u/Parzival_the_Hero

Stan had just set Mymy down. She had retained her total apathy, seeming no longer to react to anything. The crowd of students had been shaken off, at least for the moment, although their cries of hatred remained quite audible.
“Mymy,” Stan began, “pull yourself together!”
The young girl still did not move, her crystal gaze fixed eternally upon the same immaterial point. There was only one solution that presented itself in order to bring her out of her torpor.

Stan had slapped Mymy:
“But damn it, Stan! What the hell are you doing!”

“Ah! You’re reacting at last! What do we do now?”

“In any case, certainly not hit me! But where do you come from? Is this the modern world! Men striking women!”

“Well, I don’t think that in centuries past people were very considerate regarding that question,” the boy mocked.

Now Mymy was thinking. How could she get out of this mess? And what had happened, anyway? Mymy playing Torquemada, the students throwing themselves into a witch hunt. One would have thought they were in a film, not in an ordinary provincial school in the Netherlands!
But the noises were drawing closer now, and furious blows were pounding upon the door of the room.

“Mymy, I’m really starting to freak out now! What do we do?” Stan asked.

The girl then rose, firmly grasping her plastic rifle in her hands:
“You know, Stan, as a Dutch patriot, I hate Napoleon. But I shall borrow a phrase from his men: ‘The Guard dies, but does not surrender!’”

“And can the Guard flee?”

“Charge!”

And then the young girl violently opened the door, surprising even the attackers, and opened “fire”, spraying them with pepper balls (she had understood that the pepper balls were better than those merely made of foam). The shots flew, filling the air with burning pepper, knocking Prudente’s emissaries to the ground, some falling because of the pepper in their eyes, others because of it polluting the air in their noses.

“Die, minions of Satan! Die, eaters of tapas!”

And the balls continued to rain down mercilessly upon the crowd, while the young redhead’s feeling of omnipotence grew more and more intense.
But well. Everything has an end, and eventually the balls ran out.

“So, Mymy, is thy little musketeer performance finally over?”

It was Prudente, walking forward with full satisfaction, accompanied by Maya, Bert, Cato, and Ferry.

“Ah, there you are at last, Prudente! I’ve been looking forward to making you sneeze again, Spanish devil!” Mymy cried.

“Come now, Mymy, I know well enough that the balls of thy rifle are spent. I watched thy merry little battle from the other end of the corridor. Thy courage is akin to that of Joan of Arc or Saint Genevieve, thou knowest? Yet it is a pity thou dost not share their intelligence. Thou didst leap into battle without even having an escape route, merely for love of the glorious image of thyself as some great soldier which thou hadst already fashioned in thine own mind. In the end, thou art not so good a politician as I had thought.”

“Maybe I don’t have any bullets left, but at least I have my rifle!”

And then she violently threw the rifle at Prudente’s face. Ferry then stepped in front of him, and the weapon bounced off his enormous belly. He then seized the object and, by the strength of his enormous hands, broke it in two, breaking the poor girl at the same time: she regarded this rifle as though it were an extension of her very being.

“You might have kept the rifle with you to strike one of us,” Ferry mocked.

“Meh, we would have beaten her anyway, even in that case,” Maya added.

“Then you, shut up, you filthy Belgian girl!” Mymy snarled.

“It is rather thou who ought to hearken unto us, Mymy,” Prudente then said. “I shall do thee the singular honour of explaining who I truly am.”
“It was about time!” the girl breathed.

“Behold,” he began, pointing towards Ferry with his hand, “this man is my father…”

“One cannot choose one’s parents!” Stan mocked.

“Once I was but a simple young lad, as ordinary as any other, having this gentleman as my father, concierge of Jan Van Speijk High School many years ago. In those days, there was talk of a classroom haunted by the ghost of an ancient Spanish king. The room was scarcely used, and thus my father resolved to make of it his haven of peace, going thither regularly to rest from the troubles of his life as a concierge.”

“It’s true that he must have quite a lot of troubles, judging by the shape of his face,” Mymy said, laughing.

“My father was a sorrowful man, finding that the world in which we lived did not suit him. And then a higher being, the one dwelling within the room, heard him.”

“The ghost of Philip II? What is the ghost of a Spanish sovereign doing in the Netherlands!”

“To describe the workings of a spirit is a difficult thing for a mortal such as thyself. But let us say that it was exceedingly sorrowful to have lost the Netherlands, the direct inheritance of his father Charles V. It then heard my father’s voice and offered him a bargain: that Ferry should aid him in creating a better world, and in exchange, that he should give him his son.”

“Meaning you.”

“Precisely! The spirit of Philip II then entered into me! Yet, weakened by the centuries, it could not wholly possess me. Thus, although physically my appearance is influenced by him, as are a portion of my behaviour and my habits, forty per cent of my person remained. Thereafter my father left the school under the pretext of the ghost, but in truth we awaited the seed within me to grow. And now I shall make this school a monarchy in which my followers and I shall reign! I have waited all this time to perfect my magic of mental influence, and now, Mymy, now: this school is mine!”

“Ah, so you’re not aiming for the whole Netherlands? I’m disappointed,” Mymy said with a little pout.

“That matter is yet complicated, and besides, I would gladly have said that I should leave the Netherlands unto thee, but that is somewhat difficult, since thou shalt soon depart from this place.”

“You mean you’re going to let me go home?”

“Nay. I mean that ere long Stan and thou shalt return unto Our Creator.”

And then Prudente’s army, Ferry at the front, advanced towards Mymy, casting upon her a burning gaze of malice.

(To be continued)

1519.L’Empereur Maximilien Ier de Habsbourg, « le dernier chevalier », s’éteint dans son château de Wels, en Autriche.Commence alors dans cette Europe du début du XVIème siècle une course effrénée pour l’obtention de la couronne du Saint-Empire.Deux acteurs principaux: François Ier, roi de France, et Charles de Habsbourg, petit-fils de Maximilien, roi d’Espagne, duc de Bourgogne et maintenant Archiduc d’Autriche.Si dans notre réalité, comme tous le savent, Charles devient empereur, et sera connu sous le nom de Charles Quint, les choses prendront un tour bien différent dans cette chronologie-ci.

Comme dans notre réalité, le Roi de France dépense énormément d’argent pour tenter de s’attirer les faveurs des 7 princes-électeurs, de qui dépendent les élections.On trouve: Albert de Brandebourg, archevêque de Mayence, Hermann V de Wied, archevêque de Cologne, Richard von Greiffenklau, archevêque de Trèves, Louis II, roi de Bohême, Louis V, comte du Palatinat, Frédéric III, Électeur de Saxe et Joachim Nestor, margrave de Brandebourg.Le scepticisme quand à la possibilité d’élire le Français règne parmi eux, surtout que Charles semble être un choix bien plus logique, de par son appartenance à cette Maison de Habsbourg qui tient le trône impérial depuis au moins 1438.Qui plus est, Charles a le soutien de la très riche famille Fugger, ce qui lui permet de facilement obtenir des financements.L’attaquer du côté germanique est pour l’instant une affaire perdue d’avance.François a alors une idée: Charles est roi d’Espagne depuis 1516 mais y est vu comme un étranger, en plus d’être détesté par plusieurs grandes familles.Des ambassadeurs français secrets arrivent alors dans toute la Castille et l’Aragon, persiflant dans les oreilles des Cortes pour les pousser à la rébellion.Le but?Obliger Charles à se concentrer sur son royaume d’Espagne, et fomenter une rébellion nobiliaire suffisamment forte pour que les Princes soient obligés de reconnaître son incompétence.

Mais François ne se concentre pas exclusivement sur la question espagnole.Si comme dans notre réalité, il possède le soutien de l’Archevêque Richard de Trèves, et l’Archevêque Hermann de Cologne semble lui être légèrement favorable, il lui reste à se mettre dans la poche quelques autres Princes-Électeurs.Dans cette réalité, il s’endette énormément auprès de financiers italiens, venus de Gênes ou encore de Venise, et augmente les impôts sur la paysannerie, déclenchant l’ire des communautés agricoles, qui enchaînent jacqueries et révoltes fiscales.Il approche alors l’Électeur de Saxe, Frédéric III, dit « le Sage ».En effet, celui-ci était pressenti par le pape à avoir la Couronne, afin de faire barrage aux terribles géants que sont François et Charles.François décide de l’approcher, enchaînant cadeaux sur cadeaux, notamment toute sorte de reliques plus au moins fausses, le roi connaissant à quel point l’Électeur était friand de ce genre d’objets.Il lui fait également une proposition plutôt alléchante que nous allons résumer ainsi: « En Espagne, afin d’endiguer la rébellion des barons, Charles entreprend une forte répression des prérogatives de la noblesse.S’il venait à être empereur, il finirait par appliquer le même schéma en Allemagne, et notamment, dans l’influente Saxe.Si vous acceptez de voter pour moi, je garantirai l’autonomie de la Saxe.Tentez aussi d’amener à moi le soutien des Fugger ».

Après une très longue hésitation, le Prince-Électeur finit par se ranger du côté du Français, tandis qu’en Espagne les Cortes font désormais ouvertement la guerre à « cet étranger de Charles, plus Flamand qu’Espagnol ».Jakob Fugger, quand à lui, s’il reste du côté de Charles, n’est pas insensible à la coalition formée par Trèves, Cologne et la riche Saxe, et, après bien des négociations, sentant le vent tourner, décide de ne plus soutenir financièrement l’Archiduc d’Autriche, qui, furieux, et déjà endetté auprès du banquier, refuse désormais de lui payer ce qu’il lui doit.Le financement de Fugger bascule alors, et celui-ci soutient désormais activement François Ier.Albert se place à présent aussi du côté français. « Dieu a tranché », disent certains, « Et Fugger aussi! », rajoutent d’autres: François, roi de France, est fait devant les Princes Allemands Roi des Romains, et un peu plus tard, avec l’assentiment du pape Léon X, Empereur du Saint-Empire Romain Germanique.

L’élection d’un Français au trône impérial mécontente cependant bien des princes germaniques, ce dont Charles tente de profiter, bien qu’y échouant lamentablement, tant la situation en Espagne s’enlise.Se rendant compte que le rêve impérial ne lui est plus possible, il signe une paix en 1521 avec François, en échange de troupes germaniques pour l’aider à remettre de l’ordre sur la péninsule ibérique: l’Espagne est à présent dépendante militairement de François.Mais Charles n’est pas la seule épine qui restait dans la botte du nouvel empereur, un jeune moine, Martin Luther, publie à Augsbourg ses 95 thèses contre les indulgences et remet en question les dogmes de l’Église Romaine ainsi que l’autorité du pape.Si, au début, François hésite quelques peu à réprimer violemment ce phénomène se prétendant « Réforme » de l’Église, il ne souhaite pas créer en tuant le moine un chaos comparable à celui qui avait eu lieu après la crémation de Jan Hussein en Bohême au début du XVeme siècle, surtout que les Princes risqueraient d’utiliser la chose comme preuve que François serait un envahisseur français ennemi des composants de la société germanique.Avec l’aide de Frédéric le Sage, qui dans notre réalité fut le protecteur de Luther, il tente le dialogue avec ceux que l’on appelle « les protestants » et promulgue un édit dit « de tolérance », édit qui le met à présent en froid avec Sa Sainteté le Pape Léon X.Il en profite aussi pour tenter une centralisation impériale dans les terres occidentales de l’Empire, tout en se gardant bien de créer une fusion des couronnes françaises et romaines.Dans cette réalité, pas de nouvelles guerres d’Italie, François préférant s’occuper de ses terres françaises et germaniques.En 1547, comme dans notre monde, François Ier s’éteint.Avec cette interruption majeure dans le règne continu des Habsbourg sur l’Europe Centrale, le système impérial germanique redevient véritablement électif, les Habsbourg n’étant plus vu comme des candidats suffisamment compétents.

Dans cette réalité, la Maison de Habsbourg ne parviendra que très difficilement à se sortir de sa décadence, et donc, pas de rivalité franco-autrichienne, ou au moins, celle-ci n’arrivera qu’extrêmement tard.Le protestantisme luthérien puis réformé connaîtra un certain essor sous le règne de François, mais après sa mort, la « nouvelle religion » connaîtra une alternance de répression et de tolérance.

N’hésitez pas à me donner des corrections si vous trouvez un élément trop fantaisiste ou irréaliste!Merci beaucoup!

Stan and Mymy had met up while the festival was in full swing. They still hadn't heard from Kiki, and the camera wasn't showing any signal. The whole crowd had gathered around an improvised stage where some girls were dancing flamenco. Prudente was downstairs with Bert, Cato, and other supporters, trying to get her attention by showing off their extensive knowledge of Spain (knowledge limited to Yamine Lamal, the Inquisition—they had the same understanding of it as a 19th-century French writer—food, and bullfighting). Mymy, meanwhile, was in a state of intense stress:

"Good God, Stan! What is that little idiot doing?! Right after these morons' dance, Prudente is going to give a speech! That's when we were supposed to make our move!"

“Calm down, Mymy, maybe she had a setback?” Stan tried to calm her.

“I’m sure that instead of investigating, she just grabbed all the coins she could find! And here I was, picturing myself as the Trijn van Leemput of the 21st century, the great Dutch resistance against Spanish tyranny! But now! Because of this petty pirate, I’m going to ruin my operation!”

“I admit, it’s getting downright worrying now…”

“Ah, you see! But I’m thinking, couldn’t I just grab my rifle and shoot this decadent mob? Let the holy war begin!”

She reached for her plastic musket, but Stan stopped her:

“Mymy, Mrs. Persijn already told you: this isn’t America! School shootings don’t happen in Holland!”

"There's a first time for everything!"

"Calm down! Oh dear," grumbled the boy, used to the girl's eccentricities.

And they continued to wait anxiously.

"Um... Tell me, Mymy, are you... are you free this weekend?"

"No! I think I'll skin that damn Kiki alive!" the girl muttered obsessively.

"Oh, okay, I would have liked to invite you for a bite to eat," said Stan, looking down.

Then she received a notification on her phone.

"Stan! Thank God! Kiki texted me that she broke the camera but managed to take a video!"

"The way the message is written doesn't really match her way of speaking," the boy remarked, reading the message.

“She’s just a poor, illiterate pirate, like all the others of her kind! Just do it and post the video!”

He wanted to check first if the video would have the desired effect, but Mymy was in such a hurry that she told him to post it as soon as she’d finished her scene. Indeed, Prudente, after the girls’ dance, had gone on stage to give a short speech:

“My friends! I am very happy to stand here before you today, on this first Spanish cultural day at the Jan Van Speijk High School! The deep ties that exist between Spain and the Netherlands have existed for centuries! Indeed…”

“Indeed, the death knell of your downfall has sounded!” Mymy shouted, going up on stage.

“Come on, Mymy,” Prudente said, feigning bewilderment, “what dost thou doing? Couldst thou please descend from the stage?”

"Get cancer, Prudente!" shouted the redhead. "Students of Jan Van Speijk High School! Go to the school's account! There's a video posted as a Story, revealing the whole truth about your so-called 'perfect student representative'!"

The students hesitated to open their phones, so unbearable had Mymy become, and besides, how dare she openly curse sweet Prudente like that?

"Listen, my friends," Prudente began, "do as she says, see the truth for yourselves," he said, sounding saddened.

"Ah, you scoundrel! You finally recognize your villain!" Mymy gloated.

And he whispered to her:

"As I told thee, this shall be thy last day of revelry."

And the students opened the story. Horror! Mymy was insulting Prudente, calling Maya autistic, and her xenophobic tongue was spewing all the horrors of the world onto Spain. Boos erupted from the audience. Mymy, astonished, opened the story herself: it was the argument she'd had with Maya the other day. How was that possible?

My friends! Listen to me now! Mymy is merely a symptom of a mindset within you! Look at her barbarity! It's all because she lacks boundaries! And look at poor Maya, being subjected to a torrent of insults, a girl you've never even noticed, bullied by her sister, yet possessing an innocence worthy of angels! Maya! Come up here with me!

And then Maya made her way through the crowd to the stage. And her clothes… she was dressed like some kind of monk, a Dominican! Mymy felt like she was in a nightmare. Prudente touched Maya on the shoulder (which she seemed to like):

“My friends! Today, you saw it, you saw what it’s like to have no structure, what the result is: cruelty. A poor young girl like Maya has been tormented for years by her sister. My friends! It’s time for that to change! Today I take full command of the school, with Maya by my side! Maya, bring out the object of thy salvation!”

And she produced a Golden Fleece. It shone and glittered, seeming to have sprung from a majestic dream of kings and gilding. The crowd was mesmerized, as if the object were from another world.

"Dear brothers and sisters! I, Maya! Today I speak before you! We are the first generation of a new age for the Netherlands! And this age must be built around one being: Prudente! In him alone reside beatitude, uprightness, and virtue! See! I, who was but dust, he gave me life! Today I am reborn as the pontiff of a new era, with him as my sovereign master! My children! May all recognize his blessed face, and death to those who would spit upon it! Death to Mymy!"

She spoke with a blazing gaze, like a priest in the pulpit, moving about, waving a cross she possessed, seemingly spreading some kind of hypnotic poison through the crowd. The students began to rise. Mymy was paralyzed.

"Mymy, prepare to face your damnation!" Maya sneered, seeming close to a kind of mystical ecstasy.

Mymy was apathetic as an angry mob moved toward her. But then Stan came toward her, seizing the girl's rifle, firing foam bullet after foam bullet into the crowd, before grabbing her, hoisting her onto his shoulders, and running, while a crowd screaming Prudente's name as their creed chased after them: what on earth was happening in this school!

(To be continued)

Kiki reached the bottom of the stairs, which led to a small wooden door. She tried to pick the lock, but it was impossible. Deciding to summon all the strength of her small teenage body, she delivered the most terrible kick the entire pirate world had ever known. The blow had its effect; the door burst open with a terrible crash, allowing Kiki to enter, which she did immediately, not without firmly gripping her sword in one hand and one of her pistols in the other. She entered and was stunned by what she saw. The room was dark and spacious, lit only by three candles placed near an open book on a table, itself facing a huge image of King Philip II. But something was truly terrifying: the king's eyes in the portrait were pierced, revealing a kind of unfathomable and terrible void inside, something almost seizing. Enchanting.

"By the Malemort! What is this now?" she murmured, preparing to switch on the mini-camera.

"It's your destiny," shouted a voice behind her.

Kiki didn't have time to react before the door behind her slammed shut and two gigantic hands grabbed her neck, lifting her off the ground. That voice, those hands, it was... It was Ferry!

"Y-You! What the hell are you doing... here!"

The giant's hands gripped her so tightly that she could barely speak. But that wasn't the only thing bothering her. Ever since their altercation the day she infiltrated the room housing Philip II's portrait, when he dragged her through the corridors by her hair to take her away to kill her, she had developed an almost traumatic fear of him, terrified at the mere sight of his shadow passing through the school.

"So, you little devil," the caretaker sneered, "you thought you could get away with it so easily after sticking a needle in my hand?"

-I…I…I…

“Seeing you scared makes me so happy, if you only knew! You’re sweating, you’re stuttering, you can feel my enormous hands on your neck, taking your life away, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing at all.”

And he began to laugh, laugh, laugh like a demon, his laughter engulfing Kiki, who felt her life slipping away, so powerful were the ogre’s fingers gripping her neck.

“Señor Ferry! Señor Ferry!” cried a man from the doorway.

It was the man with the morion. Ferry then loosened his grip slightly.

“Señor Ferry, Su Majestad Prudente declaró claramente que debía mantenerse con vida!”

“Speak in Dutch, you damned donkey! You know perfectly well I’m not good enough at Spanish to understand what you’re saying.”

“Our Master clearly said to keep the señora alive,” the man said in his broken Dutch.

Ferry then dropped the girl, who collapsed to the ground, more dead than alive.

“All right, Sancho,” he said to the man, “go upstairs and get me a rope,” the concierge ordered.

The man went up immediately, while Ferry cursed aloud at having to spare this child for whom he harbored a deep and unwavering hatred.

“Well, my little pirate, if I can’t kill you, couldn’t I at least give you a good thrashing? Just for a bit of fun?”

That's when he approached her, a huge smile spreading across his hideous face, accompanied by a malicious laugh. That's when Kiki's survival instinct was suddenly activated. She rose with terrifying speed, surprising even Ferry, and grabbed one of her pistols, aiming it at Ferry's eyes, before firing a devastating pepper shot directly into the giant's gaze. He collapsed to his knees, the pepper having entered his eyes.

"My name is Nobody," the teenager taunted her.

She started running towards the exit, but just then Sancho arrived, the man with the morion hat, a long rope in his hands. Kiki charged furiously at him, but he grabbed her with both arms and threw her aside. Kiki then fired two good shots at him, but he dodged them and threw his rope like a lasso, before pulling her towards him and slapping her violently, so that she collapsed to the ground. He then grabbed her and tied her to a chair that was nearby. Ferry felt like getting revenge for the pepper in his eyes, but Sancho prevented him from harming Kiki, saying that this place was a "place of reflection." Ferry started grumbling and decided to leave, explaining that he had to go to school because of his obligations, but not before giving Kiki a most terrifying smile. As for the man with the morion hat... He approached Kiki, grabbed the camera she was holding, threw it to the ground, and crushed it with his foot. He was about to leave, but Kiki, still curious and unsure how to escape her predicament, decided to question him:

"What is this room for, and what is your and Prudente's purpose? And what will you do with me?"

"My Dutch is very poor, Señora. I can only tell you that we will keep you hostage to blackmail Mymy."

"What if the police come to my rescue?" Kiki asked, trying to challenge him.

"We have ways of preventing them from interfering with us; we are not mere humans, Señora."

"How so?" she asked, looking perplexed.

-I'll explain it to you, Señora, I'll explain it to you…

(To be continued).

(This chapter takes place at the same time as chapter 17.)

Kiki felt slightly stressed. Despite her piracy, she had never broken into a house, so she began this new adventure with apprehension, trying to reassure herself that nothing worse could happen to her than what happened to William Kidd after he was captured. She had brought a wooden sword and two flintlock pistols (which were actually plastic) but loaded with pepper spray, as well as a bag to hold anything she might "borrow," let's say, from inside. She had been waiting outside the house for 20 minutes now. It was time. Walking towards the gate of the property, she knocked loudly before running off to the side. A man opened the door; it was the man with the morion that she and Mymy had seen the first time they had passed through here. He was short, with a wrinkled forehead, wearing a white t-shirt with a red cross on it. Kiki knew this symbol; it was the cross of The Order of Santiago, a particularly important Spanish order of chivalry. He was also wearing shorts that revealed his ugly, short, hairy legs; the man was, in fact, Kiki's height.

" ¿Quién está aquí?"the man asked.

Seeing that no one was there, he went inside, but Kiki immediately knocked on the door again (admittedly, that was the plan, but she was getting a kick out of it), making the man come out again.

"Who is it?" he shouted in broken Dutch.

Still no one was there, so he went back inside, only to come out again because of Kiki's new noises. He was so angry that he started walking a little further to look for the possible culprit, leaving the door ajar. Kiki slipped in unnoticed. The house had a dignified appearance; it was clear Prudente was a young man who wanted for nothing, but it also exuded something sinister. "Bah! It's no worse than the Flying Dutchman!" But the man with the morion hat was already coming back inside, swearing every bad word the Spanish language could offer. Kiki ran quickly to a tree, where she hid, but her foot crushed a twig. The man heard her and came toward the tree, suspecting something was behind it, and Kiki saw it: the adult was holding a flintlock pistol, a real one. "I have two of them! But I don't really see how pepper would stand up to real bullets!" She thought for a moment but realized her pepper might help. She took a bullet from her magazine and removed the pepper, keeping it in her hand, and headed towards the front of the tree, just as the Spaniard reached the spot where she had been. Without being seen, she threw away all the pepper in her hand. Disoriented, the man with the morion helmet began to sneeze, while she silently ran towards the house, whose front window, thankfully, was open, allowing her to rush inside. She was in Prudente's living room. There was a magnificent velvet armchair, a very old-looking globe, and everywhere old bound books on dusty shelves, as well as paintings depicting solemn and austere figures: knights, nuns, bishops, soldiers, barons—all were represented. The common thread among most of these figures was that they had a cross sewn onto their cloak. of Santiago, or around his neck, the collar of the Order of the Golden Fleece. There were also highly detailed crucifixes scattered about, as well as gory portraits of the Virgin Mary, but nothing of great interest to the camera. She began to open a few books at random in the library; most were written in an old Spanish that she didn't understand well, although it seemed to her that they were mainly religious books (she had notably found Ignatius of Loyola) or military books. "The drawing room isn't relevant, but that devil Prudente surely has a room; surely I'll be able to find something there." So she started to go upstairs, finding it strange that the man with the morion hadn't returned. "What a wimp! A little pepper can't put a man in that state, for goodness' sake!" But she remained happy; confronting Spaniards was an old pirate tradition, dating back to Sir Francis Drake!

She was now upstairs, just as austere and unwelcoming as downstairs. But she was pleased to find, while rummaging through the drawers, a few coins and a ring. Naturally, she threw them into her bag. There were two bedrooms upstairs. The first was locked, but not the second. She went in and realized it could only be Prudente's room, given the school supplies inside. The boy's room was quite spacious, although poorly lit, the window being covered by thick curtains. A large crucifix with a face sweating with pain seemed to watch over the room. The bed was rather small, and on the bedside table were a large book with a brown cover and an olive branch rosary. Further on, Prudente also had a small desk where he kept his notebooks, as well as a small shelf full of old books. Kiki rummaged through the drawers, stole anything shiny, and was amused by the fact that Prudente, Judging by the sheets of sheet music in his drawers, he seemed passionate about music. "If I had been friends with that old sea dog, I would have recommended sea shanties like 'Spanish Ladies' or 'The Ballad of Captain Kidd'." Feeling she was wasting her time, she wanted to turn back, but then she noticed a small piece of paper near the door, on the floor, written in red ink (a pirate must always read a piece of paper written in red ink, it's the rule!). She picked it up and saw this: "Prudente! Don't forget, the secret room is in the bathroom." It was bizarre, strange even, strange that Prudente needed a piece of paper stating the exact location of a supposedly secret room in her house, written in red ink; And above all, it was written in Dutch. Kiki was suspicious, but she had no other leads, so she might as well follow it. She headed towards the bathroom, which was locked. She managed to pick the lock with a hairpin (she didn't want to waste hers, so she'd stolen Mymy's). There it was, the bathroom was accessible. But she was disappointed; it was completely ordinary, utterly ordinary, except for one detail: a sort of large black stain on the right-hand wall. She went there and, although disgusted, touched the stain. Nothing happened, which disappointed her, and she wanted to leave, but then a slight noise was heard and the wall suddenly turned around, carrying her to the other side. A long, dark corridor of stairs lay before her, deep, terrible, and frightening. “Mymy, I swear if I manage to get out of here alive, I’ll strangle your little orange head in my hands!” She sank deeper and deeper into the darkness.

(To be continued)

Mymy was absolutely outraged by everything she saw. Balloons in the colors of the Spanish flag, girls—Dutch, no less—dancing flamenco in Andalusian dresses, boys trying to play bullfighters while screeching Spanish music blared throughout Prudente's little cultural party, which Mymy described as "decadent." Kiki would surely take between an hour and a half and two hours to get into Prudente's house, so Mymy waited, strolling past the stalls, criticizing everything that dared to cross her path and that even remotely resembled anything Iberian. She wished she had Stan with her to listen to her criticisms during her tour of the place, but he had preferred to stay with his friends while Kiki completed her mission. So Mymy was walking alone, lost in her thoughts (which consisted of the creation of a New World Order or even a vast war against Belgium), when she bumped into someone. She was Pushed slightly forward, her forehead aching:

"Can't you be careful, you poor autistic boy!" she cried.

"Disculpe, Mymy."

That voice, that mocking, sneering voice. It was Prudente. And the infamous young man wasn't alone. Walking with him were Cato and Bert, Mymy's former best friends. Cato was wearing a magnificent red dress that showed off her shoulders, and Bert…

"By the Holy Crown of the Netherlands, what are you wearing, Bert?" Mymy burst out laughing.

Bert was dressed in a… bull costume!

"I don't see what's so funny! Students have to wear traditional Spanish costumes!" the boy protested.

"So you think everyone in Spain walks around dressed as a bull? What a lovely compliment you're paying Prudente, my poor friend!" Mymy said, laughing even harder.

“I didn’t have a matador costume, so I had to play the bull!”

“Cato’s in red, do you feel obligated to charge at her?” the redhead said, laughing even harder.

Cato started laughing, but Bert’s murderous glare cut her off.

“Besides, Cato, have you taken to Spain now? Has your passion for the pharaohs faded?” Mymy asked, her mouth dripping with venom.

“I can love Ancient Egypt and still participate in a Spanish cultural event, Mymy!” the blonde replied.

“You know who you remind me of? Akhenaten. You’re a traitor, a sellout to the latest fad.”

For an Ancient Egypt fanatic like Cato, being compared to Akhenaten was worse than an insult:

"Mymy! I swear to God, if I catch you, I'll..."

"Peace, Cato," Prudente reassured her. "Mymy, thou art a most diverting maiden? Thou dost greatly fascinate me, and hast done so ever since my first coming unto this school. Indeed, when I arrived, I even hoped for an alliance with thee! But alas, thou wert far too hostile!"

"Of course! I'm not a traitor! And I have every right to hate you. Have you forgotten what you did to me during the elections?"

"I've already told thee, Mymy, efficiency above all else. Thou wert an obstacle, and obstacles are meant to be broken. I intend to break thee once again, dear obstacle."

“What have I done? I’ve lost all credibility in this school, and it’s all your fault, you scoundrel!” Mymy insulted him.

“Stop talking nonsense!” Bert snapped.

“Bull doesn’t speak, Bert,” Prudente interrupted. “Serious people are in the middle of a discussion. Mymy, I’m going to give thee an ultimatum: abandon this crazy crusade thou hast launched against me. Give it up, and I’ll clear thy name in everyone’s eyes; all of thy faults will be forgotten.”

“You talk to me like a CIA agent trying to bring a German scientist to the United States after World War II.”

“The comparison to a Hitlerian scientist suits you quite well, Mymy,” Cato laughed.

“As for me, I stand by the comparison to Akhenaten for you, Cato,” Mymy mocked.

“Wilt thou accept my offer, Mymy? See the hand I’m extending to thee and don’t spit on it. It’s the king’s grace.”

“I only recognize the King of the Netherlands, from the House of Orange-Nassau. So, sorry, my poor Prudente, but I say to your offer what I dream of saying to you every day: ‘Catch herpes!’”

This allusion to such a filthy disease had outraged Prudente, and, as Mymy had noticed, her constant smile had slightly faltered. Mymy wasn't the only one; Bert and Cato had also sensed that their "master's" air of constant control had changed. Prudente himself knew that everyone had noticed, and, while until then he had mainly seen Mymy as an obstacle in his path, without harboring any hatred for her, now he wanted to force that little hussy to eat the lenses that masked her true irises. He had offered her the chance to join him today out of Christian charity, so that God might record her behavior as honorable. But clearly, this young girl was a veritable devil, and a ruler's goal is to keep demons away from his kingdom.

“Mymy, Mymy, my poor Mymy! Don’t forget the story of Icarus. Thou dost strive overmuch to fly too close to the sun, but know that its rays spare no one. Not even the vivacious young Dutch girls… Well, Japanese girls, in thy case!”

Mymy had a feeling he was about to give her a piece of her mind.

“Now then, Mymy, enjoy the party. With what I’ve got in store for thee, know that this will soon be the last day of revelry thou shalt ever know,” he said with a terrifying laugh.

And he left, followed by his two attendants, leaving Mymy alone, paralyzed with fear: “Did he know? Did he know about Operation Sea Beggars and was he planning an offensive? Impossible! It’s impossible! Unless one of them had betrayed us… But who? Who?” Mymy didn’t know, but now Prudente, more than ever, held her in her power.

(To be continued)

Ever since Maya had received the collar of the Order of the Golden Fleece from Prudente, she felt different. She had never truly been a believer, but was beginning to take an interest in the sacred, a sacredness that seemed to be embodied for her in Prudente. She had changed her clothing to very long dresses, hating the sight of her flesh, and had largely stopped watching her…animated pleasures. She had also acquired a flag on which, like a blazing sun, a symbol of authority and power, stood out the Cross of Burgundy, symbol of the Spanish Empire, and flag of the Spanish Netherlands under Philip II. Now, she occupied herself with meditating for hours before images of Prudente, gazing at him fervently, like a pious young woman looking at the blessed face of her messiah. “Today, Your Majesty, today I will do your will.” The first part of Prudente's plan was about to unfold, three days before the Spanish cultural festival and Operation "Sea Beggars." She had swiped her sister's mini-camera to use it. As usual, her sister was about to come in, just like every day, to annoy her:

"So, Leopold," Mymy mocked, "you think you can invade the Netherlands? Know this, Maya, a poor little Belgian girl like you will never have a place here."

"Come now, dear sister, you know very well I'm not Belgian," Maya replied gently.

"Hmm, that's strange, Chip Head, you're not stuttering like you usually do! And what's with that dress? Since when have you been wearing that? And wait, by the beard of Wilhelm I! What is that horror I see hanging from your neck?"

“It’s a little gift from Prudente, our student representative by the grace of God,” Maya replied.

“So, you little Lalaing, you’re betraying the Motherland to join the Spanish rabble? I wouldn’t expect anything less from you! You’re lucky I didn’t bring my rifle, otherwise I would have had you shot.”

“Mymy, take a look at the flag on my wall,” Maya said mischievously.

Mymy turned her head toward the flag. Horror! That cross, that terrible red crenellated cross on a white background. The Burgundian cross.

“You little witch! How can you display in your room the very symbol of the Spanish invasion of our country!”

“Tell me, Mymy, what do you think of Prudente and me?”

And while Maya was asking her this, she immediately switched on the small camera to film the entire scene.

"Prudente Escorial is a dog, a Spanish invader, a nasty little animal whose only wish would be for him to catch AIDS or the plague. You, Maya, are just a miserable Belgian who thinks she's made a friend when, of course, he's just using you to get to me. What kind of person worth their salt would want to associate with an autistic person like you, tell me?"

And Maya began to cry. She cried loudly, very loudly. But her tears weren't genuine. In another time, her sister's words might have moved her, but today was the first day of her revenge. She was only crying for the camera. Mymy, meanwhile, was about to launch into more insults, but the sound of Coco coming home from rugby practice forced her to go back to her room: if Coco had seen her making Maya cry, she would have done to her what the Dutch in 1672 had done to Grand-Pensionnaire Johan de Witt: something no one would want to experience. And so Mymy slipped away, leaving Maya alone, wiping away her crocodile tears.

"Now, let's get to work!" the young girl said, casting a fervent glance at the image of Prudente watching her on her phone.

She took the video of Mymy's insults and saved it as a document on her computer. During the night, she would sneak into Mymy's room to return the camera, so that Mymy wouldn't suspect anything. So that Mymy wouldn't suspect that soon, crowned with light, walking on the clouds of Heaven, surrounded by angels and saints, Prudente would advance, her by her side, towards her kingdom. An eternal and perfect kingdom where she, Maya, the forgotten one, the black sheep, would finally be important, and above all: loved.

(To be continued)

Maya was sweating profusely. She was supposed to meet Prudente, her friend, in the meeting room, where he was talking with other important students from the school organization. She felt awkward waiting by the door, not daring to knock. That's when Ferry, the dreadful caretaker, happened to walk by. He waved to her, and she waved back, unable to hide her disgust for this man, who nevertheless had Prudente's complete trust.

"Um, excuse me, but what are you doing here?" asked a student coming out of the room.

Yellow overalls, a blue shirt with red stripes. It was Bert, one of Mymy's old friends, now under Prudente's thumb.

-Uh… Actually, I… Excuse me, but…

-You have no business being here! I'm sure Mymy sent you to spy on us, didn't she? Go away and tell that pest that…

-What passeth here, Bert?

It was Prudente.

-Mymy sent her damned sister to…

-Bert. This shall be the last time I see thee insulting Maya like that, dost thou hear me, said the Spaniard, his ever-present smile vanishing, Know that she's my friend, my best friend, and I asked her to come.

There must be a God above us for such a miracle to happen! Prudente considered Maya her best friend. After apologizing, Bert left, followed by the other students in the room. Prudente went back inside, followed by Maya.

"Pru... Prudente... You... You consider me your... best friend?" the girl whispered, almost in tears.

"Thou art the best, Maya. No one in this school has a purer soul and heart than thine. Truly, God bless the day wherein we first met. But tell me, wherefore wouldst thou speak to me?Something new?”

"Mymy, Kiki, and a certain... Uh, Stan, I think, are planning something big against you that they want to do on the day of the cultural day you're organizing!"

She explained Operation Sea Beggars to him in detail, how Kiki was going to break into his house with a camera, how Stan was going to send viruses to Bert's and other boys' phones so they could broadcast the video live. When she finished, he started walking towards the window, without saying a word, looking thoughtful. Seeing that the silence was dragging on, she ventured to ask him:

"What do you intend to do, Prudente?"

"Nothing," he said, turning to her with a radiant smile.

"Nothing? What do you mean, 'nothing'? You're going to let them humiliate you live in front of the whole school?"

"I'll be damned if I ever dared to do that!"

"But then how do you intend to stop them from doing harm?"

“I count myself most fortunate to have such a friend like thee, Maya. Thou shalt be the one to defeat them. They’ll carry out their plan. I’ll even make it easy for Kiki to get into my house. And her camera will film. But it won’t film what Mymy had hoped to see. I’ll explain…”

And he explained what she had to do. How clever he was! How sharp his mind was! She would never have had such an idea, and as she listened to him, she felt herself melting before this being who seemed to have stepped out of her dreams. Cautious, as he explained his plan, he saw how much she seemed to be at his mercy, as if her very soul were subject to him, and this trust, this love she seemed to have for him touched him deeply. She had to be part of what he would create.

“Maya, tell me, hast thou never found your thy empty?”

She lowered her eyes. Of course, she was empty. She was nothing.

“Listen to me, my sweet and good Maya! If thy life is empty, it’s because everything that gave it stability has been taken away. There’s no more order, no more beauty. Nothing great left to hold onto. My fight is to help you rediscover what it takes to have a life full of meaning, holy, good, and solid. And thee, Maya, I want thee to be a part of that. I even have a little gift for thee.”

A gift! For her! From a boy! Just then, Prudente took a necklace from her bag, from which hung a golden ram. The same as hers, the Order of the Golden Fleece!

“To thee, Maya Schoppenboer, I present the Collar of the Spanish branch of the Order of the Golden Fleece. Dost thou swear before God to be faithful unto me?”

“I swear by our friendship that I will be faithful to you! I will never betray you, Prudente! As… As I love you!”

“Now, today, thou art one of us.”

And he placed the necklace around her neck. From the moment it was fastened around her neck, she felt different, as if a greater strength, a greater confidence resided within her. And above all, she no longer saw Prudente in the same way. His features, already serious and inviting austerity, were imbued with an indescribable majesty, as if he were a being from another world. From another time.

“O my sovereign!” she cried, bowing low.

“Rise, Maya. Rise, O my sister in the Order, and walk, walk toward the new destiny of this place!”

(To be continued)

I have made this with the English Cover of Jubyphonic of « Failure Girl ».You can also see in this sub my « Mymy Dei » with the Music « Vox Dei » from Hazbin Hotel.

As soon as classes ended, Kiki and Mymy hopped on their bikes, far ahead of Coco and Maya, who were eager to get to Mymy's house to discuss their "Operation Sea Beggars." And just as they arrived, Mymy quickly changed, offered Kiki a small carton of juice, and got one for herself. Coco went upstairs (she had to write a song for her band), and Maya, taking advantage of her great discretion, hid near the stairs so she could overhear her sister's conversation without being seen:

"You know, Kiki, I really like the name of our operation, but having a good name isn't enough. Our plan has to be solid!"

-Just like Henry Morgan against the Spanish during the Capture of Panama in 1671, we're going to act cunningly. We're not both going to go to Prudente's house, Mymy. One of us will go there and get in, while the other stays at the cultural festival to keep her occupied.

-I'm proud of you, Kiki. I realize that the more time you spend with me, the more your brain seems to be reaching a more reasonable level.

-I was right to call you "Idi Mymy Dada" the other day, Arwgh, your pride knows no bounds!

-I admit I'm proud, but it's the pride of someone who knows the unwavering strength of the Dutch people. Know, however, that I'm going to add something to your plan.

“Boats? Yes, you’re right, there aren’t enough boats!” Kiki exclaimed excitedly.

“No, you silly girl! Prudente would have to see that her secret has been revealed, and the whole school would have to see it. So, I propose that when you sneak into his house…”

“Ugh! Why me, you snot-nosed swine?”

“You’re the one involved in piracy and that kind of nonsense. Don’t you know that as Stadtholder of Holland…”

“I didn’t know Wilhelm V had passed on his title!” Kiki said sarcastically.

“As Stadtholder of Holland, then, I supervise, I don’t interfere. I was saying: you’d be at his house, equipped with a camera. There, your camera will film Prudente’s secrets, and everything your camera films will be broadcast live on the school’s Instagram account.”

"Ugh! Your plan would be brilliant if we had all that damn equipment! But I know, neither you nor I own that kind of thing. Unless your sister Moya…"

"Maya," Mymy corrected.

"Yes, that's it, Miya, don't help us. You told me she was good with technology, I think?"

"I thought of that too, but I don't trust her enough, you see? You never know with Belgians. Especially when they're autistic! I already have someone."

Listening to all this, Maya almost felt like throwing a pillow at her sister again. But she had to calm down. Prudent, her friend would avenge her when she told him everything. And then someone rang the doorbell. Mymy hurried to open the door. It was a rather tall boy with gray hair, blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and a blasé air, dressed "like an Eskimo": it was Stan, Mymy's colleague at the school newspaper. Colleague was the overstatement; he was more like a lackey to the redhead:

“Hello Mymy,” the boy greeted.

“Kiki,” Mymy said, holding Stan’s arm as if pointing to a child, “look how many loyal agents the VOC has, ready to answer the call of the Heeren Zeventien!”

“I’m not a VOC agent, Mymy! That company doesn’t even exist anymore!” Stan snapped.

“I didn’t invite you to my house for you to spout nonsense. You should consider yourself lucky to even be entering your empress’s palace!”

“Arwgh, Mymy! Leave that poor devil alone while he explains how he plans to do it.”

Stan then pulled a strange little object from his pocket. It was a mini hidden camera to attach to clothing.

“When you put it on your clothes, Kiki, everything the camera sees will be broadcast live on the school's Instagram Story. I've set it up to be directly connected to the account. However, you can only turn it on if you come across something interesting. I advise against leaving it on the whole time; it would bore the students, especially since you could easily be on it for a whole hour.”

“That's a good idea, but I think Bert, being Prudente's henchman, is planning to do a live stream on the Instagram account himself to promote the event, isn't he?”

“I don't know what that little twerp is meddling in,” Mymy interjected. “I'm the director of the school newspaper, and Stan is my editor-in-chief, and it's our prerogative to use the school's Instagram account! But what will you do then, Stan?”

“I’m planning to send viruses to Bert, Rens, and Sjef’s phones; they’re the only others who have access to the account.”

“Arwgh! You don’t mess around!” exclaimed Kiki.

“I won’t stand for having my spot stolen from the School Newspaper. Because of my close relationship with Mymy, Prudente seems to want to get rid of me. So I’m ready to do anything.”

Stan’s gaze was as cold as the place he seemed to have come from. Mymy and Kiki then started dancing: Operation Sea Beggars was about to begin!

But they weren't the only ones celebrating. Maya, well hidden behind the stairs, had written everything down. She was so energized by her new friendship that her attention deficit hadn't bothered her. She had written it all down, and, already dreaming of the moment when she would pass it all on to Prudente, went back up to her room without making a sound. Soon the day would come, and with the day would come the triumph of her friendship over the domination of her adoptive sister.

(To be continued)