Beyond The River

DEVASTATION & AGONY

Leala's pov:-

It changes again, now I'm standing in my own castle, in my own room, my parents are here, and so am I, but I'm in a crib, almost a year old, playing with a toy whose memory will be long lost a few years later.

"It's happening just as she had said. It's happening." My mother speaks with worry and fear clear in her voice.

"Maybe we should talk to her, try to find a solution." My father suggests, but his eyes betray the sorrow he's trying to hide as he looks down at little Leala.

"You think I haven't tried? I have tried to reach out to her a lot. But it's of no use. She had warned me that I'll never be able to go back." My mother's eyes shed tears as she speaks.

My father embraces her as she rests her head on his shoulder and cries uncontrollably.

"It doesn't matter what Maiara said. We'll love our daughter, we'll love her so much that destiny and fate and magick and even the gods will have to leave her with us." My father says in a stern tone, making a vow.

I chuckle darkly at his words, because that is not true. He didn't love me enough to keep all the evil in the world at bay. He didn't love me nearly enough. He didn't love me at all. All I had ever had for a father was a king who saw me as nothing more than one of his ministers. 

The scene shifts again as I'm thrown into the garden of our palace.

I look around and see a 4 year old Leala running around with a small wooden sword. 

I remember this.

It was my 4th birthday and I had received thousands of gifts from the palace royalties, gold and diamond and amber and rubies, yet this small wooden sword had been my favourite gift that year.

Hensley had gifted me this sword, he had been a little embarassed as he saw all the other expensive gifts, but I had told him that it was the best gift, that he  was the best.

After that he had taught me swordsmanship. He had made me the excellent soldier I was today. He had in a sense become the only true family I had in that lonely palace. He was everything I had.

He would play with me during days and calm me down after my nightmares during night times.

After my mother, he had been the only person I could turn to, could count on and could trust.

And now I had lost him too. Now I had lost everything. I think to myself.

The scene starts to fade again, but this time I'm not sent to a different place or a different memory, this time I'm shown a fast forward play of my life. Everything moves by slow enough that I can understand what is happening.

There I am, 2 years old, in my mothers arms, falling asleep to her lullaby. safe.

There I am, 5 years old, in my fathers lap, scratching my cheek on his rough stubble. Happy.

There I am, 6 years old, running around the castle while Hensley tries to chase after me. Laughing.

There I am, 7 years old, screaming while blood flows down my arm. Scared.

There I am, 7 years old, all in black at my mothers funeral. Agonised.

There I am, 7 years old, crying my heart out in the solace of my room. Devastated.

There I am, 9 years old, learning to hold a sword properly. Angry.

There I am, 11 years old, waking up from a nightmare, sweaty and unhinged. Angry.