Epilogue + Afterword (The Gathering Storm — Volume One)
The Second Orlish Civil War
The Putschists
Normal Flag (NRF Party Flag)
War Flag
Provisional Government of Orland
(Eirhow Directorate)
National Spirits
Men's Militarism
- Even without magic, we men shall conduct ourselves to our duties. War will be men's domain - for better or worse. For there is no better fate for us than to die in service of those behind us.
Extremist Reformism
- To achieve our rights, there can be no quarter. If force of arms is necessary, then we shall not flinch. Either magic and women are crushed - or we men are crushed.
Technology Ascendant
- The power of technology has shined in this century. Clearly, technology alone will triumph - triumph over the arcane!
Eirhow's Military Industry
- The very symbol of young men's misery and disposability - the soulless factories and imposing spires of Eirhow shall be our greatest strength!
Equality Through Blood
- Blood and blood alone will be our salvation. Men will never taste rights or equality without payment - and without making those who hold these from us bleed.
OHC Emergency Government
- The Armed Forces was cut in half! Yet those loyal to the revolution shall serve it with gallantry. To defeat the Queen and restore order, Martial Law is now in effect!
Ravage the Duchies!
- The Archduchess and the Duchess shall pay! For their transgressions against men, they and their conservative allies will be ground into dust. Every city of these “perfect women” shall be turned to rubble with our righteous airpower!
Drive to the Capital!
- Plan Orland is our masterpiece. The Queen and her stooges won't last once our tanks blasted through the Royal Capital - and we shall!
Government Type:
Provisional Republic under a Military Junta
Key Leaders:
Provisional President Sullivan Rimpler
Minister of Defense Geoffrey Heindhöff
Director of the Orlish Intelligence Agency Alfonso Bluch
The Royalists
Civilian Flag
OAF War Flag
Kingdom of Orland
(Her Majesty's Government)
National Spirits
Men's Militarism
- Even without magic, we men shall conduct ourselves to our duties. War will be men's domain - for better or worse. For there is no better fate for us than to die in service of those behind us.
Idealistic Reformism
- We women shall grant men, with gentleness, the equality and benevolence they deserve. For how can one call herself a woman without caring for her fellow man?
Staunch Aristocracy
- We women are the chosen ones. Above the barbaric savages that are men. To give them rights would be a disservice to the order, logic - and the goddess herself.
Magic Ascendant
- The rule of the arcane is inevitable, for it is the power granted to us women by the goddess. Technology may be here, but the power of the old remains!
OHC Emergency Government
- The Armed Forces were cut in half! Yet those loyal to the Queen shall serve her and Her Majesty’s Government with gallantry. To defeat the rabid traitors and restore order, Martial Law is now in effect!
Ducal Defense Forces
- The brutal horde of these savage young men will not enter the Duchies without resistance. Every woman prepared to hold a wand shall fight for the defense of our homeland!
Defense of Halia
- The Royal Capital and Her Majesty must be defended at all costs! Every available unit is now scrambling and mobilizing for the Queen. They shall not pass!
Government Type:
Parliamentary Semi-Constitutional Monarchy
Key Leaders:
Queen Amelie Ludendorf
Prime Minister Jacqueline Heiss
Deputy Prime Minister Walter Plock
General Victor Albrecht
Admiral George Halberd
---
Epilogue
A gun locked at a woman’s heart.
A wand locked at a man’s head.
In the end, the battle between the two genders had once more begun. Yet one would struggle to ask, and more so find answers, to such a question. A question asked for centuries, a question asked before magic had been bestowed by the goddess.
Who indeed was in the wrong?
Who was in the right?
Was there even an answer to such a question?
Were men in the wrong? For being violent and vile - all for their rights? Rights they had bled for - all in vain, for 300 years?
Or were women wrong? For being uncaring and apathetic - for they were "superior"? For they upheld punitive measures for the thousands of years of men's crimes?
A young woman walked through the broken streets of her town. What once was a vibrant home of hers - now nothing but cinders. The rubble littered the road. The homes burned aflame, or the masonry completely collapsed. Thriving stores and establishments, turned into nothing but broken windows and walls.
Dead civilians lined the streets. So did dead soldiers. Dead people, unable to escape the brutality upon them. The bombardment had been vile - discriminate, uncaring. Almost as if, in the perspective of artillery shells and bombs - men and women were equal.
Equal in death.
She had a bright future once. Born in a life of plenty and privilege, she could have lived a long, successful life.
Or at least, she could have, had the war not started. Had all of it turned out fine. Yet it didn't. Maybe she should have paid more attention. Maybe she should have never looked down at those men who toiled in the rung. Maybe she should have advocated and helped their cause.
Perhaps, yet she was too small to change anything. Was it an excuse? Perhaps not. Yet it didn't change anything. What did she do to deserve all of this?
They arrived.
They bombed her town.
They shot all those who opposed.
All in a deranged search for "justice".
Who were they to do such a thing? To do such a thing to her and her fellow women? Had they committed a crime against them? They were merely trying to live their lives - yet they destroyed it. Destroyed it for their deranged cause.
A cause she once agreed with - but now, all she felt was hate. Hate for those who destroyed everything she held dear.
A young high school boy turned soldier, barely even 16, advanced through the broken rubble, rifle held close.
He didn't have much in his future. A mere boy he was, his prospects were too little. He had never viewed his life as somewhat important. He always joked of death and despair, much to the mirth of his fellow brothers and himself. He had come from a line of dead men - men who merely had a child before dying in war.
And so he joked and joked. For he knew what his fate was. To die in battle. So what indeed was the value of his life? So why not joke about it?
It had little value to begin with anyway.
Yet they told him it could all be better. That perhaps, through the force of arms, they would triumph and live as well as women. That their meaningless lives could have value. That even when they lacked magic, and the approval of the goddess, they could live just as decently as women did.
It was a distant, yet beautiful promise. A promise he didn’t truly believe in - too apathetic and disillusioned at such a young age.
Yet he joined. For what would he lose? A life he didn't value?
Who cared? The rewards were so much more shiny. Even when such things are too far, and too impossible.
But what a cruel joke it was! Instead of the promised tales of liberation and people cheering for the revolution, he had watched his brothers die in their hasty advance. Or how their most extreme members would shoot civilian women out of "justice". Indeed, why had he even held hope? There was no good fate for them. They were either miserable, or they would spread misery.
Pain after pain.
Atrocities after atrocities.
Dead civilians - women, girls, children.
And dead men on every defense line.
All through hell.
Had they made things worse? He didn't truly know the answer.
Yet could one blame him still? Blame him, for he fought on the side that championed his rights the most?
Was he truly in the wrong?
Two separate souls - too far away and insignificant in the grand tale of Her Majesty, or of Orland itself.
Yet the two showed the spirit of the dire situation greatly.
Both men and women, all of whom were now stuck in a world of death and despair. All as they pointed the fingers of blame at each other. All as they shoot each other for their respective sides.
She walked with great caution, yet her mind was empty. So were her eyes. All she held was her wand - her only defense against those vile men who invaded her very home. It was the goddess’ blessing to all women. And now, she understood why. To defend herself. To defend her beloved, from the faceless, evil, and savage masses of young men.
Young men who now burned down her nation.
There were cracks of gunfire and the thunder of artillery in the distance. Yet she didn't turn her head toward it. She merely walked forward, as she heard the rumbling of tank threads.
Suddenly, upon her was a man.
The teenage soldier looked at the woman with panic. His gun instinctively aimed at hers as the tank behind him crossed behind him. The behemoth's turret turned in the direction of the young woman, just as her wand glowed.
"Halt! Put down your wand!" He roared.
"Die! You vile man ape!" She snapped back.
Yet, were the two really supposed to fight each other? What would be the point of it all?
For men and women to be at each other's throats?
Sisters against Brothers.
The wand against the rifle.
A shot cracked through the air. Just as a faint whizz of a spell swished in response.
Which side was truly wrong?
And which side are you on?
---
Afterword
Well, there goes, the end of Book One (or Volume One if you'd like) and well, I just wanted to have a word to all of you, dear readers.
Now, you're probably wondering - why? What led you to write this? Now, I'm no woman, and I would never qualify myself to ever speak about the transgressions they have lived under. But I do wonder, and I wondered, what if it was the other way around? Or better yet, what if women turned it the other way around? And even better (based on the arguments of many male supremacists that, well, we men are superior because of physical strength, or sometimes intellect, which I believe is bollocks) why not give women magic? Because that's exactly what magic gave to women in this novel - utter biological superiority, physical and intellect.
Now, the question this seeks to ask is, does that justify the superior position of women? Do men deserve to be second-class because they are (technically) inferior? We can even turn that around. Do men, or women, deserve to be under because of this or that? We see the consequences it creates in the novel. And I guess I tried hard to show how disastrous it would be if men and women, the two fundamental halves of humanity, were at each other's throats, all for petty disagreements. It's a simple concept that I believe most people agree on - but somehow, many still forget.
As for the question, that's up to you dear readers to answer.
Now, about me. Well, I'm actually just a Filipino High School guy who loves to dabble in geopolitical history. I wrote this thing during the school vacations, and I'm continuing to write this in my scheduled spare time whenever I get back home.
But, well, next year I'd most likely be slammed straight into college, and would probably have to get myself into some jobs if I wanted to survive. But that's why I'm also doing this. Maybe (or maybe not) I could go through college writing on the side instead of flipping burgers on the side.
That's why Patreon is open to you all! Maybe, you liked my writing, wanted to see more, and wanted me to go on. Well, there it is, dear reader. Of course, unless you really want it, there's no need to feel the need to join, as, look, I'm in a third-world country, and the cost of living is lower. That 10$ alone, for example, would let me survive for days (and I'm a really frugal guy when it comes to spending). I need some, but I don't need so much.
That's why, unless this thing utterly fails and I run out of time, I'll continue to write and write. I'd be honest, this line of work is quite fulfilling. To create worlds and people and give them life...it just, well, it's an experience I wouldn't let go. And I won't retreat until I become a full-fledged author (hopefully). So yeah, if you want to and you can support me, you have my eternal gratitude!
Book 2 is coming soon - and I hope you stay tuned. Thank you all for reading this.
And thank you for reading the first book I wrote. No kidding.