I remember it. I remember the day it all started and ended. All because of this young girl. She was no older than I was. The day was bright, sunny and warm. I was running in the meadow. The yellow grass so high it hit me on the knees. My mother and father was watching, how much I enjoyed the freedom.
The short time of freedom I had. Before I met hell. She was standing in front of me. Her eyes green, soft and big. Just like the nature that I love. Her hair long and brown, but the light made me see that she had tiny hints of blond in it. Just like my hair is. She was staring at me softly, friendly. I had never seen her before. She was not from my village. I would have known.
While she was stealing my attention. The sound of my father screaming in pain came behind me. I could see the arrow in his chest, right where his heart was beating. I watch his eyes roll back. Not long after, my mother came running towards me. There was nothing more I wanted, then to be in her arms at that time, but I was young and I was frozen in fear. I couldn’t move and it earned me the biggest punishment I could have ever gotten.
I lost both of my parents that day, but for others, they lost their king and queen. Only because of that girl, that was our diversion. When I turned back to look at her. She still stood there, looking at me the same way. As if nothing happened, as if she couldn’t feel anything. There was no regret, no nothing. I was seven years old at that time and I know she was too. I was crying in agony, while she was emotionless.
I ran back home, into my older brother’s arms and I could see the fire in his blue eyes. I could see that he was seeking vengeance. He tried so many times, but failed. Three years later, we were attacked again, but this was a war. My brother, the new king was not going to give in. He was a great speaker and he motivated men and women to fight for their home.
I watched them all bleed and listened to them all die. I was seven when my parents died and I was ten when my older brother died. Those who didn’t fight was running away, like my younger brother and I did. We found a new place to live, but it’s not our home. There were only four-thousand survivors when we left, but now eight years later our number has risen to five thousand, but most are children and weak humans. People who cannot take another battle, but I know it’s coming one day. We want our home back, which we lost to our foes. Which is now called South, which was our name, but we lost that, after we fled to East to our friends.
My people are impatient to take it back and I can feel with them. There is nothing I want more, then going back to what my family had built with glory and pride. Which died with them, but I am going to develop it again. They might have won the battle, but we are going to win the war. Because this is not over. It never was.
Time is what it will take and time is what we have to do now, because soon they will find us. We need to act simple and take one piece and not everything at once. If we act too big and too much, they will know, we are still fighting for what is ours. Our minds are full of freedom and freedom is what we will get in the end. No matter how much we have to scarify for it. Blood, lives and love will be lost.
We have lived with nothing for eight years, but we have adapted. We had to, just like our family had too after the huge war that ended for over hundred of years ago. When the whole world fell to pieces. There is nothing left, expect ruins that are now grown with nature. A nature that is all we have left and all that we know.
We can still see the ruins of the cities, buildings and sculptures, but most are underground. Some covered with desert and some in the woods, where we are living. There is nothing left, but that is what we are used to. For hundreds of years, humans has fought for land and survival. We still do and that is going to last forever.
“Princess Freya?” I turn around, still standing with my hands behind back. I watch my guardian, Eric. He has been loyal to me since the day we escaped the battle. His strength and tallness makes him the most feared men in our tribe.
He might look as he could kill you with his bare hands, but the loss of his family has turned his whole heart into sadness and to calmness. Fighting reminds him of the loss. That is why he only gives order and protect me, but if I tell him to join a mission, he would not hesitate to follow my wish. Eric was my father’s best friend and I know he promised him to take care of my brothers and me if he died. Which he has done well. My father would be proud of Eric, because I am.
“Yes, captain?” I answer him with respect, which cause him to bow.
“Your brother wish to talk to you.” Eric says, causing me to take a deep breath.
“Very well.” I nod and he walks out of my tent. My brother has begged me every day to do something, since I could remember. He is just like his older brother Gustav, who died with fury in his heart. Magnus wants a battle, something I can’t accept. Not now.
“Freya.” I hear my brother say breathless behind me, but I still find my way over to my throne. I sit down watching my little brother, who has the same blond hair as me, but mine is long and his is short and it looks very dirty today. All of him is dirty. His leather cloths and shoes. It causes suspicion to flow through my veins as I chew on my inner cheek.
“Magnus.” I just say, waiting for him to tell me what he wants, and I hope that is going to explain why it looks like he just took a mud bath.
“We need to act now!” He shouts. My eyes roll, like I always do when he open his mouth to talk.
“There is nothing we can do, not now.” I tell me him and trust me, I have said that many times before.
“We have to!” He yells and step forward, causing me to stand up with fury. We look into each other eyes. Our father’s blue eyes that we both have.
“Their leader died of illness just recently and their new ruler is ruthless.” He explains which cause me to breathe again.
“We saw them, Freya. They killed the innocent people in the West.” Magnus tells me and I lean my head back in sorrow and shock. The people in West have always been neutral. They lived in peace and didn’t do anyone any harm. We had a good deal with them. They made us our clothes and we gave them weapons to defend themselves with. Apparently, that was not enough. This changes everything.
“How do you know this?” I ask, gritting my teeth with hatred for the South that is killing everything and anyone, just for getting more land for themselves.
“I saw it.” He says watching me tensely.
“You did what?” I shout almost in his face.
“Magnus, you are only sixteen you are not supposed to go outside our walls and you know that!” I yell in anger, because he knows the age limit for walking outside alone is eighteen. We did that for safety for the children. There can be anyone in this forest and we made walls to protect ourselves, from humans and animals.
“I know, but I am so tired of you not doing anything and now we know what is happening out there!” He defends himself.
“I am doing something!” I argue, poking my finger on his collarbone. Feeling how wet and dirty he his clothes is.
“Doing what? Waiting to die?” He wonder and I can’t keep myself calm anymore as I push him back away from me.
“We are waiting for more warriors!” I explain him, but he just shakes his head.
“Well, we do not have time for that anymore. She is coming.” My brother tells me.
“She?” I wonder.
“Loki is coming.”