Prologue
Bo mbs were bursting all around. The crackle of explosions and whiz of shrapnel
polluted the air.
“Lydia! We must Go!”
She could only hear her husbands voice amidst the gloom of heavy smoke. “I can’t see you!”
Stephen held out his hand, sweeping around the thick darkness but did not feel her.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Lydia cried.
Stephen followed her voice— his eyes squinted. They were both coughing heavily.
He took her hand and led her out. When they got outside the artillery strikes had moved further east, east to Maybol, a port town on Tartar’s east coast— the largest port town on the continent of Kyre. Words would only get in the way of describing the rubble, the destruction and the death that was now their surroundings, for the air was still and the town that was once so lively was now drenched in the stench of war. A veil of smoke covered the sky in patches. From the ground, all one could see is a warm pink sky painted with smoke. It looked as if the sky and the Earth were burning in tandem. “Do you think the whole town’s this way?”
“I don’t know honey, it looks that way. Come, we must move.”
The screams and the cries for help were deafening as much as they were loud and heartbreaking.
“War does nothing good.” Stephen uttered as he and Lydia walked to find a safe
place. Just then, he saw his buddy John crying, prying through rubble, shoving it aside as if he were looking for something.
Stephen ran up, “John! John! What’s wrong?”
“Oh Stephen,” John said, “it’s Carrie! She’s stuck under the rubble!”
Stephen turned to his wife, “Lydia, you stay here,” he put a hand on her belly, “I’m gonna help John try and dig her out.”
Stephen took off his shirt so as to wipe the blood from his face, handed his shirt to Lydia and joined John in the struggle. Ten minutes passed…. Another ten…
Both John and Stephen’s hands were bloody from moving and tossing jagged
rocks aside but they didn’t let up— the rocks kept flying. Those rocks being tossed aside became like artwork drenched in their blood their sweat and John’s tears.
Lydia stood some 15ft away when Stephen came walking toward her slow and
downtrodden, looking dead smack at the ground. Behind him she could see a broken
man. A broken man who used to be John. That broken man was beating the rocks with
his fist, now broken knuckles and bone. John was bawling, but the broken man was
laughing hysterically.
“Stephen what happened?”
“We found her,” he exhaled. “c’mon, lets go.”
The smell of smoke lingered as the sky began to show the sunset. By now,
hundreds of refugees were now filing out of the city. Some without a scar, some wounded, some carrying the bodies of their loved ones, nonetheless every single one of them were plagued by the recent events.
“Where will we go?” Lydia asked Stephen.
He looked around at all the other people of Wodz, all heading toward the same direction.
“The Kingdom,” he said.
The next few days were tough for those heading to The Kingdom because the walk would take some days. There were no motor vehicles— they’d all been taken by President Stone and his army. After President Stone ordered the bombing of Wodz, he leveled all of what was left of the cities in Tartar(only Maybol was left). The refugees were heading NorthWest to ‘The Kingdom,’ a stronghold inside the border of Vale that is opposed to President Stone and those under ‘Raykoism’.
It was sun up on the second day and the birds were outside chirping along with
the morning dew. The terrain from Wodz to The Kingdom was mountain terrain with rocks littering the ground. On all four sides at any given time, all one could see was peaks and valleys, gorges and more peaks of mountains as the sky seemed there only as a reminder to keep pushing forth. The dirt and rocks made a crunch every-time one stepped, and the pass was so narrow only three people could fit side by side. They would camp set up camp every night. The men would search for food while the women boiled whatever water was found, usually from a small puddles filled with misquotes. “Stephen, how much longer we got?” Lydia asked.
“Were about two days in so i’d say we got another two.” “Oh hun, I don’t know if I can make it…” “Sure you can, I’ll make sure you do.”
“I’m not talking about that!” she exclaimed.
“Then—?” Stephen looked at her confused.
“For Gods Sake Stephen! The Baby!” She fell to the ground as she tried to grab hold of him.
“Do you feel it coming?” he helped her sit up.
“I think i’m going into labor,” just then Lydia let out an eerie cry that got
everyones attention. Sweat was pouring down her face. Some of the other women took her by the hand and blotched her face with wet towels while putting pillows behind her back on a mat they laid her on-top of.
A woman who acted as the nurse said, “Ok, i’m gonna need you to push for me.” Lydia let out a shriek, her eyes clinched and her muscles tensed. After some time
the woman massaged the head of the baby out. Lydia squeezed Stephens hand tight. He didn’t look down at the life emerging from his wife because whatever little food he had in his stomach he would’ve liked to keep there.
As soon as the head was free it was time for the shoulders. After the shoulders,
the rest of the infant seemed slipped right out. Next, the woman clipped the umbilical cord from the navel. She then tugged at skinny line of flesh, fishing it from inside of Lydia. The mat Lydia lay on was now drenched in blood as the placenta came out and the baby was washed off and given to Lydia.
“One last thing,” the woman nurse said, “your body is weak and you’re going to be needing a lot of nutrients. Food is scarce so, as horrid as it sounds, i’d suggest you eating your placenta.”
“Wait-wait-wait, what?” Stephen chimed in. “You expect her to eat that bloody hunk of flesh?”
“Many mammals do,” the woman nurse suggested with a smile, “except of course, camels.”
“Camels?” Stephen said smugly.
“Honey, stop,” Lydia said putting a hand on his arm. She then nodded to the woman nurse, “I’ll do it.”
It was suggested she rinse the placenta off, cut it open and eat the insides but she strongly advised against chewing.
“Just swallow,” the woman nurse said, “or you may become overwhelmed by the metal smell.”
The whole birth process took about 5 hours. And in those 5 hours, Lydia Aldridge had given birth to baby boy. A baby boy they named Troy Aldridge.
“No middle name?” Stephen asked Lydia as he held young Troy, “My, just look at what a good thing has been birthed despite our terrible situation.”
The last two days were by far the toughest. In total there were one-hundred and
eight refugees now. There were one-hundred and fifty-seven but 7 died of injury the first day, 13 died the second day died from injury and dehydration although 1 was born, and then 20 died the third day. All this, before arriving at The Kingdoms gates.
The refugees from Wodz arrived at the front of ‘The Kingdoms’ gate at dawn the fifth morning, 2 days after Troy was born.
Stephen held up his hand to a guard stationed at the post. A trumpet sounded
and a guard op came down and after some talk, The Kingdoms massive gate opened……
All of Tartar was war torn. Tartar is the most Eastern territory of the continent which has 4 countries. Vale being north, Fleece due west and Crackow south. They all bordered each other except for Tartar and Fleece which were separated by Crackow and
Vale. THIS, IS THE CONTINENT OF KYRE…
