Intermix Nation (2 page)

Let them stay away. That’s perfectly fine
with her.

But secretly, what they
think bothers Nazirah. Of
course
she yearns to avenge her parents! She wants to
savagely maim, castrate, decapitate, and slaughter the monster who
murdered them. Visions of vengeance keep her awake at night. She
tosses and turns, sweating and screaming and biting hard into her
pillow. Burning hatred is what keeps her feeling, even after
everything else goes numb.

And that scares Nazirah. It scares her
straight to the core. Because lately, she isn’t sure of the real
reason she can’t sleep anymore.

Yes, Nazirah advocates what the rebels are
fighting for! What intermix doesn’t? Centuries ago, after the Final
War ended, the survivors of the Old Country pulled themselves from
the brink of destruction, uniting to form a new nation. Blame was
cast around in spades. Every possible vice, belief, and ideal was
shrouded in a negative light, as the self-appointed leaders of the
New Country tried to figure out what went wrong. With their unique
power, influence, and wealth, the Medis were a beacon of hope in a
tumultuous time. Their singular goal was to form a nation of peace
and justice, unheard of in the Old Country.

Ultimately, the Medis blamed the Final War
on America’s diversity. No country, they said, could ever run
efficiently with so many cultures, religions, and ethnicities
interacting together. Ready to clash and kill at the slightest
provocation.

A central capital was established.
Surrounding territory lines were drawn: Zima, Osen, Eridies, and
the Red West. People were relocated. Millions were killed, all in
the name of serving a higher purpose. And in the end, a new nation
arose.

Renatus.

Reborn from the ashes of what had been
lost.

Kasimir Nation, Nazirah’s father, was an
Oseni from a small village called Valestream. His skin was the
color of wispy clouds against the sun. Nazirah used to joke about
how easily he burned during the Rafu summer. Kasimir was tall and
broad, with sinewy muscles from a lifetime of eating forest game.
He had a grisly brown beard to match his grisly brown eyebrows, and
a deep, bellowing voice. He made his living hunting, logging,
trapping, and trading on the black market.

As a child, Nazirah loved bouncing on
Kasimir’s knee, listening to legendary stories of his childhood in
the Oseni wilderness. Nazirah grew up hearing of evergreens so tall
they blocked out all light from the sky, of rolling hills and
winding rivers that a man could get lost in forever. Nazirah loved
his tales, no matter how tall. Kasimir’s heart never left the
wilderness of Osen. Even years after his departure, he would still
tear up at the thought of its beauty. He would never admit to that,
though. There was always something in his eye.

But Kasimir had fallen, and he had fallen
hard.

On his most fortuitous venture to Mandar, a
small town in coastal Eridies, Kasimir was trading with a wealthy
merchant when he spotted the merchant’s youngest daughter,
Riva.

Riva Martel, soon to become Riva Martel
Nation. Riva was fragile and delicate, with olive skin sun-kissed
and salty from the ocean, so unlike the strong forest girls of
Valestream. Riva’s face was heart shaped, her exotic almond eyes
like honey.

With one glance, Kasimir knew he never
wanted to look at another girl again.

Riva’s parents wept, called her a whore and
blood traitor. How could she possibly marry someone not of Eridian
descent? How could she voluntarily exile herself from her people,
from her family? How could she ever love a wild, disgusting, vile
Oseni ogre, who would leave her once he found someone younger and
more beautiful?

Riva could not be persuaded and was shunned
from Mandar. Her hometown was a peaceful fishing community. The
residents didn’t wish for her death, although they could have
enforced it. Riva and Kasimir packed their sparse belongings and
left quietly in the night, pledging themselves to each other on the
Eridian coast with only the stars to bear witness. They did not
return to Valestream; the journey was far too dangerous for the
pregnant Riva. So Kasimir built them a small cottage on the water
in neighboring Rafu and made a meager living trading illegal wares.
Riva, once a wealthy merchant’s daughter, never looked back. Their
first child, Nikolaus, arrived a few months later. Nazirah followed
a few years after that. Both children were intermix. And both
children were loved more dearly than life itself.

Riva, highly educated until marriage, had
strongly encouraged Nikolaus and Nazirah’s own schooling. They were
homeschooled until Riva became fed up with their constant bickering
and lack of supplies. Through several called-in favors and black
market deals, Riva bribed some affluent Eridians and procured a
small annex to one of the poorer schools in Rafu. In one room, Riva
taught dozens of intermix students, including her own two children.
She never asked for any money in return; she knew no one could
afford it.

Nazirah shamefully remembers her first day
of class, looking in disgust at her starving, lice-ridden, and
shoeless peers. She remembers how fiercely her mother scolded her
afterwards for judging them. Nazirah’s parents were smart,
able-bodied, and resourceful. Nazirah herself was only a first
generation intermix. Most were not so fortunate.

Riva taught her intermix students the
alphabet and arithmetic. But, more importantly, she taught them
justice. The pillars of her classroom were peace and love and
self-worth. She advocated equality and fighting for what you stood
for, especially in the face of opposition.

Once Nikolaus graduated, he joined the small
but energetic rebellion in Krush. The rebels were intermix and
territory-born refugees, and Riva and Kasimir were immensely proud
of their son. They scolded Nazirah for not living up to her
potential, for not trying to do more. But Nazirah was young and
rebellious, and didn’t want to live by anyone else’s rules.

After she refused several advances from one
of Rafu’s Lords, Riva and her teachings were exposed to the Medis.
They warned her to stop. She didn’t listen.

The Medis came in the night. They heard of
the growing rebellion and needed a scapegoat. Needed to set an
example to keep the rest in check. They blamed Riva and, by
extension, Kasimir.

The rest is history.

Of course Nazirah agrees with the rebels!
But she has already been through so much. She has already lost so
much.

What Nazirah really wants is to take her
brother and Cato and run. Run as far away from the Medis and the
rebellion and the threat of war as she can. But she doesn’t know
where they would go. And she doesn’t think they would make it very
far. And she knows the other two wouldn’t come. Cato, maybe, could
be convinced. But not Nikolaus. And Nazirah would never leave
without him. He is the only family she has left.

So Nazirah will stay.

But she won’t like it.

“Irri, snap out of it.” Cato waves his hand
in front of her face. “I could be having a more exciting
conversation with these carrots. In fact, I think I am.”

“Sorry, Cato,” Nazirah says
guiltily, intent on giving him her full attention this time.
“You’re right … it
is
a who that’s bothering me.”

She and Cato met in school, although Nazirah
was only ever allowed inside the annex. She was five, he was six.
One afternoon, some Eridian bullies cornered her outside. Cato
defended her, even though the boys were older and bigger. By the
end of the day, Nazirah and Cato had matching black eyes and their
friendship was forever solidified. Cato is closer to her than
Nazirah’s biological brother.

“And that person would be?”

“Captain Jerkoff, who else?” She sighs
dramatically.

“He’s Captain Jerkoff this week, is he?”
Cato snorts. “How original. And does Captain Jerkoff know that’s
how his sister lovingly refers to him?”

“I don’t know,” Nazirah
says. “Probably.” She watches as some fellow recruits enter the
mess hall. “
Commander
Jerkoff is more appropriate. I haven’t seen him enough to ask
which name he prefers.”

It’s true. Her brother has been practically
nonexistent in Nazirah’s life for years. Nikolaus was always the
golden child of the family, the one who grew off Riva’s teachings
to become a political activist and rebel. He is five years older
than Nazirah, and at twenty-three has accomplished more than most
intermix do in their lives, becoming the youngest commander of the
entire rebellion.

“Irri, he’s grieving in his own way,” Cato
reminds her gently. “Just give him some time. He’ll come
around.”

Nazirah eyes him skeptically. Cato has known
Nikolaus practically his entire life. They both know Nikolaus isn’t
just grieving. “We don’t exactly … mesh,” she grumbles. “And now
I’ve been summoned to meet with him regarding a ‘matter of extreme
importance.’ I’m supposed to go to his office tonight after
Territory History.”

Although Nazirah wants nothing to do with
the rebellion, part of the agreement for her staying at the
compound is that she trains and learns with the other recruits. All
recruits endure an intense series of classes and combat training
before they are officially initiated into the rebellion. Nikolaus
told her it would look like he was playing favorites if she didn’t
join them.

Nazirah hates combat training and weapons
education, and is bored out of her mind during Territory History.
But she does enjoy meeting other intermix and refugees.
Headquarters thrives with a diversity Nazirah never imagined
before. It makes her heart ache, because she wishes her parents
could experience it too.

“The ‘matter of extreme importance,’ Irri,
is probably that you never go to Territory History.”

“I haven’t seen him in weeks!” Nazirah
rants, ignoring Cato. “He didn’t even ask me in person! He sent
Sergeant Patch to tell me.”

“Sergeant … Patch?”

“I don’t know his real name, Cato,
obviously.” Nazirah throws up her hands. “It’s Nikolaus’s lackey
strategist. You know,” Nazirah gestures conspicuously to her face,
“the guy with the eye patch.”

Cato’s expression is a mixture of amusement
and reproach. “You call him Patch?”

“Not to his face.”

“It’s actually Aldrik.” Lumi Grigori sits
down gracefully across from Cato. She tosses her long golden hair
over one shoulder, an effortless motion that Nazirah thinks must be
practiced. Lumi is tall and leggy, with paper-white skin and icy
blue eyes. She’s a prime example of pure Ziman blood. Her frosty
personality fits her well. Nazirah is about to tell Lumi exactly
where she can go, but Cato shoots her a sideways look and kicks her
under the table.

“Thanks, Lu,” he says.

Cato is a true Eridian gentleman. He is
always nice to everyone – not because he has to be, but because he
wants to be.

Nazirah mimics Cato in her sweetest tone.
“Yeah, thanks Lu.”

“Of course, Cato,” Lumi says, ignoring
Nazirah. She flashes Cato a toothy smile, flicking her hair to her
other shoulder. Nazirah inwardly groans. It’s painfully obvious
that Lumi has a thing for him. But since Cato is the densest boy on
the planet, Nazirah will have to deal with Lumi’s
self-aggrandizing, preening mating rituals until he gets the
point.

Lumi is the eldest of three snowy Grigori
daughters. Her mother died in childbirth, when Lumi’s youngest
sister, Yuki, was born. Yuki is now twelve, Aneira fifteen, and
Lumi eighteen. Her father was once the most powerful Lord in Zima.
Lumi was raised like royalty in a stone manor overlooking the icy
mountains of the North, and wanted for nothing her entire life.

A few months ago, civil unrest erupted
throughout Zima. Lumi’s uncle, her father’s younger brother, took
it as an opportunity to stake his claim over the Grigori land. With
Medi soldiers backing him, he attempted to assassinate Lumi’s
family. A close confidante tipped them off in the nick of time and
the Grigoris fled. They left all of their possessions behind and
traveled as far south as possible to Eridies. Lumi’s father
enlisted in the rebellion, in return for the insurgents’ help
restoring his power after the war.

On one hand, Nazirah sympathizes with Lumi
and her loss. On the other hand, she wants to reach into Lumi’s
throat and rip out her vocal cords.

“Anyway,” Nazirah says, returning to their
previous line of conversation, “Aldrik cornered me today, demanding
that I go see Nikolaus.”

“Do you have any idea what he wants?”

Nazirah doesn’t have a chance to answer
Cato, as they are interrupted for a second time. Lumi’s younger
sister, Aneira, their friend Taj, and a few other recruits sit down
at their table. Cato shrugs at Nazirah sympathetically, dropping
the subject.

Normally, Nazirah doesn’t mind Aneira’s
company. She is by far Nazirah’s favorite Grigori. Aneira has an
innate sadness Nazirah empathizes with. But Nazirah really wanted
to discuss her reservations with Cato before seeing Niko. Not that
she would have known the answer to Cato’s question, because Niko
never tells her anything.

Nazirah finishes her lunch in silence.

Chapter
Two

Nazirah lies in an overgrown meadow, a ways
behind headquarters. The weeds, wild flowers, and long reeds hide
her in plain sight. Head resting comfortably in the crook of her
arm, one ankle crossed lazily over the other, Nazirah stares at the
sky for hours. The clouds roll in, expand, change shape, and roll
out again. The sun slowly trails across the heavens, afternoon
light dimming, fading to dusk, and then turning deep blue. The
stars come out, blinking themselves awake after their day of
slumber.