The Lost Brother (English)

1.

That's what my mother told the people after another speech from the lord of Winteren. A speech meant to make the people believe in lies, to make sure they want to take revenge on everyone who isn't loyal to their king. A speech to bring the people one step closer to war. If you were ready, you'd participate enthusiastically. If you weren't, like my pregnant mother, you'd wait full of frustration for it to take place.

And it did. On July 22nd, 446 a. P. L. (after the Peace of Lithum) at 11:28 am, Uthal was attacked by the Northlings. My mother was staying here for a short period of time. For diplomatic reasons at first, but later because of the reputation the doctors have here. However, after the Starks, also known as the Northlings, declared war on the Orels, she had to stay here for her own safety. Five days after the declaration of war they were already in front of the walls of Uthal, and two more days later they were inside the castle because a traitor let them in. Everyone knew that Uthal was strategically an essential fortress, but nobody expected it would be occupied by the Northlings so soon. Ten minutes after the invasion, while my mother was running through the wet and dark secret tunnels, she got her first pains. The group decided to quickly help her, and five minutes later I was born. The royal guard, who protected us, held up the Northlings at the entrance of the cave. In the end the offensive was too strong and the Northlings broke through. Crossbows were fired and our defense got wiped out in seconds. In the meantime my mother still couldn't leave the scene because she was expecting a twin. At long last, as tragically as it is, my mother and my twin didn't make it. An arrow from the crossbows of the Northlings was sticking out of my mother's head, and that way my mother died together with my twin. The rest of the group then started running while carrying me, away from the madness. We managed to outrun them, which we never would've been able to do if the members of the Royal Guard didn't sacrifice themselves to keep the Northlings out of the cave for the sake of the family name Valennor.

My father, who obviously heard of the attack, already had his ships ready at the coast to pick us up. I got introduced to my father on the way back to castle Seacliff. The good news, which he was happy about untill he started asking questions regarding his wife. When he heard the bad news, he was devastated. They say it changed him forever, made him a different person. When he heard that he would've had another child later it didn't even move him anymore. He just kept me close to him as if I was the only thing that mattered.

Conclusion: my sister has never seen the world. Still, I've always felt like she's watching over me. I even talk to her in my dreams, as if she has always been there. That's how I know I lost a sister. I knew dreams weren't reality, but it felt so real. I actually wanted to believe it, because then I never felt alone. Not that I was alone very often. Everyone was stuck in here. Me and my family weren't allowed to go outside because 'it was safer this way'. Everyone rather stayed inside except for the farmers, mostly old people who weren't afraid of dying, and once a week ten groups of hunters, to gather enough food for a whole week. After Uthal had fallen the peace of Lithum was officially over, a peace deal that stopped fighting for a century. Most families, including mine on castle Seacliff, were hiding for the war. Even though we were very rich, even we didn't want to be part of this fight of two powerful families. Still, we all knew what was going on. The Starks have had a rapid expansion over the past few years, having the north united for the first time in centuries. When they started occupying all of the coast north of the Lithal ocean everyone started to feel threatened and the Harringtons declared war on the Starks. For six years they waged war. At first the Starks and Harringtons were the main parties, but not for long. After both sides got weakened, weaker families joined the fight for power, hoping to end the long reign of both the Starks and the Harringtons. If every single royal family would be autonomous there would be approximately hundred royal families, each with their own allies and enemies. That means it's no suprise the longer the war was waging, the more confusing it got. In the end the now four fighting parties came to an agreement and there was peace again. Honestly, it was more of a ceasefire. None of the fighting had been of any use: old borders were restored, leaving the Starks in the same position as before by making them able to freely expand their territory in the north. This made a second war inevitable, but at least for now there was peace. For the first time that I can remember I was allowed to go outside of the walls, where I happily explored the whole area till five kilometers around Seacliff. It was one of the best days of my life. I was six years old then.

That's how it was for ten years long. The trade was growing again, broken royal families restored and some even thrived. Still, it wasn't the same as before the war. Out of fear, many alliances were formed and some royal families even swore loyalty to others at the cost of their name. The Starks and Harringtons got stronger than ever before, but also smaller families nobody would ever hear from became very powerful. A good example is the Gladius family in the west, who played a big part in the next war; most likely my last. We, the Valennor family, try to stay 'neutral,' for we are a trade family and need to 'stay friends with anyone.' Still, even for us there is a clear enemy: the Starks. We're just not supposed to give it away. That would be suicide, because there is nothing between us and the Starks (which means they can reach us faster than anyone else) and picking sides will make us lose the status of neutral and make us players in this 'game.' We might be rich and pretty powerful, even we were terrified.

But then the strangest thing happened: a successful murder attempt on the Starks. The gladii were blamed immediately as they were in disagreement with the Starks, but nobody seemed to care. The north was weak and free for the taking. My father saw this both as a way to expand his territory and a chance to take revenge. A few days after he sent away his army to the north he heard that the Harringtons were marching north and planning on 'picking up' our castle on the way north. They knew how my father would react. My father's optimism towards the Harringtons cost him his castle. He traded all his money for adamant, one of the most valuable metals there is, and evacuated the castle to go after his army.

It took us a week to catch up with our army. After hearing what happened, or was about to happen, morale decreased and people lost hope for a solution. Going south wasn't an option, because the Harringtons would arrive earlier then we would, so we had to go north, east or west. The west is densely populated and very powerful and complex. They are warmongers, even against their own blood. The east would probably accept us and protect us from the Harringtons, but my father, guided by hate, wanted to go north. We could reach the ships a day later and we would stick with the old plan, which were the main reasons people agreed. The ones that didn't like it would still come because they were afraid of not having a home to return too.

As expected, we reached the ships a day later, but the weather was bad and it was strongly discouraged to set sail. Despite all the warnings, my father still commanded to raise the sails. That was the moment I could see he became someone else. He was focused on one cause and he forgot everyone around him, which scared me. Later on sea the storm got worse, as if it wanted to warn us this is enemy territory. Less than an hour later there was also dense fog. We slowly started to see less and less around us, and we had to focus on our direction to not lose the fleet. We did stay with the fleet, but not as we would've hoped. When our neighbours sailed right into us we knew survival meant everything now. I just came down the rope ladder(I'm not sure if this is the right word for it, please let me know) and I wanted to shout 'hold tight!' but it was already too late. The blow almost threw me off the ship, but I still had one hand holding the rope ladder. The blow had changed the direction of the ship and the wind now blew right into the sails. The crew that was somehow still standing was trying to lift the sail but it was too late; the mast broke. The mast to which the rope ladder was connected that I was holding. I knew I would die if I fell from this height so I tried jumping in the sea. This wasn't easy with the mast falling down and I came dangerously close to the deck. Also, the ship wasn't being held in one direction by the wind anymore so it was quickly turning as well. Right when I fell in the water the ship pushed itself above me, pulling me under water. When I got back up, I could barely see the ship I just jumped from. Other ships from the fleet still passed by but everywhere was chaos and in the eyes of the crewmembers, who probably haven't even seen me, I was just as unimportant as all the others who were 'safe' in the water. I floated alone in the water for hours while holding a piece of wood that broke off of the mast. It was cold. So cold, I couldn't veel my hands and my feet anymore. There was no sun to warm me up, everywhere I looked was water. I closed my eyes and I think I almost passed away, but then my knees felt something solid. Land. My knees were sure of it and I crawled further, using my last bit of strength to pull myself out of the water. I looked around and everywhere was snow. I knew I wasn't going to survive this. There was only cold. No time, no movement. Only cold. And then nothing.