Artemis sat apoplectic, the world was bored with the perpetual drama conspiring in the East. A tale of a sleeping beast, tucked beneath the shelter of an umbrella vexed with an endless cascade of blood falling over its bowed brims. A man smirking in wicked delight as to his ability to curtail and hideaway his execution and integration camps. The death grounds were set up to enslave a conclave of citizens, but mostly the Uighur...and all those willing to challenge the States limited freedoms of the press and speech.

he imposed curse of boredom provided precedence for the current events: a shit-storm on the horizon... in which they were all now participants of witnessing the beginning of the end. The majority of modern day Rome had been set ablaze by the Boar as a final result. The only sovereign territory remaining held immense stock value for the Indigenous Warriors lands, and would canonize any further potential invasion in the future. Their natural resources were always at risk: hidden deep within their lands of exiled persecution. The realization that an inevitable war slowly crept nearer and Artemis understood that it was her inherited responsibility to prepare to defend what little dignity was left with her Indigenous Warriors. Setting forth each morning and preparing everyone for the final death march: embracing their swan song as they marched together into the darkness. Artemis felt different about this battle though: manically frustrated that she couldn’t articulate the feeling that the end was quickly encroaching. The ominous dense winds kept her wide awake at night and agitated by sleep deprivation symptoms during the day, as though Artemis were left marching to battle: utterly naked and unprepared for any situation.

Artemis methodically paced back and forth near her Golden Fleece and procured her doses of daily news: she felt desperation consume her and swell up from corners deep within her chest. She gained information that fluttered all around her thoughts during the day, tempting her with disorganization as it varied in topics. She found a keen interest in the local affairs of the world leaders and admired everything ranging from their odd choices of haircut...to their personal impact on legislation. One leader that Artemis often mocked almost equivocally to her opinions of the Boar: was a leader known for his similar appearance to an illustrated childhood character of a lethargic bear. It was obvious that the leader bore minimum resemblance to the cartoon bear, as he was neither a bear, nor famous for his confidence to rock a lifestyle lacking in trousers. Still, it would seem that the jokes aboot the parallels shouldn’t have agonized the leader enough to ban and criminalize all images distributed of the childhood cartoon. The dictator used state funds to kidnap citizens, and publicly endorsed eye-gouging to be the next logical alternative: if his subjects disobeyed his tyrannical laws. This idiocy of the leader and his ego-driven actions lead Artemis to prod double the fun, at the expense of the vain man that held his people hostage. There was no denying that the citizens that lived under the rule of such oppression, was saddening and frightening: Artemis would hold her head high and her voice stable: angry on behalf of all the citizens she pitied for being forced to normalize such a bizarre and abnormal situation.

Sleuthing into the history of this beast would lead to be a tedious task, as the past of the land and the culture was often reduced to the prominent wall that stood relic and a red banner that was simplistically decorated with five stars. An accidental foretelling of the future of the brave citizens, as their flag portrayed the citizens declaring and restoring their independence: cornering their corrupt leader into a corner. The issues of the land were presented as mysterious and straight forward all at once, and the citizens often complained aboot the lack of information accessible to them: censorship and the redaction to generic information were the assault the wild and untamable projected upon his own citizens. The citizens grew accustomed to the oppression, and fell in step with his agenda as they lived each day in fear: accepting the loss of the missing information and distracting themselves by preparing for the future. Their folly had been their ability overlook their ancestors: having never taken a second to admit the past, as they forfeited their rights and wished for a better future. These passivizes would prove dangerous in their history, as they were no longer known for their wall: defined be the mass public execution of it own citizens...the brave that protested corruption in a public Square. The images of State officials hosing off the bodies of dead students, families and children became their flag. Powerful waters attempted to cover up the slaughter, but history could not be filtered as long as there existed images that proved their crimes. They had once condemned its citizens with the death penalty...on the fourth day, of the sixth month a mere year after Artemis had been born. The number of deaths were unknown and forever deleted from the minds of their hostage citizens, as they lived in their delusions of greatness and forgot all things that didn’t affect them directly. The story would become notorious for its recentness and it lack of information provided on the death toll, as the citizens fell victim to the fear. The deaths of those citizens would be acknowledged by all the neighboring lands and honored annually, by all of those the held value for life. Artemis felt petrified by how little citizens expressed concern for martial law, and the excuses leaders managed to use in order to flex that particular muscle...for this exact reason. This instance of undisclosed death toll was personal to Artemis, as her Tribe had also fell victim to a public government slaughter: where the masses were “exterminated as a threat”. She knew the nameless rage that pent up within her mind...watching diligently as their deaths were left with no acknowledgment and their graves marked: unknown. Artemis felt disgust, as those in charge of informing the public of this indescribably awful loss of life: fell silent or gave purpose to their actions, as they chalked a government-directed massacre: to be referred to on paper and golden webs, as an unimportant footnote or a simple incident.

Artemis observed the past of this sketchy veiled land: noting the instability of the current dictator and the ineptitude in which his ego terrorized the citizens. This land would always be considered powerful without a doubt, but their National pride was always defined by the cost the citizens often paid for with their own lives. Such a system would prove to be unsustainable and the recurring recent events would prove that democratic reform could be seen as necessary. The events that had occurred at the Square lead the world to see the lengths that their leader would dehumanize them and took splendorous delight in annihilating its own citizens for the turn of a dime. Their polis was corrupt to its core, and the ability to desiccate their planet had reached its tipping point with their help: the captive citizens often slaved away to feed the consumer needs of the entire world. The leader held his posture tall like a male lion protecting his flock within the range of the public-eye, but his actions were as tactless and clumsy like a fainting goat. The cartoon-like ruler often fumbled to justify the need to impose his ignorance and tyrannical views upon his citizens: hiding behind his favorite Lamb. The land became known only for their sweatshops and pious dictator: a recipe for disaster in any situation.

The exclusive rights to revel in anguish was not solely owned or trademarked to belong solely to the Indigenous Warriors: despite what the world told her with ambivalence. Artemis and her family had often held the champion title for having lost their territory to ruthless invaders, and for having given birth to the most evil word in the history of mankind: Genocide. The sense of self-pity often frightened Artemis, as she was conditioned to run whenever she were afraid or feeling threatened. Because of this defense mechanism: the dead-eyed savages often took joy in reminding her of the subhuman status she still held, or labeled her a liar whenever she presented historical data that she had found along her perilous journey. Such irony when the only other citizens that could relate were ones that had once achieved placed their feet upon their astronomical neighbor. Artemis was a registered prisoner of war, and that seemed to put the locals at a disposition to her facts. The same way her coworkers felt whenever the citizens called them frauds or thieves. She’d correct strangers: whenever they barked at her in Spanish, and fell silent when she responded with the fluent tongue of their prized language. She’d learn minimal Spanish in spite of this: informing them in French...that she only knew English and the tongue of the Devil. It was always so weird to have to remind oneself...that they were “a different "colour”, but Artemis would always have to...despite the fact she was half privy to have pale skin in the winter. These citizens demanded justification for her melanin in the span of a moment, and they often prided themselves on their xenophobia. Such devaluing of life would be blunt, or occasionally arise in the form of gas lighting. She had once held public argument with a professor at University: holding her argument as she suggested it were a likely probability that their own government had orchestrated an attack on two famed towers that had left thousands dead. The “Leadership” professor had no empathy for death, and so she declared it could never be true: in front of a jury of scholars. Such an odd anger she had for Artemis: ignorant in her bliss, and unaware Artemis were honest in her concern and conviction. She had only wished to draw a comparison to those events already transpired in the Square: presenting as a possible example of how their government had funded a war. A war that they fought to this day. Artemis had no issue delving into topics of massacres and sacrifices that suggested they should never let their guard down to the male-dominated dictators that held a majority of power over the world. Artemis held little patience for these citizens, as she was always left being ostracized from her peers and demeaned by her professor publicly for her enthusiasm for what she considered a conspiracy without merit. Such moments of public shaming: forced Artemis to crack her neck from side to side, as she sharpened her weapons of silver and gold in an eerie silence. These idiots honestly believed their government cared aboot them enough to spare their lives over their own corporate greed. Yet she was always left being the unlucky one: paying forty-thousand dollars to be publicly belittled at a University on multiple occasions. Artemis knew that she held ground in her worries, and watched as others now asked her for her political opinion: sincere individuals that prove they would always work twice as hard to make that connection with her. In her culture: it was considered rude to hold eye-contact with another, unless it were to cover matters of state and or heart, and so it gave her joy to need people. She was raised to point her voice in an agreed direction in a conversation, and stare at the beauty of nature instead of intensively waiting for responses, and staring into the soul of another. These types of mannerisms can lead to increased honesty and less emphasis on physical self-awareness, as joining in memories and admiring a designated focal point created a better relationship with place. Similarly to the way the people felt: when they had witnessed the two towers crumble into fiery heaps together: they were united by their emotions and ruled by the things they said to one another. These types of cultural differences posed issue: making Artemis come across as rude or barbaric if the participating party needed eye-contact to feel respected or heard. This understanding alone: led Artemis to wake each morning with her emotional guns-ablaze, as she assumed each day would be held in a defensive position: ready to die defending the truth and just wishing to make the most out of her impending Genocide situation.

Next Chapter: [ XV ] Artemis and the King Midas