Dan Messanisk Arkkesjrnid

[Ayzek]

Halvadag, Lanlania, High Messanic Empire
23 Vintyr 1539

Frederich II was a bold man. He had to be, to ride in an open-air vehicle down one of Halvadag's main streets, glancing solemnly at his subjects and occasionally raising an arm to intensifying cheers. It was difficult to then resist a smile; the power of having so many people at his beckoning was difficult for any man to resist.

The gathered crowd was massive and had been all along the streets and highways the Imperial motorcade had followed. The entire island had seemingly gathered to attend the Emperor's Yul speech and the public Yul feast that came with it. Some had in fact came from the reaches of the island—following the Emperor through his tour of the Lanlanian homeland.

The crowd only became thicker as the street opened into the Grand Imperial Park, across which stood the Halvadag Imperial Palace. The Imperial Guard motorcycles leading the motorcade eased between police barricades, heading down the wide park paths deeper into the park. Within half an hour, Frederich would stand before his people, celebrating Noel and the Faith, Lanlania, and the Messanic Empire as a whole—his speech opening the national week-long Yul celebration broadcasted throughout the empire and beyond.

It'd be a serene, misleading close to decades of peace, a prequel to an era of war.

---

"Gross."

"Sinners."

"Fairies."

Ren shrank in his jacket. "It's cold," he whispered, attempting to ignore the murmurs sent their way. It was harder to ignore the occasional "brushed" shoulder—shoves, really—he received, though he had little choice. Most didn't get through his boyfriend, Dan anyway.

"Very," Dan replied. He took another rude brush, as the two of them moved down the bustling street. Urban Halvadag was bad enough on a regular day; now, the week of Yul and with the Emperor in town, the streets near Imperial Park were loaded, as people headed to the Yul feast or otherwise prepared for a week of heavy celebration.

"We should've gotten everything last week," said Ren.

Dan nodded. "Yeah." Not much else to say. It had been an oversight to not stock up while they could still walk the streets relatively unharassed. Or at least, without being insulted and pushed every few steps. Whether it was the a heightened sense of religious fervor, or simply the conservatives entering the city for the holiday, Yul week was always a difficult time for homosexuals in Halvadag. Especially since the Imperial riksdag forced them to register and openly identify themselves.

At least the identifications made it easier to meet friendly persons, including one another.

The two entered a store with a prominent yellow circle displayed on the window: the symbol of a Makhal-owned storefront. A fellow repressed minority, the Makhal were one of the few groups still willing to do business with them.

"Eh...Ren, Jon, so good to see you two." Anna Lagner, the elderly woman who owned the store with her husband, Gabriel, both spoke perfect Lanlanian. If the hadn't had a Makhal upbringing, and have their family lineage traceable to a Makhal family from Azreae, they would be indistinguishable from "pure" Lanlanians.

"Pretty bold to be out on the streets this week," Gabriel added, studying the two boys—though in their twenties, they would always be baby-faced teenagers to he and his wife—from behind the counter.

"Dan forgot to get toilet paper last week," Ren explained. He stopped by the counter, as his boyfriend wandered deeper into the small store.

"So he says, but he forgot too," Dan defended himself.

Ren ignored him in favor of Anna. "How have you been, Sava?" "Sava" was a Makhal word, grandmother; she was certainly an elderly lady, in her sixties at least.

"Oh, well enough," she answered. "The doctor said it wasn't much to worry about. Just a cold. It's gone away, anyway."

Ren nodded. "That's good." It went unsaid that anything serious would bankrupt them. As registered minorities, they didn't have the healthcare available to most Lanlanians. "I'm glad to hear it, Sava."

"Business has been good," Gabriel added, perhaps reading the sad smile that had taken over boy's face. Or fellows are enough to offset the lost business from those purists. Thank you, boys."

"Well, it's easy to pick who to give your money to when half the stores don't even want you in there," Dan replied drying. He placed the pack on the counter. Ren added a few candies.

Gabriel chuckled emptily. "These are trying times. Actually, Anna and I have been considering selling and leaving Halvadag. Maybe even the Empire. It's becoming too much, and it's only getting worse."

"Aww," Ren pouted, reaching out and embracing the couple. "We'll miss you if you do. Dan and I have been thinking about it too...but it'd be awfully costly."

"Indeed," the old man sighed. "And we're already so old." He glanced at his wife and pulled her closer. "Maybe we'll contact our daughter in Oslanburg. While we still can. I'm sorry, boys."

Dan and Ren looked at one another, and nodded solemnly. The rest of the transaction was silent, before the four traded simple farewells and the two men left. Anna and Gabriel watched them pass by the the front window, back down the way they'd came. The two had children of their own once, a son who'd been killed in a hate crime and a daughter who'd moved to Oslanburg. They'd been born before the empire began sterilizing minorities.