Red Circus

by Michelle Al Bitar

  “And therefore, as you have already known that I spent my life in the castle, under the protection of the Freedians, as the king’s true heir, of pure Freedian blood, I shall carry the reign of my father with me to the grave and dedicate the years I have for the protection of Regitum, Noteram, and the East, to make it live in prosperity and the eastern pride.

  “Let the lion be heard, the eagles be seen, and our sigil be respected and hailed in the darkest streets of the East. Let the Regitan blood that once ran through the veins of our martyrs be the ink to write the history of a new era, to write songs about a just king, about a heaven on earth called Regitum!”

  The roar of the crowd resonated everywhere. Some murmured that they had a hunch of what was to come. Others only applauded robotically.

  “I believe someone older should have been crowned. Jonathan is too arrogant,” a lad in his thirties spoke. What appeared to be his sister for she possessed similar features nudged him in disagreement.

  “Have you looked at him? He is clever, a gentleman, and has the aura of a true leader.” She was swooning.

  “Oh, please. You only want to snog him. He is not a leader, he just knows politics.”

  “Name one person who could work as a king!”

  “Anyone would be better than this kid.”

  Riley thought that over. Jonathan was meant to take the crown, even if the death of the king was sudden. They wrote sonnets and endless poems of different kinds about him. He ought to live to people’s expectations. Jonathan focused on each one of the crowd as he spoke. Not a single scream or cheer fazed him. He only watched, observed. Eventually, the cluster she was crushed in was stealing what remained of the oxygen, Riley was pushing her way out, her dress caught under stomping feet.

  “Move.” She gritted her teeth but her pleads were muffled.

  A hand caught hold of her and hauled her out of what seemed like a pack of dozed off men and women.

  “Wh—” She turned to free her hand from her rescuer, but he was pulling her swiftly that she was unable to discern his features until they reached the edge of the forest adjacent to the square.

  “Shush,” Gabriel gently covered her lips with his cold thumb.

  When they were at a safe distance, he removed his hat. “Watch.”

  Riley, dazed at this sudden visit and at the realisation that she was not disillusioned, turned to where he was pointing.

  King Christopher Freedian was standing in the middle of the square addressing his people.

  Chapter 19

  The disturbingly realistic hologram of the king muted the chatter entirely. The Assembly and Jonathan, who remained stagnant, stared ahead and waited for the hologram to stop measuring the mass and start laying the famous speech to their ready ears.

  Whenever a king perished, starting from King Edward Freedian, the deceased ruler would have had a recorder in possession before his death. It was a tradition to record a video of the kings announcing their next heir for each of their children. Before their hour of death, those kings would destroy the video of the second child and keep the one that announced the true holder of the throne, or in case they suffered from a sudden death, one of the confidants that the king would have trusted with such matters destroys the proper video.

  Everybody listened carefully to the king’s will.

  “I, King Christopher Freedian, of pure Freedian blood, son of Caroline Freedian, hereby announce my next in line, the true heir of the eastern throne, ruler and protector of Regitum, head of the eastern body and its four members: Noteram, Silvarest, Opesam, and Messis, Jonathan Chris Freedian, my son, my blood. May his ruling be just, his endeavours wise, and his love and loyalty for Regitum and the East, undying.”

  The figure of the king was slowly distorting into a solid figurine. Replacing his dimensional body, a statue of stone and rubies came to rise in the square as an endless reminder of his era, with a small slab made of gold down his feet that screened:

  King Christopher Freedian

  Reign: 2220-2240

  Regitum, Noteram, The East

  His serious and contemplating statue differed from his laughing and playful character when he was alive.

  “He will be buried in the dirt, just like mother and father,” said Riley, still observing the awestruck people hailing him and the next in line. “The only difference is that he will be worshipped in history for the good deeds he’s never done, and my parents will be forgotten in the ashes of a worthless crime.”

  “Not for long, Redond,” Gabriel answered her without turning his attention from his brother.

  Jonathan had not seen him since he was eighteen. Gabriel had been watching him through the eyes of his allies and his own when he roamed the streets of Civilus like the rest of the nocturnal creatures in his dark grey cloak. He watched him grow into a man who questioned everything, who had a Freedian critical mind. Only it was crushed and washed with the atrocities of the war. He and his fellow soldiers, those who hailed the king’s name in the light and cursed it in the dark, witnessed his merciless killings and his unblinking eyes as the fighters of the Amazon burst into pieces. He had never ceased to send him signs of his wrong reading of the Freedian history. Jonathan overlooked the fact that Roosevelt Freedian was the true hero. It was not Ezra, who had signed a deal with the West, sold his independence and his brother, painted his murder, and had his death publicized as natural causes.

  “You should have never been stripped of your surname.”

  Riley turned to him. The funeral did not matter anymore.

  “Who are you?”

  Gabriel gave her a curt smile. His eyes glinted against the setting sun.

  “Gabriel Freedian at your service, Riley.”

  Under the moon, the bluish hues of twilight reigned over the cherry trees. Their wine coloured layers were dark black against the thin icing that coated them. Riley wrapped herself with her arms. She was able to see her breath turn into a white vapour from the spine-chilling coldness.

  “How is it possible that you are standing here with no fear whatsoever of being beheaded?” she asked him hardly able to stride along the rough road in her long large dress.

  “I have lived in fear for long enough. It is time for the phoenix to rise.”

  Riley did not know how to feel. She had always read about the secret rebellious movement and how it was shunned from society. Roosevelt was a rebel against his own family, and Jacob followed his footsteps.

  “You were trying to recruit me when you drew the phoenix symbol on my portrait.”

  “You have been recruited way before that.”

  She frowned but dared not ask the question yet.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the camp.”

  The trees were imprisoning the forest, making it darker and darker as they dived in deeper.

  Suddenly, Riley stopped.

  “Why should I trust you? How do I know you’re not lying?” Even as she doubted him, his eyes were too similar to Jonathan’s, though the gleam revealed nothing mischievous.

  Gabriel stopped and looked back at her.

  “Your friend, Charbel. He trusts me. Doesn’t he?”

  “Does he know who you are?”

  “No one outside the Phoenix knows who I am. I have never revealed my identity to anyone who doesn’t commit to us ‘til the end. Charbel made it clear that his responsibility stops at charity.”

  “So he refused to join you.” She grinned.

  Gabriel laughed. “Charbel has a family.”

  “He has something to lose and we don’t.”

  He looked at her intently. “The Phoenix is the only thing against the kingdom that is still standing. You cannot rebel against the dynasty of some of the most reckless eastern countries if you are not in it fully. It is an empire we are fighting, ruled by another empire. This is your chance to fight on our side. Will you go all the way or stop at charity just like Charbel?”

  Riley was dumbfounded. There she was faced with a
decision that would change an entire path she had carved and treaded upon. Destination remained the same. Most importantly, by choosing the Phoenix, she would not be alone.

  What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?

  Only the monstrous anger of the guns.

  Her parents were not going to die as cattle only to be buried away as the monsters enjoyed the feast.

  “Your brother Jonathan… he’s a strong man. He can protect himself from the influence of our oppressors.”

  “My brother”—Gabriel’s face turned dim—“has been responsible for every decision the king had made in favour of the West. If he wanted to change something, he would have done it a long time ago.”

  “You had the chance to be the king.” Her voice was clipped, her hands clenched. “You could’ve made this a lot easier.”

  “Easier?! Working against the West as a king makes me an easier target. Working in the shadows grants me the privilege of developing a plan that would work. You have no idea why mother and I fled, Riley. We were forced to flee.”

  Calming down at his defence, she sighed and her eyes dropped down.

  “What’s it going to be?” he asked waiting for her final response.

  Three seconds it took her.

  Three seconds. Three deep breaths.

  Three second it took her to tear her plan apart—a plan she thought would work—and indulge into an endeavour that put her life in greater danger.

  “You may call me a Phoenix,” she uttered steadily.

  Their shoes clicked against the stony passage of the rough forest. Even though practices for the shows of Cirque Et Feu required a heavy physical effort from the team, Riley felt as if it had been ages since she had put that much strength into her steps. The hem of her dress was starting to rip as the spikes of wildflowers were caught in it and she was too impatient to slowly pull it off.

  Gabriel, on the other hand, was freely striding amongst the trees and small protectors of the virgin ground as if it were his home. The air was chilly, and he tried to get hold of Riley’s hand to help her move forward. He couldn’t help but notice the bare shoulders and the way the dress hugged her chest in a tight embrace. His eyes fell upon her round lips breathing out the cold steam of winter. He could not blame his brother for fancying her, for wanting her. She was indeed a sight to look at. But unlike Jonathan, he did not see a vixen, a mere seductive soul to satisfy his deepest desires; he saw a rebel, a soul that spoke of freedom but remained tied to her dark past, the past that defined who she was to that day.

  Silence reigning over the forest did not bring an air of disquietude but of serenity. Riley finally gave up and threw herself on the now smoother ground that snow hadn’t cover yet.

  “You okay there?” Gabriel stopped, starting to feel weariness taking over him.

  “No.” She sighed and lay back on her hands staring at the dark skies. “I should not have worn those bloody heels. My feet are full of blisters now. It’s enough that I’d been moving all day yesterday for the stupid performance.”

  “I can carry you on my back if you want.” He sheepishly shifted from side to side.

  She eyed him disbelievingly and laughed. “Thank you but I’m not keen on piggy back rides.”

  Gabriel smiled and sat on the grass next to her.

  “You know it was damn difficult to find information about rebellious groups. The kingdom does a good job burying evidence of their existence,” she told him earnestly.

  “What do you expect? Those rebellious groups going public would stir up riots among the citizens. Even so, the members themselves prefer working in the darkness.”

  “But how would they reach a bigger audience?”

  “Don’t you work secretly?”

  “My kind of work is different.” She frowned. “I cannot tell anyone of what I do.”

  “In order to reach your purpose untouched. If the government gets hold of us, we are as good as dead.”

  After a while, Riley turned to the man.

  “Gabriel… Since you’ve escaped, you had the chance of starting anew. Why take the risk and do all of this?”

  “Our ancestors toiled to build this city, to extend and make Regitum a great reservoir of culture. I would feel extremely selfish and useless if I leave my country to explode into dust because of my father’s bad decisions.

  “Every wall I’ve touched while I was in my cloak, veiling my eyes, felt more valuable than it ever did when I was in the castle. I started seeing, Riley. I saw and understood that there are lives we are losing for the sake of something evil. There is a great culture that is being eaten by the giant of another.

  “How could I sleep at night if I knew that I could’ve done something for this country, but instead I chose to sit there unmoving? I’d rather live a short life that meant something than a long life of nothingness.”

  As if the world had opened the curtains to reveal what lay behind a pretty face, Riley stared at Gabriel in amazement. He sure was a great speaker with a convincing speech, but there was something he had implied that she heartily admired. His past made him the person he was today just like her. That was something she had to hold on to so she could start building that trust in him.

  “Why don’t you tell me about the Phoenix?” She sprinted suddenly to her feet and held out a hand to help Gabriel get up. He caught it, and with stealthy footsteps, they were walking again.

  “Very well,” he began. “The Phoenix was founded in 2155 with Prince Roosevelt Freedian. He was watching how the West with its tricksters were slowly marking the territory to prepare for WWIV. He dared not tell his family for fear of being accused of betrayal.”

  Riley’s eyes shot at him when the word tricksters rang in her ears. Gabriel did not give it much attention and carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary was said.

  “Even though he was in power, the West was trying to make changes in Regitum’s laws. That’s how Roosevelt had to study the politics of Noteram thoroughly and in secret. Acquiring help from people he trusted, he gathered a small group called the Phoenix. Why you ask? Because A Phoenix shall rise from the ash, Regitum shall reawaken. That’s the motto.

  “In 2164, Jacob, his nephew, had already been a member of the Phoenix. Roosevelt had gathered followers from half the East. Until one day, Crayg Fletcher who had been a member for two years in the committee, was caught and tortured to give information. His last ski competition was his farewell. One year later, Roosevelt was reported to have died of natural causes, as recorded by historians, but Jacob believed that he had been poisoned.

  “Jacob relocated the Phoenix committee from an underground basement in the cottages, to where his grandfather led the Maiden Battle in defence of the untouched lands of Regitum. Ezra had already snitched on his brother as he suspected his movement against him was still a thing but did not know Jacob was one of the members. When Jacob turned 20, he was leaving after one of the meetings held at the place and his car blew up.”

  Riley was extremely taken by that untouched history that she did not notice they had finally reached an ancient metro station.

  “What happened to the Phoenix then?” she asked.

  Gabriel pulled out his cellulogram. The back of the device dissolved from black into tiny transparent cubes that emitted a strong light. The entire station was lit. They started moving forward, following the rails.

  “Ever since I’ve escaped with my mother, we’ve been staying at different homes of secret supporters of Prince Roosevelt and Jacob. There was a lad my age, Keith Slater. His great grandparent was a member of the Phoenix, and he remained loyal to his family’s history. He showed us burnt books of some of the members’ writings and objects. Since then, we’ve recruited the scattered but loyal members. It was difficult but achievable.”

  “I honestly am too amazed to comment on this.”

  Gabriel smiled again.

  “Words mean nothing to me. Only actions and choices.”

  “You would be one hell of a lea
der.”

  When the light of the cellulogram was replaced by the light of the moon, Riley looked ahead and noticed that they had reached Civilus Falls. Water was flowing coolly down into the river that reflected the full shape of the disappearing sun.

  “You really do mean it when you speak of secrecy,” Riley muttered annoyed. She could not handle another step in those shoes.

  In one move, Gabriel rested the back of her neck on his upper right arm and swept her off the ground.

  “Don’t say a word. Even the owls whisper,” he shushed her when she was about to protest.

  Riley held her shoes as Gabriel passed behind the falling water and entered the wet cave. She indeed had a mild fear of the dark, so she held on tight to his collar and patiently waited for the trip to end.

  After a short walk, they finally reached the campsite. There was a river in the middle. On the sides, there were small cabins, where people were strolling around. Gabriel gently placed Riley down and looked at her satisfied.

  “We’re here.”

  Riley gazed around her. She had read about the Maiden Battle. It was touching for her to stand on the same grounds where brave soldiers’ lives were taken. The cabins were few and seemed utterly normal compared to what she had expected.

  Further away, a woman was approaching. Her smooth hair fell in golden waves over her broad shoulders. She could not remember her ever wearing trousers, let alone loose ones. The high collar shirt that appeared as an armour, her long neck, and her head held high gave Riley the feeling of unease and surprise. It was difficult to absorb it all. There she was standing on a historical land, facing a fugitive, a leader, one of the most wanted women in recorded history. Riley bowed before the queen.