The Kawffalgine States colonized Cheoque in 803, three years before Zivellon Roikert was born there. The colonial administration imposed crushing tax burdens while offering only subsistence level employment in the mines and plantations. Zivellon’s mother had died in childbirth, leaving him to be raised by older siblings who struggled to provide for the family. By his early teens, he had also started work in the mines.
In those days, talk of rebellion circulated quietly, but few had both the resources and the organization to act upon it. Then, when Zivellon was twenty-seven, we heard of the death of Endeck Haloal, and things started to change. People began to more openly express their dislike for the colonists, and anti-colonial sentiment became the norm. Public unrest was everywhere, but people were still largely kept in line by the brutal economic circumstances. However, it was at this time that real armed resistance began forming, though these early groups remained small and ineffective against the colonial enforcers.
It was not until 844, when Saialda approached us with promises of alliance and liberation, that genuine hope emerged. They offered food for our families, weapons for our fighters, and most importantly, the prospect of true freedom from colonial rule.
The Saialdians quietly organized us into fighting units, avoiding the gaze of the watchful, yet now complacent, colonists. It was in one such fighting unit that I first met Zivellon. He was a man of quiet intensity and unwavering commitment to liberation. We quickly became good friends during training, united by a shared purpose and optimism that we’d actually be able to change things, be able to free ourselves from the shackles of our oppressors and earn freedom for our families and countrymen.
The war itself proceeded more smoothly than we had dared hope. There were many battles to fight, and at one point we were forced back by new reinforcements from Kawffalgine. But Saialdian support proved decisive, and we wouldn’t be stopped. During this time we grew closer with our Saialdians comrades, Zivellon even calling a few his friends.
Before long we were standing victorious in Toanthine, the capital of Cheoque, which neither I nor Zivellon had ever seen before. However, we had little time to tour it before receiving new orders to pursue retreating Kawffalgine forces eastward. Our Saialdian commanders explained that colonial remnants were still holding territory and threatening our victory.
We marched east reluctantly, unfamiliar with the land and increasingly uncomfortable with operating so far from home. Fortune provided us with a prisoner who spoke our language and was willing to speak with us. He claimed not to be from the Kawffalgine States, and insisted that we were no longer in Cheoque but had crossed into the neighbouring colony of Kordalon.
This revelation created immediate tension within our unit, as we realized that Saialda had potentially deceived us about both the scope and nature of our mission, and was attempting to use us for its own ends. Although we still believed in the cause, and were not entirely unwilling. Some even tried to speak in defence of Saialda before Zivellon asked our prisoner the pivotal question: “Who controls Cheoque?”
“Saialda, of course,” the prisoner replied.
We stood in shock for a moment, then Zivellon went and confronted our Saialdian superior, demanding to speak with the supposed Cheoque officials directing this campaign. When the officer refused and threatened charges of mutiny, Zivellon pressed for an explanation of our prisoner’s claims.
The Saialdian officer then called on his fellow Saialdian soldiers to back him up, and gave us his brutally direct response: we would continue fighting for Saialda or face execution. Even further questions would be considered treasonous.
So Zivellon killed him. A quick sword duel and it was over. The rest of our unit backed him up, and the remaining Saialdian soldiers fled before our superior numbers. Zivellon immediately ordered us to spread the news and rally the Cheoque forces.
“Tomorrow, we march back,” he declared.
We followed his lead without hesitation, sharing in his fury at the betrayal that had torn away everything we thought we had won. On the return journey we gathered more supporters and fought off a small Saialdian force that attempted to intercept us, all the while spreading word of what we had learned.
Arriving at Toanthine, we confirmed it was indeed in Saialda’s control. They had betrayed us, and taken Cheoque as their own colony. But, they weren’t prepared for the sudden return of an army of enraged Cheoque soldiers.
We rallied behind Zivellon and stormed Toanthine, capturing the Saialdian traitors. After securing the city, Zivellon held a public trial of the traitors, ending in their execution. We felt we had delivered justice, but it wasn’t over yet.
In the following days, Zivellon became increasingly paranoid. His trust seemed to have been broken beyond repair, and he began suspecting everyone of potential betrayal. Allies, subordinates, longtime friends like myself, we were all in his piercing gaze.
While the coup had worked initially, the main Saialdian army had been in the surrounding countryside, and was now preparing to retake the capital. Zivellon worked frantically to secure his power and defend against the incoming threat, but his methods grew increasingly desperate and cruel. He began torturing captives for information about Saialdian plans and leadership, and he began arresting and torturing his own supporters, convinced that we would all eventually betray him as the Saialdians had done.
But despite his increasingly mad and desperate efforts, there simply wasn’t enough time. Two weeks after the coup, the Saialdian Army raided the capital and slew Zivellon. All of his supporters were executed, save the few of us who managed to escape.
Zivellon Roikert, who took betrayal to heart and gave his heart for revenge.
submitted by /u/Avantir
[link] [comments]