Gilded Truth

Chapter One

The rolling of drums and gongs erupts around the capital, putting those in the streets at a halt. The wide and large screens flash the face of a man saluting the flag of the country. Everyone follows suit with great reverence and respect for the flag and their country. Like the azure and crimson colors of the flag, the sky blends in a wondrous hue of serenity. As the sun sets on the horizon so does the life in the eyes of the people below me, how they tolerate a life mechanized for them by this country.

The thunderous chant of the national anthem echoes around the capital as everyone watches and salutes the man on the screen. Patriotic it may seem to unite these people to sing the national anthem and to give salutations to the symbol of independence and sovereignty, but these people are nowhere from being free. They are canaries caged up by faux independence, shackled by lies and deception. Their so-called patriotism and unity are nothing but empty words—a result of fear and mass murder.

I stand up from where I'm crouching in the dark as I watch the people below me, these people are nothing but puppets of a broken system. And the victims of systemic oppression are regarded as mere workers for the elite. They are mere tools to create gold for those who will just shove it in their pockets for their good. My hands fiddle with the dagger on my hand, tossing it lightly. Its blade glimmers by the touch of the dwindling lights behind me. The anthem that disrupts the busy streets comes to a halt and news follows, the streets start to buzz into life. I watch as the face of the dictator flashes right in front, my stomach churns as I stare and listen to the news glorifying him. None of these are true. One could see in the eyes of those who are telling these stories that it was a result of fear, they are only following a script given and approved by the dictator. And that is why I am here, the sole reason why I am hiding in the dark. Why I am pushed to the point of no return. I will be the one who tells the truth.

Gunshots echo in the alleyway right below me. Panic-stricken people disperse as the authorities run after a man hugging a baguette wrapped in soiled cloth. My hands instinctively reach for the holster of my tranquilizer gun, every inch of me itches to pull it out as my eyes fixate on the scene happening right below me. I run towards the other side of the rooftop, lay flat on my stomach, and pull the tranquilizer gun out of its holster. Waiting for the right time to strike, the authorities point the gun at the man running ahead of them. They will kill the man once an opportunity opens for them. Taking that as my cue, I pull the trigger and the tranquilizer silently shoots towards the nape of one of the guards. He falls to the ground with a loud grunt and thud, lying there lethargic and asleep.

This has taken the other guard by surprise, halting in the middle of his sprint as he checks on his colleague. This gives the man who's running for his life the momentum to hide and navigate through the dark alleyway. A sense of satisfaction grows inside of me as I watch the guard below me stricken with confusion and fear, they have missed their bounty and an enemy in the dark intervenes, leaving them defenseless. The tranquilizer will leave his partner asleep for at least an hour and a half. I just hope that the man who ran to the dark alleyway would find his way home with a meal for his family.

This is the bitter reality of this world, leaders that should serve the people are the ones being revered and glorified, whilst the people who have nothing at all fight and run for their lives to answer their family's growling stomachs. Corruption could be overlooked but a simple crime of stealing a piece of bread would have one run with their bare feet. Justice is not for everyone but for those who can afford it, the rich can leave unscathed but the poor could only choose either to be gunned down or hide forever.

I turn my gaze towards the horizon, watching the glittering lights of the night sky, not from the stars but the bright lights of skyscrapers. As if these lights are stars on earth, it's ironic how the world around me is so bright and glittering heights, but in the darkest corners of this capital are the people whose hopes are already fading away, their faint light of hope slowly diminishing because of the broken system of this government.

Faint footsteps approach me, I glance back at the person coming toward me. "I see that you are here," Ivo's deep baritone voice reverberates in the silence around us. Veiled in black, gun on his holster, and daggers dangling by his side. He smells of musk and sweat, his hair slicked back. His caramel eyes follow my gaze to the cityscapes.

"How was the mission going?" I inquire. I hear his low chuckle beside me. His arm drapes on my shoulders, and I glare at him, but his smile widens even more. His fingers lightly pinch my cheeks. "Come on, Effe, is the mission the only thing that runs in your mind? You haven't asked me if I was able to escape unscathed." My eyebrow shot up, surveying Ivo's being. His tight bodysuit hugs every muscle of his body, one cannot deny that his body is quite lean with a perfect balance of muscles. His skin is a beautiful tan glowing once the light touches it, he's a ray of sunshine with his bright smile. "You're standing in front of me alive and kicking. You seemed usually fine to me, Ivo. Seemed that you still evade like a cat in every mission we deploy, Panther."

Ivo sighs and grunts helplessly as he runs his fingers through his hair. "We managed to get a few firearms from the armory before the alarm system went off," he reports. I look at him, expecting more news and he seems to get that it's the cue to report what happened to our subordinates. "Some of us were injured, but no lethal injury was reported. But we managed to save a renegade, he was battered badly and his skin is almost purple from all the bruises he sustained. His rib was broken along with his left arm." I wince at the thought of how much torture the renegade they were able to rescue went through. Just the thought of the ruthless guards of this new administration battering innocent people to the point that their entire bodies gave in to the pain. How many of these civilians that put their utmost trust in the authorities are then betrayed by the same set of people they have entrusted their lives to?

"How was the renegade?" I ask Ivo, I put my hand on the hilt of the dagger, gripping it till my knuckles turn white. Ivo's eyes gaze towards my hands and to my face before averting it to the city lights in front of us. "With how badly he was beaten up, we assume that he will need at least a month or two to heal from all the injuries he sustained. He was barely awake when we rescued him, if we came too late, he would be a lost cause." My jaws clench as I imagine how badly the ones they rescued were tortured by this government, even the simplest right to live of a person revolves in the palm of their hands.

I've been a witness to how cruel a government can be especially if the power would be consolidated in the hands of one leader—a dictator. Power in this world is nothing but a double-edged sword that could either build a nation or break it. My motherland unfortunately suffers from the latter, and everything unfolds right before my eyes.

At this point, you can only rely on yourself. You're lucky if you can find a society that will embrace you, that will risk their lives to hide you from all the dangers outside.

That's our fate as renegades, we will forever be outcasts in this society just because we fight for what is right. When the majority thinks they are right even when they're not, that is the start of prejudice against change. And that is why I exist. That is why we revolt.

When the world is slowly devoured by lies, there should be someone who should risk it all and tell the truth.