The Writer: War of the Horizons prologue

The Writer
Book I: War of the Horizons

         “Once upon a time, war was the dream of the people.” The voice carried around the room, sounding more beautiful than any song. Her tone was smooth but coated with wisdom that could only be gained from an experienced life. It was like a vibrant story written on old, worn parchment paper. “It was once an exciting game that citizens of all class took part of. Simple farm boys became heroes which epic poems are meant for. Soldiers were the bringers of gold and bread. And the kings' desires only brought about prosper.”

         The small child with golden freckles on her skin listened with silent awe. Her teacher's voice was mesmerizing and spoke of the past like a fairy-tale. It kept her rooted to her bed and her heart pounding against her chest. No history text could ever have a child like her react in such a fashion.

         “There were never losers in these War Games. Just winners who could hold up a trophy of victory until another dispute started it all over again. It was an endless spiral of perfection. Battles were seen as picnic opportunities where families could eat and be entertained. Just a short time ago, war brought excitement to mundane lives, business opportunities to those who were in need, and the chance of gaining heroic statues so one name would be known throughout all of Horizon. Just a short time ago, war wasn't just beautiful, it was exquisite.” She took a moment to let these words sink into the mind of her young pupil.

         A question lingered on the little-one's tongue, but she did not want to speak and ruin the magic that was surrounding her. Her teacher would explain. It was apart of the story, soon the answer will be known; how did something so beautiful become something so barbaric?

         Sensing the need to know, the adult continued, “The West Kingdom fell. After its collapse the balance everyone has become so use too began to crumble. There has always been four kingdoms with the Horizons. Always a North, East, South, and West.  Each land benefiting from one another and none holding more power than the rest. Now, there was a chance to become the leading kingdom and the remaining kings seized at the opportunity...and that is how the War of the Horizons began.” She pushed a strand of dark hair from her face, smokey eyes firm in their stare towards the girl. “You must understand this; the people of this land are weak. They have lost their spirit and sense of reality. War became something sinister after decades of being glorious. No one is sure what to do anymore. And the kings are of little help. They barricade themselves within their protected walls and never look for a way of peace or stability. That is what greed can do to people.”

         Greed was an evil word. It was the cause of unforgivable actions and broken homes. It was greed that brought this world to its hopeless state and it was greed that kept it that way. Through all the hundreds of stories she has been told, greed was always the villain within them.

         “This is why I teach you forgotten abilities. Why you are given new stories to ponder about every night. And why you must learn how to make them yourself. This was a history lesson and one you will need to keep with you throughout your life.” She then pushed the child back into the soft pillows, “Now the lesson has ended for the night Melanie. It is time for sleep. Remember, document your dreams when you awaken. This ability we have may very well put a stop to this idiotic war.” The candle at the nightstand was blown out. “Go on and sleep.”

         “Teagan,” the child called out softly, “Do you really think I can save it...everything? Just like the heros in all of your stories?”

         “I think you should shut your mouth and sleep. You are to get up at dawn.” Teagan covered her up and then left her side, going towards the door. She paused before turning to face Melanie, “This is your story. You are the Writer. The ending of it will be up to you.” And then closed the door, off to her own bed.

         Alone within the dark room, Melanie reached under her pillow, her ink stained thumb brushing at the pages of her journal, her thoughts in a whirlwind. “A hero...” She smiled, the taste of the word could make any six year old giddy. “I'm gonna be a hero.” She wiggled under the covers, hoping her dreams were filled of her future saving her world.