The Spark of the Revolution

The man who refused paradise

The Most Honorable Quiril Kalayo Polan (a.k.a. Arctic Flame)

I am the wind that doth blow from the north!
Let truth be my shield and justice my sword!
I am the hope for those that are wronged!
I am the vengeance that comes from beyond!

– The Spark of the Arctic Flame

The Condemnation

The Spark of the Arctic Flame has become near-legend in the isles of Ironfoot. It was he, Nicholas Bramwer, and Julia Mnemnos who are considered the three fathers of the Republic of Mitrand. It was he that had been so cruelly sentenced to exile in a cold, icy atoll with little food, little wood, and little shelter from the cold, biting wind. That king, Benjamin of the Eastern Alliance (a now-defunct alliance between the Northern Atoll Kingdom and the former Empire of Mitrand) sent him to die on the atoll in 395 B.U, with little food and a crossbow loaded with one bolt, meant for his head.
He knew he was innocent. He knew he hadn't incited that revolt. But he also knew what the king would do if he denied it: a torturous death, a show trial, a psychotic executioner. So he had pleaded guilty. He had pleaded guilty, and was really close to even testifying against his friends if it meant his freedom. He knew he needed to give what the king wanted: a showy trial, proving that the empire was dominant. But, after long thought often interrupted with torture, he didn't give. He said he was guilty, and no one else. The king, angered, didn't torturously execute him, but sentenced him to political exile. And in that day, political exile was sometimes worse than death.

The Exile at Pakani Island

If I will meet Death, I shall do it on my own terms.

– The Spark of the Arctic Flame

When the Spark was offered the chance to die aboard the ship before being cast to the island wasteland, he was much too proud to take the bolt to the head. He took the crossbow, boarded a lifeboat, and was cast out to the island, while the ship steadfastly watched, sailors placing bets on whether he would drown in the Shifting Shoals, or whether he'd make it to land and starve there. As they watched, the Spark's eyes were closed, praying to Tukod, Builder of Worlds as he had probably played too many role-playing games. As a joke on his fate, a sailor rolled an icosahedron. He got a solid twenty. He rolled again. A twenty. And again. The die stopped on six, then spontaneously flipped over to twenty.

D20 by Wohlerbear

The sailors had had enough. They didn't want to incur the wrath of Tukod, either. They sailed their ship as fast as they could back towards the mainland, tossing the die overboard. The die floated away, with the twenty still on top. In the meantime, the Arctic Spark had managed to make a landing on the island. As he opened his eyes, he praised Tukod for letting him make it that far. He followed the coastline, finding desolate landscapes as far as eye could see. He camped for the night, then followed the coastline farther the next day.
Suddenly, his eyes caught something he first dismissed as a hallucination. A patch of green forest and farmland, in the middle of the desolate wintry landscape. It was the Free City of Desolation, hidden from prying eyes with magic. He instantly broke into a run, crossing into the forest as quickly as his legs could take him. As he entered, the tugging on his heartstrings and the gnawing at his soul quickly faded. He was safe.
As he camped his second night, seeing plentiful berries and other food, he ate hearty and waited for the next morning. He could maybe even live his life in this place! A couple hesitant footsteps jolted him to his guard, and he drew his crossbow and hollered out a loud "who's there?" A torch lit, and an unarmed man with a white flag stepped out of the clearing. Wait... that looks familiar... isn't that the political dissident? The exile laughed. "I'm Amola, Knight-Commander of the Peasantry. Already cheated death once, maybe I'll be lucky enough to do it again." The peasant commander had been exiled to die in the island, had he found somewhere to survive?
That night, Amola led the Spark back to a large village, of less than one thousand, thought the Spark. Apparently, they had been isolated from the mainland long ago by the treacherous seas and could not go back. The few survivors of exile had found a home there, along with the old population. It was an oasis of plentiful resources in a wintry wasteland. The Spark lived there for two years, as content as could be at the time.
He drank with fellow exiles, was cared for by villagers, and was sheltered by locals while he found a job. He wanted to settle down, to date a fellow girl of marriageable age, to live forever in this idyllic utopia. He wanted to eat the island fruit, to get his own land of his own hard work, and to forget about the political purges in his home country. He wanted to forget about the past, to live his life in the island paradise. And he did, for two and a half years. But eventually, he broke where his fellow exiles didn't: his loyalty was stronger than his own self-interest.

The Return

I am not happy so long as one of my countrymen face the same unfair exile I was subject to.

– The Spark of the Arctic Flame

Crossbow by Hartmann Linge

But the Spark was not content. The Spark still had his imperial crossbow, a reminder of the awful rule of King Benjamin. His people were still under oppression! His friends were still getting exiled! So even as he enjoyed an idyllic life in the Free City, his thoughts were on his suffering people. Even as his friends celebrated the birth of his future son-in-law, he was building a ship to sail back to Mitrand. Even as his cohort tried to comfort his broken spirit, he planned and plotted, buying necessary supplies. And when he set out, again, away from this paradise towards Mitrand, no one dared stop him.
As he sailed, he kept his eye on his telescope. He was looking for an Emerald Eye, a merchant ship he had served on as first mate before he had gotten involved in any of the political business. According to his past logs, today it was supposed to be running a route between New Bensloh and Liton Tais, returning to port in New Bensloh. He watched and waited, and when he saw the green ensign of the Eye, he hailed its captain.
The Emerald Eye allowed him to board with his supplies, and from there on the flame of revolt spread from the Arctic Spark. They disembarked at New Bensloh and linked up with the regional underground headquarters of the Voice of Mitrand, a newspaper advocating for the overthrow of the king. The captain of the Emerald Eye was later invited to the great feast celebrating the king's nobles and court. Seeing a chance, the captain took the Spark along with him as a outside guest a noble was allowed to bring in, calling him a bodyguard. On seeing the king, the Spark drew the imperial crossbow and let loose a single bolt, penetrating the king and striking his heart.
Now with the capital in uproar, the Spark then moved to his next step in vengeance: power to the people. He immediately left the capital on the Emerald Eye to Moriland, the third-largest city with the best chance of voting for independence. Under the aegis of justice, the Spark lit more and more flames burning through the crumbling House of Mitrand. But just two days before the independence referendum, Benjamin's son, Jakob, decided to put an end to what was going on.

The Darkness

The despots have reared their ugly heads.

– The Spark of the Arctic Flame

The Spark was at a speech talking about the excesses of Benjamin when Jakob decided to use the moment to end the independence movement once and for all. Julia Mnemnos and Nicholas Bramwer, working to let the spark escape, were both captured and publicly hung on the orders of the king. The Spark was greivously wounded, and lay dying on the stage. The Imperial Guard left, massacring the shocked crowd on the way.
But justice was the Arctic Spark's sword and truth was his shield: the wind fanned the fire and the blaze stirred the gale. One thirteen-year-old girl who was hiding in the rafters of the room to watch the speech now leapt down, carrying him to her house and nursing him back to health. When Emperor Jakob went to the front to announce his victory, it was her, hooded in black, that fired the crossbow-bolt that took his despotic life. The Spark may have been quashed, but the fire spread before it, and the girl rekindled it, like the wind.
The Imperial Guard tried to restore order to the city, killing all that resisted, regardless of whether they were armed. They then asked the local police force to support them, but instead of turning their weapons on the innocent populace, the police fired on the Imperial Guard. The spark, now limping along with crutches, a permanent wound from crossbow-bolts, drew his legendary crossbow and rushed out of the Arctic Wind's house, hunting down the guardsmen along with the police. The Guard, outnumbered, had to retreat out of the city. Three days later, the town held its referendum, and without the Guard there to rig it, the independence motion passed with flying colors.

The Vengeance

If there is one word that the Arctic Spark personifies, it is vengeance. I don't blame him: he was left for dead on an icy atoll. I still try to curb his passion, however. It would be too much of a shame if he became as merciless as his predecessor.

– Arctic Wind (Soraya of Mitrand)

Next, for his final revenge, the Arctic Spark, now supported by the young girl (the Wind), the captain of the Eye (the Light), and the populace (the Flame), needed weaponry to defend against the inevitable invading army that would come and quash their revolt. But no such army came: after witnessing the massacres, most army groups simply defected to the revolting side. So instead of having to defend against an impossible siege, the Arctic Spark found himself marching at the head of seventy thousand towards the capital.
The capital tried to keep its gates closed, but loyal citizens rushed the gates from the inside, and soon the capital was taken. The vengeance the Spark had was severe: he executed the corrupt court of the king and personally shot his sentencing judges. His vengeful spirit was intense: he continued on his rampage as Soraya watched in horror and stopped him from murdering the innocent sailors that had put him on the island. The Spark wanted to have his revenge, to have the power, to live life as a new emperor, with Soraya as his queen. But once again, he put his loyalty above his own self-interest.
After a quick convention, giving a constitution and a congress, the Spark had gone from having nothing but certain death to having a republic under his command. He ruled for ten years, stepping down for a new leader afterwards. He is venerated as one of the best leaders in the history of Mitrand, his permanent limp a reminder of his advocacy for the weak and his sacrifice for his country, his cutting arctic-blue eyes a reminder of the value of truth and justice in his eyes, his wife's actions helping remind the country about mercy, and the crossbow a reminder of righteous vengeance.

Relationships

The Spark of the Revolution

Husband (Vital)

Towards Soraya of Mitrand (the Wind)

5

Honest

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Soraya of Mitrand (the Wind)

Wife (Vital)

Towards The Spark of the Revolution

5

Frank

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Legal Status

Married

Current Location

Ironfoot Isles

Species

Human

Ethnicity

Mitrandin

Life

409 B.F. 323 B.F. 86 years old

Circumstances of Birth

Born in a mountain village

Circumstances of Death

Died of old age

Spouses

Siblings

Eyes

piercing ice blue

Hair

Short but flowing blond hair

Height

6' 7"

Weight

140 pounds (after malnutrition on island)

Related Plots

• Mythos 1.0 Story Planning

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Character Traits:

• Resourceful
• Charismatic
• Inspirational
• Brave
• Intelligent
• Articulate
• Loyal
• Humble
• Compassionate*
• Vengeful
• Abrasive
• Passionate
• Merciless*
• Fanatical
• Impulsive

* Compassionate applies to the innocent, merciless to the guilty

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Dedication
Article is dedicated to all the Sparks and Qurilion in particular. They are more than all of the positive traits I have listed and none of the negatives. Who knows how many worlds they have inspired or edited? These are the true sparks of the Arctic Flame.