"One does not establish a dictatorship in order to safeguard a revolution; one makes a revolution in order to establish a dictatorship."
-George Orwell
THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION
CHAPTER ONE
March 13, 1881
Ivan didn't even feel sick at the sight of the Czar's mutilated body. He didn't feel sick at the damage it would be for him and the Empire. He didn't feel sick at the blood coating his hands or the blood that trickled down his face by the blast of the explosion.
He felt sick because once again, blood was spilt, and more heartache would fill his already damaged soul.
The blood of royalty coated his hands, the sickly smoke of smoke filling his lungs, ash from what was a bullet-proof carriage gifted by Napoleon the Third. It had proven quite useful given the countless assassination attempts that the Czar had faced. It had protected him for the longest time.
But this time he wasn't so lucky.
The Czar's head rested in his lap, splatters of blood staining Ivan's pants and blouse. The Czar couldn't move his legs - no - what was left of his legs. That was only one detail of the horrific scene. A sickly gash laid embedded in his stomach, his face mutilated and smeared with blood. Silently, Ivan used the sleeve to wipe the blood off of the royal's face, something to make him look the slightest bit human. Something that didn't look monstrous. This appeared like damage only the demons of hell could inflict. The was damage that was inhuman. But this was the result of man and technology; an explosive and two men from a revolutionary group, one that thought if they could take out the very top, the system would be paralyzed, the system would fall; Narodnaya Volya.
The People's Will.
The Czar gasps for breath were nothing more but useless rasps; the Czar felt as though his lungs were about to collapse. Ivan pushed out the horrified screams of his people, pushed out the sounds of raging flames, his eyes shut peacefully as he tried to soothe his dying Czar. He would feel hurried footsteps rush towards him, Ivan's eyes fluttering open, averting his eyes to two royal soldiers gazing down at the two, horrified at the damage inflicted upon the Czar. Ivan stared blankly, his violet eyes glazed.
"We need to get him to the Winter Palace." Ivan gave a mournful look to the dying Czar.
"Our Czar is dying."
The Romanovs could barely lay their eyes upon him. The only one was the Czarina, the only one that mustered the courage to grasp the hand of her dying husband. The Czarina of the Russian Empire was mortified, she was wordless. This was it. She was going to be a widow.
Ivan noted the dread that was given on the successor of the Czar. His name too was Aleksandr, after his father.
It was good that Aleksandr the Second died at the right time. Perhaps this Aleksandr wouldn't be as bad as his father; declaring war on the Ottoman Empire and the Qin Dynasty. And this Aleksandr, he vowed to never even let the same fate befall him.
Ivan's violet eyes blinked, his gaze reverting to what was now the lifeless shell of the Czar. The Czar's personal flag was now being lowered from the top of the palace. Chances were people were gathering, watching the flag being lowered.
The Czar of Russia was dead and Aleksandr would become his successor.
Ivan was unfazed by the death of the czar. Why should he care? This was another phase of his life. Czar upon Czar upon Czar. It was like a circle. Never-ending. It was never-ending for over three centuries. The czars had hurt him enough. He had stopped apologizing in crisis that the Czars blame him for. He had stopped apologizing in a war he didn't cause. He had stopped apologizing in a massacre he didn't cause. Yes, there were many Czars that understood. Yekaterina was one of them, she understood everything. She never expected Ivan to apologize for something he had no part in. But the other czars... why? Because he was a monster?
He never knew why he did the things he did. He never knew why he had blood coating over his hands and standing among the bodies of men who died for their nation's sake. He never knew why he resorted to violence. He apologized for that every time. But he stopped apologizing years ago because of what people learned about him. They stopped forgiving them. Now that he thought about it -
They had never even apologized to him to begin with.
Author's Note: The history of my nation is really a rich one. It is one of hardship and victory. It has always seemed like Russia has suffered from crisis to begin with. So far, the period in history that interests the most in the Russian Revolution, events in Russian history that led up to the creation of the United Soviet Socialist Republic and the first Communist state, one that I was born in the aftermath in, but something that my mother and grandmother had lived in.
On a historical note, the events of the Revolution first began to build up with the assassination of Czar Alexander the Second, or as I know him, Aleksandr Nikolaevich. He is one of the most significant Czars in the Romanov Dynasty, given that his assassination marked the Revolution. However, another event could've started the first moments of the Revolution, but I see this as something that motivated Vladimir Lenin. A personal battle between Lenin and the Romanov Family.
The future Lenin's family was the Ulyanov's, nobles in Russia that had a son who they called Sasha. Sasha and a group made a bomb, trying to assassinate Aleksandr. From what I know, Aleksandr was a very humble man, having said, 'Those who repent I will reprieve; those who will not repent I will hang.' Sasha would say, and I quote: "I'll be going against my principles if you ask me to repent." And so he was hung.
Aleksandr the Third was known to be a tough man in Russian history, and yes, his father's death made him vow to never let him fall victim to the assassination his father was victim to. As for the assassination, it is like Russia's 9/11. The newspapers after the events when into full detail, often describing Aleksandr the Second's death as a 'wound inflicted on the body of the state.'
But yeah, I am deciding to write some more historical fanfiction, so, prepare for a lesson and some hell.
Update 7/9/17: Whoops. Accidently confused Aleksandr the III with Nikolai the II.