Daughters of the Land

IX.| The Bletsian River

The cold travelled through her body as the river around absorbed her in. She was shivering; the water being only part of the reason.

Moments ago, she was standing upon the river bank above the soulless body, and now diverged in the Bletsian's water with no knowledge of what she was doing nor where she was heading. She was scared and anticipated the appearance of all the Emperor's men and women- if any, any moment. She had already merely escaped death twice today and there was no guarantee she would survive a third time; death was on her tail.

She continued to warily swim towards the left river passage, following the direction her mother had once disappeared into, already knowing of what awaited her.

The Bletsian river was infamous for many reasons. Divided by two paths; the left and right. The right path was always lit up beautifully with an enchanting glow among the water that passed by. Although the Bletsian provided a happy passage home for death floats, it was also equally used for its left path of misery.

The path of misery held many stories, secrets and questions. Old folklore had spread fear among Zicotos as many would say, the Bletsian river was a starting point to the unknown. Whether one took left or right, they were already dead and soon to be in a place with the dead. Ironic, that it would be named Bletsian, when nothing associated with it was blessed, although some could and would argue otherwise- the patriots being some of course.

The Bletsian's left river passage would merge into the dreaded Cwield sea, and there is where the failures floated until their bodies rotted away, sometimes before the birds could get to them.

The Cwield sea held many myths and of that came questions. Questions none knew the answer to, but assumptions did come easier than finding the truth. Hence, dragons and mythical creatures were too among the living, supposedly. The Dears had always condemned such fable, though once in a while they too emerged themselves in tales they had heard long before them.

It had come to a point however, where dragons nor magical creatures could feed the curiosity the people yearned for and they soon began questioning the legitimacy of the folktales. The tales became night time scares rather than factual events, which left space for conspiracies and the search for truth to begin, surrounding the Cwield sea and what really happened there.

The divided lands had only one common belief and that was the Cwield sea itself. Bodies piled up until they sunk, with no segregation in death, many heard the dead united and would one day return for vengeance on the people that betrayed them. Their friends and families; the people they loved most in this world, who did nothing when the Emperor's banished them into crow feast.

Once she had managed to lose sight of the body upon shore, her bodies temperature had dropped and she was in a panic. It was dark, only the river and her ragged breathing could be heard as she dragged her heavy body through. She had made it to the beginning of the river passage, when the sudden echoes of voices filled her background. Immediately, she swung her head back to identify the noise and came to a halt with fear.

Up on the shore, crowds of men in armour lined skillfully in place with shiny steel blades as they searched the sea with their eyes. Baron Fendorm was present and his commands bounced of the rocky walls that surrounded them.

"You find her, beat her and bring her to me!", he screamed across.

He gestured towards his right, and in unison the aligned moved forward and into the river with their wooden boats. The Baron stayed put and watched eagerly; hunger in his eyes, as the five heavily occupied boats made its way towards her home.

Home is what she wished for, yet little did they know, their captive was watching everything unfold from afar; eyes buried as far as possible in the cold, hoping the darkness would keep her veiled a little longer.