The Vidar didn't fight as the Avigdor tied her wrists together. She didn't fight as they dragged her body from the ground and into a small carriage. She didn't fight as the horses ran along the streets, and scenery passed quickly out the window. She didn't fight as she was taken out of the carriage and down stairs after stairs, each step getting darker until she could no longer see the light of the world. She didn't fight as they shoved her into a tomb, and sealed it. She didn't scream as their footsteps died and only silence reached her. She was no longer the warrior everyone knew her for. She was only a long gone woman who had once ruled the Dragonaries and the Orpheus. But no feelings reached her heart and head and body except happiness and hope. If the nice woman thought she hadn't heard, she was wrong. For a day now, every second, her message had swirled through her head.
The resurrectors have been dead for years. If they had been alive no one valued would have died.
And so the Vidar had gone and found the last evidence of a resurrector, and then planted it to grow, along with all her other seeds. In ten years, a resurrector will be born. After that, who knew how long it would take for a resurrector to find out about the Vidar. But eventually, one of them would. And then the Vidar would have less death ahead of her and more life.
So with that, Roxane let go of her title, closed her heavy eyes and fell asleep.
She didn't wake again.
YOU ARE READING
Roxane
خيال (فانتازيا)What if only women lived in the world? What if each of them owned dragons? What if they were all warriors? Roxane was born into a poor family that no one knew of. Roxane was a kid no one cared for. That was, until a young woman named Thanatos found...
