To End Every War: A Mystery Fantasy by Raymond Wilkinson

Author:Raymond Wilkinson [Wilkinson, Raymond]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathy J Productions
Published: 2024-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

The Early Afternoon of Saturday, September 7, 1901

Kirsi looked with Doppel at the Alsace Plaza beyond them, bordering the Ducale palace’s east end. Alongside Bernie and Dina, they were about 200 feet away from the northeast tip of the Palace. But the side entrance has to be further down. Kirsi squinted through the mass of people gathering and spotted a sizable gated doorway surrounded by shallow semi-circle steps and ascending guards in black with long rifles bayoneted.

Protesters were streaming up from the far south, all shouting and waving signs as they went. Not what I was expecting, even with the warning.

“Well, shit.” mused Doppel in her green day suit at the sight transpiring. “I should have kept on my pajamas today and stayed lounging in the Academy. At least I’d still be alive.” She stripped off her jacket, exposing a laced shirtwaist blouse with damp pits.

Bernie huffed and leaned on a towering equestrian statue beside them. “So much for your calm Esmeralda impersonation! Only a few people here have pointed at you so far. We’re three hundred feet from making it in safely! Besides, there’s no way back to the Academy for the moment. At least not on foot with the trolley system shutdown on the Grand Via.”

“So not on foot, you say…” Kirsi watched mounted cavalrymen in black and red actively patrolling around the massive plaza fountain with truncheons drawn and sabers on their hips. “Can we dramatically steal some tied-up horses or something? I’m not much of a rider, but it sounds better than faking our way in past pointy sabers and bayonets. Kam could lead the way.”

Kam laughed and looked up at the statue of the horseman. “Yes, with King Mazzola stoically mounted beside us, we shall charge home victorious! And then they’ll rename the Mazzola Opera House the Ruszo Theater!” She waved an arm at the colossal building behind them with a square entrance portico held aloft by two-story columns.

“What!?” asked Kirsi as she pulled back and looked at the grand sight. The building’s soaring portico featured sculptures with chiseled text in High Melorian that she could not read. “This is Junior’s father? Daddy, I don’t think your stupid son will ever have something like this!”

Bernie pulled herself off of King Mazzola’s plinth. “Ugh, why is everyone getting so dramatic!? And yes, the Opera House was renamed after the conquering King in honor of his reunification program. Ironically, the Melorian advocates are headed toward the Opera House and the nearby Melorian consulate. We accidentally walked into the epicenter! You see, the local Caralis royalists believe that reunification is not a good idea due to–”

“—Folks,” interjected a northward-looking Dina, “there are a lot more protesters coming behind us from the Grand Via… and they look much rougher around the edges!”

Kirsi looked northward and examined the marching protesters. Unlike the more organized and placard-holding Human Melorian advocates, the new protesters became an angry mob. Selkie, Goblins, and Dwarves, too. Most resembled the shipwrights that Kirsi knew from home: tough, blue-collar Kindred good at building but even better at breaking.

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