Syboria
In the distant future, a planet devastated by world wide warfare has allowed for the survival of few nations worldwide. In prominence is Syboria, a monarchist country ruled by King William VI. The country has developed with three distinct classes; The Aristocracy holds much of the wealth and all high positions in the king's court. They benefit most from the recent jumps in technology, living in the grander parts of cities referred to as The Polis. The aristocrats also make up the vast majority of clergy in the monotheistic state religion. Under the aristocracy lies the bourgeoisie who are wealthier than the poor, yet do not possess the aristocratic blood necessary to be aristocrats. The bourgeoisie typically have the lawyers, doctors, merchants, company owners, bankers, public officials, and journalists populating their ranks. In efforts to acquire noble titles, some of the bourgeoisie seek marriage with the aristocracy. The bourgeoisie live on the edges of the Polis of the city. The third and lowest social class is the Peasant Class. These are the hard working laborers of the state. They are the factory workers, coal miners, gardeners, servants, maids... They do not have the wealth that the other two classes possess. Most of these people live in homes little more than run down shacks. Electricity and technology are rarities in their homes. The crammed conditions of their Ghettoes (the areas in which they live) often lead to widespread disease, especially with hygiene being more of a commodity rather than an everyday practice. In opposition to the state religion, many peasants share a polytheistic religion venerating the spirits of the ancestors. While the priests of the state attempt to repress the "Cult of Souls", even having it banned. The poor suffer from the oppression of the aristocracy and wealthier bourgeoisie. And it is in this political climate that we set our stage, in the seat of the monarch, Sactava City.
7:30 am, Monday
Seta awoke with the door of his room being opened roughly and the covers ripped from his body which had cocooned itself in the soft embrace of the silk.
"Wake up sleeping beauty! You'll make us both late!" It was his brother, Zeren. Older by 3 years, having just turned 18. He looked very much like his younger brother, except he was much more muscular and taller. His eyes also had a piercing look, like they bore right into your soul. Seta on the other hands was quite scrawny and only 5foot 5. His eyes were soft blue. Seta jumped upright in bed. He didn't say anything. He simply felt the fiery gaze that penetrated his innermost will, making him unable to fight his brother's commands. Seta went to work getting dressed while his brother watched, tapping his foot impatiently. As soon as he finished, Zeren grabbed him by the arm and pulled him downstairs. They were too late for breakfast and so went straight to Zeren's top of the line AutoMobile, a gift from the CEO of Prian Corp. to the Chiel family, the clan name to which Seta and Zeren belonged. "A blast from the distant past!" They called it, being a rediscovery and improvement of technology from the old world. They pristine white paint could never peel or dirty itself, the tires made of a newly synthesized material able to traverse even the hardest of roads, and built in television to view the latest news from THE CAPITOL. In short, it was the perfect gift to the 'perfect' Zeren Chiel. The automobile was his pride and Joy, and his heart softened a bit when it roared to life within the mansion's garage. Seta looked around the vehicle, marveling at it.
"I bet you'd like to drive her, eh?" Zeren asked Seta.
"Um..." Seta began. His brother always tried to mess with him. So now, whenever Zeren spoke to him, Seta tried to think of responses that would incur the least anger or insults. . "So incompetent!" Zeren snapped as he pulled away from the garage and began driving the vehicle away from their home.
"Why was I stuck with a retarded brother?!...." Seta turned away from his brother and watched the world whip by as the automobile sped on. He had heard his brother's tirade time after time and it longer hurt him or affected him in any way, other than boring him to death. It wasn't too long till the vehicle came up to the academy where both Seta and Zeren attended. While most schools were segregated, the Aristocracy and Bourgeoisie attending one school while the Peasant attended the other, this school was one of the few "inter-class learning institutions". Mrs. Chiel, mother of Zeren and Seta and also wife of Mito Chiel the patriarch of the family, insisted to her husband that their children attend an inter class school. There, she claimed, they could at least learn the Great Principle of Harmony, as proposed by THE CAPITOL. As usual, Seta was dropped off in front while Zeren parked his vehicle in the school garage, along with the other privileged children lucky enough to have an automobile. Seta walked through the large doors of the school and quickly made his way to the Locker assigned to him. It was a small indentation in the wall, just large enough to hold his books and school supplies. As Seta pulled out his history book of the Old World from the bottom pile, the rest of his books came tumbling down. They spread around at his feet. Several students glanced his way then walked on. Seta sighed and bent to pick up his fallen books, muttering; "Zeren's right, I'm a good for nothing, retarded, useless..." He trailed off as he saw a worn out boot come into view on the floor. He heard a chuckle come from above. "Do ya needs some help?" Came the voice, heavy with a peasant accent. Seta looked up slowly, seeing the leg the foot belonged to, then the pelvis, the stomach, the chest, and finally... The face. It was dirty, dust smeared across the cheeks. His hair, black and dull. His eyes, darker than coals. Stubble was clearly visible on his face. The worker's overalls and shirt he wore were dirty, much more so than his face, but not filthy. Seta held his breath and nodded to the stranger. He looked to be around Zeren's age, but he couldn't be sure. The stranger picked up the young aristocrat's books quickly, while Seta looked on, helpless and numb. His brother had always talked badly about the peasant class, commentating on their ignorance which he mistook for stupidity. Seta had never been allowed to speak to any, for Zeren was extremely controlling of him. "Th-thank you..." Seta stuttered to the kind peasant. He smiled warmly and extended his hand, "M'names Jameson. And yers?" Seta took Jameson's hand and shook it. "I'm Seta." He smiled back at Jameson. Then he heard his brother's yell from down the hall. "SETA!" He looked back in fear at his brother. Then he looked back to Jameson, "You have to leave!" He squeaked. Jameson looked down at the frightened aristocrat, shaking with fear. "Whutz wrong? Why do I gotz to go?" He asked in confusion. He was concerned for this boy, who seemed absolutely terrified of this older boy walking towards them. The older boy was red in the face and he roughly grabbed Seta. "Z-zeren, I was, I was just-" "Save it punk! I'll deal with you later!" Then he turned and looked at Jameson. "YOU, peasant, stay the hell away from my little brother. Understand?" Jameson looked at Zeren with a blank stare and said, "Yessir." A small crowd had gathered but Zeren pushed through them, dragging Seta along with him.
The ride home after school was extremely quiet. Zeren barely spoke, only to ask Seta how his day went. "Good" was all he said. Seta fidgeted in his seat, he knew his brother must be planning something. He just didn't know what. Today was his birthday, so he hoped that Zeren remembered and decided to take it easy. He knew there'd be no celebration. Unlike Zeren , who was the favorite, Seta was ignored by both parents. Zeren always got the big party and presents, Seta was lucky if someone remembered. Zeren smiled at Seta, who only gave him a weak, nervous smile in return. The automobile pulled into the garage connected to the large mansion where they lived. Being aristocrats of particular prestige, their home was an enormous structure with many floors and rooms. Although both Zeren and Seta knew the whole home like the back of their hand, a stranger could easily become lost in the house. Zeren put his arm around Seta. The blood from Seta's face drained quickly. He understood now the reason for Zeren's sudden niceness. Always, always did he do this before doing that. Numbly, Seta allowed Zeren to lead him wherever Zeren wished. He saw no point in fighting, Zeren would do it anyway and then he'd come out with bruises and cuts. Better to just lay there and be like dead. Seta was guided into Zeren's room. It was large and spacious, like all the bedrooms. It was painted the color of steel, as he so admired industrial power. Seta was pushed onto Zeren's bed ever so gently. Onto the silky and fluffy mattress. Zeren laid on top of him and roughly mashed his lips against those of his little brother's. And then Zeren raped him. ***************** Seta lay scarred and bruised, the former mentally the latter physically. It was always Zeren custom to always kick Seta out his room after his despicable act of familial betrayal. After all, weren't siblings supposed to love and care for each other? Zeren did neither, he only hurt and controlled his younger brother. But Seta had grown used to the abuse. He hated it no less and never would forgive Zeren, but he believed himself hopeless in his situation. His parents were constantly on "trips", where he did not know. Even when they were home they hardly paid much attention. Zeren was always doted upon. Seta didn't think his patents would've even blinked if he revealed what their "Star" had done. So he silently laid in his own bed, door closed and light out. The darkness surrounded him and comforted him. No one else understood him as the darkness. The Darkness did not judge him, or beat him, or rape him. It was there, holding him in it's embrace until the sun's rays chased the darkness into the corners. While he lay there, he thought about many things. But it always came back to the same thing. Despite Zeren's sexual abuse, he did think men were beautiful. The young stars of films captivated him the most. Their charisma, charm, and muscle. Once, when he was much younger, Seta had been taken to see a film with his family. Largely ignored until they were back into their carriage (the use of automobiles was of a more recent phenomenon), Seta mentioned he thought the lead man dashing. "Don't talk such a way boy!" His father grew red in the face and Seta slumped in his seat. But his mother merely giggled and said, "Oh how cute. He has now had his first crush!" Seta's father said no more, but refused to even glance Seta's way. Seta understood now that some people weren't very approving of homosexuality, he was convinced his father was just such a person. His mother, however, he deduced to be the opposite. Much to her husband's displeasure, the mistress of the Chiel household had many a male friend who didn't quite match her husband's ideal of men. Seta didn't know who to follow, both ignored him. So, instead, he chose to do nothing. And that's what he did, until the sun came and chased away the darkness. ************** Seta climbed out of bed at 10:00 am the next morning. He had no school as it was a Saturday. He slipped on some clothes, slowly and tenderly. Down the stairs of his large home and into the kitchen. He found some cold chicken in the refrigerator took it to the dining room. He slowly ate in silence, drinking a glass of milk. Breakfast finished, he went back up to his room and lay back on the bed. Zeren was nowhere to be seen and the servants were being especially quiet that morning. He figured Zeren was out with his friends or doing something. Seta didn't have any friends. He never spoke to any classmate, making most people think he couldn't speak at all. In fact, he could be quite eloquent when he tried. But he avoids it all costs, afraid that he'll say something wrong. Zeren had instilled such fear since Seta was young and it's now leaked into all interactions with other people. Seta often thought about himself on days such as these. He thought in what direction his life would go. Zeren would inherit their father's aristocratic title and the fortune. Would his parents even bother to force Seta to marry? Seta sighed and rolled over in his bed, then cringed. Zeren had been extra rough and bruised him. Seta drifted away into uneasy sleep, worries plaguing even his dreams. ************** Monday Morning. Seta woke up without Zeren's customary wake up call. He dressed quickly, noting that his bruises had, for the most part, healed. He was grateful, not wanting to go through the day in constant pain. Seta walked down the staircase and made his way into the dining room. Breakfast had just been served and he ate heartily. Zeren's plate, however, remained untouched. The head maidservant, Ms. Comfrey, walked in from the kitchen. She wasn't old, but not young either. She had her fair share of wrinkles on her creamy white face. Her eyes were of dull brown and her eyes the coal black so common amongst the Peasant class. She wore a black dress that reached to her ankles and buttoned from mid torso to throat. She spoke then, in a mock-aristocratic accent: "Well, is master Zeren coming for the breakfast I so painstakingly prepared to his majesty's formula?" Seta giggled and Ms. Comfrey smiled. "I'll go see what he's up to." He ran up the stairs and stopped just short of the door to Zeren's room. Seta knocked once, then heard and a moan of discomfort coming from inside. "Zeren?" He asked worriedly as he cracked the door open. The room was dark, the only light coming from the hall. Seta could see Zeren was under the covers, hiding even his head. He approached his older brother's bed solemnly and gently touched Zeren's shoulder. Zeren jerked away, the cover coming off in the process. Zeren looked like crap. "Are you okay?" Seta asked. "Does it look like it?" He snapped back. "Sorry...." Seta looked down at the floor and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I'm sick." Zeren croaked. "A cold." "Oh..." He replied. Seta looked at his brother for a few moments before walking out and closing the door behind him. Zeren blinked, rolled his eyes, then fell back asleep. After informing Ms Comfrey that Zeren was sick and could not go to school, Seta was told he had to use the public transportation bus to get school. "Now hurry! The bus will be gettin' do da stop soon!" Ms Comfrey let her peasant accent come out again. Seta quickly moved out of the mansion and beyond its outer walls. He walked, almost ran, to the intersection of roads on the edge of his neighborhood. Beyond he could see the scattering of homes belonging to the bourgeoisie and even farther still, the shacks of peasants. Only one other person wait at the stop, another aristocratic boy. He was a year older than Seta and had been good friends with Zeren until his father had died. He was quite close to him and closed himself up at his passing. When Seta arrived, he expected to be ignored. But the boy, whose name was Damien, took notice. "Hi... Seta." He said, smiling weakly. "Hello Damien." "Um, how's Zeren?" "Uh, sick." "Oh... Tell him I said I hope he gets better soon." With that the bus arrived. Damien and Seta boarded the bus and found a seat together in the front. Damien smiled at him, and as the bus lurched forward, Seta thought; Perhaps I've finally got a friend. and smiled back.