Author Topic: The Christmas Revolution  (Read 1522 times)

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Offline Tytor

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The Christmas Revolution
« on: December 25, 2019, 03:13:34 PM »
People's Square, Tsargrad
December 24, 2019
6:55 PM

Samuel Harrison gazed at the line of soldiers standing between the protesters and the Central Administration Building.  They looked cold.  Of course, everybody looked cold, especially with the frigid rain coming down on all involved in this standoff.  The protesters had been in the square since the 18th, and they didn't intend to be going anywhere anytime soon.  They were demanding a change in government, something Tytor hadn't had in nearly a century.

The Tytorian People's Republic had been established back in the 1920s at the instigation of such revolutionary icons as Wallis and Smith.  A short-lived insurrection by Granger in the '40s had failed to do much more than break Floodwater away from the rest of the country, and the Party's domination of Tytorian society had, by now, long passed its 90th year.  At long last, however, the people were taking things into their own hands; student demonstrations beginning in September had given way to larger protests attended by thousands of Tytorian citizens.  The hardliners, in control of the government since the August coup, had thus far remained seemingly impervious to this mass criticism, even with international pressure from the likes of Dartfordia and Rokkenjima.

It suddenly occured to Samuel that most of the Christian world celebrated this day as Christmas Eve.  Honestly, most of those present were probably aware of the same thing, despite the fact that it hadn't been celebrated publicly since 1924.  Tytor was officially atheistic, after all.  This realization was almost something of an epiphany, though, and Samuel's next action was almost a reflex.

He started singing.

"Silent night!  Holy night..."

A few of the protesters around him looked puzzled for a split-second, but then joined in.

"...All is calm, all is bright..."

More protesters started joining in as well, and the volume of the singing began to increase.

"...Round yon virgin mother and Child..."

The soldiers started looking uncomfortable.  A few exchanged glances.

"...Holy Infant, so tender and mild..."

Samuel could see some of the protesters starting to tear up, but the sound of music continued to grow.

"...Sleep in heavenly peace..."

Lights began coming on in nearby houses and apartments as previously apathetic citizens started gaining interest.

"...Sleep in heavenly peace."

There was a slight hesitation as the first verse ended, but then a strong baritone voice from somewhere in the back resumed the song.

"Silent night!  Holy night..."

It took almost no time at all for the rest of the crowd to come back in, stronger than before.

"...Shepherds quake at the sight..."

Now there were citizens standing in doorways, craning their necks to watch, and even starting to sing as well.

"...Glories stream from heaven afar..."

A few soldiers started to relax a bit, rifles dropping from their ready positions.

"...Heav'nly hosts sing Alleluia..."

By this point, few if any spectators had not yet joined the singing, which rang through the cold December air with ever-increasing strength.

"...Christ, the Savior, is born..."

Samuel could even see tears in the eyes of the nearest soldiers, and he could tell that it was taking all their willpower to keep from joining in.

"...Christ, the Savior, is born!"

This time, there was no pause between verses, with volume and sheer joy increasing with each syllable.

"Silent night!  Holy night..."

Now Samuel could sense practically the entire city behind every syllable.

"...Son of God, love's pure light..."

Samuel's own voice cracked as he felt emotion welling up in his heart.

"...Radiant beams from Thy holy face..."

One of the soldiers dropped his rifle, tears streaming down his face; the gun made a loud noise on the cobblestones and then lay still.

"...With the dawn of redeeming grace..."

A few more guns began to fall to the ground, their owners refusing orders to pick them back up.

"...Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth..."

Despite the growing disorganization of the soldiers in front of them, the crowd made no move to push forward.

"...Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth."

As the song concluded, an intensely peaceful feeling washed over Samuel.  He knew in that instant that everything would be okay.  Freedom would prevail at last in Tytor.

Of that, at least, he was quite certain.
His Majesty Michael the First, by the Grace of God, King of Tytor and her Colonies, and Lord Protector of Floodwater

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