A Destined Freedom

A Destined Freedom

Thrust violently into the early morn of Thursdaye, I slippt from a perch in which I was hidden most prominently. The terrour that did purge thro' my self had my chest presst firm to the elm trunk like a babe to its Mother, and the pounding that sounded thro' my head slippt thro' that of mine ears to the aire. I inhale harshly to diminish it should ears espying come upon me. Tis most amusing that town folk dost think my self and those akin are Satan's doing, if they crosst thro' now, they ought to laugh at my bottom sate upon the crumbling soil and my mouth agape in terrour. Mayhap they will be most certain of my birth-crime, and without any such logick, may they set me alight and see me burned for no such evil than that of my beating heart.

Flesh of my head upon the Ulmus bark brings with it a calm, and such, in turn is bestowed upon my rapid chest so tis no sooner I release the Atinia tree of mine aching arms. The sunne breaks beneath my footing, flawed by wisps of tangled branches and shards of chopped limbs. Most certainly cut for witch hunts. I cross thro' Calluna bushes and tender streams, pricking my fingers upon edges of my verily tortured home. Tis town folk that aught be burned for evil. Their blades murdering that of our Mother's blessed nature, she aught bring merciless suffering for their wrong doings. Tis my kin that bestow her beauty, tis my kin that deserve life to build upon life.

Left of the Holker, I find mine eyes lay upon that of my home, tho' not much; tis the doing of God and his blessed ways that I might rest safely from pitchforks and fire. No minute is pardoned as I take shelter inside and lay my head upon that of my straw chamber; tho' tis a rare dusk I might slumber without fear. There is none such iller a confinement than thy self's bleak imaginings.

Once fallen unto my back, I gaze idly upon a trifling creature; dancing a silver thread unbeknown to what dangers might lie in its wake. Tis not the first instance my self hath envied that of a greener existence with single-mindedness and well-being. Tho' on the erstwhile palm, tis favoured to be feared than live a spitfire life such as them yonder the acre with fables for all acted barbarity.

My breath tis seized, a soul catcher unbeknownst to my self perches upon my breast with phantom cause. There upon, not far from my nose, burns a scorching arrow and in hatred born, casts flickers of spit. They hath discovered me. Hath I such naivety thro' mine experiences? If bathing in fire outcomes of this, none blame tis theirs but mine own. Foolish lass. Dost think thy self safe basked in compleat quiet? Should Mother be still in body, she would in certainty smack any such nonsense from my mind.

'You there, wench,' cries a gentleman's tongue, tho' lacking any such gentle a tone. 'Out with you!' Is there no place to go? Must God take no pity on my soul? 'If thou does not come forth, my guards will drag thee to my feet and I shan't feel merciful.' Surely if thou suspects my self of witchcraft, he will lack mercy in full? Mayhap he seeks my presence for a dissimilar reason.

'Tis safe?' I holler, unable to steady my voice.

'Yes,' my capturer declares. I take to my shaky feet and vacate the wood plated shelter my parents left in their deaths. Uncertain of mine expectations, I did not envision Prince Oscar handsomely saddled upon a stallion, nor the royal guard with polished blades extended.

'Speak your business, girl,' Prince Oscar says, piercing eyes upon my rags.

'Business, my Lord?' I ask, powerless to observe nought else but the knife-edges.

'Wherefore is thou hiding?' He demands knowledge. Tis so only one hope of living is to keep my magic hushed.

'I am not hiding, my Lord,' I lie, sparing but a glance to his royal robes. 'Tis my home.'

'Hath thou no fear? Dangerous creatures pass thro' these trees every-daye,' he preaches, 'dost not know this?'

'Forgive my tongue, my Lord but I hath not ever seen such a creature in my life.'

'Is thou calling me a liar?' He asks, venom encased.

'No, my Lord. Never, my Lord,' I stammer, lurching downward so that my knees be upon the floor. I desire courage to spit at his ankle but certainly then will he hath my head. Tis wise to be knowledgeable in circumstances such as this.

'Up with thee, girl,' he demands, 'wherefore is thou alone?' His inquisitiveness tis most unusual, tho' I daren't lie about what became of my beloved parents, tis in turn, partly the royals to blame, and as such, tis nought truer that all action hath consequence but tis not yet time for peril.

'My parents, my Lord, 'twas yeares ago they died.' My words waver not.

'Dost hath no place else? Tis hardly a handsome establishment for that of a young lady.' His nose does turn up at my home, and I find my lips at the mercy of my teeth. Dost he not care if he offends? Tis this boy who shall rule one daye, mayhap I ought to eradicate him now and spare us all.

'Tis fine for just me,' I tell him, he provides me with a distained look and then his eyes roam the forest around us.

'We are hunting a thief. Hath thou met any a stranger thro' this path?' Mayhap he ought hath kept a harsher grip on thine possession. Even if mine eyes had witnessed this thief, I would not betray a fellow outlaw. We all hath reasoning for actions within this wood.

'No, my Lord.'

'Is thou sure?' He inquires, wearing disbelief upon his features.

'Yes, my Lord.'

'Thou would not lie to me?' Tis not a lie, foolish halfwit. Dost assume all spoken is a lie? Tis no marvel his kingdom is beneath such tyranny. 'Because I can hath thou beheaded with the act of my wrist.' My chords are detained in a violent reserve; no words can return such a decree. He threatens as hastily as he no doubt swings. Tis he who is the monster. His brows rise. 'What say you?'

'Not ever might I imagine my self lying to you, my Lord. I swear it to be truth.' His indecision of my death lays upon my shoulders in the aire. Mayhap he only ever seeks blood. Mayhap he does not exit a day without another soul on his belt. A sigh escapes his wretched lips.

'Search the shack and we'll be on our way.' Mine eyes observe his slaves lower their blades and two huge men stalk towards me with menacing twisted mouths, thumping my shoulders as they pass. I do not turn to see them arrive at my home. We await their return in stillness, and I feel mine arms trickling sweat. They will discover nought; never hath I required tools nor books to practice magic. My Mother believed me powerful, more so than she ever envisioned and I shall receive vengeance for her untimely death but now I must be patient.
'There is nought here, my Lord,' a guard sounds.

'Yield immediately. We hath a thief to kill.' Prince Oscar growls. Tis no sooner his horse turns that another scorching arrow dashes my way and misses me but by an arm. 'Is thou senseless? Inside, wench,' Prince Oscar commands as his men come forth from my home with drawn swords. Arrows are arriving from all places, stabbing trees and clashing upon armour. I need not be told twice, I rush inside and place my head alongside my bed. God, show mercy. I hath not ever toiled against thines favour. Thou are my true Lord, do not end my life today. I heed grunts and shouts as needles remain to impale the earth about me but then in eeriness; it stops. A peculiar silence descends and propels shivers up my back as I position my self on my feet, and peer around my door. Guards laze on soil beds. Who has done this? Wherefore is Prince Oscar?

'Out with thee, my Lady,' a brusque man calls, thine bow drawn with an arrow equipped to finish me. Tis ironic I shall die upon the palms of a bandit I not long previously declared silence-bound to his whereabouts should I hath known. I find my feet with hesitance, maintaining his gaze.

'I hath done no injure,' I say. Tis nought I could hath done for any such person, to save; to harm. My hands are clean of blood. I do not merit death, there is so much I still hath to accomplish. No destiny would terminate here, not upon the same bleeding earth as the royals.

'I am aware,' he responds, lowering his weapon.

'Wherefore is the Prince?' I question, a leer sweeps his jaw and his gaze wonders up. I shadow his stare to perceive Prince Oscar swaying by his neck. My throat is filled with a cloth like substance as I clench my lids and turn away. Tis one thing to desire a death, tis another to stand beneath it.

'Thou is safe,' the man assures me. A sharp laugh cuts thro' my throat.

'Safe? Thou hath slaughtered the royal guard and the Prince on my doorstep! Who dost think they will accuse?'

'Not thou, certainly. Thou is to accompany me, young witch.'

'I- I am no w-'

'There is no use feigning, witch. I know what thou is. I hath seen what thou is capable of.'

'What are thou to do to me?'

'Nought.' He shrugs, placing thy bow crossways upon thy back and his arrows into his quiver. 'If thou wish to part ways then that is your decision but I can guarantee thee safe passage to Fendorium.' Fendorium? Could it be truth? Tis but a world away, a different ruler in a different land. I hath dreamed of travelling there since I was a babe but what would thou be going for?

'Thou is heading to Fendorium? Wherefore?' He rewards me a smile and his arms cross against his stomach.

'To see my wife and daughter, she is but a young witch like yourself.' Tis no wonder he does not harm me.

'Thou is from there?' Mayhap I can take lodgings in his company till I find a home for my self.

'Not originally but we hath made a good life there.' If he hath such a swell life in Fendorium, wherefore does he travel here? Tis far away indeed, and those in Fendorium hath little need of our supplies.

'Wherefore hath thou come?' Surely a possession of a Prince is not worth risking his soul over?

'To do what required being done. Deprived of an heir, King Peter will be at loss. He is too old to hath another noble girl bare a child and thus will be the end of the hatred he stirs.' Tis no folly in his succeeded plan but my self would never underestimate that of the King. It would not surprise me if they sate a bastard upon the throne. Still, he hath done a hard action that may condemn his soul to hell for the goodness of the kingdom's people. There are no words pure enough to thank him. Tho' I do wonder what reasoning he had for setting such a path.

'What hath they done to thou?'

'What they hath done to every one born of this realm. They imprisoned my self in an unforgivable life. For too long was I loyal to such hatred but no more. I want a world my daughter will be safe to grow in but we cannot hath peace with royals who readily slaughter before any such consideration.'

'I do not think they think at all, Sir.' I offer a gentle smile, if he is who he claims to be. He has saved my life and I am ever indebted to him.

'No. Not Sir,' he conveys, vaguely laced in anger. Tis most disgraceful I might insult the man who has done much kindness. 'My name is Rowan. What is your name, child?'

'Elspeth.'

'Tis most pleasant to make your acquaintance, Elspeth. If thou is coming, tis best to make haste. Tis a long journey to Fendorium.'

'I will never be able to thank thee enough,' I tell him, a guilt lays upon my chest; tis a burden to bare always.

'Thou is most welcome but now is not a time for such idles. The King will be soon searching for his precious son and we do not want to be here when tis underway.' I nod and offer another smile, then take my self inside to collect a few I hath. I cannot believe I am to journey to a land where magic does not cost life. Tis such a blessing to be free.