13-03-2025, 08:17 PM
Revenge is a dish best served cold
![[Image: iccZRxVm.png]](https://i.imgur.com/iccZRxVm.png)
Villa degli Aranci, Pontelasa, Istalia.
Saturday 12 December 5625, 21.43.
The evening air was pleasantly cool under the portico of the Villa degli Aranci. The white columns stood out against a sky still streaked with orange and purple to the west, while the sea breeze brought with it the salty scent and sweet aroma of orange blossoms. Alessandro, standing by the balustrade, turned the glass between his fingers, making the cold limoncello clink against the glass. His father, the Emperor, sat in his favorite wicker chair, his knees covered by a light blanket, his face hollowed out by tiredness, but lit up by a rare satisfied smile. On the table next to the chair two empty coffee cups.
The Regent, before joining his father on Alaria, had, as his final official act before the summer holidays, signed the Legislative Decree, approved fifteen days before by the Congress, formalizing the cooperation agreement with South Dovani for the transfer of 5,000 Solentians.
The Emperor moved his head slowly, almost savoring the moment. “And so, one after the other, they line up to recognize us.” A satisfied grin touched his lips as he shook the glass, observing the yellow milky liquor. “I wonder how they’re eating their heart out in Kafuristan.”
Alessandro let out a low laugh, smoothing his beard with a slow, thoughtful gesture. “Imagine in Deltaria!
That snake of a Thaller probably broke a glass in anger… unless he had some poor devil shot!”
Mattia burst into a hoarse laugh, almost a cough. “The Thallers… what a walking disgrace. They are parasites, and in addition to crawling in this or that state to bite him in the neck when it's weakest, they are also one crazier than the last...”
Alessandro smiled, but in his eyes shone the coldness of political calculation. “Inevitably, however, they ended up kicked out wherever they went, the problem with that dynasty is that they are like weeds, you can never completely eradicate them”
Mattia nodded slowly, bringing the glass to his lips. “But... maybe that's the only thing we have in common: we know how to adapt and survive as the time passes... but that's it! Today we toast with an iced limoncello at home, in a land that we can truly call ours and of which we are a part, a land where we can enjoy the concrete and substantial support of a people, something like this the Thallers can only dream of, without truncheons and smoke bombs they wouldn't even be able to manage a condominium"
They toasted, laughing again. But then the silence stretched between them, and with it the weight of more concrete problems.
Alessandro was the first to speak, his voice the lowest “And what about the Majatrans? The refugees will leave, but...”
The Emperor sighed, placing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Yes, the refugees will soon be repatriated or resettled, this chapter will be closed, but here the fracture remains”
Alessandro nodded, his eyes fixed on the long shadows that were lengthening in the garden. “The Majatrans... in the end, 90% of them you don’t even realize they are Majatrans, but there are many who think that in the end they will never be one of us” he sighed, swatting away with one hand a mosquito that was buzzing near his ear before speaking again “fortunately unlike somebody” the reference was clear “we are not a factory of psychopaths”
Mattia looked at him for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “No, we’re not, but… we both know which way is the right one. It’s not integration, or even peaceful coexistence. Let's call that way by the politicians and in awareness campaigns. It’s assimilation, which is what has inevitably been happening for a long, long time”
Alessandro ran a hand over his beard, thinking. “Assimilate and integrate… semantics aside, the line between the two is blurry. It’s not a question of rights or coexistence, it’s a question of identity. And identity isn’t a dress that you change at will, it’s something that’s shaped, generation after generation”
Mattia took a deep breath, letting the breeze fill his lungs. “Yes, it took generations in the past and it will take more, but assimilating them, pushing them to be like us, has saved us from ethnic conflicts, as has knowing how to welcome and adapt, perhaps changing superficially, but remaining the same deep down. But when sectarianism increased, when their identity was different and alien and when the Istalians did not know how to adapt, in those moments Istalia suffered”
Alexander nodded, the Emperor remained silent for a moment before taking another sip “It’s a fine line, it’s all about nuances, but the truth is that it worked… and it will work again, history teaches us: Istalia has known moments of difficulty, it has seen people come and go, but those who remained, in the end, became Istalians and their children even more so. With time, it will no longer be a problem”
The Emperor finished his glass in one gulp, then put it down with a decisive gesture. “With time, the most radical and traditionalists will disappear, their children will grow up as good Istalians, indistinguishable from the others, and it will happen again, generation after generation, with all due respect to Deltaria, Kafuristan and those who still believe that bullshit”
Alessandro smiled slightly. “Let’s just hope that, once and for all, we can definitively put the tombstone on Quanzar’s grave”
The wind blew harder, moving the light curtains of the porch. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the breeze carry away the last words. Alessandro twirled again the glass between his fingers, his eyes lost in the darkness that had began to envelope the gardens.
It was Mattia who again broke the silence, his voice lower, heavier “But that tombstone won't settle on its own” He turned slightly toward his son, his gaze steady. “It shall be us, and the country, with our efforts, who will plant it once and for all. And to do that, we must be ready, ready to face the enemies, ready to fight if necessary! A people-an Army, this we shall be!”
Alessandro nodded slowly, stroking his beard with a thoughtful gesture “I know, and I also know that those enemies will not stand still and wait”
The Emperor let out a heavy breath, almost a snort “Indeed! And I don't just mean those who attack us from outside. Quanzar isn't just an idea, it's a poison and as long as there are men willing to believe in that madness, we will never be safe”
The Crown Prince remained silent, listening. The Emperor leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair.
“Starting with the traitorous dogs of that… "government in exile"” The last words came out with disgust, as if he were burdened by the mere mention of them “And than the Ahmadi State! Those rats have had time to plot and poison the name of Istalia long enough”
Alessandro looked down at his glass, it was alomost empy, his thumb running slowly along the rim, then he looked back at the Emperor “Our resolve must be unyielding and let nothing stand in our way Father!”
The Emperor didn't answer immediately but he stared out to sea for a moment, his face impassive, then he spoke with a coldness that left no room for interpretation “Yes! The secret services will have to do their duty. From now until the completion of the work, the repatriation for the trial... or better yet the elimination of the traitors as well as beheading the Ahmadi State of his filthy leadership shall be a priority! It doesn’t matter how long it takes, it will happen, when they least expect it. Let them believe the danger has passed, let them believe that we have forgotten their betrayal, let them grow complacent… surely, I will no longer be here to raise a glass to victory… but in the end, it will happen!
Alessandro took a deep breath, then he emptied the glass. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but full of determination.
“Then so it shall be”
The wind blew harder, moving the light curtains of the porch. Neither of them spoke again, enjoying the breeze and the silence of the evening. Then the Crown Prince took the bottle and refilled the glasses.
“To Istalia!”
The Emperor raised his glass with a final, weary smile. “To Istalia!”
Villa degli Aranci, Pontelasa, Istalia.
Saturday 12 December 5625, 21.43.
The evening air was pleasantly cool under the portico of the Villa degli Aranci. The white columns stood out against a sky still streaked with orange and purple to the west, while the sea breeze brought with it the salty scent and sweet aroma of orange blossoms. Alessandro, standing by the balustrade, turned the glass between his fingers, making the cold limoncello clink against the glass. His father, the Emperor, sat in his favorite wicker chair, his knees covered by a light blanket, his face hollowed out by tiredness, but lit up by a rare satisfied smile. On the table next to the chair two empty coffee cups.
The Regent, before joining his father on Alaria, had, as his final official act before the summer holidays, signed the Legislative Decree, approved fifteen days before by the Congress, formalizing the cooperation agreement with South Dovani for the transfer of 5,000 Solentians.
The Emperor moved his head slowly, almost savoring the moment. “And so, one after the other, they line up to recognize us.” A satisfied grin touched his lips as he shook the glass, observing the yellow milky liquor. “I wonder how they’re eating their heart out in Kafuristan.”
Alessandro let out a low laugh, smoothing his beard with a slow, thoughtful gesture. “Imagine in Deltaria!
That snake of a Thaller probably broke a glass in anger… unless he had some poor devil shot!”
Mattia burst into a hoarse laugh, almost a cough. “The Thallers… what a walking disgrace. They are parasites, and in addition to crawling in this or that state to bite him in the neck when it's weakest, they are also one crazier than the last...”
Alessandro smiled, but in his eyes shone the coldness of political calculation. “Inevitably, however, they ended up kicked out wherever they went, the problem with that dynasty is that they are like weeds, you can never completely eradicate them”
Mattia nodded slowly, bringing the glass to his lips. “But... maybe that's the only thing we have in common: we know how to adapt and survive as the time passes... but that's it! Today we toast with an iced limoncello at home, in a land that we can truly call ours and of which we are a part, a land where we can enjoy the concrete and substantial support of a people, something like this the Thallers can only dream of, without truncheons and smoke bombs they wouldn't even be able to manage a condominium"
They toasted, laughing again. But then the silence stretched between them, and with it the weight of more concrete problems.
Alessandro was the first to speak, his voice the lowest “And what about the Majatrans? The refugees will leave, but...”
The Emperor sighed, placing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Yes, the refugees will soon be repatriated or resettled, this chapter will be closed, but here the fracture remains”
Alessandro nodded, his eyes fixed on the long shadows that were lengthening in the garden. “The Majatrans... in the end, 90% of them you don’t even realize they are Majatrans, but there are many who think that in the end they will never be one of us” he sighed, swatting away with one hand a mosquito that was buzzing near his ear before speaking again “fortunately unlike somebody” the reference was clear “we are not a factory of psychopaths”
Mattia looked at him for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “No, we’re not, but… we both know which way is the right one. It’s not integration, or even peaceful coexistence. Let's call that way by the politicians and in awareness campaigns. It’s assimilation, which is what has inevitably been happening for a long, long time”
Alessandro ran a hand over his beard, thinking. “Assimilate and integrate… semantics aside, the line between the two is blurry. It’s not a question of rights or coexistence, it’s a question of identity. And identity isn’t a dress that you change at will, it’s something that’s shaped, generation after generation”
Mattia took a deep breath, letting the breeze fill his lungs. “Yes, it took generations in the past and it will take more, but assimilating them, pushing them to be like us, has saved us from ethnic conflicts, as has knowing how to welcome and adapt, perhaps changing superficially, but remaining the same deep down. But when sectarianism increased, when their identity was different and alien and when the Istalians did not know how to adapt, in those moments Istalia suffered”
Alexander nodded, the Emperor remained silent for a moment before taking another sip “It’s a fine line, it’s all about nuances, but the truth is that it worked… and it will work again, history teaches us: Istalia has known moments of difficulty, it has seen people come and go, but those who remained, in the end, became Istalians and their children even more so. With time, it will no longer be a problem”
The Emperor finished his glass in one gulp, then put it down with a decisive gesture. “With time, the most radical and traditionalists will disappear, their children will grow up as good Istalians, indistinguishable from the others, and it will happen again, generation after generation, with all due respect to Deltaria, Kafuristan and those who still believe that bullshit”
Alessandro smiled slightly. “Let’s just hope that, once and for all, we can definitively put the tombstone on Quanzar’s grave”
The wind blew harder, moving the light curtains of the porch. Neither of them spoke for a moment, letting the breeze carry away the last words. Alessandro twirled again the glass between his fingers, his eyes lost in the darkness that had began to envelope the gardens.
It was Mattia who again broke the silence, his voice lower, heavier “But that tombstone won't settle on its own” He turned slightly toward his son, his gaze steady. “It shall be us, and the country, with our efforts, who will plant it once and for all. And to do that, we must be ready, ready to face the enemies, ready to fight if necessary! A people-an Army, this we shall be!”
Alessandro nodded slowly, stroking his beard with a thoughtful gesture “I know, and I also know that those enemies will not stand still and wait”
The Emperor let out a heavy breath, almost a snort “Indeed! And I don't just mean those who attack us from outside. Quanzar isn't just an idea, it's a poison and as long as there are men willing to believe in that madness, we will never be safe”
The Crown Prince remained silent, listening. The Emperor leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair.
“Starting with the traitorous dogs of that… "government in exile"” The last words came out with disgust, as if he were burdened by the mere mention of them “And than the Ahmadi State! Those rats have had time to plot and poison the name of Istalia long enough”
Alessandro looked down at his glass, it was alomost empy, his thumb running slowly along the rim, then he looked back at the Emperor “Our resolve must be unyielding and let nothing stand in our way Father!”
The Emperor didn't answer immediately but he stared out to sea for a moment, his face impassive, then he spoke with a coldness that left no room for interpretation “Yes! The secret services will have to do their duty. From now until the completion of the work, the repatriation for the trial... or better yet the elimination of the traitors as well as beheading the Ahmadi State of his filthy leadership shall be a priority! It doesn’t matter how long it takes, it will happen, when they least expect it. Let them believe the danger has passed, let them believe that we have forgotten their betrayal, let them grow complacent… surely, I will no longer be here to raise a glass to victory… but in the end, it will happen!
Alessandro took a deep breath, then he emptied the glass. When he spoke, his voice was calm, but full of determination.
“Then so it shall be”
The wind blew harder, moving the light curtains of the porch. Neither of them spoke again, enjoying the breeze and the silence of the evening. Then the Crown Prince took the bottle and refilled the glasses.
“To Istalia!”
The Emperor raised his glass with a final, weary smile. “To Istalia!”