Chapter One
The first day of every month.
That was the day the townsfolk of Kaisatein looked forward to. The day they spent the rest of the month preparing for, the day that was always in the back of their minds as they went about their dreadful jobs, or when they were finally relaxing at home.
It was the day of ecstasy, of opulence.
In the first week of the month, the people would talk to one another about preparing for the next one. Oh, one would boast, I don't think I have the energy to put so much effort into the next one. I just don't have the means to anymore! And their friends at the office would nod their heads, and bemoan the same thing. The next event was going to be their worst, and it was meaningless for the rest to put in as much effort too.
But the second and third weeks came, and that was when the private meetings filled their spare time, and between the words spoken was a full fledged declaration of war. Everybody wanted to shine their best on that day, and if it meant having to snatch that honour from the clutches of the ones they called their best friends, it was more than worthwhile.
And right before the final week, there was a common silence that would fall upon the people. A silence that was somewhat sombre, like the kind you would often witness at funerals. There was a silent expectation, and everybody was still.
On the very day itself, the people were woken up by a deafening chime that left the royal palace to all ends of Kaisatein, and it was the first moment that the sole monarch, Lorelo Pompen, would involve himself with the townspeople, like he was one of them. He rang the chimes personally for one solid minute, and there would always be audible gasps of excitement that sounded everywhere.
Like broken clockwork, the people donned on their costumes, painted their faces, put on their tallest shoes before they stepped into the town square to meet all their friends.
It was the day of opulence.
There was no expense spared. It was like Lorelo's treasure chests were split open, and an outpouring of gold came upon the entire community. There were marching bands covered in gold from head to toe, countless buffet spreads on pure silver platters, and year by year, the outfits of the people became more and more outrageous. At first glance, any foreigner who stepped foot into Kaisatein at that day would immediately think that it was a very wealthy capital.
But that could not be further from the truth.
On other days, balls of hair flew from one corner of the street to the other, and occasionally there were people passed out in an alleyway, breathing their last as they begged for a drop of water to soothe their thirst. Cracks marred the surfaces of every brick establishment, and dust would often fall from the beams to the tops of the heads of the people within, but they were always ignored. Until it was yet another building that collapsed, taking with it precious souls.
The truth was, Kaisatein was far from wealthy. In fact, it was barely holding together. There was not enough food or drink to go around for every person, and most of it was hoarded by the people on top, and those who came from another place, having been drawn there by reports of the day of celebration.
Kaisatein was dirt poor, and deep down, they knew it. But it was as if a collective delusion had come upon all the people, because they quietly decided to banish their fears all in one day - the day of celebration. A day where excess was on every street, and boards were put up over the cracks of the walls. A day where so much of the already scant resources was spent, but never did it cross anyone's mind that things should change.
Because the cost of change was higher than that of peace.
Arcia weaved her way through the throng of people, the oversized spikes on their clothes digging into her skin, and the fake extensions crowding her vision of the road ahead. She made sure to minimise any contact with the people around her, to make herself as small as possible, but eyes swiped over her instantly. A scowl formed on their faces as they looked her up and down.
Normal clothes.
She didn't let the glares bother her, and continued to try and pass so that she could get to where her home was. Her sister was waiting for her, and she was bringing some new balls of yarn for her to use.
"You are no foreigner, Arcia!"
The woman had spoken her name with such vitriol, that a ball of spit flew past the side of Arcia's cheek to land on the wall behind her. Arcia barely glanced at her, and continued moving past the heavily dressed people.
Suddenly, she came to a halt. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes wandered up, and she saw Lorelo Pompen standing far away on a raised stage, one person coming up the steps at the side to lay their hands on him.
It was as if a god from Olympus had set foot on the dirty earth to shower the inferior with holy gifts.
His head was covered in a towering, white hat that came to a sharp point at its peak. Lights shone from multiple vantage points to create an ethereal glow around his body, which was covered richly in robes of oxblood and gold. He looked out of this world.
Lorelo was the monarch of Kaisatein, that was pretty much the only thing she knew about him. She wanted to know more, but they lived in worlds that were eons apart. The closest she ever came to him was on every day of celebration, but even then, she was still an eternity away.
Unable to tear her eyes away, she waited as the next person came up to the stage to touch him. She stared blankly, and thoughts ran through her mind. Lorelo was a holy man, and deserving of the worship of Kaisatein. She never did see much importance to the days of celebration, and she believed Lorelo felt the same, but he never moved to take them away.
Sometimes, the only thing that can help a dying person is the lie that their healing is on its way.
Arcia didn't even notice it when her right foot inched forward, and images of her ascending the steps to Lorelo sped through her mind. What would it be like to have the most powerful man of Kaisatein lay his eyes on you? What...
"Lorelo! Monarch of Kaisatein!" a hoarse voice yelled from behind her, coming from an empty area.
Her head snapped back, and she saw a commoner with messy hair, his eyes wild as he held a crumpled piece of paper high up in his hands, waving erratically. He came to a stop, and jumped up and down on the spot as he screamed, but his voice was drowned out by the celebrating horde.
"Lorelo Pompen! Bring the Morosi gang to justice! Here I have damning evidence to bring about their downfall!" the stranger proclaimed, and as Arcia looked around, she was certain she was the only one who could hear him.
What was he talking about?
"Lorelo! Kill the Morosi head!" the man said, and began to sprint towards the horde.
But before he could get there, a bunch of guardsmen with the Kaisatein military insignia emblazoned on the front of their tunics shot forth to the frazzled man and seized him.
"DESTROY MIKAEL MOROSI - " the man shouted before a guard covered his mouth with a gloved hand. Together, the guardsmen pulled the crazed person away from the edge of the town square, away to the back of some buildings. Arcia quickly hid herself behind a pillar as her curiosity got the better of her, and she watched to see what would happen. Her heart raced, her fingertips growing numb. Her eyes opened wide.
And she saw a guard dragging the tip of a sharp blade across the man's throat.
