Ozi’pol - 1910
The industrial red sun crept over the mountains that surrounded Ozi’pol, and the first building to feel the warmth of day had its roof at about seven hundred meters above sea level. There stood the distinctive Tower of the Listener on top of the Mountain of Whispers. The tiers of the tower spiraled up ninety meters until the final tier reached another thirty. The tower amounted for only a fraction of the entire complex with high walls surrounding the entire top of the carved mountain. The tower had a presence that moved the six million inhabitants who lived at the base of the mountains surrounding Ozi’pol, and it was a source of hope for 250 million Gaeanists. On top of the tower meditated the one who was closest to Gaea, the Listener.
The Ozians built it to withstand sieges, but after centuries of conflict there was one siege too many. The Haradric Empire finally conquered their last ambition in 1882, the Divine Republic of Ozia. They kept the listener under their guard on top of her own tower, keeping the populace pacified while they slowly crept their own religion in. New temples for their God Melkor were built immediately, and the soul of the nation dwindled.
The Great War of Taijitu brought new embarrassments, because women were not allowed to enlist. The once proud warriors of Gaea were dead or dying, and the new conscripts of Gaean Peoples were disheartened men subordinate to an empire that put them between their bullets and Northern Powers bullets. The Gaean Divisions snapped in the Eluvataran winter. One dead Ozian prisoner triggered the beginning of the Mutiny which put the Haradric armies in retreat back south to Ozia. There they fortified to hold off against rioting, and the impending Northern Powers invasion.
Ozipol, Tower of the Listener - 1910 - Liberation of Ozi’pol
General Idul bin Zarak watched down from the top tier of the Listener’s tower. At the base of the tower were stone palisades that lined around the mountain. He was a tall lanky man with dark skin and dark Ozian red eyes. He wore a stiff dark kepi on his head and a brilliant pure white military coat lined top to bottom with glistening and jingling medals and ranks. He, or rather his servants, kept his pants creased and his boots polished. He kept a ceremonial Ozian blade and an Iseltov semi-automatic pistol attached to his belt, two gifts from his service in the Listener’s Republic.
He thought about these palisades in ancient history with elite Ozian archers patrolling them, but now they had exhausted Haradric conscripts from all across Taijitu defending against the revenge of Gaea. Plumes of black smoke rose around everywhere, and the air had the smells of ash and a dash of burnt flesh. The deep heart-vibrating rumbles of naval battery echoed through the mountains with frequent rattles of rifle and machine gun fire all over Ozi’pol. While the conscripts held off the assault at the tower’s gate, the imperial administrators and military leaders including himself that lived there since conquering Ozia planned a retreat back to the Haradrim. His emergency orders included the transport of the Listener Zukina Eda Oz too.
Idul walked towards the door of the top tier where the Listener resided, and her loyal retainers armed with Iseltov rifles let him through. He marched down a long carpeted hallway with colorful keffiyehs of past Listeners hung on the walls. He let himself into the study where three pairs of purple eyes looked over at him. Listener Zukina stood by her desk while her two top retainers, Admivis Rae Denizinha Parolaz and Zeitev Sappinho Stureii, stood on both sides of the desk. Rae, a tall muscular woman with a plain black keffiyeh, eased her hand to her pistol holster.
Zeitev shouted at Idul as he walked closer to them, “We know why you’re here. She’s not going with you to Haradrim.”
Idul stopped and looked downward at the short Ozian man with a timid voice. His poor Ozian usually embarrassed him, but the circumstances kept him clear, “Please hear my proposition first.”
“The Listener needs to be here wit-”
Listener Zukina cleared her throat, cutting off Zeitev’s voice as if she physically choked him. Rea also ceased hovering her hand over her hip, then glanced over at a nervous Zeitev as she berated him. “Calm down and let him speak Sappinho. Like we talked about this possibility before.”
“As you wish, Listener." He said
The Listener turned her gaze to Idul. Her eyes so piercing that he could hear the non-verbal order to speak in his head. "Right, the Northern Powers landed and seized the port last night, and now they have taken the city so quickly that they’re at the entrance of the tower. The ones carrying the assault are your own people Listener. They are fanatical, they are looting, and they are killing. The Emperor gave me orders to escort you safely to Haradrim should this happen, to keep you safe. We’re not sure how they will treat you after you’ve been our pawn for so many years.” He stepped closer, but then Zeitev gripped the pistol on his hip. He held his hands up continuing forward to try to ease Zeitev. He looked directly at the Listener now, which has always been a haunting experience for him even with her young face and weak stature. “We’ve kept you and your predecessor safe since we’ve been here. There’s no use in harming you now. Please see our side-”
She choked him now with her deep voice, “While you think I’ve been a pawn all this time, the people truly know that I’m just a prisoner in my own home. Your Emperor only kept me alive to pacify me while he converted as much Ozians as he could before he could finally finish me off. I’m needed here to meet my liberators with open arms. I wish to be with my people, and if you take me to Haradrim, then I may never return. I’m willing to go through with the danger”
Idul was impatient, and he could hear the shouts of chaos drawing closer to the tower. The conscripts must have failed to keep them . He placed a hand on his holster and drew his weapon, “There was never a choice in the matter. We have to leave now, and Zeitev lower your pistol as the Listener ordered!”
But he didn’t stand down. While he spoke he heard the draw of Zeitev’s pistol, and their pistols faced each other with fingers ready on the triggers. A few artillery shells hit the side walls of the mountain, causing the room to shake and bookcases to fall over. Rea on the other hand was tense, looking between the three with a hand over gripping her piece.
The Listener waved a hand to Zeitev, “Stand down. It’s out of our control now Admivi, put your pistol down. Are you going to hold off the rest of his men with only one pistol?”
Zeitev grimaced and holstered his pistol, bowing her head to the Sankta, “My apologies, Listener.”
Idul lowered his pistol, and then the Listener stepped around the table to him, “Where to now?”
He watched her chilling and steady gaze for a moment before speaking, “To the tunnels, we can still sneak out of the mountainside to a Haradric platoon just a mile from here. We’ll use a convoy to get there. Are you-”
A gunshot interrupted his speech. He looked down to see blood all over his white uniform, but it was not his own. In front of him, Listener Zukina had an exit wound that flowered out on her temple. Her stoic young face still fixed a stare at him until she dropped to the ground. When she fell to the ground, he saw who the shooter was, Rea had her pistol drawn and pointed at him now. She squeezed the trigger again. She hit his neck, and a few gushes of arterial spray caused him to black out as he gripped his neck in desperation.
Zeitev’s eyes dilated when he found out what was going on, and he drew his own pistol at Rea. He hastened his aim and tried to fire off his whole magazine at her, but the pistol only clicked. He fumbled the pistol chamber back, but it was empty. “You bitch, you emptied it.”
“Don’t worry.” She laughed, aiming her pistol at him. “We’re going to be heroes.”
“Why?” He asked before the bullet went right through his temple.
“This country will be mine. Out of the ashes will rise my legacy.”
When he fell to the ground she hastened to fit the pistol into General Idul’s hand, then dug his pistol out of its holster. She stepped back, gritting her teeth before she put the pistol to her shoulder and pulled the trigger. She fell to the ground too, writhing in pain.
A moment later, the doors to the study flung open. A squad of war-wearied Ozian Partisans eased in with rifles up to clear the room. However they lowered their weapons to be horrified with what they saw.
The sounds of war in Ozi'pol did not even break the silence of this room.
