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[IC]  Life in Greater Sartoria

#1

Centro del Mondo (formerly known as Regù)
Greater Sartoria


Valente Ratti scowled as he checked his watch. She was 5 minutes late. She was always several minutes late. Why? They always did it the same day, at the same time, in the same place, and she knew that. So why was she always late? He had arrived 10 minutes  before, almost ready, and had spent the time since then preparing the room, setting everything up, so that they could begin almost as soon as she arrived. If she decided to grace him with her presence.

As if she had read his thoughts, Lucrezia entered the room, looking as casual as always, completely aware of the fact that she was late, and that he hated that, but pretending to be oblivious. Without uttering a single word, she approached him, kissed him on his left cheek, and began undressing, placing her clothes on a nearby chair.

“You are late.”

“I like call it being early with style.”

“You can call it whatever you want. I was still waiting for you for 5 minutes.” he said, handing her a set of dark brown robes.

“You worry too much! We are still doing this, and it’ll be awesome.” she said, putting on the robes, and extending the hood, so all that could be seen of her were her bright eyes shining in the darkness of the room.

“I see you got everything ready while you waited.”

“Yes, it’s all here. We just need to get on with it. Are you all set?”

“Sure. Let’s go then.”

Valente and Lucrezia, one with black robes, the other with brown ones, approached a long table, extended their hands, palms facing downwards, and began chanting in Mazzialatto, the ancient language. It was mandatory to learn the chants in school, and to understand their meaning, but few people could actually translate Mazzialatto.

They kept chanting, until Valente gently prodded her on her side, nodding at the knife resting on one end of the table. He kept chanting, but she stopped, grabbing the knife, and performing the necessary rituals. It had to be properly prepared before being used in the ceremony, otherwise it would be a simple kitchen knife, and that would be no good for their purposes. As soon as it was ready, she shivered, and see Valente shiver as well, both feeling infused with the strength and power to carry on. It was their second time doing this on their own, and they were sure that their power, and their connection to the Eyeless, was growing, and would continue to grow.

Valente increased his chanting, joined again by Lucrezia, as they eyed almost fanatically the person on the table. They commended themselves to the Eyeless. The knife was swiftly lowered onto the person, who softly exhaled, the twinkle of life leaving their eyes, a payment for the eventual restoration of the Eyeless.

Valente and Lucrezia rejoiced, certain that Sacur, the Eyeless, the Emperor of Sartoria, was pleased with them.

#2

Messelia
Sovereign City of West Messelia


Things were finally looking good, thought the old man as he left work. Well, at least they looked better than they had been since the end of the war. Granted, retirement was a thing of the past, there was the ever present fear of an invasion from either side of the border, and the city was still being slowly rebuilt, but at least life was good, and that was all he needed. He wished the people at the front desk a good weekend, and started walking home. He didn’t have to walk home -public buses had been reinstated a few years ago-, but he thought it was healthy, and the fact was that, in a city where most leisure activities were frowned upon, walking was probably the more acceptable and inexpensive way to stay fit.

As he looked at the old houses on both sides of the street, Lorenzo chuckled, a sad and almost imperceptible chuckle, reminiscing the time before the war, when those houses were occupied by the wealthiest residents of Messelia, those who could afford to live comfortable and ignore the horror coming from the frontlines, those who could afford to avoid being drafted. Lorenzo had been drafted, and was proud to serve, but received a medical deferment. Things had deteriorated greatly by the time his next evaluation was due; he never served in the Sartorian Military.

He supposed he could no longer call himself a Sartorian. He knew the Gialla Government claimed sovereignty over all of the Former Sartoria, but for all practical purposes, they held little authority over the south and east, and their control over the west was almost entirely nominal. These days he was what people called a West Messelian, a resident of the section of Messelia that had not been occupied by the Sacuri, but was not ruled by Gialla either. It was a city with its own government and jurisdiction over part of the metropolitan area, and over the decades it had developed a distinct identity, apart from both the Sacuri and Gialla.

Messelia was still a nice city, despite everything, despite the food shortages of the past, the lack of entertainment, the stress over the always looming armies on both sides. It was a well known fact that Messelians were proud of their autonomy and their ability to resist the urges to join either country, in spite of their overwhelming strengths. In recent years the city had even regained some of its former colour, with a budding theatrical community, improving public transport and reasonably self-sustaining food supply.

Life was definitely easier for the younger generations, who knew little of the hardships and horrors that Lorenzo had experienced. He certainly remembered the struggles to make ends meet after the Sartorian Army left the city. When the borders were closed, shortly after the withdrawal, the local economy collapsed, there were riots and long queues for food. There was chaos and lawlessness during the early days, when nobody knew whether they would be able to withstand the impending invasion by the Sacuri, who would’ve liked nothing more than to claim for themselves the Sartorian capital.

They did invade, a couple of months after the withdrawal, and they managed to take the eastern side of the city before the few soldiers who had defied orders and remained in the city managed, somehow, to stop the Sacuri advance. They were the ones who built the barriers and kept the savages at bay, though that also meant sealing the fate of the tens of thousands who lived in the eastern half of the city, who would have no option but to survive under Sacuri rule. Things had been tough over in the west side, but the complete lack of information from the east only led to wild rumours about the horrors that were probably taking place there.

It always surprised Lorenzo how fast he got home when he let his mind wander. One moment he was leaving work, the other he was at his doorstep, searching his pocket for his key. He looked back at the city lights, and beyond that, the darkness of the eastern side. Electricity was cut off during the sacrificial season, over in the east, so those devoted to Sacur could conduct their horrendous rituals in peace. He shuddered, and pitied those poor kids who were part of the countless rituals across the city, and all over Sacuri Sartoria.

Knowing there was little he could do, Lorenzo turned his back on the city and entered his home, a loving family already waiting for him. Life went on.




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