Red Dawn 2

The bomb had gone off while they were saluting a group of loyalist guards in a rural quartering. The King and his family were on their way to the border, fearing for their life, through a winding tortuous road in a forest. The blast if the bomb had almost hit the car, but the Royal Family had barely suffered any major injuries.
“Sire!” Yelled one of the guards “The reds! The reds are here!”
The King and his children get off the car. With a hand gesture, the lieutenant of the guards tells him to leave. “The border is five kilometers from here! Run!” The four start running desperately through the forest without daring to look back. Far behind them, the International appears like a violent roar from the depths of the forest, clashing with the brave guards who are firing their old rifles. A last stand of a dead world, a last stand for a fleeing King. One of the guards starts singing an old military song, inherited from the times of foreign wars and glory. His tone is melancholic, almost like he was mourning the past. Soon, the whole regiment joins him with an equally sad accent

“Nadie en el Tercio sabía, quien era aquel legionario, tan audaz y temerario, que a la Legión se alistó...”

The songs meet, the violent red roar hesitates before the melancholic guard, and then hell is e make the air vibrate. The music of death, the orchestras of armed men fight, but in the end, the Supreme Conductor decides. The song of the guards fades away, the Internationale roars triumphant and the last man of the loyalist chorus dies covered by dust and smoke, still singing with a melancholic, desperate accent. The curtain falls, the lights go off. Thus ends the rhapsody of the monarchy.

Then, the fury is unleashed. The furor of the Revolution chases the Royal Family through the forest. They have almost reached the desperate King, who is loading his gun to defend his children. The bullets caress his skin, the gunshots stroke his hair. First they demand him to surrender and be arrested, but soon they start to aim at his head and his heart. It’s a wild chase, a hunting day for the revolutionaries, an orgy of unchained furor, sadistically trying to end the fleeing oppressor. Finally, the sun falls, the twilight collaborates with the fallen in disgrace and under the care of night’s benign pallium, the Royal Family fades away in the shadows. When the new dawn arrives, the four trembling, desperate royals finally exit the forest and arrive at a border post with Thialrer. The sun rises over the mountains, the breeze gently moves the green grass, a thin morning fog cools the air, a bird tweets hidden in a solitary tree and nature and life simply go on. The symphony of the Universe continues, indifferent to men’s problems. Diego can’t help but hug his kids and, for the first time in his life, cry.

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Meanwhile, in a dark cell in the depths of a prison, two men are conversing. Two fallen gods, assisting to the twilight of their world and their existance. President Minister Luis de Santacreu and Metropolitan of Pentiscola Antonio de Solís. They are talking, serene, philosophical, but their faces betray some sort of inner compassion, some sort of pity, for their own souls.
“So, father, you say there’s an eternal life?”
“Yes, my son, and one day we will all resurrect in God’s Kingdom”
“What a beautiful idea father, eternity...”
“Yes, the Lord is our shepherd, we lack nothing. He makes us lay down in green pastures, he leads us beside quiet waters. Even when we walk through the darkest valleys, we should fear no evil, for He is with us”
“What a wonderful God of yours father...”
“Yes my son, isn’t eternity a sublime idea?”
The two men are interrupted by a guard who takes them out of the cell. The two men are punched and have their hands tied to their backs. Before they have their eyes covered by a rough piece of cloth, Santacreu says to the Metropolitan
“Well, father, I die loving my friends, in peace with men and adoring my God. I hope we can see each other again in that Paradise of yours.”
“I hope so too my son, may the Lord take care of us”
They are taken to the yard of the prison. It only takes one round of shots. The noise, the brief lights and then nothing. Nobody says a word and Santacreu dies with a serene and calm smile. The sun sets at the other side of the prison’s walls. Only two white butterflies will come to honor the dead. It is the twilight of the old good gods.