The bitter winds
The bitter winds would bite at Questy’s toes throughout their journey. While Questy never cried nor complained, Toria knew he was much too young to understand. He was too young to know that he had nothing left to live for in Monarchia. Life isn’t fair, she thought. The Prince is dead, the Overlords are in power. With only the undying vision of the Prince, and the love of her son to guide her, she knew her future was now solely in her hands.
While she had thought about her escape for months, she knew when the time was right the window of opportunity would be brief. The time had come. As the Overlords celebrated the winter feast, the calamity throughout the kingdom was the perfect diversion for her to flee. Toria knew the hills to the north were not guarded by the Overlords. While the Overlords claimed there was no threat to the north, Toria had heard the rumors of the land that existed on the other side of the mountains. Democratia was supposed to be a land where people worked together to rule themselves. While this concept was foreign to Toria, she found it intriguing. Maybe this place she had heard about was just a desire for those who needed hope. Maybe it was just an accumulation of the dreams of others like her, who just needed some where to run. For right now, a risk, based on hopes of what could be possible, fueled by the desires to make it possible, did not seem to be all that bad. The risk of it all being merely a foolish dream was worth taking compared to living as a slave in a land where she was told she would be royalty.
As Toria and Questy fled through the mountains she would have much time to reflect. She remembered happy times as a young girl. As cold as the mountain winds would get, she could close her eyes while she rested and feel the warm sunshine beat upon her as she would relive the memories of walking barefoot on the beaches of Monarchia. It seemed like seemed like only yesterday when she would meet the Prince. There were many happy memories of her and the Prince at the beach. There were many fond memories of a young couple planning for a future, and a family. The greatest warmth was felt as she remembered the joy of the Prince when his son was born.
Unfortunately the visions would always tell entire saga, as she would also relive the taking of Monarchia by the Overlords. The initial warmth of all those dreams would eventually turn into a nightmare as she was forced to relive the death of the Prince. The nightmare would bring her back to the cold reality of her journey now in progress. The chill became shocking as she realized she was not running from uncertainty, but running for survival. But even in the chill of her current situation she felt the warmth of Questy. She knew in her heart that Prince Pera would want Questy to have the opportunities he had planned for them. While the boy may never claim the throne he was promised, she knew he would have the strength to be a great leader. While Questy may never feel the warmth of the beaches where his parents had met, Toria knew she must find a place where the warmth of this boy could develop into the fiery passion of his father, a great leader.
With her will to believe and the power of her mind intact, Toria would march onward. With Questy firmly holding on to her, the visions of the past , and hopes for the future, would be more than enough to motivate her. How odd she thought, she had grown up in a land where those who would rule were always thought to be different from those who would not. Now that the chance for her own son to be king had been taken away from her, she would flee to a land where all men fought to be equal.
(This is just one passage from a sci fi adventure novel I started writing 20 years ago. Part of the book are notes on paper, while some of the missing links like this one have been written just recently.) |
