FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Part 19 - A Guide to the Past

(Nathan)

After Erik's problematic stint alone in the shop, Alexei opted to spend the following day working alongside him. He gave his reason for doing as being down the busyness that sometimes followed Sunday's closure, though Nathan suspected it more to do with keeping a close eye on his apprentice. He also wondered how much of a part the chase back to the shop had played in Alexei's decision to stay indoors. Either way, Nathan didn't mind. He certainly had no desire to bump into Yuri and his gang so soon again.

To his surprise, the day spent watching his wolf working and interacting with customers (several of whom reacted to Nathan with surprise and joyful curiosity) turned out to be a lot of fun. In fact, when Alexei offered him a small section of sandpaper and pointed towards an intricately designed wood panel, he couldn't resist beaming with delight.

"Little Polcian paws will be more able to get deep into the patterns," Alexei explained. "Would you like to help me?"

"Of course, I'd love to!" Nathan didn't know how much help he could offer at his size, but the prospect of being able to contribute to the physical work of the shop gave him a strong sense of worth.

By the time Tuesday morning had arrived, Erik had earned back enough of Alexei's confidence to be left to tend the shop while he and Nathan journeyed off into the city.

"Here we are, Nate. The museum," the wolf announced, moving from the busy city street into the large, paved grounds of the former palace. A brisk wind and overcast skies saw him don his leather jacket, which in turn allowed his guest a more comfortable ride within its padded pocket.

"This is pretty classy for a museum," Nathan replied, gazing up at the looming stone arch flanked by thick columns that comprised the entrance. The twin domes atop the structure, painted in blue and yellow swirling stripes, gave it a unique presence amongst the neighbouring buildings. "It's amazing that a palace would be turned into one."

"It happened shortly after the war... we may learn more inside." Alexei muttered, his obvious discomfort over the conflict setting Nathan worrying about whether he'd made an error in asking to come here. 'I need to find out more though. After all, we can leave if it gets too much. Things'll be fine.'

At the centre of the museum's front courtyard stood the massive bronze statue that Nathan remembered vividly from their last visit to this area of town. The sculpture depicted what could have been a female coyote, or more likely a vixen given its location in the world.

Unlike the first time, being in such close proximity to the figure allowed Nathan to see both her mournful expression, along with that of young fox whose little paw she clasped.

Fastened to the stone base, a brass plaque inscribed with Velikan text caught Nathan's eye. "What's that say, Alex?"

Alexei peered down as he casually strolled past the statue. "It reads 'For the sons and daughters, fathers and mothers who were lost. We remember you.'"

Nathan's ears dipped, both at the solemness of the inscription and the discomfort in his wolf's voice. 'Sounds like something from back home... It's hard to imagine them feeling the same pain as us about the war.'

A short walk onwards saw the pair move up the front steps, entering the museum's main foyer via a quick stop at the ticket office. Loud, echoing footsteps upon polished marble flooring resonated throughout the crowded, expansive hall. Several huge pictures hung from the rich, burgundy walls, most of which featured portraits of various figures of apparent regality.

Nathan searched the hall, trying to spot any sign of a Polcian presence amidst the bustling crowd of Velikan tourists. Despite his best efforts, he could find no raised walkways, no smaller entrances, no trace of another Polcian whatsoever. Even so, he remained somewhat relaxed. None of the other museum patrons appeared annoyed about his being there. In fact, other than an excitable young otter pup waving his webbed paws, yelling to his parents about the_"-Polciek-"_he'd spotted, no-one seemed to be paying Nathan any particular attention whatsoever.

"Come," Alexei muttered, hanging a right from where they'd entered and padding slowly through the crowd towards a wooden archway. "This is where we can find the area about 'The Polcian Conflict'."

Sat beyond the open doorway, a wide corridor flanked by glass cabinets full of various exhibits awaited them. At the other end of the passageway lied another identical archway, leading into what appeared to be another large hall filled with yet more displays.

Nathan carefully studied what he could of his surroundings, taking in the diagrams, models and photographs of various pieces of historic aircraft and weaponry. Several blocks of Velikan text accompanied each of them, presumably dedicated to explaining about their application during the conflict. He wanted desperately to know more, to understand the text, but remained wary of upsetting Alexei as he lumbered slowly on by with noticeably less intrigue. In the end, Nathan's interest in the subject matter would win out.

"Hey, Alex." He pointed to his right at one model in particular; a large aircraft with thick wings and four propeller-driven engines attached to them. "What does that writing say about this?"

The wolf stopped, his ears beginning to creep back. "This... was a transporter." He took a step towards to the glass display, focusing closer on the written description. "Planes like this, they were used to carry Velikan soldiers past the Polcian defenses that bomber aircraft had already destroyed." Alexei paused, his ears flicking lower. "Soldiers would jump from them and parachute into your cities... before advancing. This says that the missions were not always successful. Many times, the transports would be shot down by the guns that bombers could not hit, or were shot down by before attacking."

"I see." Nathan responded shortly, suspecting Alexei wouldn't appreciate a lengthy conversation about the subject. "Thanks for explaining."

They started off again, continuing on past several other displays containing archaic, wood-laminated rifles and submachine guns. For these, Nathan didn't require a translation to gain an understanding of their purpose.

The passage soon gave way to the exhibition hall proper. At its centre, larger scale models of aircraft hung from the high ceiling, while seafaring vessels sat positioned beneath them. Smaller exhibits meanwhile spiderwebbed off away from this central display towards the outer walls.

"I... don't... where should we start, Alex?"

Alexei stopped walking just after entering, appearing equally lost as he silently scanned the room with ears still half-lowered.

"-Privyet-"

Nathan glanced left to where the greeting's origin, spotting a young, stocky raccoon slowly striding through the rows of displays towards them. His neat appearance, a dark blue shirt, formal trousers and polished black shoes, along with the gleaming silver name tag on his chest quickly marked him out as a museum employee.

He hunkered down as the ringtail neared, half-trying to hide himself away while wondering what reaction his presence would win. After all, staffing a place loaded with reminders of the bitter war their people fought and lost would give someone plenty of reason to hate the old enemy, wouldn't it?

The raccoon stopped before Alexei, his muzzle hanging chest-height with the wolf and only a little higher than where Nathan sat. He offered out his paw with a smile, to which Alexei responded by clasping and shaking it cordially.

Nathan remained cautiously quiet while the two Velikans conversed together in their native tongue, staying partially hidden within his leather compartment. From his vantage, he spotted the name 'Milan' printed upon the metallic name tag hanging a short distance below. At the end of their brief exchange, the worker stepped back and cast his brown eyes downwards.

Even though the raccoon had shown no signs of hostility, Nathan just couldn't shift his sense of unease at the masked face looming above him. Instinctively, he pressed back against Alexei's chest, feeling his mouth go dry and his heart begin to beat faster.

"Hello there. My name is Milan." The short, white muzzle of the ringtail creased up with a smile. He crouched slightly, bringing his eyeline level with Nathan's. "I am a guide here in this area of the museum."

"H-hey," Nathan murmured, glaring at the black-furred paw extending towards him.

"Please, don't be afraid," Milan replied, offering out his index finger. His accent sounded a lot subtler and more neutral than usual for a Velikan, even more so than Erik's. "I don't wish to hurt you."

"It is okay, Nate." Alexei moved a paw to his chest and pressed the husky against him, helping to bring him from his fearful shell.

Sheepishly, Nathan reached out and wrapped his paw around the raccoon's digit. "Sorry. I'm just sometimes..."

Milan nodded and grinned, gently shaking his finger. "Don't apologise. I understand." He stood back up to his full height and twisted to gesture around the hall. "As I have said, I am a guide here. Your friend, Alexei, has explained that you may like to be shown around our exhibition."

Nathan smiled for probably the first time since entering the museum. "That'd be great. I'm hoping to learn more about... the war, so any help would be appreciated. Thank you." He looked up at Alexei with his last, making sure to include him in his thanks.

"No problem at all. It is always good to meet people who are interested in learning of this period," Milan replied, spinning on his heels so that his striped, bushy tail bobbed about behind him. "Please, follow me."

With Alexei and Nathan in tow, the guide strode off towards one of the many 'arms' of exhibits extending from the central area. They passed several other visitors, including a small group of children dressed in school uniform. Gathered around their tutor, a brown-furred vixen, they listened intently as she presented the display before them. 'Takes me back.'

"First, I can tell you about this museum," Milan announced, spreading his arms. "It was once a royal residence; the biggest outside of the main palace in Zelengorod. When the royal family were overthrown by the military government, these buildings were seized and turned into additional facilities such as command centres and barracks. After the war ended, the leaders of this government were jailed, executed or fled. This led to these formerly great buildings falling into disuse and disrepair. It is during this time that this palace was turned into a museum by the newly elected, post-war leadership. They hoped that it would serve as a link to both the bright times and darker days of Velika's past for anyone who wished to learn of it."

As Milan neared the conclusion of his first delve into the past, Nathan began to notice the dozens of black and white photographs arranged within a line of tall glass displays either side of them. It didn't take him long to determine their subject matter. "That's Polcia."

The raccoon's ears perked. "It is." He stopped, turning to face the display on his right. "I am sure that you have seen images such as these when you have learned of the war back home, yes?"

"Yeah... back in school mostly." Nathan studied the collection further. Several photos captured the immediate aftermath of Velika's opening coastal bombardment, showing the resulting devastation suffered by towns and cities belonging to several different nations, including Linvendia. Other images depicted infantry on the ground, advancing along rubble-strewn streets they literally filled with their booted paws. Some soldiers posed jovially for the camera, laying down their weapons and using their surroundings to highlight their size. For one photo, a grinning mouse had sat himself down atop a damaged, three-floored apartment building, holding a car in his paws so that it resembled a toy. Nathan peered closer, trying unsuccessfully to determine if any Polcians remained trapped inside. The image that would truly stay with him however, would be the photograph of a bombed out underground raid shelter, the kind that civilians relied upon for safety during any potential 'macro attack'.

Nathan swallowed hard, trying unsuccessfully to keep his ears from folding and his tail from tucking. He glanced over at Milan, then up to Alexei, both of whom looked somewhere between sad and sympathetic.

"These are not images that are celebrated," the guide stated, dipping his muzzle, "but they are important to have on display. They are needed to understand what happened in the war, and how certain events led to others."

Milan moved off once again, prompting Alexei to gently rub down Nathan's back and lean towards him. "If you wish to leave," he whispered, "all you must do is tell me, okay?"

"Thanks." The husky smiled, turning to nose at Alexei's paw. "I'll be okay though."

As the pair continued to follow their guide, the exhibits' subject matter eventually changed from the assault on Polcia to domestic events that occurred in Velika.

The raccoon made another stop, gesturing to the displays that flanked them. "What is often unknown to people who were not living in Velika at this time is the sheer scale of public unrest that occurred here."

Nathan observed the new set pictures around him, apparently arranged to resemble a timeline. The first batch of images showed thousand-strong groups of Velikans marching through the streets with various signs and banners on display. Some photos even depicted citizens of Polcian and Velikan origin protesting side-by-side, with the former riding in the paws, or upon the shoulders of the latter.

"I've never seen a photo like this... Velikans and Polcians together," Nathan stated.

"It was common before war," Alexei answered with a small smile, piping up before their guide had a chance. "When we all lived together here."

The next batch of images were far less pleasant. They showed protesters being heavily outnumbered and brutally dispersed by swarms of their fellow citizens. In one picture, a bloodied Velikan demonstrator could be seen shielding his smaller counterpart from the striking fists of an enraged counter-protester.

"This was the point in history where people of all sizes truly living together ended in this country," Milan explained, studying the photographs himself. "The military government succeeded in turning a large number of Velikans against Polcians, blaming them for many of the problems that led to the conflicts between this nation and its neighbours. As a result, in the build up to this second war, many Polcians here were attacked by their fellow citizens, their belongings and property stolen and smashed while the police either turned a blind eye... or helped them."

Nathan kept his eyes on the picture of the faltering protest, seeing the intensity with which the protester protected his smaller friend, even as he suffered a vicious beating. "What about the Velikans who_weren't_ turned against us?"

Milan's expression soured. "Those who sympathised for Polcians were called traitors by those who supported the government and also attacked. Often, they were arrested and locked up by the military police for their views. Many times... they would be killed."

Nathan's jaw dropped at that revelation. "I had no idea that such large numbers of Velikans supported us. We're taught that there were some... but it was made to sound like a tiny percentage, certainly not enough to stage these huge protests. I never knew that they were subjected to the same kind of violence as Polcians living here either."

"Many were unconvinced that Polcians were their enemy," the raccoon replied. "After all, they were colleagues, friends, even family to a large number of Velikans."

"What about the propaganda? I thought the dictatorship that seized power were effective in convincing people because of their popularity after winning the war with their neighbours?"

"They had popularity after winning this war, the War of the Republics, but in the years between this and the unrest before The Polcian Conflict, they had lost much of it. Maintaining mandatory conscription, even in times of peace, was very unpopular, even more so considering those who refused the draft were sent to prison. It also made the prospect of a new war much more unsettling."

Alexei cleared his throat loudly, entering himself into the conversation. "This is why my grandfather does not speak of the war, Nate, and why he fought when he did not wish to."

Milan nodded understandingly before continuing. "There was_so much_ oppression from the military police against those who did not share in the leadership's ideology. The overthrow and execution of the royal family when the dictatorship first took power was also something a number of people were against, and only added to the dissident voices when the threat of war grew close."

"If so many opposed them, why didn't more people take a stand? Why didn't a civil war break out?" Nathan huffed, thoughtfully rubbing his muzzle. "I know it's easy for me to say these things, but it sounds like it was pretty terrible to live under this regime if you didn't agree with it."

"It is because any protest or demonstration against the government, like the ones in these pictures, were so violently suppressed by their forces and their supporters. The families of protesters would be also be targeted as payback. In the face of this, many citizens of both Polcian and Velikan descent chose instead to flee to other countries. Tens, maybe even hundreds of thousands of people left Velika. The most popular destination was Bolstrovo... In fact, my grandparents on my father's side were amongst them.

"Oh," Nathan replied, surprised. "You're Bolstrovan?"

"That's correct. Born and raised there."

"Explains your accent, and your great Polcian."

"Thank you." The raccoon grinned. "It helps to be bilingual back home."

"Hey." Alexei poked gently at the husky, growling playfully. "Are you saying I do not have great Polcian?"

"Yours is great too, Wolf," Nathan answered, patting at his chest. He turned back to Milan. "So, how did you end up here?"

"I studied history back home, but there is only so much that can be learned of the war there since Bolstrovo remained neutral. Since people of my size cannot go to the Polcian continent, I came here after leaving school to study more of the history of the war. After this, I became a guide here to share my knowledge."

Another few minutes passed, by which time Nathan and Alexei had been escorted to a compact section of displays in the rear right hand corner of the exhibition hall. As they approached, none of the displays cabinets stood visible from outside the enclosure that their layout had created. As they made another stop, Nathan noticed a discrete red sign marking off the area. He couldn't read it, but the white exclamation mark above the Velikan text made its nature clear.

"Okay, this is the final section that I think you will find of interest." Milan maintained his polite smile, though his small ears had noticeably dipped. "This is where the close of the conflict is covered. I wish to warn you that some of the images show the results of the chemical weapon attacks on Velika... They are not pleasant." He gestured towards the entrance to the exhibit. "Knowing this, would you like to enter?"

"I... sure." Nathan paused, quickly glancing up and meeting Alexei's eyes. "If that's okay with you?" The wolf responded with a subtle nod, hesitantly following their guide on through.

Milan's words of warning proved to be justified once they'd moved inside. While not as numerous as in the other exhibits, the pictures here were certainly more graphic. A number of them captured the injuries sustained by both soldiers and civilians from the attack. Most suffered substantial fur loss, while others had also been inflicted with horrific blistering and discoloration of their skin. One photo in particular was hard look at.

A young Velikan wolf, barely out of her teens, had suffered all three afflictions to an alarming degree, leaving her unconscious in a hospital bed. Her grief-stricken mother meanwhile sat watching over her, powerless to help as life seemed to drift from her body.

"These are the pictures probably most suitable for display." Milan stated, his ears still low. "A lot of people were affected by the attacks."

"I don't..." Nathan held his queasy stomach, turning from the unpleasantness around him. "I was told that it was mostly military people that were affected. Not that that's any better, just... I'm surprised at the number of images of normal people there are here."

"It is true that military facilities were targets for the Polcian attack forces, and that the chemical agent they used was mixed into the secure water supplies of the military. However... the residential supplies of four of Velika's main cities were also targeted, Kremensk being one of them."

"That can't be right?" Nathan choked out his unsettled response. He looked up at Alexei, who had remained perfectly silent since entering this section of the exhibition. "Maxim said... that some civilians were killed, but we were taught that the military was their main target."

The wolf smiled sadly, holding the husky closer to his chest. "No... I am thinking that is not correct."

"The attacks..." Nathan turned back to Milan as he took a step towards him. "Their mission was to cause as big an impact as possible."

"Yeah, in order to shock Velika into surrender." He tried hard, but couldn't completely mask his rising anger. "To show them that we weren't helpless. That we_could_fight back."

"Yes... and what better way to do this than to harm as many people, military_and_civilian, as possible? Polcia's nations had been fighting for a year. Many cities had been lost and they had begun to run out of ammunition for the advanced weaponry they relied upon to hold off the attacking forces. Polcia needed to end the war, or they would lose. This was their final hope."

Nathan squeezed the bridge of his muzzle between thumb and index finger pads. "This isn't what we were taught."

Milan clasped his paws together, smiling sympathetically once again. "Both sides are guilty of covering up what they are most ashamed of. For example, it is only in the last few years that the more violent pictures from Polcia have been made public here."

The husky didn't reply. Instead he dwelled on the idea that he and the rest of his country, his continent, had been so callously lied to. He knew, or at least suspected that some of what he'd been told about the war had been tinged with hyperbole, or had certain aspects cut out. To find out that the much celebrated, heroic final strike made against Velika had actually been tantamount to a war crime: this he just couldn't comprehend.

"In total, almost half a million people were killed across the cities of Zelengorod, Kremensk, Sokolka and Novolesk. The vast majority were women and children, since many Velikan men had been drafted into the armed forces and were fighting overseas at this time. It is this attack that scars the minds of the generations that had to endure it, and is remembered by those Velikans who still harbour distrust and ill-feelings towards Polcia."

"My gods." Nathan shook his head, unable to make eye contact with either Milan or Alexei. "That's... terrible."

"I agree, but... it is not something you should be sorry for."

He cocked his head, gradually working up to meet the raccoon's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"_You_did not do this. I'm thinking your parents did not do this either. It's something that happened fifty years ago." Milan quickly turned his focus upwards. "I don't know how Alexei feels, as I am not Velikan... but it's my opinion that this attack, while horrific, is somewhat understandable given the fact that millions of Polcians had been killed in the year between it and the war starting. Polcia needed to end the conflict, and they succeeded. The Velikan public and the conscripts stationed both at home and on the frontline were sick of a war that proved far tougher than the military expected. This attack finally turned the public against the dictatorship controlling them, forcing it to give up power and attempt to flee."

"_I_would like just to forget all about this horrible time in history," Alexei replied. "Move forward and live in peace."

"I would too," the ringtail stated, "but I think that we should never forget this time; a time when the power-hungry seized power and convinced its population that a war that killed seven million people would be the answer to their economic and social problems. War is hell, and we should_always_ remember this. All people around the world should look at what happened in this conflict and say 'never again'."

Nathan and Alexei spent the next half hour discussing more of the war with Milan, as well as his home country, Bolstrovo. The raccoon detailed his experiences growing up in a place where people of all sizes integrated in day-to-day life. He mentioned his childhood home; a two-storey row house, the end wall of which had been extended to house fifteen storeys of Polcian-sized apartments. The nationwide underground subway systems and expansive walkways also got a mention, as did his high school history professor: a hare of Polcian descent.

Once these topics had been exhausted, they each said their goodbyes and parted ways. Nathan made sure to thank their guide thoroughly for sharing his knowledge, to which Milan stated he always enjoyed talking with people looking to learn more about the past. He also recommended they pay a visit Bolstrovo should they ever get the chance. "You would enjoy it. It's not often I see a Velikan and Polcian here with as a good relationship as you two have. There are problems, just like anywhere, back home, but it's a lot like Velika before the troubles."

"He was... very passionate," Alexei muttered, padding down the stone steps of the museum and beginning across the front courtyard.

"Knew his stuff, too," Nathan replied. "I... really didn't know we did that to you."

"It is history, Nate."

"Yeah, but... I'm amazed we're not hated by_all_ Velikans, let alone that damn gang." Alexei stopped beneath the shadow of the bronze vixen statue, peering down at Nathan with a look of bemusement. "What? For the love of the gods, we killed half a million women and children in that attack and there's a good chance a lot of them didn't even agree with the war. To top it off, it's something we celebrate back home because we choose to gloss over these facts. It's pretty horrific, isn't it?"

"Did you not hear the rest of what the guide said? Did you not see the photos from Polcia? Both sides did bad things, and it is Velika that started the war."

"I guess, but--"

"It is possible to say that all Polcians should hate Velikans for this reason also. We did many more terrible things..." Alexei drifted off. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he wrapped both paws around the little husky in his pocket and hugged him to his chest. "I am just glad that_you_ do not hate all Velikans."

Nathan pressed his nose into the wolf's paws, enjoying the comforting warmth and pressure they generated. "Likewise, Alex."

"Let us not speak of this. Remembering the past is important, yes, but thinking of the future is important also."

They carried on out of the museum grounds moments later, moving onto the busy city streets to head back to the bus stop. After his eye-opening experience, Nathan couldn't help but look at the crowd of Velikans on the street with more caution. 'How can they just forget about what we did? Have us live here with them?'

"So," Alexei stated, snatching the husky from his musing. "It is still quite early in the afternoon. What shall we do now?"

"I'm open to anything, really. Maybe get something to eat while we're in the city?"

"This sounds good to start. And after this?"

Nathan rubbed his muzzle thoughtfully, struggling to take his mind off of the lessons learned on the museum trip. "How about your grandfather?"

The wolf's ears shot up. "My grandfather?"

"Yeah. Didn't we say last night that we'd pay him a visit sometime? Try and bring him round?"

"We did, but... I thought you would not want to do this so soon."

"No time like the present, right? After all, I wanted to get his viewpoint on things first. I reckon I've got that now."

Alexei stopped, standing to one side of the pavement to allow other pedestrians to pass. "Are you sure? I would like to, but--"

"Well that settles it then. You want to, I want to."

"Okay, if you are happy to." Alexei gave a wide, lupine grin. "Let us go to visit my grandfather."

Nathan would have been lying if he'd claimed his resolve had not faltered at least a little during the bus ride back to South Kremensk. He felt calm, certain of himself for most of the journey, though this changed once they rolled past the bus stop closest to Alexei's shop and on into parts unknown.

For the next ten minutes, he battled with his doubts over whether Maxim would be willing to listen to what he had to say, and even considered calling the visit off on more than one occasion. When they arrived and exited the bus, stepping out onto a hillside street overlooking the city centre however, he knew he couldn't turn back.

"Do you think we should have called him first? He might not be in," Nathan suggested as Alexei turned to walk up the path of a quaint, rustic-style townhouse. The light blue paintwork had begun to chip from the wooden boards of the porch roof, while the flower beds lining the pathway itself contained more weeds than plantlife.

"He will be in," Alexei replied confidently, striding up the creaking steps to the porch. "I am sure of this." He reached out for the doorbell, starting it chiming before stepping back to wait patiently.

After a minute and two further rings of the bell, the house remained lifeless. "You're sure you're sure?"

"Yes," the wolf gruffed, reaching out to chime the bells a third time. With Alexei's paw an inch away, a loud clunk could be heard from the other side of the door, making the little husky jump in nervous shock.

The wooden door slowly swung inwards, revealing the elder grey wolf standing behind it. "Alexei?" he rumbled, taking a step forward to stand beneath the doorframe. Before Alexei could answer, Maxim's focus shifted downwards to his grandson's pocket. His eyes narrowed and his upper lip curled. "...Polcian."