Sancha: A Spirit Animals Story

Chapter 10: Friends and Dreams

A few weeks following her arrival at Greenhaven, Sancha's training began. Tarik was strict but understanding in his training style, expecting punctuality but not pushing Sancha to her absolute limits. At first, he drilled in exercises designed to improve her stamina and build up some thin muscle. Sancha had never been anywhere near brawny and her time at sea had sucked away much of what little strong muscle she'd had. 

She had a precise if not strict routine for each day that accounted for meal times, training, breaks, and included a curfew (though this was apparently something all the recruits at the castle had to abide by). 

She rose rather early and breakfasted in the dining hall. Sancha had to admit the food at Greenhaven was a large improvement over even the most appetizing dishes she'd tended to eat back in Stetriol. She may have been royalty and had plenty to eat most of the time, but having enough food having a nutritious and enjoyable diet were not the same. Seafood was the bulk of her childhood diet, with seed bread, cheese, yams and parsnips, and various nuts also being staples. Fruit was fairly limited, mainly figs and plums, often dried for preservation, and these weren't easy to come by, even for the well off like Sancha. Sancha could probably count on one hand the number of times she'd eaten fresh fruit.

Here though, food was far fresher than Sancha had ever seen. And non seafood meat was more abundant. Sure, they had cattle in small numbers on stetriol, but most were reserved for dairy, and many in the aristocracy were stubborn enough in the notion that cattle and other herd animals were filthy and their meat was only good enough for poor folk. Sancha, though she had met those with such beliefs, didn't believe this herself, largely since she figured food was food and if she were starving, her dignity was far from a priority. 

Much like at home, food at Greenhaven was largely stewed or in soups, but it wasn't quite the same. It may have been good, but Sancha felt a certain pang of homesickness, even if home meant her meals were less appealing. At least she had her brother to share meals with her. They used eat together outside, on an outcropping overlooking the ocean. Once, at the age of seven or eight, had dared each other to jump off into the water below and Shane was about to do it before their nurse found the pair and stopped him before bringing them inside to be scolded kindly by their mother. 

Shane. She missed him the most. Her twin. Her other half. Part of Sancha had always pitied Drina for being a single-born. She fell ill and had to bear it alone. Sure, Sancha and Shane had known it was likely they were next, but they'd taken some comfort in the idea they'd be able to suffer together. 

Sancha had an inkling that Drina was somewhat jealous of Sancha and Shane's bond, something she did not have, amongst other things. Shane was heir from his first breath, with Drina and Sancha being overlooked. It wouldn't have been so hard if Drina hadn't been older then her siblings. To her, it had seemed wrong that she should be passed over for being a girl. Sancha felt sorry for Drina and didn't like it either, but ultimately, it didn't really effect her as she was younger than Shane and Drina and no matter what primogeniture may have been, she wouldn't have inherited the throne any way. Nor did she want to. If she was honest, the last thing Sancha wanted was to preside over a shattered land that could not be healed. She remembered reading of one of her ancestors who supposedly committed suicide a few years into his reign. She honestly couldn't blame him much, other than the fact that his heir was an infant, who could do no better.

But that was long past. In any case, there was a cure. At least, so it had seemed. Sometimes, Sancha found herself wondering if Zerif had lied entirely. Perhaps Drina wasn't cured and Sancha had made a deal with a demon and been chased out of her home for nothing. 

She wondered what Shane was going through. With their father dead, he ought to be king. But if what Olvan had told her was true, then he'd been usurped by her uncle Gar. She wouldn't have been shocked had Gar been chosen to serve as Shane's regent until his majority, just as he had during the incapacitation of his brother Irwin. But a prince regent was not a king, and Olvan had called Gar a king. She knew her uncle sought to hold power and keep his nation strong, but if he'd wanted to take the throne for himself, why not do it when her father was still alive? Tarik told her that some areas in Erdas often passed over younger and closer heirs in favor of older ones to ensure stability and prevent conflict. But Stetriol had never done such a thing. Feliandor himself was barely of age when he ascended the throne and began his invasion. Then again, as far she could tell from studying her family tree, there weren't any other available heirs at that time.