Meant to be
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Zuletzt aktualisiert Do., Aug. 15, 2024
A princess with no talent for nobility, had to survive a scarce life of challenges ever since her father went missing. Everything began on her 16th birthday. Her brother went to war whilst celebrating her birthday, and during that she realised her father was missing. Ever since then, she had to take responsibility as queen of their empire. Later on, she had heard rumours of the war her brother was in never existed. Since it had been years since it started. She had gone out to venture the battlefield. During that, she happens to meet a particular person.
"You..." Amonea stared intently
"Uhm.. could you please not do that?" He quiled quietly. His body was scratch up and beaten. She could see bruses on his body.
"Sorry. Your name?" She asked whilst smiling brightly.
"Oh! Uhm.. River." He cruves a smiles on each edge, as if trying to come out as 'friendly'
"I'm Amonea. Pleased to meet you." She held her hand out, but she then realised his hands were full so she casually shakes it off.
"Well then I'll be on my way, Amonea." He bowed and walked away. Something about him is familiar to Amonea, but she can't quite put her mind into it.
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The Before. There was a time before, a time of a great war, a time there were two kingdoms. War rampaged on the heels of jealousy bred by men's contemptuous hate and fueled by their desire to take what wasn't theirs. Two Kings fought wanting what the other had, holding the Bythe's fire at the tip of his knife The King of the South snuffed it out stealing with him the Jewel of the north. I am Bellary. I live with the tales of the before filling my dreams, and ringing in my ears, I am known as the Silent Princess of Loch. My voice was taken from me by force, an assassination failed. Left with the scars of my abusers to remind me and everyone daily. Haunted by nightmares, and faceless voices calling out to me I hide away in the walls of the castle, under the excuse that it's for my protection under the rule of my neurotic father and overprotective brother I have never tasted freedom. My father's constant fear that the men attacked me would be back to finish the job. I was insecure, maimed, and riddled with shame. The itch in my brain that I was missing something buzzed in my brain, there was a fire in my veins that called to be lit. With no words to speak I filled the void with the written word, I devoured the written word like a lioness hunting prey, and studying languages became my lover and I worshiped them passionately. Being a walking ghost among my kingdom, I heard words drifting on the wind, dripping from the walls and floating off of people like a permeating perfume. They were whispering warnings, the north was awakening, the north was angry, the north was coming. The north was seeking, the north was calling Ophelia home.
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