You Are Made of Iron

Chapter II pt. 2

Eight years earlier:
​Zeilla ran with into the living room, her tiny feet hurry past her mother so as to not be seen. She had been playing in the flower garden when it started sprinkling. And as the rain met the ground, the dirt turned to mud all over her shoes. She didn't even notice until it was too late. She expected her mother to scold her and to order her to wash off, but her mother seemed to not even notice her. That was when Zeilla noticed that she was crying.
​"Mother," Zeilla asked, forgetting all about her muddy shoes, "what's wrong?" Zeilla's mother still did not answer. She just continued sobbing. Her father walked in then, a grim shadow clouding his usual cheerfully bright face.
​"Dad, what's wrong with mommy?" A confused and frustrated look crossed her face when her father did not answer as well. Her mother stood up then and without even looking at her, put Zeillas hand in hers.
​"It's time to go."
​"What is it time for mother?" Zeilla asked. She had a bad feeling about this, a really bad feeling. Her mother did not answer her, and the girl grew more anxious. Her mother walked to the door with Zeilla in tow and stopped there as her husband spoke "Please do not do this. We could hide her! They don't have to know." She hung her head, wiping her tears away. She slowly shook her head as she looked up at him with a look that the little girl knew well. Her mother would not be swayed on whatever this was. "It doesn't matter if they know or not. It is what will happen if we do not take their advice that we must fear."
​She ordered Zeilla to get her boots and jacket, as the rain had turned from a trickle seeping from the clouds to torrential raining. Little Zeilla was upset by the odd way her parents were acting, and so decided to obey her mother straight away instead of asking questions first like she always did. She grabbed her tiny boots and slipped them on, but once they had stepped outside into the pouring rain she could not contain herself any longer.
​"Mommy, where are we going? Why were you crying? Why isn't daddy coming with us?" Zeilla's mother did not answer any but the last of these questions.
​"Your father is not coming because he does not want to be blamed for anything that will happen.
​"But, what's going to happen mommy? And where are we going in this rain?" Still unresponsive Zeillas mother stopped in front of the stables, and opened the big door. As they stepped inside she told Zeilla to stay where she was. After a minute or two she came back with a saddled horse and a piece of rope. Zeilla recognized the horse as her favorite horse, Da'rvan. Da'rvan what a nice horse, he never bucked, and his stride was long and smooth. Usually he was ridden only for leisurely rides. Da'rvan was an old horse, but his when he walked it almost seemed like you were riding a panther instead of a traveling beast. So when her mother brought out this horse to ride, Zeilla assumed, into town she was even more confused.
​"Mother, why are we riding da'rvan?" she asked, this time fed up with being ignored, her voice demanded an answer. She stomped her foot for good measure.
Her mother heaved a sigh, "We are riding da'rvan because I want you to enjoy this ride as much as possible."
​"What, do you mean by that mommy?" Her mother was once again. She mounted and then pulled the girl up in front of her. They rode for what seemed like hours -but in actuality was only one- before they reached the city. Her mother slowed the horse to a trot once they were inside of the town gates and then several minutes later, stopped altogether in front of the castle walls. There was a stranger there in a dirt brown robe that appeared to be waiting for them. No, the stranger was waiting for them. Zeillas mother dismounted about thirty paces from the stranger who appeared to be perfectly fine with them taking their time.