Page 127 of A Dead Man's B-Side
I may not have taken the time to learn Russian, but with people constantly assuming I grew up there because of my accent, before treating me like I’d been an agent directly under the Soviet Union during the Cold War, I caved and forced myself to learn everything there was to know about my heritage. Or at least, my country’s heritage.
I was born in America, that wasn’t a lie, but I didn’t always feel American. My parents were too lost in the vague notion of theAmerican Dreamto notice that their background would always be a tainted part of them; something they couldn’t wash away.
It took me a long time to come to terms with it, that America wasn’t and will never be my home. Perhaps it was predestined; a dirt-poor, homeless, lost boy somehow making it out of the grimy slums of America and into the number one academy in the world.
“Mikhaylov, care to counter that argument?” Mr Caddel called on the girl sitting near the far wall under the windows, and she shifted her careless eyes up from her notebook. “No. He’s right.”
I didn’t take note of her often, only during attendance when an accent thicker than mine called back, “Present.”
She had pitch black hair, identical to Rain's, but it was cut to a bob with bangs that twitched when she blinked.
One could say–me–you could hear her from down the hall with the rotating assortment of silver jewelry she always had on.
She gave off an edgy vibe that matched that of a punk rockstar. And I noticed her once in the halls, now that I recall, when Paris had groaned in envy at her boots.
Caddel laughed and slipped his hands in the trouser pockets of the suit that made him look like a historian. “Well, for everyone else, let me tell you that it is a rabbit hole. Russia, or more formally known in political or government contexts as the USSR, has a long, long history that one particular family,” he said, his eyes taking on a spark at his next words, “remained standing through it all. Can anyone tell me which family?”
Hands began to raise as he walked towards the board to pick up a chalk stick. “Kensington, enlighten us.”
“Which one?” The more put-together brother questioned, and Caddel shrugged. “Well, King, if you’re already speaking…”
King, as opposed to his brother, didn’t have bags under his eyes and a wrinkled uniform, and from the looks of it, wasn’t the twin who was currently asleep with his head shoved under his arms. “The Novikov family, sir.”
Caddel seemed to almost brighten as he pointed the chalk in his hand to King and turned to write the name on the board. "Precisely, the Novikov family can be traced back to the time when the federation of Slavic tribes, called Keivan Rus’, was in effect. Now, the word novikov linguistically means newcomer. This term was coined for the Novikov family because they were, in fact, newcomers who were known to be travellers, nomads, across Russia before settling in modern-day Northern Russia among East Slavictribes. Now, this may sound like background information, but to scholars, the term East Slavic functions most primarily as a linguistic classification, rather than a geographical indicator.
“Of course, there isn’t a complete divorce from geographical context. Historically, Slavic tribes did not categorize themselves within language families–scholars did that later. You see, early Slavic peoples identified themselves and each other by tribe, ruler, locality. They used names that were tied to ancestors, to… rivers, or regions. There was no formal concept of ‘west’, ‘east’, or ‘south’ tribes. So, when a scholar or a historian says East Slavic, unless they are speaking carelessly, they are referring to the modern linguistic branch rather than the literal sense of the word.”
August’s hand raised, and Caddel called on him to speak with a point of his hand. “Well, is it intentional that the Eastern tribes were placed on the… Eastern–if you could call it that–side of the map?”
Caddel nodded, almost excitedly, and answered, "Splendid path of curiosity, Mr Myro. East Slavic means from the eastern branch of the Slavic language family. However, it isn’t done intentionally for geographical purposes, but rather for convenience. One reason is that it mirrors the Western reading direction. But there are a few things to remember: language families do not have a ‘right’ or ‘left’, the map is graphical, so it could be flipped or rotated without losing its meaning.”
“Did the federation of tribes reflect a sort of conflicting division?” Rain spoke out of turn, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to chastise her.
“No, however, that does bring me back to the main point I was trying to make. The federation was not one formed out of any warring factor. Despite this, the Novikov family were called newcomers and treated like outsiders because of it. Now, in a time where the world seemed smaller than we now know, when fables had more truths than reality and people tended to drop like flies because of the lack of medicine, war, famines–you name it–their hesitance in accepting the Novikov family can be overlooked. However, this went on for a very, very long time. Until the Novikovs began rising in the ranks as decades passed.
“With the decline of the Keivan Rus’ and the rise of the Grand Duchy of Moscow, the Novikovs strategically remained a constant in Russia’s political scene.” He began waving his hands around as if to refresh his mind. “Now, this is of course a very fast-paced lesson because Russia’s history is long and rich, and sadly we cannot fit it all in one lesson. I know, I know–you students love me and want us to spend more time together, but sadly that is not the case.”
The class let out a collective chuckle as he continued on. “Alright, so,” he took in a breath. “The Novikov family’s epithet is…”
He waited for someone to answer, and Wolf did, “The Long-standing House of Novikov.”
Caddel grinned. “Thank you, Mr Kingsley. Just like the Osei family is formally referred to as the Erudite House of Osei. Many families, your own, even, have these epithets. However, the Novikov family is a large and honourable one. The reason I’m telling you thisis because if there is any piece of information there is to know about Russia, a Novikov is somehow attached. Think of it like this: the NovikovsareRussia. You will learn this when you read…” He drummed his fingers on his desk as he reached over his lesson plan to read out the chapter numbers. “Chapters sixteen to twenty. Take notes and come to class having completed the reading because next class, we will delve deeper into strategic ascents to power with a focused analytical example of the Novikovs. On that note, you are all dismissed.”
As the sound of students packing up filled the classroom, Wolf turned to me and hissed, “Where were you? Mr Browne asked about you, and Mr Finch assigned an extra credits assignment you missed–agribusiness potential.”
I smiled sarcastically. “Well, it’s a good thing I have you to fill me in.”
“Don’t be cheeky.”
I rolled my eyes and collected my notes. “Again, you’re not British. Besides, I was held up.”
“With Paris?”
I paused, my hand hovering over my pencil before forcing my muscles into normalcy, and continued packing. “Why would you say that?”
He followed my movements and collected his work. “I noticed her missing as well. And your reaction confirmed it. What happened?”
I wanted to confide in him, considering the newfound knowledge Paris revealed about Rain. God knows I didn’t know what I was doing or if I was doing it right in my attempts to help Paris. But she’d asked me not to speak of it, and I promised. "Nothing happened. Just slept in, and I’m sure she did as well. We were up discussing–” I paused in my speech and looked around, for wandering eyes, only to find the room almost empty, save for Professor Caddel. But he was busy bidding students farewell by the door, ever the benign educator. I lowered my voice and said, “Callum Queen. We need to talk. All of us.”
