Dreams of Elysium - A Basileía Romaíon Mod AAR

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

August 17th, 1832

Prince Georgios Galantinos stood on the balcony of the palace, looking at the carriage coming towards him. Inside, he knew, was his dear father. While only 11 years of age, Georgios knew a few things of the politicial situation in Elysium. His father made sure to include him, despite his young age, in the details of what would one day be his to decide.

Well, some of it.

He knew the Communists wanted large changes to the country’s laws. He knew his friend, the son of his father’s once regent, had been murdered. It made his blood boil. When he was king, no one would be allowed to do such things unopposed. He would not allow it.

He knew he would do whatever he could to further Elysium’s prestige, industry and power – make it a great power, a power to be reckoned with. Secure the borders. Perhaps he could lead an army as their commander? Could a king do that?

As he dreamed of this future, he noticed something happening at the gate. The carriage of his father had stopped, surely father was speaking with the guard on duty Georgios thought to himself. His father loved to take good care of his people.

But what was that man running towards the carriage doing? Georgios’ got a chill down his spine. That man was carrying something in his hand.

Now he threw himself under the carriage.

The explosion’s wave almost sent him to the floor, even this far away. He looked down towards the carriage.

There was no carriage.

King Georgios Galantinos, second of his name, wept. And there and then swore vengeance on the world.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

September 28th, 1832

The young king sat in silence, as the memorial service for his dear departed father progressed. King Georgios Galantinos, first of his name, had been buried a few weeks ago, but now was the time for a final goodbye, as well as the imminent coronation of eleven-year-old king Georgios Galantinos, second of his name.

An hour, tops, and the priests of the Order of Olympos would anoint him. Georgios could hardly wait. Not on the coronation, but on the day he would rule in his own right. Oh, he would make sure to make a mark.

The priest talked and talked. About Hades, Olympos, gods and dedication. His father’s dedication. His line’s. Of the future of Elysium, oh so bright now that Georgios was about to get anointed.

He barely registered, deep in thought.

Then, a commotion.

A man, running towards him. Throwing something.

His regent, throwing himself upon Georgios.

A big bang.

A deep and sharp pain.

Silence.

He lived.

Another reason to make vengeance on the world.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

January 1st, 1833

Regent Marcian Doukas looked at the reports in front of him and scratched his chin. There were much to consider. The civil war was now inevitable. Elysian control over a majority of the country, the industry and population was lost. Parts of New Greece, the capital and the West was all that was left.

His grace’s government had control over a plurality of the armed forces, barely, though. And the HRE, their colony Louisiana and the Japanese colony in Alaska had been convinced to join their side.

Not surprising, seeing as the rebels were filthy Communists, a bane and threat to all things royal and traditional. The Red Scare was real. The stories about the excesses of the Communists were widespread, and some might even be true.

Doukas had made sure to spread the stories, they made good propaganda. The remaining Communists were on the backfoot and the support for the needed warfare was increasing.

The stories about planned strikes and terrorism was true, though. The secret police had uncovered several plots – both against the young king and other notables.

Doukas scratched his chin again.

The nationalization of women stories were too wild to be true though. He refused to believe them. Still, they made good propaganda. He made a note of making sure the loyalist news papers spread the stories.

He sighed.

Even though the king was committed to revenge, he hoped he could convince the young man to let his feelings be tempered by practicality. The king was not in charge, not yet, but it would be prudent for Doukas’ future standing in court if he didn’t make an enemy of him. Doukas was sure that if the Elysian kingdom were to survive, certain reforms were needed.

But how to convince a grieving twelve-year-old?

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

August 6th, 1833

Regent Marcian Doukas, courtesy the Copilot AI.

It had been surprisingly easy, regent Marcian Doukas thought to himself. The king, still a twelve-year-old and grieving had looked at him with steely, cold eyes and said, “so be it”.

With that, the regent had begun the work. War was raging, and it was going well. But he had to win the peace too.

And he had done so with giving the laborers of Elysium sweeping labor rights not seen in the kingdom before. No more would there be a free-for-all labor exploitation, but regulations and rights were given.

Not as sweeping as the rebels had wanted, of course. But the news had been received by the workers of the land with jubilation.

So he was told. The rebels, of course, condemned it as too little, too late. As they would.

Another win was how the remaining Communists in Elysium, in the parts that had not rebelled, had been cowed. Seeing the writing on the wall, both in the war itself as well as the mood in the country, the Communists had compromised, distancing themselves from the rebel cause. It was well. The Communists lost either way, but this way Elysium won even more.

He nodded to himself and took another cup of coffee.

Elysium would be all right.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

April 26th, 1840

King Georgios, second of his name, was elated. He was nineteen, adult, in charge of his country. His once regent, a dear friend by now, was his Prime Minister, and doing well.

But he was not elated because of being adult. Not even because of the imminent wedding to Theodora. No, he was elated because things were going to plan.

After the civil war was won in April 1834, he had still been a minor, having a voice, but barely, in public affairs. He had agreed with his regent that commercialized agriculture was a good choice for law change, as it had helped the economy boom even more. But it was boring. Economy was a tool.

Sure, in 1834 the economy was good, at 41.6 million ducats. Sure, when commercialized agriculture had been started to be voted on, less than a year later, it had been at 56.5 million ducats. Sure, in mid 1837 it had been a whooping 65 million ducats.

Economy was a means to a goal. His goal. A goal to make Elysium strong. A hegemon. A hegemon lead by him. So he had demanded Nordhafsvedr to submit to him, giving Elysium control over the Hudson Bay. Stupidly, the advisors had told him that they would be able to invade with the navy. Forgetting that the stupid navy could not enter due to ice. They had been sufficiently punished.

But he knew how to earn respect. So, he had demanded Vinland to let him enter. They did not agree. Who cared? He had a mighty, battle-hardened army and the entire HRE on his side. He had the upper hand. Sure, they had the North Sea Empire on theirs, but they were weak, a power with their glory days in the past.

So, the war happened. His army fought. His navy. His allies. And Nordhafsvedr had fallen. As had Vinland. Stupidly, he couldn’t just demand Vinland to submit too. Stupid diplomatic rules. They would fall, later. He swore it.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

October 11th, 1854

King Georgios II smirked.

It had gone to plan. Almost. He had never expected the motherland to go up against him. Basileía Romaíon, the motherland that had given birth to his kingdom, the country which while far away had always had a special relationship with Elysium. They had tried to stop him. Him.

He swore under his breath. The betrayal raw, still, two and a half years later.

It had begun with him demanding that the pitiful Kalmar Union – that was the new name of the North Sea Empire now – that they give up control over Vinland to him. To Elysium, he corrected himself mentally.

Vinland belonged to him. Elysium. Louisiana was off limits since he still needed the HRE on his side. He still was mighty irritated he could not get out of the economic union with the HRE without defaulting. They were too important to his kingdom due to their vast resources.

One day, he promised himself, he would break the shackles. Not the alliance, mind. Just make sure to get his own market again. With that, his kingdom would become a great power in her own right, not beholden to anyone. Not even the HRE.

The economy was booming, of course. When he ordered protectionism gone and get free trade, Elyisum had a GPD of 77.3 million. That was in 1841. When the war started in 1852, it had soared to 113.5 million. When the Kalmar Union caved in half a year ago, it had grown to 122.6 million. Elysium, his Elysium, was soaring towards the stars.

He grinned. His.

In January, Copenhagen fell. The mighty city of the Kalman Union. Under his thumb. His rule, if only for a short while. His mercy.

He almost laughed out loud. But that would not be proper. Not now, with the family around the dinner table.

He took a bite of the steak. Juicy. Bloody. Just as he liked it.

He looked at his wife and kids. She was pretty, but stupid. The kids were small. They better prove to be taking after him. Alexandros the most of them all. His heir. He was tall for his age, at least. Twelve years old, about the time kids started really growing.

Yes, he had potential.

He had in the end threatened to invade Basileía Romaíon proper. It had been unnecessary; he had no demands from them. Not this time anyways. But they didn’t want to give up fighting.

Though, in the end, they did, as his armies neared their shores.

It was good to be the king. Even better when his supposed superior – his eyes darkened – supposed was the word – gave up.

He was, for sure, not finished.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

August 16th, 1866

King Gerogios II leaned back in his chair and grinned. What a decade this had been. What a reign his was. Since the great war that had given him Vinland, everything had gone according to plan.

The economy, ever booming.

Nordhafsvedr submitting to direct rule in late 1859.

Ah, yes. The economy again. Elysium was a favored people. His people. His. And it was protected – more than ever – from the increased navy and army that his reign had given Elysium the resources to handle.

Urbanization continued. Population boomed.

And now Vinland had been incorporated into the realm. Not peacefully, but by force. Again.

No matter. Vinland was his. Nordhafsvedr was his. And, thus: North America, all the empty lands up north, no longer claimed by anyone, was his. Elysium’s. His.

His was a multiethnic, multireligious empire. Prosperous. Mighty. With him at the helm.

Even his disgrace of some children could not ruin his day. Not today. Nothing could.

He was started by a quick knock on the door.

His aide.

He looked irritated, yet quizzically on the young man.

The aide swallowed.

“Sir. Vinland has risen in revolt. We are at war.”

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

October 16th, 1875

After Vinland fell, oh so deliciously easy – with no one supporting them and his forces swarming the lands…. He shivered in pure glee. After Vinland fell, revenge had been so sweet. “Grand Prince” Gustaf von Wittelsbach had been captured, presented before him. Had to bow down. All the way down. Plead for mercy. Plead.

It had been a good time. His children would never see their father again. So small, never would they even remember him. Georgios had them relocated to some small, rural nowhere. Placed under the care of some wretched people he had made sure were not fit to raise children.

The wife… She had to see her kids sent away, knowing she would never see them again. Then she had been sent to the forest, far away from civilization, given some meagre, rotten rations. And left behind. He wondered if she had survived.

No matter. Gustaf had been given the…tour of dis dungeon. The secret one. The one no one ever left alive. Gustaf was, of course, no longer alive.

Elsyium, meanwhile, was prospering. As ever. The American West, populated by immigrants en masse, all becoming proper Elysians in due time. A fairy tale. But a true one.

Then, in 1874: The sweet chance of war with the Anahuac at the southern border. Not much, merely a sliver of land, but as soon as they were beaten, the next time would be so much easier. Al-Andalus would be stronger, sure. But that was allright. They had their power base in the south. And in the Old World. North America was to be his. Elysian.

And it had worked. Anahuac was done for, and the peace was to be signed by his representatives later today. He wanted to go himself, to see the defeated in the eyes. But he didn’t feel well. Something that was happening more often lately. His doctors found nothing wrong with him. There better not be. He had work to do. And he had no time for illness. Zeus knew he could not delegate to his inept son. Alexandros was not fit. Never would be.

So Georgios needed to be of sound heath, each day. For a long time. Perhaps his grandchild would turn out better. Alexandros could then be moved aside.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

May 14th, 1878

King Alexandros Galantinus, first of his name, shivered. Father, dead. Father, who never was around. Never believed in him, his oldest son.

“Father”, he whispered into the nothingness that surrounded him, here he sat alone in the temple, with his deceased parent next to him.

“Father, I know I am not worthy. I never was.”

A tear formed, running down his cheek. He knew he wasn’t ready. Never would be. Father had told him, and father always was right. Alexandros was 36 years of age, a grown man, with a wife and a child of his own. He knew he should be ready, but somehow, he wasn’t. He never should have been king. Someone else should’ve. Someone fit to bear the crown.

He turned to the dead man next to him. Even in death his father had this harsh streak to his face.

He sighed.

“Ready or not, I am king.” He muttered silently.

He had to become ready. Somehow. His father had made Elysium strong. Colonization was well underway, deep into Canada. Vinland and Nordhafsvedr was one with the rest of the country. Unified. The colonies were thriving.

What could he do, if not continue the work of Georgios II? Find a way to emulate, try to meet his standards, strive to become what he knew he was not?

Yes. He had to do that. Seize the opportunities. Be ready when they presented themselves. Be better than he dared believe.

It felt good to think like this. Yet, thinking only got you so far.

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

August 3rd, 1879

King Alexandros Galantinus, first of his name, smiled sadly. This was good, wasn’t it? Surely father would approve?

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He did not belong here, in this chair, this seat, with this crown.

Did he?

He turned. His wife, oh his beautiful wife. She stood there, smiling at him. His dear, kind, wonderful wife.

“How did the meeting go, my dear?”

She wrinkled her nose.

“Alexandros. I know that look. You are more than good enough. Your dreadful father, he is gone and you are his better. Please, you need to start believing it. Believe in yourself. Like I believe in you.”

She stroke his bare head.

“Just you at you, so tall and strong. You have inner strength you don’t know, my dear.”

Alexandros nodded, slowly.

“I want to believe, Persephone. I do. Really. But it is hard.”

He pointed to his desk.

“As for the meeting, it was good. More than good. Pomerania signed the peace proposal. They are, again, a loyal vassal of Sweden. And Finland is, as agreed upon when we approached Sweden, ours.”

He smiled, more broadly now.

“Elysium has a vassal – a foothold – in Europe. Not the most conveniently placed, but it is ours.”

Persephone smiled warmly.

“See? My darling, you are capable. This was you. All you. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, especially not the ghost of your father.”

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

June 19th, 1881

“I am so proud of you, darling!”

Persephone smiled broadly.

“You did this by your own power, as king of Elysium. You saw potential, and you dared. Don’t let anyone or anything take that from you, dear.”

(Created with Copilot.)

King Alexandros Galantinus smiled weakly. Did she really mean it? She had to, he could see it in her eyes.

He nodded.

“I think this can be an important turning point.”

He corrected himself.

“No, I know this is an important turning point. By securing Anahuac as a vassal Elysium’s southern border is secured, and only the semi friendly Japanese colonies in Alaska is left on our borders which is not wholly friendly. Louisiana after all is a colony of our ally the HRE.”

He nodded, more firmly that he ever thought he could ever be.

“And by annexing Jiazhou, we get a firm foothold on the Pacific coast and frees up the remainder of the coast for colonization. Two birds, one stone.”

He frowned.

“But Ming is strong.”

Persephone laughed the way he always found so endearing.

“My love, Ming is strong, but not as strong as Elysium and the HRE together. The fight will not be easy, but it will be won. Elysium believes in you. I believe in you. You and me, together we will make your legacy.”

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

November 20th, 1883

“This is going too slow, this is going too slow, this is going too slow…”

King Alexandros Galantinus muttered to himself, while walking back and forth frantically.

His wife, Persephone, stood silently at the door.

Finally, the spoke.

“The economy can take it, my dear. The military too. It will be hard, for a while, but we are winning.”

Her husband looked darkly at the floor.

“In March, we had barely seen the red. Now we’re close to bankruptcy, and peace is nowhere to be seen.”

He sighed.

“Father was right. I…”

Persephone raised her voice.

“Your father was a fool. A damnable fool. He did not see clearly. Certainly not with regards to his children. Certainly not with regards to you!”

Alexandros looked up.

“But…”

She shook her head.

“No buts. You are king, and a darn good one too. You care. Your father was a waste of space, compared to you.”

She smiled weakly.

“Look. We might be close to bankruptcy, while at war. When we have won this war, the economy will bloom again. Our armies are mightier than the enemy’s. Ming is already bankrupt, and they are far off. Jiazhou is almost as well. Our spies tell us Anahuac is as bad off as we, possibly worse. And after some initial setbacks, our armies are advancing.”

She paused, sighed and said:

“We are, believe me, winning.”

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

April 4th, 1884

“The people are tired, Persephone. How am I going to live this down if the Parliament gives up before the war is won?”

King Alexandros Galentinus paced back and forth on the floor.

“I mean, we are so close!”

He looked despairing up.

“What if…”

He paused.

A tear.

“What if Father was right after all? Wha…”

Persephone held up a hand.

“What if, my dear husband, he was not?”

She smiled.

“Yes, the people are tired. Yes, the economy is struggling – to say the least. But!”

She grinned.

“But after months upon months of slow progress, our generals report a breach in their lines. We are winning on all fronts. Jiazhou is fully occupied, half of Anahuac is also, and as soon as the capital of Anaghuac – which is within reach now – no one can deny us – you – the victory.”

She nodded.

“Yes, my dear. It was a hard fight. Harder than anticipated. But you gambled and won. Now only the mop-up remains.”

 

[Nikolai]

Pronoia, Elysium

January 3rd, 1887

It had been a grueling time. The country had sacrificed a lot. Too much, perhaps. Perhaps. But in the end, the war was won!

King Alexandros Galantinus smiled.

Persephone had been right.

She always was right. Zeus, he was happy Father had let him marry for love. One of the few gifts he had given him.

He shook his head. A father should care more. He would care more for his children. On that, he swore before the gods. And Persephone. Zeus, he loved her.

He had given a speech late in the war, around the time the troops of Elysium left Anahuac, beaten and in default – and occupied, not the least – for Asia. The threat of invasion had finally scared them to the peace table.

The speech was heartfelt. He really cared, and he hoped his subjects knew. He had told his people sacrifices had been made by them, and now was his time to share in them. He vowed to eat like a peasant, travel to them and listen to their plight, send people he trusted to hear those he could not meet.

And he had done so. Cut the imperial spending by 80% on his household, given from his personal treasury. All Persephone’s idea, and it was a good idea. Zeus, what would have done without her? What would he have been without her?

A wreck for sure. Probably without a throne, without hope. She was his all.

And now the war was over. The economy was hurting, but he knew that as long as he did not entangle himself in another war, the surplus was large enough to repay most of the debt before the turn of the century.

The industrialization, the economy, was growing at immense speed even without government spending on growing it. The capitalists were investing like crazy. Living standards were rising, fast. Colonization into Canada and the remaining parts of California was going full speed. New immigrants were coming to both the West Coast and East Coast in thousands – tens of thousands.

Anahuac were being pacified and the country would soon adjust to be a part of Elysium’s sphere of influence. He hoped. For now, the southern border was secure. Aside from the Japanese colony up north and Louisiana in the southwest, all was Elysium or natives. And Lousiana was the HRE’s colony. And the HRE were his allies.

Although, he had a plan for the HRE. Elysium was a Great Power in her own right, if not for her dependence on the HRE market. If he left it to make Elysium truly independent, also economically, the economy would crash. But with the economic growth and the immigrants flooding into the country, his advisors told him Elysium might achieve economic independence in a decade or so, perhaps sooner.

As long as public spending did not follow suit and grow out of control. Like a new war. So no, he would not go to war. It cost too much lives anyway. The war with Anahuac had been necessary, but now it was time to build for peace. As long as Elysium was strong enough to deter wars of aggression towards her, and she was – at the moment at least – there would be peace in his time on the throne.

That he swore. For him, for his children, for his people, and – most of all – for his Persephone.


FIN