Speeding through the highway was the last thing that Johann had wished to do in preparation for the party.
He had already spent a fair amount of time in putting out the fire of his own paranoia regarding the safety of both Ethan and to some extent Anastasia. He recalled back to the time when his paranoia that reached such a height that he went through the extra effort of making sure surveillance cameras were also installed in the house.
But to his dismay, the terrible quality of the footage made it neigh-impossible to accurately point out the distinct features of a person and it also led Anastasia to reprimand him. Although it was far too expensive to be worth the equivalent of trying to find a gold bead in heaps of sand, it was ultimately better than the off chance of being unable to survey the surrounding at all from a distance and besides, he never found the idea of being scolded by Anastasia anything but endearing.
He could now easily witness the glamour of the federative skyscraper spanning over a thousand feet above the ground, it had been a stable landmark of Old Magshire for decades.
He wondered whether the new capital which had rummaged the nation's pockets to oblivion would ever reach the same influence that Old Magshire had, sure it seemed lavish and overly symmetrical with its architectures and streets that promised luxury to its tenants, yet it lacked the touch that made it feel connected with the humane sentiments that Johann had come to live through till normalcy in the streets here.
The most prominent of which would be the government's decision to prohibit even the slightest hint of the slums or the lower districts in the region. This was seen with a mixed response by the people of Marlen, the negative response originating from the working and the poor class and the agreements flooding, obviously from, the richer men of the country and parliament.
Johann found the idea instinctively repulsive, they hadn't put the slightest effort to conceal the conspicuous segregation, as if awaiting the time the country would have to accept it as fate—to think that what was happening was bound to happen.
Resting aside the moral fallacies with which the government was barely operating, he was starting to slow down as he approached his destination.
The entrance had been decked with red and white roses and tapestries of transparent white cloth which complimented the golden gate.
It was about time he got this over with.
Fixing his black tuxedo that was ran down with white stripes, he exited the car and headed for the entrance, with no one present at the parking lot itself and with the large numbers of cars he sheepishly made his way to a guard sitting in a metal chair with his eye lids barely open.
"Do you work here?".
He slowly opened his eyes and when he took in the picture of a man dressed in such an attire he almost immediately stood up from his seat and bore his eyes directly into Johann's. The eyes didn't hold any regret in them, they were flushed with an acceptance like he was guaranteed to be fired, "Yessir, I work here alright."
With another glance to his surroundings, Johann bore into his pockets and out emerged two crisp notes and handed them to the man who was bewildered with the situation happening in direct contrast to his own pessimistic expectations.
"Whaddya need me to do sir?"
"You see that car over there?" He unleashed his right arm from his pocket and pointed toward the car, "Make sure no one gets close to it, and if they do make sure to report to me who they were. I'm trusting you with this." He added.
With vigorous nods, the guard took charge attentively by first approaching the car and surveying its surroundings before returning to his seat.
Johann took one more glance at the guard before finally entering the establishment, The Empirical Douglas State park, which had been completely rented out for tonight's occasion.
What he saw was the large park which had been previously swarmed with people every second now dwindling in the amount of people that roamed in it—but they were not few.
Approaching the crowd which gathered at the central region of the park, he came to a great view of the flowing river and a large stage to gawk at, it was a pleasantly comfortable location to spend one's night.
The idea of a quiet walk through the large area with Anastasia, undisturbed and uninterrupted by the doings of the world. Such an idea though, was a fantasy, it truly was because the true reason behind the occasion never planned to hold such tranquil moments in the first place.
He was one to walk into traps, especially traps he knew that he couldn't avoid because it was simply wiser to play a game of cat and mouse than to unanimously declare yourself a dead man. But he had made sure to never allow the sight of his family near any of these political gatherings or meet ups, he'd rather be shot in the foot than allow Anastasia and both Ethan and Reina roam around such a place with off chance they are taken note of by the other party members and worst to worst case exploited and used as leverage.
He could clearly imagine the prospect of someone akin or literally, Thomas arriving with a charismatic smile and greeting them all jolly only for him to appear at his house the next day, this would be no different than to spit in the image of Johann as a father and a husband.
A single hand raised in his field of vision not too far away from him which broke him free from his harsh rumination and forced him to make his way to the table.
"Has the world been treating you fairly mate?" A breathy voice inquired. It belonged to the annoyance influx of a man with certain accent he couldn't quite put his finger on,
"Hannes, it'd be better if you didn't smoke that gigantic pipe here. You're already frying your liver, don't fry mine as well." He sat down opposite to the man.
"Ohh? And which lad taught you that? From avid smoker to a bloody family man."
"I was just blessed enough to meet the right person, that won't happen to you so better try to do something yourself."
"HARSH! What kinda woman was swooned by a lad like you?"
"An exceptionally beautiful one, the most beautiful in the world in fact."
With a grin, Hannes put out his pipe and set both his hands on the table.
"So? Whatcha here for mate?"
An exceptionally pretentious accent, Johann doubted whether it was actually real or not but he found it best to keep his mouth shut and let personal jabs wait for people that could actually found it palpable and deserved the attention for it.
"Where is Mr. Campbell?" Johann asked with a straight voice.
"Not anywhere I can see."
Johann's eyes faltered with disbelief. The only benefit he could've acquired from the entire ordeal was to meet with Mr. Campbell, and though he probably would be unable to freely converse with him regarding the difficulties both him and the old man had probably been facing, he could've at least acquired a notice on where they could meet.
"The old fella's been out for some time now, not long before he's out even from the bloody party."
"What?"
"Gramps needs retirement champ, how long do ya want those old gears to work for?"
"No. That's not the point. We- or at least I was never informed of this! Besides at such a short notice as well?"
"Don't blame me, you know who might've been the damn reason."
"Don't tell me—" He blankly stared at Hannes.
"Ya alright?"
"I'm fine." He declared as he adjusted himself on the chair.
"Hey, heard they're gonna announce something big today mate, I hope at least that cheers you up. What business did you have with the old fella anyways?"
"Nothing concerning." He said, getting up from his seat.
"If you're goin to the stage then I'm commin as well, can't miss that bloke's words."
"Go on. I need a breather, I'll be there shortly."
"Alright."
With an exasperated sigh, Johann slowly walked away from the table, his feet felt as if drudging through quicksand and his mind muddled with a thousand different outcomes, of which none were favorable.
If there were a real reason for the repeated absence of Russel Goldford Campbell, it would either be the deteriorating health of the old man or his intentional omission from such events orchestrated by someone, and Johann was quick to suspect who that 'someone' might be.
The hagberry bushes and birch trees gave the park a certain calmness that rejuvenated a person on a stressful day. In the early morning one could arrive here to be a witness to the unique jingles and voices of nature that give one's soul a sense of fulfilment that remains unexplainable.
But perhaps the intricacies of the human mind far outweighed the positive energy radiated by such a place, because even after being alone in a secluded region; save for a couple that had just began to get intimate and with red faces poignant with embarrassment had made their way out of the benches, he was completely alone.
He now stared at a statue surrounded by a sumptuous water fountain, the stature itself depicted a man with a round belly and a monocle on his right eye, grasping a book tightly in his hands and the index finger of his other hand breached upwards towards the heavens of which he had become a part of.
Johann wasn't a religious man, yet the idea of a heaven and hell still intrigued him to a point where he found them believable, his parents had been religious but their inauspicious actions had persisted in the form of mild disgust he felt towards 'the almighty'.
It wasn't extremely clear what allowed them to ascend to heaven, he suspected their relentless prayer and redundant chants had ultimately worked in the end as they now laughed from above at their pathetic son for leaving them behind and still failing to protect himself.
Maybe heaven wasn't a place for the righteous or the quintessence of moral greatness, but a reward for the ones who had been successful in gaslighting themselves and the people around them to believe their actions to be the most just and sensible irrespective of what consequences may occur.
A small house had come into his mind, a humble abode where existed a small, very small family of seven. They weren't small in their numbers but small in the ages of the people who were residents of it.
Johann still remembered picking up a lighter—the same one his father had used to burn his indifferent and for the lack of a better word, impotent mother, and placing it underneath a heap of newspapers close to the curtains.
He still thinks deeply about what he did.
Were his actions purely out of concern for his family? Did he want revenge for the years upon years he spent fighting for bits of food he shared among the six others that were now just strangers to him?
Did he even love them?
He didn't know.
The only thing he remembered
Was the face of his mother he saw on the sidewalk as he tried to flee the situation after setting fire to the house, her face twitched for the first time in his life, her face wincing in agony and the only thing he could muster was a grin that was sure to become a haunting memory for the rest of her life—if she even got to live her remaining years that is.
A wind made its way through the empty garden, the trees were in a cascade to hide the moonlight from resting on the stone benches below him. A complicated man standing before a statue, maybe admiring its splendor and simply cast away in his thoughts and indifferent to the boy who had found a spot next to him.
He did not turn to meet his face, he simply continued staring at the statue absorbing whatever he held interest in.
"How long has the statue been oxidized for?" The boy asked, his tone wasn't over the top or authoritative, it was calm and he seemed to be deep in thought himself.
"About three years now." replied Johann.
"But has it not been over four decades since the death of Douglas Goldford Campbell? Why has it taken so long to get this built?" he asked in succession, his eyes still not leaving the statue.
This prompted Johann to put a hand to his chin, "I would say a lack of resources but that wouldn't be valid. The only real reason would be resentment of the prior government towards his movements."
"I see. And would that be due to his reluctance to indulge in the war?"
"Precisely."
"He also died under mysterious circumstances before the war started, so why was the statue built now?" The phrasing made his words no more than a rhetorical question.
"A great man must die, but he will not take his ideas with him when he perishes. It was just a time matter of time before he was solidified as a great man himself."
The young man kept looking at the statue, he tilted his head slightly,
"Passing on ideas that were considered a heresy at that time? Was it someone from his own family lineage that carried it on?"
Johann was genuinely shocked at the young man's quick syllogism, his eyes widening a bit.
"Yes. That's quiet correct. I've never heard someone reach that conclusion on their own."
"What do you think of him?"
Johann's shoulders relaxed as he contemplated his own relationship with the man in question,
"He's one of the best people I've ever known in my life." came the proud reply.
Johann did not turn to see the boy's face but he was very certain that he had nodded at his statement.
"It is unfortunate how he is treated outside of such a small circle. The local news outside of the continent paints quiet a bad picture about him."
Johann wasn't aware of the propaganda that may be spreading outside Marlen, but it was not surprising regarding the heated tension between the previous government and Douglas, and now, Russel. Yet to have reached to the point of misinformation was a new low for the Marlen government, he wondered how the legacy of Douglas would have survived without the efforts of his son.
Johann seemed to think deeply for a second, before opening his mouth to speak whereupon a loud noise cut through the serene atmosphere.
Despite its volume, it was muffled and not easily comprehendible.
"Attention! Attention! It is reqwested that everyone preshent must gather at the cenhtre stage!"
A command coming from a playfully stout voice was enough to make the both of them turn their heads to look at the grey speaker nestled between the leaves of the birch tree.
"Time's up." Said the boy as he made his way out the garden.
"Young man." Called out Johann, "You expect me to let you go without even telling me your name?" He said with a smile.
The boy stood still in his tracks at the remark, and turned to meet Johann. A head full of short black hair in surfs and brown eyes that radiated warmth. He looked at Johann with a mundane expression and waited momentarily before answering, as if contemplating the secrets of the cosmos and when he opened his mouth, Johann was reminded of his calm and almost indifferent way of speaking.
"Ronan."