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Victory Day

Kingdom of Noverin, Rifden Federation

February, 2175

 

Hanna          

                                                                             

Snow blew over the rooftops of the town, shining white in the morning sun. Tiny shards of ice flew into her cheeks, pricking her skin. She exhaled softly, seeing her breath for an instant as the wind swept it away.

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Her family’s keep rose a dozen meters over the three and four-storey buildings that made up the town of Mooncreek. A steady drumbeat rose from below, and people lined the streets before her. She pulled her dark furs tighter around herself.

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“Cold, Love?”

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She was, but she wasn’t going to admit it. Besides, compared to what was going to happen in the next five minutes, the cold was the least of her concerns.

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“I’ll be alright.”

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Her mother was dressed in black furs much like her own, her light hair as bright as the snow in the sunlight. She put an arm around Hanna and squeezed her shoulder. Her little brother and sister, Kilian and Kira, stood at their mother’s far side. As the heir to her father’s barony, she stood apart from them.

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“Good. He’ll be here soon. For now, please remember our men. They’re cold too.”

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Her eyes fell to the lines of soldiers marching down the main boulevard towards the keep, rifles shouldered and faces masked against the cold, bright white in their winter uniforms.

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Her soldiers, one day.

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She smiled and raised her hand to them, hoping their gear was as warm as it looked.

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“Why don’t they wave back?” Kira asked. She had just turned seven, and though she could just barely see over the balcony’s low parapet, she was smiling and waving.

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“It’s tradition,” their mother answered.

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“Is that really such a good reason?” her brother asked, his eyes still on the troops below. Kilian was the middle child, four years younger than Hanna and four years older than Kira. He asked a lot of questions, and Hanna liked that about him.

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“Not always, Kilian, no. For now, just smile and wave.”

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“I can do that.”

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Soldiers continued to file into the square at the base of the keep, turning to face the crowds lining the streets as they came to a halt. Drummers kept the beat as more men marched in. Armored trucks followed them, and Hanna kept an eye out for the tracks. Once they parked, it would be her turn to speak. It would be her first time addressing her people, and her heart fluttered in her chest.

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Her mother touched her ear with one hand, and gave Hanna’s shoulder a tap with the other. “He’s ready, Love. You can begin once the last track parks.”

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Metal clanked over asphalt as the ten tracks of her barony’s mechanized brigade rumbled down the boulevard, turning on the spot unlike the trucks. Hanna cocked her head as she took in their jerky movements.

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Kilian peeked past their mother, giving Hanna a quick smile. “Good luck!”

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Hanna flashed a quick smile back at him, settling her nerves.

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The last of the clanking, smoke-belching, monsters below performed one of their pinpoint turns, and settled into place behind the ranks of trucks and men. The drummers hammered away for fifteen more seconds, their beat changing subtly as they completed their performance.

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Her mother gave her a quick glance, taking her hand from her shoulder. Hanna stood tall on her own, wrapped in her black furs and feeling the winter chill on her ears. Her eyes passed over the crowd again, looking for her friends amongst the audience. She knew they were out there somewhere, but even with her exceptional vision, she wasn’t able to make out faces at this distance.

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“Your microphone is live in five seconds.”

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She took a deep breath and stepped onto the raised dais beside her, standing above her family and looking out over the backs of her soldiers and onto the faces of the townsfolk. Her heart raced, and she slammed her hand over her chest as she raised her voice. This was her town, and these were her people.

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“Mooncreek!”

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The people in the streets below slammed their hands on their hearts in response, the snap even reaching up to the balcony.

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Hanna lowered her hand, steadied her nerves, and spoke.

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“Today commemorates the end of the Third War.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears, amplified as it was through the loudspeakers, and echoing off of the town before her. “It was the darkness that we rose from. It was the darkness that made us what we are. And although it was that hour that forged Mooncreek, forged Noverin, and forged Rifden, we will always rise to be better than the darkness that created us.

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“It was our defenders that saw us through that night. The courage of our men and women held us together in the chaos, even as billions on our planet fell to plague. When help finally reached us over the sea, and brought us into the Rifden Federation, it was thanks to our soldiers that we survived. And it is on this day that we celebrate our victory over the Great Night.”

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The crowd roared below her, and their approval lifted her. She wanted to glance at her mother, but she focused on her people. She could do this. She had them.

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“He’s thirty seconds out,” her mother said.

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She focused on staying calm and getting her timing just right.

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“None of us were alive during the Third War, and I have known peace for all of my life. But our Baron, our soldiers, and our sailors stand ready to defend our town, our nation, and our Federation against the monsters in the dark. Now and always.”

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Four shapes flashed overhead, followed by a deafening boom. She expected it, and didn’t flinch as the blast pressure drove into her back, and blew her hair out of her face as it sent a wave of snow sweeping out before her and over the crowd.

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Her father flew alongside Ogden, Kennick, and Devon, their aircraft less than fifty meters above her, the sonic boom crashing through the town below. The four fighters peeled off, each banking away in a different direction, leaving a conspicuous gap just to the right of her father’s wing. It had been the same every Victory Day for as far back as she could remember, but she never tired of it. Her father and his friends would always make time to return to Mooncreek for the celebration.

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The aircraft disappeared into the horizon, the roar of their engines fading as it echoed across the town and surrounding hills.

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One day, that’ll be me. It’ll be me leading my flight over Mooncreek on Victory Day.

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She turned back to the crowd before her. The roar of their applause was fading, though she hadn’t heard it at first, deafened as she was by the booms.

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“I swear to defend Mooncreek, to live up to the faith you have placed in me, and to ensure that the sacrifice of our fallen was not in vain. I will be brave, and I will be true, just as I know you will be. Enjoy your Victory Day.”

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She snapped her hand over her heart and the crowd in front of her returned her salute, her heart soaring. She stepped back from the dais, the officers below shouting orders and the drummers picking up their steady beat.

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She held her breath, waiting for the signal.

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“You’re offline, Love.”

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Hanna glanced over at her mother for the first time since she’d started speaking. “How’d I do?”

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“You heard them. You did just fine.”

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Hanna smiled up at her mother, who wrapped an arm around her shoulder before turning back to the soldiers marching out of the square.

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“Hopefully they aren’t too bothered that we had them march into the square just to have them march back out again.” Hanna said.

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“I’m sure their day’s only going to get better from here on out. Besides, they got to hear their baroness speak to them for the first time.”

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Hanna laughed at that. “I’ve spoken to soldiers before.”

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“Today, you spoke to them as their baroness-to-be.”

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Kilian peeked over at her from behind their mother. “She’s right, Hanna. You sounded like father.”

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She blushed at that. “Thanks, Kilian. I tried.”

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“Eyes on our soldiers, both of you. But you did do well Hanna.”

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“Thank you.”

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She took a deep breath and took in the wintery scene again. It’d be her town one day. She would do the best that she could for them.

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The trucks began to rumble as they started up and followed the men on foot out of the square, black exhaust belching into the air.

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She raised her eyes to the crisp blue sky above her, scanning for the pinpricks that would mark her father’s flight. Being a baroness was something she would do because she had to, but deep inside, she knew that she would be like her father.

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She was born to fly.

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