Aquaica: From the Depths(Teaser)

Rebuilding Aquaica

The fading leaves of the forest canopy rustled noisily in the cool autumn breeze. Dried leaves littered the dirt road before them in a rainbow of bronzen colors, crackling under each heavy hoof step as the tired horses plodded along. Early birds rummaged through the foliage in hopes of finding a quick meal, while squirrels raced around trying to stash away their winter supply of seeds and nuts.

A caravan of weary travelers trudged down the old path that followed a meandering river. Their clothes were noticeably dirty, their mounts streaked with mud from the previous two days of rain. The majority of these travelers were refugees from Fawna, who had fled from their homes in order to escape the clutches of the tyrannical Queen Farah. They carried no belongings with them, only the tattered clothes on their backs and the dwindling supply of food that King Samarian provided for their travels. Those who could still walk did so without complaint, though it was clear to see they were exhausted as they limped along. The wagons were filled with the elderly and injured who managed to escape the invasion alive.

There were two people among them who didn't seem to belong - a male youth and a young woman. Though their clothing was fairly soiled as well, they didn't display any of the wear and tear, and they had their own personal supplies and gear strapped to the saddles of their mounts. The young woman looked very downcast, lost in her own thoughts. Her unusually long white hair and pale blue eyes were a dead giveaway of her Aquaian heritage - the first unfortunate race to suffer at the hands of Queen Farah. The youth riding next to her was only sixteen. He was still rather boyish, lacking any noticeable muscle tone or facial hair, and his blue eyes and blond hair did nothing to improve his childish physique. As they rode in silence, he wrote something down in a journal, periodically glancing up at the Aquaian woman before returning to his work.

There was a familiar roaring sound in the distance that meant they would soon be arriving at their final destination. Serenity leaned forward and stroked her white horse's thick neck, his fur damp and matted with sweat.

"Almost there, Barron. Just a little bit further," she urged the weary animal.

As if he understood her words, Barron raised his head and pitched his ears forward, quickening his pace ever so slightly.

Serenity let out a soft rippling giggle. "I know how you feel."

After five long days on the road, her back ached and she definitely had saddle sores. She could only imagine what Barron must feel like. He was probably eager to be brushed and bedded down in a clean stall of fresh hay. It suddenly dawned on her that she might have some trouble providing that for the tired mount. With no stable boys waiting at the castle, she was going to have to bed Barron down herself. She knew there was a small brush to groom him with in his saddle bag, and she was sure she would find plenty of grooming supplies in the old stables. She used to groom her old horse, Charming, all the time. But what would she use for bedding? Any hay or straw left there would probably be old and musty. And what about oats? Surely any food that might still be there would be spoiled by now.

"I guess we will have to do the best we can with what we have, right, Barron?"

The horse replied with a satisfied snort.

The trees thinned to reveal a towering cliff side, the crashing sound of twin waterfalls now drowning out any sound of the surrounding woodlands. Sitting atop the rock wall, skirted by the roaring rivers, was a grand castle, overlooking the valley below.

Her stomach twisted with anxiety at the sight of the home she was forced to flee over three years ago. She wondered if this dreadful feeling would ever cease to plague her. Could this place ever truly feel like home again? she wondered. Doubtful.