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On the Tardineanni Fascist Period and its reflections on present day Tardine​

Juka Pterovisk Barnou1, 2014​
1. Introduction

This article will unveil international politics during the years before the Aurorian Fascist War, the war itself and the impending outcome. It involved many Aurorian nations, and started in 1939 (officially in 1941, after Tardine's declaration of war to Hexastalia and a failed attempt to invade their capital, Varos, a former Tardineanni Librepuerto).

What were the reasons of behind the war? What would Tardine gain invading its surrounding nations? While some would argue that the main reason behind it was the late Emperor Pofred Risvie's coup of 19392, or that it started with late Empress Mirko's death3, the truth is that these views are heavily outdated. The adepts of the so-called Revisionism4 believe that the fascism is as old as the third empire itself. Of course, saying that the fascism dates as old as 193 years may be considered an absurd to some, however, their argument is actually plausible.

It would make sense, if it wasn't for a compelling argument: the fascism itself was not a thing until the new century. What does that mean? It means arguing that the fascism rise in Tardine was caused by an event that took place in the early 1800s is, to say at least, nonsensical. Its origin is rather palpable, as a matter of fact, and has a specific set of causes, instead of a single cause. While the 1800s set the tone, the early 1900s set the place.

After the industrialization process initiated during the first half Kaiash's reign, when she was still a Regent, the country rapidly became urbanized, leading to a fast development that was not equal to everyone. However, until Kaiash's death, in 1913, the economic growth was in par with the most developed nations of Eras. This conjuncture made the worker's worries be in second place, as the nation as a whole was becoming stronger. During Markonet's reign, though, poor decisions and two incompetent Prime Ministers (the first, a leftist, the second, a puppet from the Fascist Union) made the economic growth slow down until it became stagnant.

During the 1920s, this stalemate became more evident, which ultimately led to the election of Diona Danfeh (ULTRA) as Prime Minister, in 1923. This, associated with Markonet's death in the same year, generated the political turmoil needed for the ultimate rise of fascism. The Ultranacionalists and the Fascist Union seized their opportunity and started bombing the less educated citizens with fascist propaganda. While in some nations the workers' insatisfaction led to a socialist revolution, similar to what happened in Rayvototska, it actually led to the infiltration of fascism in the minds of the Tardineannen.

The principal exponent of the Tardineanni Fascism wasn't Diona Danfeh, though, as she died in 1927. Instead, another two figures would compete to occupy her place. Margret Hatchet (from ULTRA, Prime Minister in Diona Danfeh's place until the Elections of 27') and Varet Paulis (from the Fascist Union, elected Prime Minister in 1927). In the end of the decade, another person would show itself as opposing figure to the Kladerai's Complacence (a term used by the fascists pejoratively): none other than Pofred Risvie, cousin of Niena Taderkhai (who would later become empress).

After the attempted coup of 1937, in which the current Emperor died, Niena Taderkhai assumed the throne. She was young and her lack of experience was another propeller to the fascists. Taking advantage of his position as the royal cousin, Pofred Risvie slaughtered the Empress and seized the throne, in May 27th of 1939.

The Tardineanni Fascist Period had begun, and it wouldn't go away soon.

1PhD in National Politics by the Imperial University of Olmongeter, Graduate in Political Science by the San Martinese Academy, Professor at the University of Kinbafa.
2ARAGON et al. Why the Risvian Coup of 39' was the pivot of a continental war. The Martinese Journal of Politics, 8th edition, p. 33-37. San Martin, 1977.
3BRUNNEN, Lisha. On the origins of the Tardineanni fascism. Journal of Political Analysis, 70th edition, p. 101-119. Olmongeter, 1991.
4Revisionism is a branch of National Politics that believe the origins of any policy, be it modern or ancient, has a specific cause rather than being constructed by the conjuncture.
 
Conference Room of the Imperial Palace,
City of Olmongeter
The Greater Tardineanni Empire

January 3rd, 1941



Pofred Risvie leaned back in his chair as he took a sip of coffee. He wasn't much of a coffee lover, as he thought it would make him stay awake at night. Not that he cared about another sleepless night now. Pofred couldn't get a good night of sleep ever since that night. The fateful day on which he became the Tardineanni Emperor, and the sole ruler of the Tardineanni lands. All that at the life expense of none other than his own cousin, Niena. Unfortunately, her life was a much needed price to pay for freedom. Freedom from Kladerai's Complacence. Freedom to rule as they wished. Freedom to make Tardine a better place to live for all.

Today they would make history. Again, as they already made history with the successful coup of 39'. After all, it was finally time to sprint into action. To reconquer their rightful land. "Mell nadt unsere onen Empera, after all.", thought Pofred as he set his mug down on the table. The Tardineanni Army would start its invasion with Faursia, a strategic Aubervijiran province located bordering the Ethian Sea and Weskermere. From there, they would start their expansion towards the dream extent: all Aurorias united under the same ruler, himself. He didn't want to waste any more time, so he finally gave the order to his soldiers:

"Time to make our move. Let's secure Faursia for ourselves!"

Royal Bedroom of the Imperial Palace,
City of Olmongeter
The Greater Tardineanni Empire

May 25th, 1939

Niena was lying in her bed with her 1-year-old son, Hermani, when her cousin arrived. He did not knock on the door, something she found very strange. After all, he had been very vocal about his political preferences and an activist of the "Fascist Dream". Despite him being family, Pofred should follow the codes and principles. Especially because she was trying to make her boy sleep. If she knew beforehand that being a mother would be this tiring, she'd never had a child. That was what she kept trying to tell herself, however, every time she looked at Hermani's cute face all her worries and fears would go away. If only those damn fascists would leave her alone...

"Ahem." Pofred Risvie tried to get Niena's attention, as she was seemingly lost in her thoughts. She put Hermani to rest in the bed and said, with a dry tone: "Didn't my aunt teach you to knock doors before entering someone else's room?"

"I'm sorry it had to be this way." he does not meet his cousin's eyes. "What are you talking about? The hell is wrong with you-", she pauses dead cold as Pofred points a gun towards her.

"It doesn't need to end like this, Po-", he cuts her mid sentence. "Shut up. Please. Don't make it harder than it already is for me."

"Then why kill me? I have a KID, you know?", she says, pointing towards the sleepy toddler in the bed. "I know, Ni. Trust me, I know."

"I could always sign a resignation letter, or whatever-", her phrase is cut off with a loud BANG!

"No you, couldn't.", he looks tenderly at the kid who has started crying by now, splattered with his own mom's blood. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, my dear poor Hermani. What is done is done."

He left the room, knowing that he should have killed Hermani, the only other person in the palace who could defy him in the future. However, he couldn't bear the thought of doing so. Being a General has taught him how to coldly murders someone but he'd never be prepared to kill a small child. He hoped that the little boy wouldn't become a nuisance in the future. Little did he know that Hermani would be the Tardineanni beacon of hope in the future.

However, this was not the most pressing matter at hand. After all, he still needed to have the Parliament's support otherwise what he did today would be worth nothing. So he got started.​
 
Drydocks of the Imperator
Suavidicum
Imperium Suavidici
May 30th,1939

The Imperator and his Consuls stood watching the launching of the new flagship of the Imperium, the Caesar Augustus. She would be able to disrupt anyone who would challenge the Imperium on the waves, when a Colonel ran into the room. The Imperium had been watching the rise of this new ideology, fascism. The western continents had been falling victim to it, and as it would seem, the continent of Auroria would fall victim to this new form of government. News had reached the Imperium over the last few days that a coup had happened in Tardine. The southern continents would soon be embroiled in a war that would rock the whole of Auroria. The Imperator looked to his heads of government with an exasperated look.

"What is the best course of action gentlemen?"

"My lord, I think that our best course would be to let the southerners fight and kill each other. They are barbarians they are no threat to our great Empire." Lucius responded looking at the new ship.

"Who could challenge ships like this? Its guns are among the largest in the world, its armor is like the walls that once ringed our holy cities. Tardine has not been a threat for over one hundred years. The Palmyrans need to be taught a lesson. Let us focus our efforts on rebuilding our empire, not worrying about the upstarts down south. Our new ships will bring us to victory."

The Imperator thought about what his Consul was saying, the Imperium was moving into the modern era at a rapid pace. The other nations of Auroria had taken to the industrialization of the world too, the world changed at such a pace that the old world orders shook and crumbled. The Imperium was once the supposed center of the world, the throne of the Imperator even had a map of Auroria as the whole of the world cast in Gold behind it. What was once a vast and unknown world had become both larger and yet smaller, hell not even thirty years ago the first flights took place in Auroria. The Imperator was a boy when planes were invented, and the world had changed so much since then. The Imperium needed to change, and it was finally time to meet the world head on.

"My lord, if I may." Brutus said.

Brutus usually differed to his older partner, but in this time of change a young voice is needed.

"My lord, I think that it would only be appropriate to reach out to the former colonies of Tardine and ask what they would need from the Imperium. If the southern empire is truly on a revanchist path then we need to nip it in the bud, they can not be allowed to march all the way to Ethuirsiua. It is time for the Imperium to reassert itself onto the worlds stage."

The Imperator was taken aback, rarely in the course of human history can one single decision make such an impact on the prospects and lives of millions. The Imperator didn't know why he felt fear, was it the shame that his empire had been facing over the last century? Was it the lessons in school about the Predicians, the Andrennians, and the Syrixians? The Imperator thought for a moment, here he could be the one that reverses this spiral. Then as quickly as the thought came it escaped his mouth, in the last Forty years he felt that his life and the course of the Imperium itself was awaiting this moment.

"Call the Senate, we have work to do." Imperator Constantine X had made a decision that would led the Imperium to clash swords with one of the other Empires of Auroria.

The consuls moved quickly, after the plebian revolution of 1874 the Imperium was forced to allow the senate to become an elected body by all male citizens. Plebs had been allowed to serve in the senate when it was little more than an appointed rubber stamp for the Imperator. Now the Imperium had an elected body, and the citizens of this new body wanted to make sure that the tide of Fascism did not overtake the Imperium. The drive to the senate house was quick, yet there were supporters of this new democratic Imperium all over. They held signs saying "DEUS qum Imperator!" and "Descendit cum Fascismo!". All over the world there were Fascist regimes sprouting up, their warmongering stances were a direct challenge to the world order. That last thought gave Constantine a moment of reflection.

Blessed be to holy Regina, fascists could take advantage of the anger of the nation.

The car came to a stop, and the door was opened. In came the roar of the crowd as the people cheered on their Imperator. The Imperator waved as he looked to his adoring masses, the consuls got out of the car after him the trio began the long walk through the Plazzo de Senatus to the Capitolium. Statues of once great senators, generals and Consuls lined the edges in the center of this marble sea stood the great Nymphaum a deeply religious place where it is said the first Kylian building originally lay. The consuls caught up to the Imperator and asked if he ever got used to the crowds.

"You learn to ignore them, I am their Imperator it is only natural they worship me. It makes me sick that creatures as unlearned as they have any say in the government. It is a shame my father was forced to give them the vote. I'd take it away if I didn't think the legions might turn on me."

"I agree your Imperial majesty, the poor have no place to tell us how to run a government. Us Patricians are from a noble stock, bred to do these jobs. What knowledge does a cobbler have on tax policy." Lucius said.


This dig on the current head of the opposition made the Imperator and Brutus laugh. Even though stressful times were on the horizon there was a need to keep up spirits, if war was coming then it would mean defeat to sacrifice joy.

The Senate Chambers

The doors to the Senate were thrown open as trumpets rang out to the arrival of the Imperator. The usually rambunctious Senate was quiet, they too had been briefed on the recent coup in Tardine. The Empress had been shot like a dog, her cousin had taken the throne and now started giving speeches about the reconquest of lost territories which was upsetting the senates arrogant attitude. The Senators sat as the Imperator and consuls got to their chairs, the chambers remained quiet as the Imperator began to speak.

"The Imperium faces a new age. This age is not one where ancient titles and claims make right, rather the economic and societal advancements. Our once great Imperium has faced over one hundred years of humiliation on by the western powers, yet now we face a threat from the westerners ideology. The dogs of Fascism have claimed a once great Empire, a cultural center of our great continent has fallen and needs to be returned back to its former progressive path. Tardine has moved to try and regain its former territories, the Imperium must work to prevent these violent ideas from plunging the continent father into chaos. This is why I am suggesting that funding be diverted to the military to prepare for the oncoming carnage and all former Tardine territories be given the option of Suavidici protection."

The senators looked shocked, for their lives, and the lives of their father and their grandfathers the Imperium had been retracting in territory. The once great Empire of Auroria, the supposed center of the universe was reduced to its absolute core and there was little that could be done about it. This moment awoke something in them all of the senators, they stood after a moment and cheered out in unison. The Senate erupted in cheers as the Imperator walked out of the senate chambers. The consuls would oversee the vote and the Imperator would prepare the military for the upcoming conflicts."

The Generals and Admirals were waiting in the Imperial throne room. The plans for what is to come needed to be made.
 
A Cabin in The Woods
Somewhere in eastern Afolyovege province
Kingdom of Hexastalia
January 3rd, 1941


Queen Petra of Hexastalia was startled awake by a pounding at her door. She glanced around and finally rose from the rocking chair she had been reclining in. She stretched and walked over to the large front door. Opening it, she found the culprit of the knocking: Janos Gal, her Advisor on Foreign Affairs. “Oh, Jani. What are you doing here?”

The haggard man replied, “Ma’am, we need to talk. May I come in?”

“Of course! Come in, come in.” She closed the door behind him and walked back to the rocking chair. Gal collapsed on the couch and ran a hand through his graying hair. “Do you need anything before I sit down? Tea?”

“Your Majesty-”

“Petra” The queen corrected him

“What?”

“Just Petra. I’m trying to vacation, you know, Jani.” She sat down in the rocking chair. “Now, what did you come to tell me?”

“Tardine. They’re invading Faursia. Just like they have been saying they would. Just like the Imperium said they would.”

The blood in Petra’s veins turned to ice and she scowled. “The bastards. Embargo them. Tell Admiral Bakó to get the ships out and patrolling the Weskermere. I want a speech against this wanton imperialism on my desk by tomorrow morning.” She rose from her chair once again, “I’ll start packing. I’ll be back in the palace by dinner.”

“Are you sure? We can’t be rash in this, ma’am.”

Petra met Gal’s eyes, “Jani, we don’t negotiate with fascists. Faursia is just the beginning. Mark my words, they won’t stop there.”

Royal Briefing Room
City of Varos
Kingdom of Hexastalia
May 31st, 1939


Petra glanced at her husband. The formerly great general, Krisztopher Venczel, now King of Hexastalia, was sitting in grim silence as he listened to the briefing by the foreign affairs team. She looked back at the man presenting, a newly elected minister by the name of Janos Gal as he explained the offer from the Imperium.

Less than a week ago, Tardine had undergone a fascist coup. Petra racked her brain trying to remember the last time she had met with Empress Niena, trying to find a way to remember her. It had to have been years ago. She hardly knew her. But she certainly knew the man who was now in control of the country now. A fascist, on Auroria. She would’ve barely entertained that idea a few weeks ago. But it wasn’t an idea anymore, it was a fact.

And now to top it all off, the Imperium was offering her country protection from Tardineanni aggression. A country which she held in no particularly high regard. A country which always seemed to be living years in the past instead of the present. A new rivalry between the Imperium of old and the new Fascist Tardine was brewing, and she had been invited to take a side. She reached for her glass of spruce tea and took a long sip from it.

“Your Majesty, what should our response to the Imperium be?” Gal asked her, his brow furrowed, “If Tardine truly does go on a crusade against Auroria, it may be wise to accept their help.”

Petra nodded slowly, “It may. But I am not comfortable becoming some glorified landing strip for the Imperium’s air force.” She thought for a long second. “We need guns, and tanks, and planes and ships. We need a lot of things to keep us safe. The way I see it, the Imperium is offering to help us with that. Cooperation with them would almost certainly help our situation, for now at least. But I don’t want any legions camping in my backyard. Tell them that, Minister Gal. We’ll cooperate, but we’re not going to let them just walk legions into our land and squat in our forests.”

King Krisztopher spoke now, “The Imperium can definitely help us fill some of the gaps in our capabilities for now. We’ll need to fill them ourselves eventually, but this will work in the meantime. As much as I don’t trust them, I trust the mongrel fascists even less. I agree with my wife.”

Minister Gal nodded, “We can draft a letter today, and deliver it to them by tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how this new arrangement plays out.”

“As are we all, Minister Gal.” Petra responded.
 
Imperial Palace,
City of Olmongeter
The Greater Tardineanni Empire

August 27th, 1941



It was time to retreat. The war in Faursia had been way too costly for the Tardineanni army. However, the Council didn't want to stop there. Pofred had long lost his veto power, as the Council gained power to overrule all of his decisions.

In June, he told them the best strategy was to retreat before launching new attacks. Now they would be forced to accept defeat, at least temporarily, and flee away like losers. "Damn the Council. They will lead us all to death", was the thought that crossed Pofred's mind as he walked away from the Conference Room.

With a sigh, he decided to pay a visit to his cousin, the toddler Hermani Kladerai. He was being kept in the Palace, educated by one of the best Tardineanni minds, Vanessa Matos, who was also a fascist philosopher and a future member of the Council. When he arrived at the room he got surprised by the scene he saw.

"The hell are you doing?" She was beating the 3-year-old to a pup. "He's just a damn kid, stop it."

"The boy won't obey me." She let him go, and stood up to talk with the Emperor. "Do you think it's easy to take care of a rebel kid?"

"He's the royal heir, mind yourself!" Pofred shouted at her.

"You ARE the damn Emperor. You ARE the one who killed his mother. And I am the one who's supposed to take care of this kid." She calmed down after a moment and kept talking. "Listen, I'd like you to let me do my job. These techniques are well known and they are made up by the best minds ever. This boy will grow up as fierce ruler, so that when you die or get too tired to rule, he'll take your place as the supreme leader of Tardine."

"I see", Pofred backed down and almost apologized but then he remembered who he was. "Never raise your voice to me again."

"Yes, Your Greatness." She picked the boy and made him sit down. "I do want the best for our nation. One day, perhaps, we'll be at the top of the world, with you as the Supreme Leader."

"If only the Council would let me", he mumbled under his breath so that she wouldn't her him.

"Did you say something?" He waved his head signaling no. "Well then, I'll let you visit the boy. See you soon, Your Greatness."

Vanessa left Pofred and Hermani alone in the room. As soon as she closed the door, though, Pofred fell to his knees and cried silently. The burden of rule was getting the best of him.​
 
Varos Dockyards
Varos, Hexastalia
June 3rd, 1940


The naval standard of the Imperium Suavidici fluttered in the early morning wind. Petra watched as the enormous steel beast lumbered its way into port. The new additions to the dockyards over the last months, built with Suavidici investment, certainly lacked all by the barest essentials. It was little more than a concrete berthing structure that could handle a battleship.

And it would certainly handle a battleship. The Consul Marius was its inaugural occupant. Petra almost smiled at the name of the massive war machine. The boat shared a name with her grandfather. She wondered how the first Hexastalian Marius had received his name, it was a Sauvidici one after all.

But this ceremony was no smiling matter so she maintained her calm and focused composure. The foreign battleship dwarfed the local ships in the harbor. It dwarfed Hexastalia’s own battleship Varos. Petra was quite sure that it was the largest warship she had ever seen.

The Imperium had invested significant resources into her country. The loans and support were almost mind boggling, she wasn’t quite sure how she would ever be able to repay them, but the Imperium had assured her they wouldn’t need to receive any form of payment until after Tardine had been dealt with. And who was she to argue when their money was funding her infrastructure projects. But that did little to ease the distinct feeling that she was bargaining with a devil.

“It’s quite the sight, you know.” King Krisztopher said to his wife. It wasn’t much of a question, just a statement. He sounded tired.

“It is.” Petra nodded. “How is your work going? Is the army well?”

“Yes. The Imperium is bankrolling us now, we can do much more than we ever could before. The raising of the new divisions is on track and the Imperium’s hand-me-downs certainly have helped. Yet, I’ve gotten no rest in the past fortnight from stress.”

“The stress is getting to me as well. The fascists are getting more tenacious around the straits. But now the Imperium is here, and that will be enough. Hopefully.”

“Indeed.” Krisztopher nodded, “Now let’s go make a speech to some Sauvidici sailors who just want to get into town and get drunk and laid.”

“Hear, Hear.”

Hatalmas Training Grounds
Keletipart County, Hexastalia
June 3rd, 1940


Lieutenant Colonel Bence brought up his Model 1903 revolver. He centered it on the black shape silhouetted against the morning sky fifty yards ahead of him. He steadied his breathing and squeezed the trigger. A metallic ding echoed through the air as his slug hit the black steel. He recentered his revolver and squeezed again. Another ding.

“You know you’re supposed to squeeze the trigger, not yank it like that, your Highness?” A voice said from behind Bence.

Prince Bence, heir to the Hexastalian throne turned around, “Yes, Commandant Lakatos, I am well aware. I’m just a bit stressed is all.” He grinned at one of his oldest friends in the Army. Lakatos was the prince’s most trusted officer, and his chosen executive officer for his battalion. He changed the subject quickly, “Is the battalion ready to go out to the field?”

Lakatos chuckled, “It is not yet a half hour since the sun has risen. Do you think they would be ready at this hour, your Royal Highness?”

“No, but we must train them to work as soon as the sun rises and earlier. Fascists do not wait for the sun to rise to engage in battle.”

Lakatos nodded, “Yes, of course. Shall I go to rouse the battalion?”

“Yes, tell them we will march in an hour. I have some drills we will run once we get out among the fields. It will be good for them to get some proper training again.” Bence said before taking a swig from his canteen.

“Indeed, we’ve spent too much time in the garrison.” He reached into his coat pocket and set a handful of .38 special rounds on the table. “A bit of shooting in the morning never hurt anybody. We’ll be waiting for you when you return, sir.”

“God bless you, Commandant. I’ll be down soon enough.” He turned and brought his revolver back up to the target. Ding.
 
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Imperial Palace,
City of Olmongeter
The Greater Tardineanni Empire

November 10th, 1941


Pofred Risvie did what he could, he kept the Tardineanni troops at bay for as long as possible. If the Council had their way, they would've already attacked all of the Aurorian countries as of now. However, he knew the Council wouldn't stop if he asked to. They were pushing for a new invasion since the Faursian retreat, back in August. Now, the new target would be Hexastalia. He advised that trying to invade their capital would be a dumb move, that they should start with the eastern most bit. The Council simply ignored his words and, ultimately, expelled him from the Conference Room.

"Those dumbasses are really going to wage war with no real strategy." He thought to himself as he left the room, feeling a sharp pain in his head. The headaches were frequent now that he was constantly worrying about everyone and everything at once. His wife was waiting for him at the door to his chamber. She was looking excited, then worried at him when she saw the look on his face.

"Are you okay, dear?" She asked gently, while lacing her fingers with his.

"As a matter of fact, no." He answered coldly as she raised her eyebrows surprised. "Sorry, Nat. I'm tired, that's all."

"I have amazing news that surely will make you less grumpy." Natali Junkera or Nat to her closest ones, was a tan skinned 29-year old whose family was wealthy. They profited from mines in the Trevisan provinces, and were part of the main supporters of the fascists group. Her long, blonde, hair was her most preeminent feature, as it was an uncommon hair color, specially among the Trevisan. "I am pregnant!"

"Well, now that's some wonderful news!" He smiled while hugging her tightly. "The first good news I've heard in a while. Shall we enter our room and celebrate properly?"

"My, my. Someone's eager huh?" Natali opened the door and both of them headed inside.

Meanwhile, in the Conference Room, the members had decided what would be Tardine's course of action. They would invade and take whatever they wanted from the Hekstanni (Hexastalian). The war was now declared upon them. It was time to get ready for the invasion, and they wouldn't stop unless forced to. They would no more be hearing Pofred and his stupid ideas. To most of them, it looked like the Kladerai's Complacence was also in his blood, making him weak. If he wasn't so important to maintaining the people quiet, they would've gotten rid of him already. It was only a matter of time now.​
 
Royal Palace
Varos, Hexastalia
November 10th, 1941


“Ready?” Petra’s advisor on Public Affairs asked her. This was a big speech, likely one of the most important ones she would ever give.

“Yes, of course. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Her voice wavering ever so slightly. That was a lie. Petra was not ready, she was not ready at all. She had felt sick to her stomach ever since the announcement had reached her earlier in the day. All she had wanted was peace, why was that so hard to ask for?

“Just read off the speech we’ve prepared for you, your majesty. We’ll get through this, no problem. Your people are waiting for you.” While the man thought he was easing his queen’s nerves, he really was not.

As she walked out onto the balcony, Petra whispered, “God, give me strength.” She reached the small podium that had a microphone set upon it. She was flanked by the red and gold banners of the Kingdom. Thousands of people lined the street before her. The news had already gotten around and her citizens looked to her with expectant, nervous eyes. The buzz of murmuring from the crowd silenced as she began to read from the sheath of papers on the podium. “Ladies and Gentlemen, citizens of Hexastalia and those of foreign citizenry, in these darkest hours, I stand before you with a heavy heart, burdened by the weight of the news that has brought us to the precipice of conflict. The Empire of Tardine has declared war upon our great nation.”

The murmurs began again, more intense now, but were silenced with a raised palm. “Our history, marked by resilience in the face of foreign aggression, now faces that calls upon the very essence of our national character. Tardine’a fascist aggression shall not break our spirit; it shall instead strengthen our resolve as it did in 1533 and again in 1588. We are a nation forged in the crucible of adversity, and in the face of this threat we shall stand unwavering.”

“The principles that define us - freedom, justice, and the indomitable spirit of the Hexastalian people - shall guide us through these turbulent times. Our armed forces, the guardians of our liberty, our knights in shining armor, stand ready to defend our great nation against any force that seeks to impose its will upon us.”

Petra felt a sense of anger boiling up inside of her now, and she spoke with more conviction, almost angry now. “Let it be known that we do not seek this conflict, but we shall meet it with the same courage and determination our ancestors did! Tardine may have chosen this path of aggression, but we shall choose a path of freedom and sovereignty.”

Now she was practically shouting, finally feeling as though she could channel the stress she had felt over the last months into her speech , “as your Queen I call upon each and every one of you to unite in the face of adversity. Support one another, stand strong, and let the spirit of Hexastalia shine brighter than ever before! Together we shall overcome this challenge, and the sun shall rise on a free and sovereign Hexastalia!”

“May our resolve be unbroken, our hearts steadfast, and our strength unyielding in the face of this existential peril.”

“God save Hexastalia!”

The gathered crowd was quiet for a moment. Then, as if as one, the brief stillness of the air was replaced with the cacophony of cheers. Petra had never seen such a display of patriotism before, but it seemed war could unite even the most disparate groups.

A pair of Royal Guardsmen came out to shepherd her back into the palace. Her aide was waiting there for her, “That went well, I think.”

“I believe it did. We may win this war yet.” Petra replied, the tiredness in her face now replaced by steely determination. “We just might.”
 
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