A short history. . . With names of people and places and things to be filled in when we know what they are.
(Mainland) was settled in 874 AV (after the visitation). The first settler was (Arnarson), who settled in (Brainerd). Many of the early settlers of (Mainland) were small lords and kings from (Oldland) who were fleeing the tyranny of (someone)who wanted to unify (oldland) under one king, namely himself.
Because of their flight from oppression the (newland) settlers did not form any central government for their new country. They instead relied on a group of equally powerful lords, the so-called godar to regulate their domains, and to regularly meet to solve major problems. These meetings of the godar were called (something). Among the Godar one would be chosen to lead. He would be in essence a king, although was not names as such until 1253. The"king" would rule in part or in whole until such time as he stepped down or the Godar removed him.
In the year 930 the settlers established their center parliament or (something). It was given the name (all something) which simply means the center parliament. The parliament still convenes today and is believed to be the world's oldest national assembly. Up until 1798 the (all something) convened at (someplace) One of the major decisions to be made there was made in the year 1000 when, after hearing both sides of the story, the (all something) voted to adopt (religious beliefs) as the (Mainland) religion.
Due to poor harvests, epidemics, the oppression of the (oldland) government, and volcanic eruptions, the population of Iceland in the year 1800 was only 38000, half of what it was in the year 1100.
In the 18th century a long battle for independence was fought with the (oldland) government, (Mainland)'s most prominent champion was (Norman Edward), a national hero, who was both a statesman and a scholar.
(mainland) is a modern state, in the spirit of its (oldland) neighbors and cousins. Everybody reaps the benifits of free healing, free education (from apprenticeship to master's level), and high standards of living, while paying the price of a near 50% income tax. Illiteracy, poverty, prostitution and violent crime are virtually unknown in modern (mainland), and the nation is one of the wealthiest in the world.
The dark room filled with acrid smokes. The windows that should have been open to allow a breeze to clear away the toxic air remained closed. Noone seemed to notice. They were all too busy pouring strange substances from one container to another, too busy creating that smoking mess. Somewhere in the crowd of students hustling to complete their final practical exam, one student began to feel ill. Her thoughts randomly went from the specifics of her project to idioms of the practical not being all that practical. As fumes rose from the vile of greenish liquid she was heating over a flame, her forearm swept across her forehead moving her massive dark curls out of her eyes. She glanced up to see if her vile of fluid was behaving the same as the other students viles. It wasn't particularily useful to watch the other projects as they had each been given a different fluid and different instructions on how to change what they started with into their final grade. Some students were heating viles, others mixing in things Penelope didn't recognize, and some were cooling large glass bowls of substances resembling a bright orange snot. Seeing the gooey substance she thought might have come out of something's nostrils made her appreciate the emerald shade and water like constancy of what she was working with. The appreciation, however, was quickly replaced with fatigue and nausea. The small voice in her head that sometimes encouraged or admonished her was telling her, "you can't be sick now, you are in a very important test that will affect the rest of your life. It is time to buckle down and ignore the rising bile at the back of your throat."
Penelope wanted to argue back with the voice, but she knew that it was right. (note to self: feel I should explain about the school here, need to do more creative research) Still her legs began to feel weak beneath her. She began to beg at the voice. "just let me sit down, a small break and I'll feel better".
" You may not have enough time to finish the test if you stop now" the half maternal half calculated voice stated
"Just a short break and I'll feel better and I'll get it done faster, I'll be more effective." Penelope tried to reassure and convince herself.
"yeah, I suppose," the voice conceded, "but you'd better ask the instructor" Penelope placed her green liquid on the table, fumes still rising ominously into the air.
Outside the classroom a minute later Penelope slumped onto her haunches placing her head into her hands. "Fresh air," she thought, " that's all I need, a little fresh air" After a few moments of breathing deeply and coaxing nausea away with her fists grinding deeply into her temples she straightened herself back up, sorted out her clothes and with a breath of determination and defiance marched back in to finish her test.
"Penelope." the strong male voice was timid and fearful in a relieved way.
Penelope couldn't open her eyes, couldn't even force the muscles in her fingers to twitch, but she knew he was there, knew he was speaking to her and that in the single word he spoke was volumes he couldn't bare to utter. In her minds eye she could see him standing to her left, gently holding her limp fingers in his left hand and fluffing his unruly white wizards hair with his right. As long as Penelope could remember, her father had sported the untamable white hair. Even as the king he had made it a distinguishable quality. He had a mild easy going temper, a childlike curiosity and friendliness that had made his subjects not only serve willingly but eagerly. This tall, companionable, and disquisitive man had started out as a minor magician. He had self taught himself into the wizard that eventually ranked as king. He was progressive in his thinking and although he cared deeply for the kingdom, he cared ever so much more about the people that made up the kingdom. He had given up his kingship to be here. There were other reasons too, but it made Penelope feel special to think that her father had given a kingdom, to what he hoped would be better hands, simply to be at her side.
Less than an hour ago was a large part of the reason he had been here. He was always ready in advance although he never knew anything about the events that were coming. Somehow everything just worked out. Sometimes years worth of events were simply to prepare him for something no one could have predicted. And in her real recent past was the event this time. Penelope thought back to what seemed only moments ago. Something in her already fragile state went horribly wrong. Where had she been? Her thoughts had been dwelling on the struggle to survive. She wasn't sure what she was doing to live, but she knew each moment was a struggle and when she had said to herself "I wonder if I'd die if I stopped trying so hard" something happened . . . There was an infinity within a millisecond, five minutes of nothingness in which something that would forever change her had occurred. When she had come round from the five minutes, in answer to her previous question, she thought, "I guess I would". There were healers surrounding her and she could hear the one in control giving orders in an almost callous way. She heard them discover the return of stability and the relief in the voices, when the leading healer threw something on her chest and stated in his cold uncaring voice, "clean her up before you let her family see her!" Only in retrospect would she sympathize for this man, only later would it occur to her that the callousness was a way to cover up for the pain when he lost someone. Years of watching helplessly as some lives were saved and others lost probably never made the pain of a loss easier but pretending not to care may have.
"Penelope," a familiar female voice brought Penelope back to the presence of people by her side, "you gave us a right scare. Don't do it again!"
"yeah." agreed several others. How many were there? Penelope didn't know, but it hadn't bothered her. If she had, in the short space of time since all this began, learned anything it was that family was what it's all about. She reveled in their presence and longed to reassure them that everything would be ok. She was at peace with herself.
That peace would not last. Ironic she'd think later, that in the times that should have been most trying she was calm, collected and at peace, only later when things had settled into a routine of peace and calm would she be leveled with emotional mistchief all started from the event she had just remembered and would remember a thousand times a day for years to come.
"It's alright," she told them in her mind, It was a useless gesture to speak mentally, but the idea that she was trying to communicate, that maybe they would simply sense that everything was alright, made it easier to hear the trepidation in their voices. The events of the past week had definitely been harder on them than it had been on her. In the past week her life had turned completely upside down and mostly inside out. She found she couldn't remember several days worth of events.
