Separation of Lust

DAKOTA’S P.O.V - May, 1933, In the kingdom of Hyrrica

This workload is going to kill me. Every time I finish a load of paperwork, they drop another stack onto my desk—like they’re waiting for me. Sure, I’m used to doing a whole bunch of papers, I’m 20—and in college—but this is too much. Luckily, I’m on my last paper, so I sign it before putting it in the paper stack. After putting away the fountain pen I used back into the drawer, I get up from my chair—grabbing the handbell on my desk, and ring it. In an instant, a servant appears before me.

“Hello, Your Grace. You rang?” she says.

“Hi, Marion! Could you deliver these papers for me? I finally finished them,” I explain.

“Sir, you should be more professional, you know Her Majesty doesn’t like it when you’re informal.” She picks up the stack of papers using magic before making them disappear.

“Okay, but we’re in private, how would she know?” I question.

“You’d be surprised,” she sighs. “Additionally, sir, His and Her Majesty have requested your presence in the throne room,” she states.

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, “Why would they need to see me?”

“I’m not sure. They told me it was urgent. I’d suggest you start making your way there,” Marion answers. She then opens the doors before leaving, making sure to close them.

I wonder what they would need to see me for. I probably shouldn’t keep them waiting. His Majesty can get impatient with me sometimes. On that note, I use my magic to teleport myself outside the throne room. Despite me being somewhat experienced, transporting myself is something I’m still working on. Plus, the bells have got to be the most confusing thing about magic. The dark oak wood doors are decorated with gold motifs, causing them to look enchanted. The door opens in front of me, thankfully, I don’t hit my head on it. The person who opened it is another servant, Percy.

“Oh, wonderful, you’re here,” he says. He turns around and announces my arrival, “His Grace is here!” He steps out of the way, allowing me to walk in. For some reason, my nerves start causing me to fumble with my hands. Despite my feelings, my feet continue to carry me until I get in front of the king and queen. My body, as if it’s rehearsed this moment repeatedly, bows before them.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesties,” I greet.

“Dakota, how nice of you to come visit us!” Her majesty smiles. “The palace feels so empty without your presence gracing us,” she says.

“Don’t butter him up too much, Phoebe. The boy is always slacking off,” His majesty grumbles.

“Yet you’re the one who’s always happy to see him,” she retorts. As Their Majesties bicker, someone clears their throat, causing them to get their conversation back on track.

“Your Majesty, the RO?” Someone from afar mentions.

“Oh, yes! Thank you, Mr. Winsdor,” she acknowledges. “Now, you must’ve heard from Marion or any of the other servants that we’ve asked for your presence,” she starts.

“Of course,” I reply.

“Great, so recently, there have been some…rumors. Normally, we don’t take such rumors seriously, but there’s been plenty of evidence to back them up. So as of today, you’ll be helping the army carry out said order.”

What order is she talking about? “Sorry if I seem a bit unprepared about this matter, but what order are you talking about?” I question.

“Wonderful question, Dakota! The royal order is called ‘Separation of Lust’. The order was mentioned to us by the royal court, and they made some arguments that were hard to dismiss, so we’ve made the decision—along with a couple of neighboring countries—to carry out the order,” His majesty explains.

“What kind of royal order would need attention from other countries?” My arms cross against my chest.

“The ones that get sent straight to the City of Angels!” Her Majesty interjects.

“Wow, that important?” I mumble in awe.

“Yes, it’s that important, Your Grace.” Mr. Winsdor walks over, holding a file of papers, before handing it to me. Once it’s in my hands, I open it and flip through a few pages.

“I still find the name ‘Separation of Lust’ quite stupid. Who are the ‘lust’ you and these papers talk about?” I question.

“The demons in the lower land, Dakota,” her majesty responds.

“What do you mean?” Am I dense today, or is nothing making sense today?

“She’s referring to the rest of the demons in the country, specifically those with ardor blood,” Mr. Winsdor simplifies.

“Oh, so the succubi and incubi? What’s wrong with them?” This is strange, usually Her and His Majesty don’t even care about what’s going on with civilians unless they’re famous, but for an entire subspecies to take this much attention is worrying.

“Well, those miscreants have done it again—they’ve been using magic to worm their way up to the top of society,” Mr. Winsdor states.

“What—why would they do that? They have no reason to.” Suddenly, the court orders in my hands feel disgraceful to me, so I return the file to Mr. Winsdor.

“You might think so, but there’s too much evidence against all succubi and incubi in the continent doing so. So, the matter was taken to the City of Angels—and since our royal court mentioned it, Hyrrica has to expel the demons first before the other countries follow suit.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard anything about this, Dakota. Our court and nobility have been talking about this for weeks,” His majesty adds.

“No one’s told me anything about this! No one’s even mentioned anything court-related around me at all!” My voice raises at His Majesty, but I catch myself and calm down.

“Well, we assumed you knew since that little group you were in disbanded a few days ago,” Her Majesty says.

“Are you talking about the band I was in?” I ask.

“Yes, that one! What was it called again?” Her Majesty wonders aloud.

“The Allures…?” I acknowledge.

“Right! The decisions have been made aware in Qastia, Solicheal, Oajo, and Magrir. Qastia’s pretty big, so I’m sure the news spread around fast,” His Majesty explains. “Remember to be civil with the people—we can’t have them panicking.”

“Oh, God, is that why Jesse immediately left to return home…?” As I mumble, I begin to feel sick to my stomach.

That band only lasted two years, and all my friends in that group were incubi, too. Shit, I should warn them. “Well, um, as lovely as this meeting has been, I should get going… Right now. Good day, Your Majesties.” Quickly, I bow to them before walking away. However, I’m stopped by Mr. Winsdor, who has grabbed my sleeve.

“Sorry to intrude on whatever ‘business’ you may have, but this is a royal order. Their Majesties have already decided that you be sent to Bevoria since their only population is succubus and incubus.” Mr. Winsdor fumbles for two bells in his pocket before ringing them. Two servants appear before us, but they’re at his beck and call. “Servants, please see to it that His Grace gets his uniform and makes it onto the tactical vehicle before the rest of the soldiers are dispatched.” The two servants walk towards me, firmly grabbing onto my arms before escorting me out of the room and towards the one place I dread most—the military camps.

This uniform is uncomfortable, but maybe it’s only like that because I’m not used to it. The camp has been busy since they’ve been told about the orders. I’ve mostly been standing around since I don’t want to get in the way of things and get into more trouble. However, they still require my input. Why—I have no clue. Mr. Winsdor and his servants already told everyone what to do, so I’m unnecessary.

While I’m thinking to myself, someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn to look at them, and it’s a major general. “It’s time for us to go, follow me.”

Who am I to ask questions? I follow him to one of the smaller trucks and get in the back. There’s only about four or five of us back here, so it’s not too crowded. I’m seated near the back of the truck, so the wind outside hits my face. It’s nice though, it reminds me of Springtime back home, so it feels nostalgic. As the truck gets closer to the town of Bevoria, I can hear the sounds of all the people in it. I can smell some of the foods that drift in the air from the bakeries, and hear the sound of the bell tower ringing in the distance, which makes this feel like something out of a movie.

As I’m lost in my thoughts, the truck comes to a halt—just outside town. The other generals in the truck with me step out to direct the other troops. I walk around for a bit, but I’m mostly looking at the different stores Bevoria has. From afar, I can see a flower boutique with flowers on display. Maybe I should get some for my sister, I can see some of her favorite flowers on display!

One of the generals picks me up by my head and leads me back to everyone else. “Just because you’re inexperienced doesn’t mean you can’t learn.” He lets me go, causing me to drop to the ground.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, we can start with different sections of the town before making sure everyone is out. There might be confusion, but we’ll assign neighborhoods and areas to different troops. Household information will be given out so we don’t expel the wrong people,” the major general explains.

“PB, you’ll be in charge of Telaz and Prielder. Take whichever troops you need and get going.” The general who grabbed me salutes before walking off to order people around. “Coal, you and your troops will be responsible for getting the townspeople onto the trains and sending them off.” ‘Coal’ nods before going away to redirect specific troops. Who comes up with these call-signs?

“You!” The major general points at me. “I’m unsure if you have a call-sign, since you’re pretty new. I’ll call you Double B. You’re in charge of the rest of those troops getting through Alaja and Padathal. If you receive any news from the court again, use the telegraph or a messenger. I’ve been assigned to Tezina and Delthic, so ours are nearby, so bring your troops over if it gets the job done quicker.” He hands the clipboard that he has in his hand to someone else.

“Any questions?” he asks me.

“Yes—what’s your name or call-sign? Secondly, I’m not used to talking to the troop—what if I screw up?” I ask.

“My call-sign is Corkscrew, don’t question it, I didn’t make it. Regarding the troops, make sure they’re not abusing power. If they’re acting out of line, you put them in their place—we’re supposed to expel these people peacefully. If any shots are fired, it had better be in self-defense or a direct royal order,” he explains. “Now, get over to your troops and get bossy with them. They’re not going to take you seriously if you don’t get mean, so you’d better look disturbing in the best way possible.”

“Right.” I walk over to my troops, but jeez, this is nerve-wracking.

The dirt on the ground makes walking a challenge—it feels like every step I take, there’s a small stone in the ground that wants me to trip. Suddenly, there is the sound of footprints behind me, so I look back. A messenger is behind me with a piece of paper—he then hands it to me before catching up, so we’re walking together. The paper he gave me is another royal order. “Is this from the court or Their Majesties?” I question.

“The order came from the royal court, but Their Majesties added onto some parts of the order,” he responds.

The royal order reads:

In the Kingdom of Hyrrica, it is our utmost priority that we keep our civilians safe and our army even safer in order to protect the land. A kingdom is not a kingdom without its ruler, its protectors, and most importantly, its people. This royal order will discuss what army personnel will do when expelling those with ardor blood:

1. It is hereby declared that all armed forces in the mainland will be allowed to draw weapons, as threats only unless told otherwise, if civilians refuse to to comply with expulsion. This will be in effect whenever the troops start entering different areas of Bevoria, and then other cities, towns, etc. in the country.

2. Civilians will have to comply with orders made by army personnel and have to be processed after detainment before being put onto the trains or boats that have been made available for the official order.

What the hell?

What kind of royals allow the army to threaten their people? That’s not right, let alone legal—this is bullshit! “Wyatt, don’t listen to this order. I’m not exactly high ranking myself, but this is ridiculous,” I state. His eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Yes, sir…” The troops that have been waiting around for me are quietly talking.

“Right, so listen up, everyone,” I announce, catching their attention. “So, another royal order has been declared, but I’m just going to tell you now—we’re not following it. If civilians refuse, we’re not threatening them.”

Okay, where do we start now? “Wyatt, where should we start—Alaja or Padathal?” Wyatt thinks for a moment.

“We can begin with Padathal, since it’s closer to the train station. Then, we can go to Alaja since it’s closer to the next city,” he answers.

“Great, let’s go, guys.”

This was easier than expected—most civilians were more cooperative than the royal court and their Majesties expected. I’m guessing they saw the other troops that started escorting people to the trains or boats, so they were expecting us. As the last passenger loads onto the train, and I close the door, a breath I didn’t know I was holding in lets out. The train then takes off from the platform, leaving me, Wyatt, and a few soldiers behind.

We then exit the station before heading back through the now-empty streets of Bevoria. I’ve been thinking about this since Their Majesties summoned me to the throne room, but after all these people are expelled, what will happen to the town? There are shops, schools, businesses, homes, and so much more here—is it just going to sit here abandoned? As the rest of the army meets where we started, I go over to a colonel. “Um, excuse me, sir—but what will happen to the town since everyone left?” I question.

“Great question, I’m not too sure myself. I heard the lieutenant general would be given the orders on what to do, but he hasn’t said what we’ll do,” he explains.

“I wonder if we’re going to leave or head back to the palace,” I mumble. The lieutenant general finally appears, but appears to be holding another royal order.

“Sir, what do we do with the town? Have Their Majesties said anything?” the colonel asks.

“They gave me an order, but I don’t know if I can carry this out—morally.” He hands the order to the colonel, who opens the file. He reads through the paper before his face turns into one of worry.

“Oh—um, are they certain?” he questions as he hands it back.

“I mean, who are we to question the royal court—let alone the royal family.” He shrugs.

“What did the royal order say? Did it mention Bevoria?” I ask.

“It does, in a way, don’t worry about it. Get ready to go to Atthal—we’ll catch up with you guys later. It’s better not to stick around for the last order,” he states.

“Is it that bad?” The colonel nods. I’m not fond of questioning authority that often, but this doesn’t feel right. I look at Wyatt, who’s also suspicious, but doesn’t speak up, so we return to where our troops are.

“Alright, everyone, our next destination is Atthal.”