GOLDEN REBEL HEART

Chapter 10

I've published a new book called "Words Of My Heart." and it contains the poems that I've been writing recently, so if you're interested, please support me by voting and/or leaving a comment. It means a lot to me.

Anyway, here's a new chapter!

P.s Should I put a trigger warning everytime there's a little bit of violence?

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Pagan Min's power over the Golden Path seems to become smaller each day that passes. Outposts are conquered, less and less soldiers of the Royal Army walk around the street, and the long, almost infinite bridge that separates the rebels from the North advances forward like a slow train. Taylor spends March helping others; sometimes she hunts, sometimes she goes with other rebels to the conquered outposts to check that there are no counterattacks from the Royal Army. March is a month that passes fast, like the wind does to a tree's branches. Before she knows it, the American realizes that she's been here for over three months now. Taylor thinks it's cool; that they're so close to the North, and therefore, close to victory. But Karlie disagrees; she says that Taylor is still too naïve and too careless to properly understand. The South was the easy part, the leader had said, but the North was as difficult as it was to tame an enraged group of lions. The soldiers were different; more insensitive, stronger, smarter. The ones that they had to fight against in the South were nothing compared to them. And then, there were very few rebels in the North. Utkarsh was the only city that truly mattered; the only city where civilians weren't treated like animals, and the only city where the hope of freedom was still living inside their blood.

The negative aspects of the North had dimmed Taylor's excitement. Perhaps, she was hoping that this would have been easier, that this would have ended sooner rather than later. But war wasn't like that. Violence wasn't like that, and she had to understand that, even though truth tasted bittersweet.

April comes with pink flowers and the disappearance of the snow from the sides of the streets. Taylor's hair is longer, just a little bit past her shoulder blades, and her face seems older, matured, refined with signs of fatigue, exhaustion, but also victory, happiness, and hope. She likes to walk along the streets, far from Banapur, and where nature was the only thing surrounding her. The air was warmer, but the breeze still gave her chills whenever it grazed the exposed skin of her neck. The wound in her abdomen doesn't hurt anymore, but it's still tender to the touch.

The sun shines, and it's a beautiful day. Some clouds cover it from time to time, but she doesn't mind. There's a little content smile dancing in her lips, because walking in this pathway, surrounded by trees with pink flowers, and the green grass, and nothing more, she feels like everything is truly going to be okay. The thought of Karlie sometimes graces her mind, and it's bittersweet. Their relationship has gotten deeper after that talk, where the leader had opened up about her past and told her how ugly her old demons were. The taller woman is still tentative and hesitant around her, but they're friends. Good friends. When they fight side by side, they're a good, powerful team, and Taylor can only thank Karlie for that. And when they talk, sometimes at night, under the moonlight with nothing but peaceful silence and the beautiful nature surrounding them, the American feels like she's known her since forever. The little crush she had at the beginning of January has now developed, but for the sake of everyone and for their friendship, Taylor keeps it to herself. She doesn't want to ruin something that makes her feel so good and so carefree. She doesn't want to ruin something that is golden under the sun's light, and most important, she doesn't want to lose Karlie or make the dynamic between them awkward or weird. She's the first nice thing that has happened to her in years, and between all those lies and blood and violence, she feels the need to protect their friendship, as if it's something too delicate for the world to see and interact with.