Diaries of a Simki - Introduction
It has been nine eras since the creation of the Chantry calendar, so called the Gilded Era for the unprecedented wealth the Neisaci saw. For us though, it was the era they came. I remember that day well, the sun was setting on the ocean horizon, the water an ebullient orange, mixed with flakes of gold and auburn. I sat on the beach, taking for granted the civilsation behind me, the one we knew. The brows of their ships were not visible against the giant lazy sun, not until they were close to the harbor. At first there seemed to be only a few, maybe a trading fleet. But the rest were cloaked by a force we did not know of until they showed us, magic.
I lived in, and I guess I yet do live in, Bridgeport, the capital of the U.S. The United Simdom was formed about 900 years ago, but I guess that really isn't important now. Down the country road a bit lie the suburbs, Sunset Valley, and to the east, a mountain range nestling a rural valley, Twinbrook. Bordering all our lands is the Simantic Ocean. That's where we first saw them. There are other cities and areas, but you aren't really here for a geography lesson. Fat lot of good it does us now, the Neisaci reshaped the land to their liking with their magicks. Even the air smells different, sweeter I suppose, but repression is repression.
Not much is known about our subjugators. They came in force from their homeland, Neisacan, a name which has extended to and taken over the United Simdom. The citoyennes of the U.S., the Simki, never really stood a chance, not up against magic, a force we didn't recognise. They call us natives now, except those that bent the knee. They call that lot fealtors, loyal to the crown. We still like to think of ourselves as the citoyennes, though never in front of the Neisaci.
The Neisaci is divided into Neyreens, each headed by a Neyrn and his or her family. At the head of it all is the Empress, Ashelia Bal'Neisacan. The royal family normally resides in the new capital, Dalmasra, which is a bit inland from where we are now, the port city of Yonkori. Yonkori is split into three Neyreens. To the north, between the tall peaks of the Zenron Range lies the mountain Neyreen of House Zulan. They control most of the trade and commerce routes in and out of the city. The Zulans and their Neyreen are a stout and rigid folk, looking down on the city from atop their homes. By the port lies the Neyreen of House Lanark. A decadent lot, rich from their control of the area and eager to show it, their Neyrn controls the harbour lands. Richest of the Yonkorin Neyreens and closest to the inner city, the Lanarks control most of the commerce into and out of the city. And to the east, amidst the dense forest of Jenforn lies the rural Neyreen of House Rikarn. A close to nature folk, they are hardly seen outside the boundaries of the forest and control most of the farmland in Yonkori.
And of course, in the centre of it all is the summer palace surrounded by the commerce district, The Reserve. Most of the fealtors live here along with many of the less wealthy Neisaci. And to the outskirts of that is where we are now, the … not-so-wealthy area, the Natrium, where most of the Simki were forced after the occupation. I would not call it a slum though, we Simki go to great lengths to maintain the area in a clean and developed state, somewhere where we can remember our culture, the life we once knew.
My name is Nore, well… no it's not, but I guess we both knew that. Only a right moron would use their real name writing these. My story begins 5 years after the Neisaci came and our land was reformed and renamed to Neisacan, in the 144th year of the ninth Era of the Chantry. We are now restricted from calling ourselves by the name Simki, and are referred to simply as the natives. But when they aren't looking, and their ears are turned from us as they often are, we call each other by a different name, a name we once took for granted and now hold dear, citoyenne, which means comrade in the old tongue. The resistance movement, of which I am definitely not a member, took hold 2 years after the coming. They called themselves the Glorylost. The Neisaci had set themselves up in every corner of the land, establishing a new order as well as a new belief system under their Chantry. Their rules and ways are enforced by an elite guard under direct command of the royal family, the Judicars.
It was a glorious summer that year, and even the Glorylost could not cull the lethargy risen from the warmth of the day. The royal family arrived at the summer palace early that summer, hosted by the eldest of the Lanarks, Edrion Bal'Lanark. Everywhere you looked was a feeling of resigned content. But soon enough things spiraled out of control. The Emperor who brought the Neisaci to our land vanished. After a month the news arrived even to the Natrium, and the Chantry was forced to crown the infant heir, Empress Ashelia. Almost immediately the noble Neyrns began competing for power and influence, eager to take advantage of the babe at the throne.
At the same time, the Glorylost's eyes shot wide open. If you are reading this citoyenne, it is the time of a new tide, a time where the torrents of anguish and longing will be quelled and the waves of hope and glory arise, if you are reading this citoyenne ... now is our time.
