Chapter Text
♫Talk Talk - Have You Heard the News?♫
Bart's Memories
June 22th, 1778
...
I woke up this morning feeling somewhat different.
The first thing I do is to check my legs in the mirror. They look the same, and so is the rest of my body. My wife woke up before I did. My kids are out in the streets. For a moment, I feel alone in bed. One with the bed. The red blanket covers me like the walls of my mother's womb before I announced my birth, but since I've already been born, today seems like a chance given to heaven for me to be reborn as a new person. A new Burmecian. A new me.
As soon as I look in the bathroom mirror, I see that I haven't changed much since yesterday. Every time I'm reborn, I look the same. It's as if things never change.
That's good. I hope today is a day when nothing changes.
Then I realize that the light drizzle of the morning soon becomes a torrent of heavy rain in the distance, and I, in my hundreds of rebirths, am already aware that everything that happens away from me always somehow hits me up close like a punch in the guts. No, I'm not awake. This must be a dream. One I'll likely forget as soon as I wake up for real. It can't be true, war isn't about to happen, Burmecia won't be blown to smithereens, nobody will die, not today or tomorrow... Yet, these rumors infect me like a disease, they shake me from inside and out.
The people on the streets made up of broken promises and wasted kisses must be lying. All of them are liars, and the greatest liar of all lies above them. He speaks from his pedestal...
— ...Citizens of Burmecia, gathered here today in the palace's square... As your sovereign, it is my duty to inform you about the current situation concerning our kingdom and the world in which we live. Through my trusted officers, I have been made aware of the increasing number of Alexandrian troops defiling our hallowed grounds with their very presence, which constitutes a violation of the Treaty of Lindblum. By decision of the council, I immediately opened diplomatic channels with Alexandria to ask them to disarm their troops and leave our territory at once, but to this very day, there was no response. Meanwhile, the offending troops are slowly advancing towards our kingdom, their intentions yet to be fully unveiled.
— That idiot knows something we don't, or else he'd be stripped-down-to-the-bones honest with us. – Clyde was right there beside me, and so were a thousand other people who listened to the King's speech, some in panic, others convinced that blood would be shed, and others seemed not to care at all because it had happened many, many times before, as if interference from foreign nations under ours was something as natural and welcomed as the rain that falls, and has fallen on us for eternity.
...
Clyde's Memories
The same day...
...
As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw her.
Cynthia. My wife. Yes, it was her, beautiful and naked as always, but today she woke up sounding like a man. Weird, I didn't marry a man. Her marvelous breasts were soft as usual, something you don't notice in men unless they're fat, but anyway, her voice was so awful that it wounded my heart and left me bleeding all over my chest.
Later, after a good breakfast of chai and green oats, Cynthia informed me that her throat infection had left her hoarse and sounding like a feeble old man. Poor thing, I'm glad I wasn't too hard on her. Only in my mind, but still, I have respect for some people. Not all of them, but some happen to be on my white list, which isn't saying much.
There's my family. They have my utmost respect. I love my wife, I take care of my kids and I'm pretty good at baking. Well, not everyone agrees with the last point, but at least I have a job. And, to be terribly fair, baking a cake is much more worthwhile than being a guard serving the Burmecian royalty and all that they represent through their constant decay of ideals.
I hate the King. Many do, but he has not shown up in public very often, not since he fell ill all of sudden. Back when I was a royal guard, and it feels like it was years ago, or was it weeks? I'm not sure, that old life is gone, but the thing is, I've had the chance to see the King a few times lying in bed like he was about to die but he's so stubborn he doesn't. I swear, His Majesty is so debilitated by this nameless disease, I thought about calling it "hell", because, man... If the guy sneezes, he'll turn to dust instantly. That's how bad he is, and he's not even that old.
I'd say he's about my age plus ten, or is it five? Whatever. I don't care. If he dies, I will smile. No, better stay neutral. Don't drip any tears, waste them for family blood. Remember when Cynthia's father died of a heart attack? Very tragic. Well, I didn't know the old man as well as my wife did, and the poor thing was so devastated after he was gone that I had to spend two weeks selling cakes at home because I couldn't leave her alone, the children had their own lives outside all that sobbing, and I know I could trust Cynthia's relatives to be there with her to offer comfort in my place, but no! Of course not, they're the kind of relatives who pretend to give a damn about other people's suffering, they say they'll be there for you but they leave when they need to work, it makes me sick, those kinds of people, you know? After all, do they live for work or for their family?
And I'm not like them, I'm better than that. I'm a Brandford like my father was, pure and simple as that. I do miss my father too, and that's kind of why I felt what my wife went through, like, when somebody close to you dies, it feels like it's just you in the world and no one else, it sucks, and it was good that I was there for her.
Also, during that turbulent period, some of my customers complained that my bread and cakes tasted bad, that the texture was all wrong, that the recipes were a mess, in short, they were right, I do try my own products from time to time to make sure everything is right and the taste was shit! It sounds ridiculous, but one day I choked on a piece of cake that was so hard it was as if I'd eaten a brick. But how could it be otherwise? Obviously I was shaken too, and my own pain and distress flowed over into my creations. Like, I couldn't stand watching my wife crying, either loudly or in silence, and when I'm shaken up, I usually swear at the people around me, and I'm glad I didn't do it.
Funnily enough, Cynthia said that my food never tasted so good after she accepted her father's death. I don't mean that she's accepted it completely, what I'm saying is that she's better, she's looking after the children, cleaning the house, watering the flowers, and she even smiled the other day when little Aoife almost uttered a full word. You know, that brought a smile to my face too...
Now, what did Aoife almost say yesterday, was it "Nag nag nag" or "Muma"? I don't know. She's a strange baby, one who brings a lot of joy simply by being who she is.
Well, I'm doing what I can to ignore the King's announcement. I've been standing here for what it feels like a decade and my feet are beginning to hurt and scream. Bart is at my side and he feels the same as I do. I haven't felt such pain since the day I enlisted in the army and had to stand still for a large, and rather unnecessary, amount of time. Interestingly, the King does remind me of one of my old commanders, he and his stupid moustache, and even though I don't want to, I hear some of the words coming from our ruler. As usual, he carries the dismay of a nation on his back and his speech is equally disheartening.
— ...The ruin of our nation may be approaching. It is a time to fear, indeed, but don't be afraid. There is no reason to give ourselves to madness in the light of all these unfortunate events. Your hearts can be at ease, as our almighty gods, Bahamut and Leviathan... The Law of Heaven and the Chaos of the Underworld... They will assist our men who will be sent to the fields beyond the reach of this everlasting rain. In a matter of three days, our brave soldiers will be summoned to protect ourselves against this unjustified offense. However, this is by no means an invitation to be hostile against Alexandria. This is a fight for freedom, security, and our legitimate rights within our boundaries.
The address goes on for several more hours.
It's as if no one has a life of their own while the King talks non-stop. He talks about honesty, even though he's this dishonest piece of shit; he talks about being proud of Burmecia, despite having spent the nation's treasury on fancy parties while leaving behind the renovations of several neighborhoods he promised to rebuild; he talks about family, even though some of us have heard rumors that he tried to murder Prince Gabriel, that do-gooder, arrogant clown who stands right beside the awful, nasty creature that he still dares to call by brother, as if any hint or trace of free will had been eliminated from his very being.
And then, after it's all said and done, Edgar... Ugh, how I hate giving this bastard some humanity by calling him by his name, so... The King goes back to his chambers. Like, we all feel better in the dark, but I'm not the one who has a skin peeling rate as extraordinary as the amount of bananas peeled and devoured by children.
— What a bleeding heart he is. To be fair, blood is what the King wants. Our blood, not the enemy's. We're so disposable, and he is proud of throwing a hundred of us away. – I said, unafraid of what other people might say or think about me. But then again, what's the point of thinking the way I do when the crowd's cheering and veneration for the royal family is far louder than any of my subversive thoughts?
— Alexandria and Burmecia at war again… Tell me, why do these peace keepers persist in fighting each other? – Bart asked, in his immeasurable disappointment, as the noise of the crowd increased and drowned our voices and individualities. But no, I refuse to accept that as the truth, and perhaps that's why I am the way I am.
— Because they wear their dark sides like badges of honor, my dear brother. – The words come out, but they are nowhere as comforting as I hoped they would be.