner?'"
Samantha's heart sank even deeper in her chest than it was before.
"They said 'no refugee can be a mourner at Myrorian funerals.'"
Samantha grabbed Nathésa's hands. Normally she wouldn't sing a dirge without being paid for it, but something came over her. Samantha's thick accent disappeared when she sung in Myrorian. Together, in the midst of the crowd, the two women keened:
"Spirits and ancestors above,
watch over these departed souls.
Ease their transition.
Forgive their living transgressions.
Allow them to guide us.
Teach them how to run through the fertile fields beyond.
Watch over these departed souls,
spirits and ancestors above."
Six months later
Spring had turned to summer, which turned to fall. Orange and yellow leaves clung to trees outside Samantha's office in the meetinghouse of the Party for Modernization. Of the twelve members of the Party for Modernization who met that day in Novrith, she and Nathésa were the only survivors. By the end of August, there were 45 dues-paying members and 80 associates. Samantha fell into leadership as naturally as she could. For many in Myroria with a progressive mindset, she was a hero. To others she was a hated foreign interloper, probably under the employ of the McMasterdonian secret service.
The initial momentum from the attack allowed the Party to organize some successes. The mayor of Novrith, the largest city in Myroria, was going to be elected, rather than appointed, for the first time in the nation's history next year. There were rumors that soon foreigners would be allowed to visit Myrorian religious sites nationwide rather than in only the most liberal areas of the country. Samantha, for her part, felt these concessions mostly symbolic. Nationally, the average Myrorian still had little, if any, political power. Money and birth were what gained you access to the halls of power in the All-House Union.
To make matters worse, the police in Novrith had little inclination to investigate the attack on the party's meetinghouse in March. There were still no leads, let alone charges. Samantha felt increasingly sure, despite the assurances of the police chief, that this was a deliberate attempt to keep it out of the news and silence the movement. At the end of September, she resolved to draft a letter to sympathetic parties overseas who could put pressure on the government. The national leadership of the Party would strictly forbid this, so she didn't ask them.
