NationStates Jolt Archive

01:34 AM, Local Time - Voltaru City, Beta Province

The hooded figures hurried through the shadows, the taller one walking with a purpose his companion could only hope to imitate. Their black robes, laced with accents of dark green, were drawn across the floor in their wake, filling the dome's filtered environment with a soft and gentle sound. The stars twinkled through the dome's transparent roof, holding back the cold as if the it were trying to force its way in, as the two companions finally reached their intended destination.

The wall around the building stood as a sentinal, keeping the enormous residence inside sheltered from the rest of the dome's citizens. The gate in front of them served as the sole entrance. The shorter figure hesitated, gazing at the gold laden emblem of an "H" on the gate. His companion took a few steps forward, speaking as if to himself, in a language the shorter man could not understand. Moments later, they were inside the residence, being ushered toward the back of the entrance hall. The two reached the far end of the building, and paused at an ornate doorway that was ajar. A gruff "enter" broke the silence, as the two obeyed and opened the door.

The room was filled with history: trophies, portraits, and other memorabilia laced in the finest jewels and metals. An overabundance of the emerald and the color green tied the room together, focusing the visitor's gaze to the center, where, in front of dozens of plaques and awards, sat a rather simple desk. Behind it, in a black chair, sat a hooded figure.

The two visitors were now fully aware of their surroundings, as the taller man took a few steps forward, knelt, and took off his hood, revealing a scarred, worn face, bereft of any hair. His shorter companion stood back, half in fear and half in ignorance, gazing at the two columns of men to his sides. To his left sat hooded figures like himself, robes black with green accents. To his right, other figures, but with robes of gold with dark blue accents. Their hoods were all draped over their heads, hiding all but their mouths.

The kneeling figure then spoke, suddenly bringing everyone into focus...

"I have come as you wished, my Lord, and am hear to serve our House with my life."

The man behind the desk, dressed in a black robe laded with emeralds, stood. "Helot, you have done well, now rise and tell me what I want to hear."

The tall man, named Helot, rose, and turned to the rest of the audience. "I come with news of the Vektori girl, as you wished. I have with me here a man who can confirm my findings, as he is one of the Vastivian accomplices and witnessed the event."

Helot motioned to the man who entered with him. The smaller man made a pitiful wave and bowed his head.

Helot continued, motioning to his left, then right: "Lords of Hention, and men of Yaharal.... I am here to verifiy what you all have hoped. The rumours are true - Lady Neira Vektori is finally dead."

A pause, as the whole of the hooded figures murmured to each other, taking in the news.

"It was as we suspected, my Lords," Helot continued. "Our operative was successful in reaching the Vastivian Harem out of Vastiva, and eliminated the girl. Unfortunately, the Sultan's guards did not take this action kindly, and our operative was killed shortly thereafter."

A man on his right spoke out now, "He got the House Guard as well then?"

"That, I am afraid is unknown at this time. I could not ascertain whether the Guard survived the ambush, escaped, or was taken into custody by the Vastivian authorities. But, my Lords, that is of no matter, the House Guard is not -

"I beg to differ, Helot." A man on his left had now interupted. "The Code of the House Guard is not something to be taken lightly. If Ka'tal did survive, she will look to avenge the girls death. She was there when we killed Neira's parents, she has had suspicions for years, it would not take much for her to come and look for -..."

"The House Guard," the man at desk now bellowed, "is of no concern. Whether she comes here or not, she is as good as dead, as is her House that she once served so loyally." He turned to Helot. "How long do we have before this becomes public knowledge?"

"The Sultan will wait for at least a day, my Lord, to make sure all aspects of infiltration have been eradicated. I am sure he will wait no longer to inform the Premier, and it is only a matter of time before the press gets the information after that... the Vastivian Press is as ruthless as our own."

The man sighed. "Very well. You have done as I have asked. You are a true servant of this House. The reward which was promised will be given. She awaits you in the side room. Now leave us.... and leave your companion here."

Helot rose, and exited the room, leaving a very nervous Vastivian in his wake. As the door closed, the man regarded the short foreigner. "What is your name, son of Vastiva?"

"G-G-G Geral, sir. Geral ab-Serat."

"And you can verify what Helot has just told us?"

"Yes sir. I served as a chef in the Sultan's palace, and traveled with the Harem... I did just what Helot and the others... you know, from the group... told me to do..." He started to smile, reminiscing in his own brilliance. "It was quite easy, the guards didn't even suspect it.... they ate that soup so hastily, they were unconscious in minutes... and then I witnessed the attack outside the plane..." He paused and looked down... "There was blood everywhere... the girl's eyes were vacant, she was most surely dead."

The man smiled, a crooked grin that made Geral shudder despite himself. "Then I thank you, on behalf of the House of Hention. Your service has been a great value to us."

"Thank you sir! Helot has told me what a wonderful man you are, and that working for you in this house will be a great honor. He told me... he told me 'Lord Kevlim is a great man, the smartest and most honorable man in the House of Hention, the best Head of a Voltaru House', and that you would treat me well for my service." Geral let out a weak smile, wishing nothing more but for this to be over. The past few days traveling had been horrid.... and the nightmares had kept him from getting any peaceful sleep. She kept entering his throughts, a bloodied hand pointing the finger of guilt at his heart...

The man in the center continued his smile. "My friend, that is so true... and I am sure Kevlim would thank you for your kind words... were he here. However, since he is not - and I am - I do say that you have served your purpose, and in doing so have gained far too much knowledge of our plans for any Vastivian govnosos to know. I'm afraid I find no more need for you.... My condolences." He turned and nodded to his right.

A few seconds later, Geral got his wish...a short, lifeless body was drug out of the room toward one of the basement incinerators.

The walking stick dominated his vision.

It slumped alone in the corner, ivory head pressed gently against the cool stone wall; blockwork decorations set geometrically behind served to give elegance to its repose.
Sinjin continued to watch: light from the last lit lamp flickered and spilled shadows upon the bowed neck, the silvered collar, the well-polished body. He watched even as the single flame began it’s final flickering, as shadows danced and grew longer.
He was watching still when the tiny flicker gave it’s last gasp, bloodlessly. Darkness came, dominating the silence.

Sleep, when it came, came hard.

It had been two years since he had affected a preference for strolling, walking stick in hand. His staff had learned in that time to listen with half an ear for the telling click of silver on stone; the echo would foster a flurry of activity, attentive posts would grow more militant, the heads of servants would bow lower, certain conversations would grow mute.
And sooner – or later – if those in attendance were particularly favored, the tempoed click would be beswirled with laughter, counterpointed in soft chatter, and perhaps even drawn to a clicking halt to answer a question or thirty of this decoration or that carving or this plaque or that choice of color or curtain or shade.
Formally, it was widely circulated the cane had been affected as the Sultancy ascended within the region, a sign of the advancement from ruler of a single nation to Statesman with potency over the direction of principalities far beyond –Vastivas- borders. Some had theorized it’s use as connected to some NATO secret, a sign to be given to great armies publicly – but unknown but to a few. Still others whispered of secreted weapons, protections against the predations of Janus bin Toto, the Tanagondarian Resistance, or assassins from any of –Vastiva’s- myriad detractors.

The truth, simply stated, was far less sinister, lacking all characteristics of conspiracy or deception. A former airman and member of the Coast Patrol for some years, Sinjin’s gait was swift, filled with alacrity.
He had discovered, much to his chagrin, while such a pace certainly aided the business of statecraft and politics, it did not suit younger legs not yet finished their growth, nor older ones that followed. And while she did attempt to keep up on his strolls, it quickly became evident they forced her to nearly an undignified run.

And that, simply, would not do.

The first day, before she had been roused from the harem for a lesson in botany and the arts of the vinter, his stroll had strutted about, the long shaft clasped between elbow and ribs, an elongated baton set with a crown and glory of scrimshawed ivory. He had all but forgotten the presence of his costume piece – until his odalai had been presented before him, freshly scrubbed cheeks and sparkling eyes attentive to their lessons.
He had smiled, features lighting up.
And the silvered tip had struck marble with a singular click.

That day, she had found no difficulty in keeping up with his courtly pace, each click marking the fall of their right feet in perfect symmetry.

Yesterday, he had removed the silver tip, replaced it with a simple rubber bluntness.
Yesterday, he had performed the ghusul with four others, in silence and willful ignorance of the many wounds and surgical marks left upon the body.
Yesterday, he had found he leaned upon it, perhaps a bit heavily as the many in attendance dutifully intoned “Allaahumma ij'alhu lanaa faratan, wa j'alhaa lanaa ajraan wa dhukhran wa j'alhaa lanaa shaafi'atan wa mushaffa'atan”. He found too, as he took his leave soon after the encasement in ice before any could speak their sympathy, the slightly spongy lean – though supportive – left a certain… empty.

He summoned none from the harem that night, nor the night after: he allowed only a single servant to attend him, and she an older foreigner.

Snow fell all that “night”, and the next, blanketing the nation in fallen innocence. As was proper, none noted the time when her body was removed from the tomb of ice, to be interred in clay and given to the cold depths. The ones who performed the deed did not disturb her kafan, did not sully her braids – and did not notice the many marks nor pontificate on their purpose.
Nor did any have any commentary when it came to pass the Sultan did dispatch his Vizier of International Activities, Francesca Berenstein al-Dalal, to personally discuss with Premier Xerco Longbottom of Voltarum the tragedy – and what would be done.

21:42 PM, Local Time - Premier's Residence, The Great Hall, Ohm

"I am here by the Premier's request...."

"I am aware of that Chancellor Jassan. If you could just take a seat, he will be with you in a few moments." The short, gaunt secretary pointed to the corner, where a plush leather sofa sat next to an awkwardly green coffee table. A smirk crossed her face, as if she was quite enjoying this position of power. After a deathly glare, the Chancellor sat down, fuming and staring at the nauseous shade of green in front of her. Less than 10 minutes later, she was standing in the Premier's Residence, looking at her sullen leader.

Xerco Longbottom looked worn, presenting more than the usual weariness the 71 year old leader carried with him. Xanaphia had no clue why he had asked her there, but she didn't expect the visit to be pleasant - despite the fact that they shared leadership of the dominant political party in The Voltarum, they rarely saw eye to eye on any topic. Xerco motioned her to sit, and she gladly sat down on the cold leather seat opposite the Voltaru Executive leader. After a few moments, he spoke softly.

"Xanaphia, you are most likely wondering why I called upon you this evening. To answer your question, and to create many more, I will say this - I ask you here not because of your status as a Chancellor, but as your status as High Lady of the House of Jassan..."

If Xanaphia was not interested at this point, this certainly changed her attention level. Her mind raced to the obvious conclusion, the obvious answer - in fact the one she had been dreading for so long - but her heart kept telling her to disbelieve, to argue, and fight for another easier... another less devastating solution. She fought back the emotion in her voice: "My Premier, and Lord of the House of Longbottom... how can I assist you?"

Xerco did not hesitate to answer. "I have just been informed that a foreign dignitary is to arrive tomorrow, to discuss a matter that I am afraid affects our two countries greatly... the Vizier of International Activities... from Vastiva."

"Neira!?" Her hands immediately jumped to her mouth, trying to keep the word inside her.

Xerco's eyes fell. "There was an attack. Two of her guards were poisoned, and five others were killed in apprehending the assassin... It appears our young friend was the sole target...." Xerco sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the floor.

"So they caught the attacker? Have they learned anything?" Xanaphia now stood and paced, her mind aching with grief, yet racing in thought at the same time. "Who was behind this, Xerco?" She sat back down, trying despertly to calm her emotions.

"The assassin was killed as he tried to escape. I will not know the full details until the Vizier arrives in the morning...But you know the usual suspects... Vastiva has their share of Terrorist groups... and I don't even want to speculate what Voltaru could be guilty of this..."

They both sat speechless for awhile. "So you know, then, why I asked you here," Xerco continued, as the shock finally started to wane off Xanaphia's face.

"Yes, my Premier. Neira was the last of her house. We knew the House of Vektori would be dissolved soon, we just assumed it would take a little longer..."

"And as High Lady of the First House of the Voltarum, you understand I now must ask you to settle the house. As there are no living female relatives, there is the question of the property of the Vektori... this has not happened in some time... and if we follow the precedent..."

Xanaphia went rigid. "The precedent was set almost a milennia ago, Xerco. I refuse to allow them to seize the Vektori wealth and property... it would be better for all if the house and its contents were given to the people as a historical landmark..."

"The Third House would not agree. By precedent, they could claim their right to the Vektori's wealth."

"The House of Hention is a house of dishonor, and while neither of us could admit that in public, we both know it to be true. With the exception of Eikhonal, no other houses would support this, so they will have nothing to stand on." Xanaphia crossed her arms, apparrently ending the discussion.

"Very well. I will bring the motion to the Order as soon as possible. I do think they will agree with you, as few are supported by The Third House." He paused. "Of course, there is also the other consequence of this action."

Xanaphia sighed. "By my count at least 3 houses will proclaim themselves Vektori's replacement.... that is, if a replacement will be accepted by the public."

Xerco nodded in solemn agreement. "Even so, Xanaphia, I cannot help to think that the outcome of this situation will shape our political landscape for some years to come. We both know that a few of those houses will attempt to use this as a stepping stone to political power."

"Then we must hope, Premier, that the people make the right decision."

"Indeed. I thank you for your time Lady Jassan... but I think it is time we take leave of each other. We have much to do before the situation goes public.

Lady Neira Vektori Murdered in Vastiva - Second House of Voltarum Falls

OHM - VFP - Tears of grief were shed across the nation today, when the story broke that the last remaining member of the House of Vektori, The Second House of the Voltaru, was violently murdered in our neighbor nation of Vastiva.

It has been years since the 13 year old girl had left our country, surprising and angering many with her entrance into the Harem of the Sultan of Vastiva. News had been scarce of her life there, and her house sat in limbo here at home, as it had no male heirs to pass on to. As readers are well aware, the last remaining male member of the House of Vektori, Neira's father, was killed in a tragic accident nearly 10 years earlier.

Unidenified sources broke the story in the Trajan Times early this morning, laying out the tragic events of the attack as the Harem traveled outside of Vastiva. While the details are incomplete, the important facets remain clear: Lady Vektori was murdered right outside her plane, and she was apparently the target of the assault. Unconfirmed reports tell of the imminent arrival of a Vastivian Vizier to brief the Premier and the High Order on the circumstances surrounding the attack. As High Lady of the First House, Chancellor of Commerce Xanaphia Jassan will be in charge of settling the now abondoned house. While she has not publicly commented on such a move, it is believed that she will attempt to proclaim the Vektori possessions as a national museum, something the new 2nd House, The House of Hention, may dissaprove of.

The Premier spoke earlier this afternoon about the attack, stressing that the faction behind such a horrific act shall be caught and punished. "The Vastivian government and I will be in close contact, and look to follow up on many leads in this gruesome attack. I cannot stress enough to the Voltaru people that this holds our utmost attention and wewill use every resource available to find any information we can about this tragic event."

Around the nation thousands of Voltaru today grieved for the fallen Lady, as hundreds of memorials sprang up across the country in a matter of hours....

Will There Ever Be Another 7th House?

LIKLI - VFP - With the tragic death of Lady Vektori, and the resulting dissolution of her house, the whole of the Voltaru are now questioning what should be done next.

For centuries, the role of the ancient Houses has been stagnant. Born from the times when royalty ruled our great nation, the Houses have gradually evolved into something very different. While they hold no political power and have no official special priviledges, the importance of their history and their place in Voltaru culture and society has always been held extremely valuable. With the death of the second oldest house, many question whether another older house should "take its place" to keep the number at seven, or whether the step is unnecessary and a throwback to a tradition that is antequated and fruitless in our now democratic state. Even further debate fumes over how such a choice should be made - whether by popular vote or executive decision. Obviously, with such an important and emotional debate, opinions run rampant throughout the nation.

One thing is clear, however: three highly touted houses have already stepped up and announced that they believe they should replace the House of Vektori as the new 7th House of the Voltaru. The House of Crateen was the first to announce their intention, but many believe they are the least probable to be picked due to their relative obscureness and ties to the Voltaru Libertarian Party. The second House to go public was the House of Yaharal, a well respected and wealthy house that has always had ties to the House of Hention, the new 2nd House of the Voltarum. The third House, and currently the most popular, is the House of Alastura, the largest of the three candidates. This presence of eager, and seemingly well "qualified" candidates, has only intensified the debate.

As usual, many of the Chancellors have kept quiet on the subject. Both the Premier and Chancellor of Commerce Xanaphia Jassan are members of other Houses, and much media attention has been directed their way only to be met by security and rushed "no comments." Other House members, however, have been much less tight lipped, with both the House of Eikhonal and Hention announcing today that they fully supported a new 7th House and that they wholeheartily endorse Yaharal as Vektori's replacement. The Houses of Kathon and Nekret have given vague responses when posed the same question, but it is clear that if they favored a replacement, Alastura would be their choice.

A recent poll conducted by the Tesla Institute showed a similar split among the populace - a full 42% say they would "approve" of having a replacement for Vektori, while 39% would "disapprove." The remaining percentage fell mostly in the category of "Doesn't care either way."

Whatever the outcome, most pundits believe that this decision will have a lasting effect on the political makeup of the nation, as the added distinction of being a "Voltaru House" can bring instant political sway.