Optional Music For Those who want to get into the mood ;)
Amidst the commotion outside the Yaliite American Command building, amidst the blue and yellow flags and the rioting drunkards, one man of Slavic descent was ready to make the face of the Island’s history. Armed with naught but a bottle of gasoline and matches, he pushed his way through the protesters, who were kept back only by a thin line of Police men who would have honestly, much preferred to join the protestors in their campaign. Together stood farmers and nanobiologists; natives and frenchmen, women and men, adults and youths. It was from this crowd that the Slav pushed through, to take a position in the center of the town square, bellowing in French.
“Vive notre pays! Vive la Yalos! Rallye, camarades! Rallye!”
His eyes shining with passion and pride, he wildly waved the Yaliite national flag, sewn together by his sister and mother just a week before. It flapped in the ancient winds, an enduring symbol of Yaliite nationalism.
“We are a people, united and strong!” he bellowed, and the crowd roared right back at him.
"We are a people! United And Strong!"
“We are an independent people! We are not American! We are not Tianxian!"
“We are an independent people! We are not American! We are not Tianxian!"
"We belong to no nation, and the world must know!"
"We belong to no nation, and the world must know!"
We are freedom lovers! United only by our shared struggles and hardships!
We are freedom lovers! United only by our shared struggles and hardships!
We are dreamers! Seeking a future in prosperity and love! We are what?”
We are dreamers! Seeking a future in prosperity and love! We are what?”
The crowd chanted back at him: “WE ARE YALIITES!”
“We are Yaliites!” He confirmed. “We love our homeland, and nobody else! Come then, let us demonstrate how fervently we love our motherland! How much we love the fertile soil of the Saint Lawrence River and the Pristine Forests of our beautiful nation! Tell the world just how much it means to us that we be able to gaze into our wide, blue skies, and know that below is a people unafraid to be themselves! Let the world realize that there is nothing more satisfying than going home from a long day of tending the cattle, to sit back and enjoy a newspaper printed by Yaliite citizens, and not foreign corporations, and to know that our wives will bring us pies baked by local town chefs, and not in massive Tianxian manufactories. Tell the world that we do not care for American economic and social policy! Let the world know that while we be but a small nation, an obscure people, that we are a people united, under God, under a single dream, a glorious dream to simply live in quiet and peace! Let them know that we desire naught but peace!”
The crowd responded with great enthusiasm, and watched as the man uncorked the bottle.
He poured the gasoline over his head and it seeped out in a small puddle of liquid about him, running down the paved brick of the city’s main square. Trembling, he hesitated, for one last time, thinking his actions through. His arms shaking, he reached into his pocket, and struck a match.
The crowd watched in horror respect as the Slav touched the match upon his drenched hair. His body instantly lit up like a candle, licking up his body, consuming him in his loyalty to his people. His clothing, then his flesh and bones were burnt, his body writhring as he gasped, still not regretting his actions, even trying to step forward in vain. His arms waved about, wildly, casting sparks into the crowd that were easily extinguished in the snow. The Slav stopped five steps in front of the door, and didn’t even scream as his body was finally consumed by the licking flames. He was dead, for sure, but his name, whatever it was, would likely live on in the annals of Yaliite history. His last act of defiance was intended to provoke a response from abroad, hopefully resulting in Yaliite independence. The people could but hope that someday, their dream of being an independent freedom would come true.
