The Embassy - Prologue
A compelling story should always have something of its own to say, some new perspectives or ideas to explore, something new to bring into the world. It is something that could have only been created by the person writing it at a particular moment in time, making it something that on the one hand is entirely their own and on the other takes on its own life as soon as others start reading and interpreting it.
I first got the idea for ‘The Embassy’ after a dream I had while I was travelling. Some of the main plot points were written at about 5 in the morning, my pen rapidly flying over my notepad so that I would not forget a single thing. The main thing that stuck with me was the mystery of this building and what the people in it were up to, further amplified by all the unsettling glimpses I garnered of events larger than myself.
The main focus of this story is therefore precisely this mystery, with the characters catching mere glimpses of things going on outside of their periphery. There will be hints at events going on that are not immediately clear to both the characters and to the reader. The main challenge is making sure that the way we experience the story through the characters’ eyes, that is to say without knowing the full context, does not end up obscuring their motivations and experiences. Feel free to let me know when there are certain aspects of the situations that the characters find themselves in that are unclear to you, and I will reassess whether and to what extent that should be allowed to detract from the central focus of the story.
💡The role of perspective: an experience that is immediate and full of unknowns
With exception of this prologue, which is written in third person, the story is told from a first person perspective. This is not meant to be interpreted as a portrayal of the protagonist as myself, of course taking into account that each writers’ characters to a certain extent contain elements of themselves. Instead, I chose this perspective because it provides a sense of immediacy that allows us to intimately experience the events through the eyes of the protagonist. What makes this such a good fit to this story is how this method of storytelling puts the reader on equal footing with the character as they both try to piece together what exactly is happening. While this method could have been equally effective for the prologue, where we see the embassy for the first time through the eyes of a different character than the protagonist, I felt that it was important to make a clear distinction between these two different people to avoid unnecessary confusion as to whether these two are the same person. Nevertheless, the way this first part of the story is told brings a similar sense of immediacy, enhanced with the inclusion of italicized direct thoughts that emphasize the desperate situation that this person finds himself in.The Embassy - Prologue
Almost...Almost…
Matheo Llamas, the freshly elected president of the republic of Novo Tuskia, could almost reach the casing of the window with his right hand. The situation was desperate. Mere days after his inauguration, he had suddenly found himself a prisoner of this lavish colonial era Rococo building, the colourful memory of a bygone age that now functioned as the official embassy of the country of Aknavia. Llamas looked off into the distance, past the giant fountain in the middle of the courtyard, where beyond the watchtowers and the electrified fences there lay the country that he loved so dearly. He swallowed as he looked down at the ground again, two floors below him.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
But Llamas knew that a daring escape was the only way he was ever getting out of the Aknavian embassy alive. That is why he had to make it out of there before anyone noticed that he was no longer inside his room. Yet seeing as he also very much wanted to avoid cracking open his head on the mosaic tiles below, he was moving with careful steps along the narrow window sill, a thin wooden plank that looked far from stable enough to hold his weight for very long. After several more moments of painstaking effort, Llamas’ hand finally grabbed onto the head casing of the next room. Then, one leg at a time, he stepped over the gap and firmly planted his feet on the sill. Unfortunately, the double-doored casement windows of the room next to the one he came from were locked shut. He pressed his head against the glass and peered inside. Pascal was still lying there on the floor, motionless. Llamas turned his head away, a burning tear in his eye. How could they have done this to such a kind, loyal soul? How could they have done any of this? He had only been president for a week now, how could things have turned so sour already? Sure, there was bound to be some resistance to the reforms he had promised, but not so soon. Not like this.
Finding no other way to open Pascal’s windows, Llamas saw no other choice but to attempt his escape without him. He resolved to keep moving in the same direction, hoping to find at least one of the windows on this side of the building unlocked. If none of them were, there was one last option: the large balcony that was located right where both halves of the symmetrical building came together to form its great U-shape. The balcony doors were still wide open. Behind them, he knew there was a staircase leading directly down to the ground floor, through which he hoped to make his way out of the embassy.
Llamas kept shuffling across the narrow ledge towards the other end. He could hear the wooden window sills crack underneath his feet. This wasn’t how he had imagined the pressures of public office. One misstep and you’re history.
Keep breathing...
Upon reaching the edge of the window sill, Llamas threw another glance into the courtyard. The guard near the main entrance was still looking at his newspaper, bored out of his mind. The one directly below him was too busy barking orders over his walkie, and the one behind the fountain did not have eyes for anything but the entrance gate. Llamas mentally readied himself for another leap.
Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale…
Taking deep breaths was a technique that he had learned during his acting days. It gave you a sense of control over your nerves before you had to go on stage to say your first lines, slowed down your racing thoughts. It worked very well for speeches too, although he had not had the chance to give many of those yet. He now stretched his arm all the way until his fingertips came close enough to the next window casing, and moved himself across the gap like before. Unfortunately, the next window was locked as well. It probably had something to do with the new arrivals expected tomorrow. Just exactly who those people were or why they would be coming here, he did not have time to worry about right now. First he had to get far, far away from here.
Easy… Take your time…
Flick.
What was that? Llamas turned his head. To his horror, he saw that the light in the room he had escaped from had just been flicked on. There was angry shouting.
Out of time.
He quickly leapt towards the next window in one swift motion, praying that no one would hear it. One of his feet missed the ledge, but his fingers managed to hang on to the casing.
‘There he is!’
He had been spotted. The three guards posted outside began rushing towards him, guns drawn. Carefully moving from window to window was out of the question now. He had to reach the balcony, then go down the spiralling staircase, and finally rush right out the back before anyone would have a chance to stop him. Speed was everything now.
Quick, another jump.
His left hand grazed the wall when he grabbed the casing of the next window. It stung so much more than it had any right to. He tried his best to ignore it. Suddenly, someone threw open the windows right next to him, but Llamas quickly flung himself to the side, only hanging on with his right hand. He was not letting go. Not now. With incredible rage, he kicked back one of the windows. It smashed right into the jamb, shattering several of the glass panels and showering his pursuer with glass. From behind him, he saw one of the courtyard guards taking aim at him, so Llamas quickly made another cat-like leap to the next window. The shot missed him by a cat tail’s length and instead shot off a piece of the ornate window moulding. Now that he had accomplished this miraculous acrobatic feat, the young president was only one more jump away from reaching the balcony on which all his hopes were now set. The guard who had been barking orders was scolding the one who had taken the shot. It would seem they needed him alive, at least for now. Unfortunately, there was little time to ponder what this meant for his chances of escape, as the ledge beneath his feet was starting to give way under his weight. One way or another, the success of his desperate escape attempt was about to be decided.
Now or never.
With no other thoughts but those of escape and what would happen if he failed, Llamas flung himself towards the balcony. He grabbed the balustrade with both arms and pulled himself over the top. He could hear the wooden sill falling down on the ground below. Knowing that there was little time to catch his breath, Llamas sprung to his feet, ready to dash inside. But then several heavily armed guards came rushing onto the small patio. When they saw him, they immediately stopped and aimed their guns at him. The way inside was blocked.
‘Give it up Mr. President, there is no way out,’ one of them said.
The president held up his hands. His heart was pounding so hard that he could feel it in his ears, and yet his face was drained of all its blood. He had failed. Slowly, Llamas turned around and looked across the courtyard.
Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale…
With a sudden burst of movement, he jumped on top of the balustrade and put all of his strength into one final leap.
***I hope you enjoyed reading the first part of The Embassy. Next time, we shall be leaving the eerie confines of this mysterious building for a while as we step into the shoes of our protagonist, but rest (un)assured that its goings-on shall be finding their way back into the story soon enough.
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