The Lost Heir

Tell me why

Its been weeks since the dead king rested in his grave. The kingdom was now under construction.
Ever since the funeral, everyone have been on there edges.
The new king now has successfully took the throne and is now under his rule.

I sat quitely on my bed reading the latet published book written by my favorite poet, Jose kalvin. I keep repeating one of the poems in my mind, hopeing the memorize it.

So he has fallen into his burning grave
Nights has passed since he has fallen
The king lies in dreadful compostion
The heir in sleep in the stolen throne
The throne stolen decades ago
Pradia o have you fallen
Your land soaked with grief
No matter who rules it
Will never ever
Find peace
Until
Ruled
Right

Its words roaming in my head. Sure the poem has no sense, but it had meaning in it.

Will never ever find peace.

I close my book and get dressed. I pin my hair in a bun and wear my cloak. I look at the piece of mirror i found last year and stare at my reflection. I was taller than most girls. My beauty covered with my cloak. A knife tightened in my waist, and red boots covering my feet.

I pass through the alley.
Childern playing in tne dirt
Women chatting about their husbands
Girls wondring shyly around the boys
And men cheerig their beer cups.

Life in the alley was back to normal after weeks of charm. Nobody cared about the late king, only the nobles.

The nobles with unbearable power

The market today was packed with supplies, how odd.
I glare at the corn master. Staring at the juicy baked corn, my mouth watering for it. I look through my pocket, only to find a penny. I had no money, no job, and no future. Money gone from buying medicine and worthless books. I leave the market with shame.
Dark clouds threaten to flood

Its about the quarter of the morning

Drops of water hit the ground

People hover inside, afraid to get soaked

I stand alone, feeling the rush of rain on my face
And i feel the freedom.

"You must be enjoying it"
I open my eyes.
A boy
Dirty blond hair. Broad muscular shoulders. Unusual green eyes.
My best friend
Crimson Sander.

"You seem to be enjoying it yourself also" i laughed.
"Me and you seem to be the only ones, to feel freedom within the rain" he looked at me with lonely eyes.
I gave him a friendly smile and he gestured me towards his home.
Misses Sander was knitting in her chair when we came in. Her golden hair was strapped around her shoulders.

" Oh hello Anya"
I atake my soaked cloak and wrap it on the veranda near tne fire place. I sat next to Crim while he explained to his mother why he couldnt get the job. Misses Sander had no expression in her face. This wasnt the first time Crim lost a job.
" Crim you do understand that you fathers money is running out, and we cant keep it much longer" she said.
Crim sighted and went to stand next to the fireplace.
" Mother i do understand your concern, but believe me ill find a job soon, i promise"
She countinued knitting her hat, not saying a word.
i stared at Crim, searching his face, trying to find what on his mind, but i already knew what he felt.
An outcast
Like me
Like everyone else.