1st September, 2015 C.E.
Fayzulin Residence, Kyonigsberg, Prussia"Prussia, the fourth Baltic Republic.Reborn from the collapse of the Soviet Union, Prussia is a nation straddling between the past of the land and the past of its people. Until the end of the Second World War, Prussia's past had been intrinsically tied to its Germanic founders, from the crusaders of the Teutonic Order to the Hohenzollern dukes and kings that took over the domain. But the end of the war, and the final defeat of Nazism in Europe had severed those ties. Triumphant and high on victor's justice, its conquerors expelled its inhabitants and replaced them with their own, intent of burying the past of the 'militarist Germans'. But the actions of one man, a Yevgeny Mikhailovich Stolypin and his Committee for Resettlement, had unwittingly planted the seeds of separation. In trying to repair a union rigged to divide and conquer and failed, its progenitor had instead set it to break away itself. A nation-state set apart from the other republics, Prussia had chosen to tie its future with the dreams and visions of its myriad people. Neither a revival of a Teutonic past nor bound to its Soviet legacy, Prussia's identity is once again being remade, one to reflect a home for all, regardless of their origins, identity and past.A strange dream in a stranger time."That was the tale told to Aylin of her mother's land, a nation near-unrecognisable, and yet all too familiar for many. Few in the world could claim the sort of diversity enjoyed by Prussia, and even fewer can claim absolute peace between its inhabitants. Suriname, Lebanon, South Africa... how many had tried and failed to unify its diverse people? How many had ended up with mob rule, or worse? For the young girl who had spent her life surrounded by everything Turkish, the diversity of Prussia was almost alien, virtually unimaginable. After all, most nations in Eurasia, she felt, defined their identities based on the dominant ethnicity. How else can a nation define its identity, if not by excluding those who do not fit their criteria?
All that, to her admission, was far too deep for her to be concerned of right now.
“Are you ready yet, Aylin,” the voice of an old lady screamed at her from beyond her door as the girl stood before her mirror, “your breakfast is getting cold.”
“Almost done, madam,” she stated in her usual, serious monotone, adjusting the cuff of her new, western-style uniform.
“Don't call me 'madam' like you don't know me, brat,” cursed the old lady, “I'm your grandmother, and you're a fifteen year old girl! Start acting your age for once! I feel like I'm talking to my grandpa with you!”
Looking over her new clothes, Aylin pursed her lips at the granny's words. Regardless of her sullen, stoic persona of the 'ghostly wanderer, Selim', it was hard to escape the fact that she was still just a young girl. Many had thought she was funny. Others thought she was weird. At times, she herself was not sure who she was, an existentialist dilemma that had gripped many like herself. The Japanese called it Chūnibyō – eighth grader syndrome. But while most took to fantasy and the grandiose, she took to history as her calling. She had forgotten how long she had been 'Selim', but from the old woman's tone, it was probably for a long time.
“Sorry, grandmother,” she corrected herself somewhat, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she headed out the door, “I'll play along if that's what you request.”
A chop on the head would quickly show her her error, as she left to face the 'old crone Aysılu', and her husband Ramil...
Pregola River, enroute to St Elisabeth von Thüringen Catholic Girls Academy
Kyonigsberg, PrussiaSt Elisabeth Catholic Girls Academy, Knowledge Day. Established in 1993 after the fall of the Soviet Union, the primarily German-medium school had been at a forefront of a nationwide movement. Driving the intellectual rediscovery of pre-Soviet Prussia, the school, and many other organisations in the country, had sought to piece together a past that, for many decades, been written off. To that end, the school and its benefactors in the Teutonic Order have dedicated themselves to raising the next generation, educating the best and brightest to look beyond the fog of historical revision and recover the past.
Pacing along the cobbled streets along the famed Pregola river, Aylin tried hard not to feel discomforted. Dressed in a black blazer over her white shirt, with an immaculately tied neck ribbon, the girl tried to hold down her black, pleated skirt discreetly, a hint of embarrassment over her uniform. There was something about skirts that bothered her gravely, despite the lack of expression. The fact that her grandmother arranged for the length was even more of a concern, given her upbringing and social norms of her youth.
“You know, most grandmothers in this day of age would be horrified to see girls dressed in such revealing clothes,” she commented, “or do you wish you were young enough to wear this without looking like a freak?”
“Did your parents teach you to be that snide,” went the old woman, pacing beside her in her usual pink scarf and dress, “you girls complain about everything. You and Roza.”
“You're not answering the question,” stated the Turk, “which is it?"
“Shut up and walk, brat,” grunted Aysılu with a scowl, “I have no reason to answer that.”
As the docks loomed into view, the towering facade of her new academy began to emerge. A feat of engineering unimaginable in any day, the school ship of St. Elisabeth was but one of many in Europe, and the second after Vernost Stolypinskaya Girls. As the Soviet Union's western-most ice-free port, the West Baltic SSR once played host to six of the union's twenty-six school ships, third behind Ukraine and Russia itself. But the post-Soviet government under Henrik Abram Gram could not afford to maintain the ships. As a result, only one, Vernost, survived the purge, the rest scrapped or sold to build a free Prussia. St. Elisabeth was the first to emerge after the end of communism, a symbol of post-Soviet reconstruction. But its ties with the Teutonic Order had a far darker side, a magnet for far-right activity spurred by daughters of Teutonic Revival members.[1]
Analysing the Graf Zeppelin scale up, Aylin could sense the enormity of its size. These were not like the LSTs used by Izmir's local schools. This was an aircraft carrier, and one massively inflated to accommodate a functioning town. Twiddling her thumbs, she was starting to understand her parents' choice, regardless of the faults.
“Your parents are crazy to send you here,” grunted the old crone, looking up at the St Elisabeth ship, “aren't they worried you might end up in some convent singing Latin hymns? The school's infested by Nazis too. 'Best school' shouldn't mean 'best' overall.”
“The school's credentials could not be denied, however,” Aylin commented, reaching the base of the staircase as they sifted through the crowd of students and parents, “many accomplished scholars have went on to the most prestigious universities in the world from here.”
“But you're already good enough to go
straight to university,” Aysilu sneered, “don't pretend, you're far smarter than your grades say. If you weren't busy faking mental instability, you might be in Yale already.”
Bowing her head, though, Aylin simply mused, “you overrate me, grandmother. I am... nothing special.”
Nothing, to her, seemed special, not herself, nor the university scholarships that had flooded her mailbox. But perhaps, St Elisabeth provided something different from the terrestrial schools that still dominate Europe. In fact, in the guise of the 'ghostly wanderer', it seemed all the more... prophetic.
“I return, knights of the black cross,” she recited poetically, looking up at her new school, “from brothers to sisters. These are strange times...”
“You need to stop spouting that,” the granny reprimanded almost immediately, giving a disapproving glare, “it's disturbing.”
OOC Notes:- Teutonic Revival. Because Prussia is a magnet for Neo-Nazis.
Cast