the Victorious Saint

the Victorious Saint is a short story on a political leader trying to overcome political obstacles he must face.

The Victorious Saint

 

            It is nearing the end of the Great Civil War, a futile enmity waged between the four member states of the now fragmented ISIS Empire. The warring member states were then known as the Illumina Federation, the Stronghold Confederacy, the Republic of Imperialism, and the Stonehenge Society. They each fought for control over one thing-the central region known as Illuminum, or the Shining Hills. This prosperous, fertile land was the homeland of the residents of the four warring states and anyone who had control over it would be the most powerful person in existence. But this is not the story of how these states won control over this land; this is the story of how one man’s determination and ambition won him great fame, fortune, and dominion over the nations, and eventually, the world.

            Richard Solarek stared out of the rear left window of his black Chevy Suburban. He watched as the quaint and tranquil farmlands of Northern Stronghold passed by. The peacefulness overcame him like cool water, but the feeling soon vanished as he imagined the sight of lifeless corpses lying about the fields. You see, Richard, or Solarek as many called him, was the acting 10^th Grand Chancellor of the Illumina Federation and his infantry would soon be standing in the doorway of Northern Stronghold’s last bastion, Georgetown. They would arrive by nightfall that night if Georgetown did not agree to surrender. Since Solarek was the most sensible of the four acting Grand Chancellors, he was visiting Georgetown to commence negotiations of surrender. He knew not the outcome of the negotiations, since the last Confederate leader, Ulysses Moscow, was known to be very brash and short tempered. “Driver,” said Solarek.

            Glancing in his rear view mirror, the driver replied, “Yes, Signor Solarek?” Luigi Medici, the driver, was from Southern Italy and his English needed work.

            “What is our ETA?”

            “We should arrive there once we come over this hill, signor. Why do you ask?”

            Glaring at Luigi with his vibrant emerald eyes, Solarek ordered, “Just drive.” Luigi nodded and drove on over the hill. Sure enough, the city was just below them.

            To Solarek, the city of Georgetown looked like a typical rebel bastion-the roads were trashy, debris dotted the surrounding landscape, and the city itself seemed cold and dark. As they neared the center of the city, the final Confederate capitol building came into their view. Clearing his brown hair out his eyesight, Solarek examined the complex. He saw what looked like a former Baptist Seminary, the North Georgian Baptist Seminary to be exact. The campus had many Victorian style buildings and domes, each with its own unique architecture, marble pillars, and rustic brick, typical in this part of Stronghold. But the unsightly thing was the scores of militiamen-each armed with powerful artillery-atop of buildings. They glared at them as they cautiously drove down Main Street.

            When Luigi parked the Suburban in front of the former campus President’s mansion-now the governor’s mansion-, Confederate Regent Ulysses Moscow paced quickly out of the estate. He opened Solarek’s door and said hastily, “Chancellor, please do come in. We must hurry-we haven’t much time.” Ulysses was from Scotland and his strong accent made it somewhat difficult for Solarek to understand him. Without an answer, Ulysses ushered Solarek, Luigi, and two armed and burly guards into the Victorian estate. Leading his guests into a large rectangular office with only a hard oak desk at its center, Ulysses seated his guests and himself. Almost immediately, Ulysses began to weep, saying, “Please Chancellor Solarek, my people have spoken to me and have pleaded with me to surrender to your forces. Many parishes have fallen under your might within hours, sir, and Lord only knows what you might do to my city and I! Please, on behalf of all the remaining Confederate citizens-we surrender!” Ulysses began to weep harder, repeating, “we surrender” when he would gasp for air. He shamefully hung his head in defeat.

In a humbling manner, Solarek got to eye level with Ulysses and said to the sorry-looking figure, “We have no reason to destroy you now-you have just surrendered. Look at me.” The dejected Ulysses looked into Solarek’s eyes. “All you must do is to raise the Federation’s flag on top of this building and the legislature, signalizing that you and Georgetown have peacefully surrendered. That will divert the infantry from Georgetown.”

            “Will Georgetown align totally with the Federation once this occurs?” questioned Ulysses, wiping a stray tear from his Scottish countenance.

            “Yes,” affirmed Solarek, “Georgetown, Northern Stronghold, and the remaining rogue Confederacy will be completely absorbed into Illumina once the siege is lifted from Sterling.” Ulysses nodded his head and thanked Solarek, his somber mood now more cheerful. Shaking his new leader’s hand vigorously, Ulysses exclaimed, “You are so gracious, Chancellor! I will make sure Stronghold subjects to every order you give us! Thank you, my liege!” Ulysses humbly came to one knee and bowed his head.

About a week later

            

Solarek walked the hallways of his luxurious estate in Illuminapoli, the central capital of the Federation and its conquests. Gripped tightly in his right hand was the Illumina Header, the local newspaper. On the front page, the headline read in all black caps: FEDERATION LIBERATES CONFEDERATION. The article continued on the subject explaining that with Stronghold and most of Imperialism subdued, war experts stated that “the struggle for power over Illuminum shall begin to end.” Though news of Illumina’s progress made Solarek feel profoundly victorious, the impeding task of war with Stonehenge frightened Solarek. He worried he would lose all of his power over the fragmented empire-his greatest fear. He had lost sleep over it. But his prudent spouse, Sharon, reminded him, “Stonehenge fears you and Illumina more than they do anything else. Let that put your mind at ease.” She was right, he thought. Stonehenge was ancient and very mainstream. They feared the modernization of their land and worried they would be subdued more quickly than ever because of it. But what was their weakness? Then it dawned on him; Stonehenge was economically unstable-a house of cards. And it takes only one card to cause the whole thing to fall. But it had to be a good one, and Solarek knew just the one to deal the knockout punch.

            In Stonehenge, the entire state, even before the Civil War, would shut down everything for one whole day. This was the holy day of Kalan, the day of rest and peace. It always fell on July 26, and luckily, that day was only a week away. Stonehenge was also an orthodox state-they always recognized religious holidays regardless of the circumstances. And that would be their downfall, Solarek said to himself.

Yet another week later

            

The March on Josephus, the archaic capital of Stonehenge, was to take place at noon on July 26. The week prior to the historic event marked the official waging of war between Stonehenge and the Federation and the final conquests on Rogue Imperialism. The governments in Illuminapoli and Josephus greatly differed during this time. Illuminapoli was lively and full of suspense while Josephus was silent and remorseful; realizing that they stood no chance for the Federation’s united forces.

            Solarek found himself in his living room within the Illuminapoli estate, staring off into space. Sharon came to his side. She leaned over to her husband’s side and fixed his collar. “Richard,” she said gently, “you seem so distraught at this joyous hour. Why must you?”            

            Looking at his wife, he replied, “Sharon, the feeling of power has befallen me. I can’t decide if I’m cheerful of depressed.”

            “That is understandable. If I was in your position, I would’ve devoured half our wine cellar. Some days I wonder how you manage an entire nation the way you do. But then again I remember that you were top of your Political Science and Government class at Harvard, so you’re well qualified.” She patted him on the back, nodded, and then stood up. She retorted, “Now I know what my mother meant when she said ‘you married a giant’-you still tower over me, even when I’m standing.”

            Solarek laughed and said, “We’ve been married 27 years and you just now noticed that?”

            Sharon chuckled and exclaimed, “Oh Richard, you never stop reminding me.”

            “Well I don’t want to forget. Can you…” Solarek was cut off by commotion down below in Illuminapoli. Sharon and Solarek came to the front A-framed window. Solarek opened one of the window panels and listened. What he heard shocked him. A messenger who supposedly ran from the War Offices in Frankfurt, Illumina exclaimed loudly in the town square, “STONEHENGE HAS SURRENDERED! THE CIVIL WAR IS OVER!!”

Yenokhia, United ISIS-three days later

            

Solarek stood nervously in the fabled Global Chapel of Yenokhia, the center of the Civil War. He stood behind a red curtain that led out to a balcony overlooking the masses of Yenokhians, or citizens of the empire. Standing out there now was the old senator from Illumina Cedric Holmes, leader of the Imperial Party. He was delivering what is to be known as the Speech of Unification-the speech that would unite Illumina, Stronghold, Imperialism, and Stonehenge under one name again. Solarek was motioned by a security guard to stand directly behind the red veil to where his nose could touch it. He could hear Senator Holmes’ speech. “…And now my fellow Yenokhians,” he said in his frail voice, “your new leader, guardian, and protector-The Victorious Saint of the Great Civil War, the Savior of Yenokhia, your 10^th Grand Chancellor-Richard Solarek!”