Your Weight in Gold
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- Parts 7
I felt the sharp tip of the soldier's blade touch my skin like a deadly kiss of steel and couldn't help but feel relieved. "Thank God," I thought, "He didn't push it far enough." I opened my eyes and stared up at the sky. The cold, unwavering storm clouds thundered as if to draw me away from the battle. In the rain, my head felt like it was floating above my body, my consciousness staring down at a corpse that wasn't me. I moved my eyes downward and saw the hilt of a sword covered in jewels and gold. My shaking hands (Oh, why did they have to shake?) gripped the cool metal and traced it to its target. There it was. The blade passed through my body and poked out the other side quite comically. "Ha,"I laughed, before everything went black.
Your Weight in Gold is written from the perspective of a teenage girl, so many themes and events are seen through her eyes and might be altered.
This story's prologue is loosely inspired by the works of manga artist and writer Kusanagi Mizuho, as well as the current anime/manga Rising of the Shield Hero. I will be using a couple of themes from these great works, but only for the first few chapters.
Trigger/Content Warnings: Violence (Graphic and non graphic), Death, Sexuality, War, Self harm, Suicide
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I woke up in a daze, unsure of why my body felt so stiff, so sore. I winced as I threw my legs over the side of the bed, and again as I stood up, pain flaring from every muscle in my body as I made my way to the polished mirror beside my wardrobe. I gasped at the sight of the bruised and battered girl in front of me. The memories from last night flooded my mind. It was my birthday. Father had invited several high class guests to the event. He expected me to begin courting. The man he had introduced me to was a plump old man. I had refused adamantly, his years against my fourteen churned my stomach. Unfortunately, my father didn't take my refusal well. He grabbed me by the arm roughly and dragged me into the attic-my bedroom. His beatings were getting worse. At least the last time i t hadn't taken much effort to hide the pain. This time that wouldn't be possible. This time, there would be no hiding it. This time the pain was too much. I whimpered as I headed to the door, but it was locked. It seems my father had predicted my state. Rage and anger burned through my veins as I slammed my fist against the door. One day I would learn to defend myself. One day I would escape this wretched castle. One day I would no longer be bound by the Caspian people. One day I will no longer be their princess. "I will get away from here, and you will pay for what you've done old man." I vowed before slamming my fist against the door again. "I will be free." I huffed as I crawled back into the bed for some much needed rest.
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