Life is Fail
What a bunch of miserable and stupid fucking
shit . . . thought Malthaniel, Why
the fuck do I always have to go through this insufferable crap? I don’t go one
fucking stupid ass day and my dumbass family starts spouting stupid shit to
guilt-trip me. Well, fuck that. No more of this miserable crap.
Malthan sneered as he recalled finally letting loose on his awful parents and idiot brother about how much he didn’t care about the country’s religion – the Avestan faith. A bunch of stupid rituals that I always have to fucking bother with and with no appreciation or consideration for myself. “Nobles must show solidarity” blah blah blah. Stupid fucks.
Congratulations! Now, you have absolutely nothing to do today. spoke the voice of his conscience within him, I hope you’re proud of yourself. Dividing your family, disappointing your father, being a jealous ass because your brother excels at managing the affairs of House Amvernox while you’re less than mediocre, and now you’re pushing your best friend away. You’re sure to be missed, if you were to ever pass away.
Oh, shut up, thought Malthan arguing with himself, Arawen will get over it.
Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re a terrible person, came the unbidden thought, what, if anything, positive have you contributed to the world?
Who cares? Came another thought. You’re human trash.
What use is it all if you’ll never be happy?
Malthan growled in frustration. I’ll go to the practice area to blow off steam. It’s not like I have anything else to do right now.
Malthan headed for the golden train; a train meant for use only by the Noble families; he headed for the military training grounds of his own family.
Upon being seated within the golden train, Malthaniel couldn’t help but sigh whenever he saw the stupid level of difference between Mozi, his family’s city-state, and the majority of the other city-states. Malthaniel couldn’t help but sigh in exasperation whenever he observed the rural fields, full of poverty and uneducated poor people compared to the industrialized civilizations of the other city-states. Oh well, poor people will always be poor people; there’s no helping them. They’re just the ignorant and stupid of society. Maybe Father is correct about the strict adherence to religious traditions and keeping steadfast in not allowing our city-state to become a consumer commodity culture. He obviously knows better than me.
Malthaniel walked out of the Golden train to travel to the small military base within the country. Mozi’s ground sector had a lack of immigrant workers and most of the ground sector produced less in terms of agricultural productivity. Malthan had looked into the causes during his days working under the local government amongst various villages. He had found that the Church was fundamentally wrong about laziness and self-centeredness being the primary causes. What he found was the lack of anything better in the Middle Sector to be the primary issue. After all, why work harder if there is no hope of your life getting better as you move-up in the world? Even wages have stagnated. There’s no competitive edge against the rest of the other city-states. If not for the solidified high walls, they would all probably leave. All this because Father has to stick to fucking religion because he believes it’s more important than anything else; what garbage.
Malthaniel stepped off the platform and walked across the expanse of the village to the small military base. He sighed as he recalled how Mozi had virtually the weakest military among the eight city-states and how Donatas had brought up complaints to him. Part of Malthaniel was sometimes glad that he wasn’t the favorite among the two. Despite receiving less attention and affection, Malthan also faced less pressure and no real expectations beyond modest government work for the rest of his life. Malthaniel had always hoped to become a name of renown someday but that was never likely to happen.
What would an idiot like you accomplish anyway?
Malthaniel stopped momentarily to try and hold back his tears before walking forward once more. Only women cry . . .
He walked inside the base, finding only one guard posted, and walked inside. Once he was inside the inner training grounds, that his Father had been forced to build under the President’s orders, he noticed another occupant.
Fuck! I didn’t want anyone else to be here! Why do I have to keep dealing with this shit?
The young golden-haired woman was doing a pathetic job of chanting the magical incantations associated with releasing the magic strikes from her weapon. Malthaniel paused as he finally recognized the nationally famous Persina Lewenhart; the great-great-granddaughter of Crassus Gwaneal Valtheofric Lewenhart and vigorous sponsor of the recent womens rights activism in which she was now campaigning her school friends to protest for more equal rights. Crassus and the Noble Court had allowed a small amount of concessions regarding military training under the acquiescence of self-protection being a positive benefit regardless of war but – from what his father and Donatas had informed him – Crassus had persuaded the Noble Court to block any real efforts to give them training. The law was only effect in paper and only under the understanding that they would learn to protect themselves.
“What are you doing here?” asked Malthaniel in a near-whisper awkwardly. The golden-haired woman hadn’t heard him. Feeling awkward, Malthan became too loud in his next statement. “I asked what you were doing here?!”
The golden-haired girl flinched and whirled to her left to observe Malthaniel. “Donatas? Look, I just didn’t want to go to Church today, alright? I appreciate you letting me use this facility . . . besides you’re out of Church too!”
“No, I’m not Donatas. I’m Malthan,” he clarified, Persina’s eyes widened in surprise. “Donatas let you use this facility? This place is a fucking dump; why not use Gnostican military facilities? They’re the best in the entire country! This place is shit.”
“My grandfather,” spat Persina disdainfully, Malthan raised an eyebrow in surprise. He recalled how Persina always referred to her great-great grandfather as grandfather. “has seen fit to bar me from any attempt at training. I can’t learn to be a better soldier, if I don’t train. I want to get better; now if you’ll excuse me, I have training to do.”
“Well, you’re doing pathetically bad,” chortled Malthaniel. Persina scowled at him. “I mean, seriously, did you never learn the incantations? What has the Peace Lord been teaching you?”
“He’s taught me nothing!” snarled Persina angrily, Malthaniel gazed at her in surprise. “He’s just shut me out. He doesn’t want me to learn so he’s not even trying to. I haven’t been able to learn anything of value and nobody is willing to teach me. That’s why I asked Donatas to let me use this facility. I told him it was over exercise but I really just want to learn.”
“Trying those techniques without the proper instructions and movements could be dangerous,” said Malthaniel nonchalantly, he thought over it a bit. “I could show you some techniques, if you want?”
Persina seemed to perk-up at that offer. “Really? What’s in it for you?”
“Oh, I’m sure you can think of something,” said Malthaniel. Persina shot him a quizzical look. Malthaniel hastily added. “I’m joking!”
“What’s really in it for you?” said Persina calmly.
Malthan shrugged. “Nothing, I just want to get out of going to those shitty parades and find a way to relieve my own boredom while doing it.”
“So a whim?” deadpanned Persina, “Sorry, but I can’t trust that. I’m not about to wait all day to train every week under the possibility that you won’t be showing up because you don’t feel like it.”
“I’ll show up,” said Malthaniel defensively, “besides, what other options do you have? You need to be here to train anyway.”
“I could easily ask your brother for help,” said Persina shrugging. “We are betrothed because of that stupid arrangement that grandfather came-up with, after all.”
“How did he manage to make that agreement?” asked Malthaniel curiously, he wondered how his father could agree to an incestuous union that had been banned by the Avestan Church by Zoroaster himself. There was bound to be protest movements from all social strata once the arrangement became public. “I don’t understand how anyone could think it a good idea.”
“Grandfather,” began Persina, “can’t ship me off to be married to a business man because he owns a monopoly on our family city-state for almost one hundred years now. There is nobody suitable to wed me and pass on the family name within the City-State, no new earnings or profits would be added and it would be viewed poorly if he were to try and take a business associate from the other city-states; there would be questions about which businesses outside of Gnostican that the Lewenhart family now owns and transferring a successful business enterprise to another city-state has an extensive amount of logistical, legal, and political issues behind it.”
Malthan listened in rapt attention; Persina scowled as she continued. “Since I’m the only heir left, and I’m not a man, the only recourse was to allow another Noble family to marry me off, thus preserving the Lewenhart line. The only thing that matters to grandfather and the other Nobles. Fucking bastards.”
“Women aren’t suppose to be cursing,” said Malthaniel yet smiled despite himself. Persina shot him a loathsome look. “Good God, I’m joking! Stop being so uptight.”
Malthaniel gave her a more serious look. “Sorry to burst your hopes, but my brother isn’t going to help. Donatas doesn’t really believe in your political views; he thinks it’s a phase that you’ll grow out of.”
Persina let out an angry growl. “So no one actually gives a shit about what I want? Fantastic!”
“Oh, don’t be that way,” said Malthan tired of her bitchy attitude. “I said I’d train you, got it?”
“You better keep that promise,” said Persina giving him a measuring look. “I don’t like feeling cheated.”