Wind swept the streets of Kamat, her venerable walls now a shadow of their former selves and a reminder of an age now long passed. It was the year 1939, and war with the Ardian Empire was now once again inevitable. But the worries of the world seemed far, far away from here, deep within the Vrashain plain. Life was actually rather good, at least for Erel's family. The son of a grocer, he had lived in and around the city his entire life, sixteen years in total. And besides, if anything were to happen, he wasn't going to affected by it. The Imperial Navy and Air Force would be sure to keep that from happening. What did they have to fear from Ardia now? Other than that, he had to worry about his studies more, if he was going to get accepted into the University of Ishkot in the coming years. All in all, even in the unlikely event that war broke out, it wasn't his concern.
"...Anyways... Nice weather we're having, huh?" Erel said to a friend; he was admittedly terrible at small-talk, but nonetheless he made his best attempt.
"Yep." His friend, Aren, said in respond, somewhat distracted. Understandably so, given that his father was currently in the Army and war
was on the horizon. "Anyways, I should be going. See you tomorrow?" He asked, leading to his friend's affirmation. And so, Erel was left alone, slowly starting to realize that he was late getting home himself. Father was going to be livid if he wasn't home before sundown to help out with the shop, if he hadn't been drinking again.
Fifteen minutes later--Erel would arrive at his parent's shop a few minutes before sundown, having tried—
and failed— to get home on time. Even now, as his gut sank, something felt different. Sure, he was likely to get yelled at, but being this late it was a surprise his father wasn't about to head out and drag him home himself. Just inside, he could hear the radio playing some song that he couldn't quite remember the name of. Nonetheless, he approached the door and prepared, both literally and figuratively, to face the music.
"Ah, there he is." Erel's father said, surprisingly not angry this time. "You're
finally home, huh. Took you long enough."
And there it was. While he clearly wasn't angry, it was certain he was annoyed. "Come, have a seat."
"You're... not angry?" Erel asked, doing as his father had suggested. "That's a first."
"That tone of yours will change things if you keep it up." He responded before his attention drifted back to the radio. "Nah, today was rather slow anyways, at least where it concerns you. People are really thinkin' this'll be the end of the world... Not that I can't fault 'em."
"You really think there's gonna be a war, pa?" Erel asked,
almost interrupting his father in the process. "Aren se-"
"Honestly, knowing how these things go, it'll have to take one
Ikat[1] of a screwup to lead to one." His father cut him off, being reminded of the last wars. He'd seen war himself; some might say
too well, given that it claimed his left eye. "Just so you know, I get you and your friends'll want to sign up if there is one, and that's all well and good, but it
won't be the romanticized version of it you read in books and hear about in radio-dramas."
"I know, I know, focus on your education and keep your head down, as you always say." Erel sighed, annoyed as just about every one of his friends had gone through the same talk with their parents, if they were still alive at least.
"Actually... I was gonna say that if you want to defend your nation, there's more ways to do it than just fighting... but that works too." His father replied in a slightly less-than-serious manner. "But yeah, as I was gonna say, take your sister. She's studying down in Ishkot to one day be a nurse. Your uncle, before he passed, used to work in one of the steel mills out west, too. Just... do what you think you need to be do-" He was cut off, this time by the station's interval signal, that being a simplified version of the beginning of the national anthem.
"This is Radio Ikan. You will now hear a message from the Office of the Prime Minister." A voice came over the radio, evidently somewhat shaken, before the radio went silent save for static.
"That's... odd." Erel's father muttered, though he wasn't entirely certain of what was going on. All he knew was that
something was afoot.
"I am speaking to you from the offices of the National Assembly in Ikan. This morning, following the breakdown in relations over the sinking of the INS Shikan, the Ikhani ambassador in Heyra handed the government a final notice, stating that unless we heard from them by noon that they were prepared at once to withdraw their forces from our waters, a state of war would exist between us. I speak to you now to inform you that no such undertaking has been received, and as such, this country is now at war with the Principality of Heyra." "What was that about a serious blunder, pops?" Erel asked, only to receive a glare from his father. It had finally happened.
"I pray that the Kani will grant us their favour in the trying times ahead, and I know that the indomitable spirit of the Arashin will persevere until the last breath is drawn by us. Have a good night, and may the Kani preserve our Empire." "It's happening again." Erel's father said. "Ardia will almost certainly declare war on us... I don't know if we can survive another war, to be completely honest with you son."
"We'll persevere, as we did in the last war. I know it."
"I know... Just... wait a while if you're going to sign on. I'd rather you be spared the bloodshed as long as you can, even if it'll happen eventually. Nowhere will be safe."