Prologue
Nestled within a small, partly dilapidated edifice, a classroom bustled with ten-year-old children. The classroom, a microcosm of their impoverished village, one amongst many encircling the capital, was steeped in the harsh reality of their existence. At the helm was their instructor, a middle-aged man with sandy brown hair, a thin moustache, and warm brown eyes, energetically expounding upon the exceptional reign of the land’s emperor.
At the room’s rear, a quartet of children exchanged disbelieving glances and murmurs, their dissent towards the emperor undeniably palpable.
“Emperor Darius is a powerful sovereign. He has…” The instructor’s monologue bore on, praising the emperor’s astuteness and the salvations he had brought their land.
“What a heap of nonsense,” retorted one of the children, a raven-haired girl with obsidian eyes named Adara.
Astride Adara, another girl, Astrid, with ash brown hair and arresting hazel eyes, hissed urgently, “Not so loud, Adara!”
Adara rolled her eyes, returning a hushed retort, “I’m just speaking the truth, Astrid.”
Kenji, a boy with sable hair and matching eyes, then interjected, “Hold on, the highlight is coming up.”
“A highlight, Kenji? There’s no such thing. It’s all deceptive sweet talk,” Astrid responded, a sigh punctuating her exasperation.
Kenji’s lips twitched into a smirk before nudging her to pay heed to the teacher’s upcoming sentence.
“Here in the South-West Village, we are incredibly fortunate to have…” The teacher’s voice trailed off, captured only by the half-interested ears of his students.
Another boy, a carbon copy of Adara with jet-black hair, dark eyes that seemed almost black, and a shared, sun-kissed complexion, chimed in. “This part... This part illustrates their utter disregard. They didn’t even bother assigning us proper village names.”
Kenji shot the boy a knowing look, acknowledging, “Exactly, Storm. That’s why I claimed we’re approaching the ’highlight.′ A testament to the kind of rulers we’re under.”
The teacher paused his monologue, peering up from the dog-eared book in his hand, only to be met by a sea of sceptical and questioning expressions. He removed his spectacles, massaging his tired eyes, and released a heavy sigh. “I know, I understand what many of you are thinking.”
A voice piped up from the classroom’s front, “Right. We’re wondering why you’re persisting with this when we all know the reality.”
Another child chimed in with palpable frustration, “The reality that our lives are nothing more than chess pieces for those wealthy tyrants, sacrificed to secure their luxurious lives!”
The teacher raised his hand to prevent further interruptions. “I’m aware. It’s regrettable. We’re compelled to instruct you this way because in three years, you’ll all head to the capital for mandatory training. Speaking ill of the emperor could brand you as traitors. I implore you, retain these opinions within these walls alone.”
Hearing the instructor’s plea, the students collectively murmured their understanding, vowing to keep their grievances to themselves when in the capital. Acknowledging their compliance, the teacher proceeded, “We’ll conclude this chapter before moving to the practice yard. Your archery and sword skills need sharpening.”
Adara and Storm exchanged anticipatory grins at the prospect of an afternoon filled with training. Astrid threw a playful smirk their way. “I swear, you two will be equipped to decimate an entire army before you reach fifteen.”
At her words, an almost sinister grin crept onto the faces of Adara and Storm. “Toppling the monarchy doesn’t sound too bad,” Storm ventured.
Adara nodded in agreement, her gaze shifting to Kenji and Astrid, whose complexions visibly paled. Grabbing their shoulders, Kenji whispered in disbelief, “You can’t possibly be serious?”
Astrid swiftly intervened, “You’ll meet your death! Don’t even contemplate such a notion! We’ll figure out a better way to effect change.”
Adara feigned annoyance, retorting, “You two always have to play the realists.”
“Indeed! Someone has to be the voice of reason! I swear, between the two of you, there’s only half a brain to share!” Kenji shot back.
Astrid then teased, “Had I not known you were cousins, I would have assumed your brains were halved in the womb!”
Storm merely looked exasperated, “Are you two finished? We clearly won’t act on such an idea. However, it’s not an entirely flawed idea.”
Kenji and Astrid collectively sighed, “We’ve got a challenge ahead of us with these two. How thrilling.”
Adara retorted, her tone laced with mock anger, “Your sarcasm is unwelcome. For your remarks, prepare for a trouncing on the field later!”
---
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the four friends bid their goodbyes. “See you tomorrow!” Astrid hollered, her voice trailing after them.
Kenji echoed her farewell before darting in the direction of his home. Adara and Storm took a leisurely pace, neither particularly keen on returning to their gloomy abode.
Storm’s father had perished in battle while his mother had been pregnant with him. The devastating news had triggered a premature labour, which claimed her life.
Meanwhile, Adara’s mother, an identical twin to Storm’s mother, was also pregnant and grappling with her PTSD-stricken, depressive husband who had returned from the war just before Storm’s father had been deployed. He bore physical scars from the war, missing a leg and an eye, and was mentally unable to assist his wife in raising the new-borns.
Adara’s father made attempts to aid his wife despite his mental and physical difficulties, but their persistent exhaustion cast a shadow over Adara and Storm’s upbringing. Their unintentional emotional withdrawal inadvertently made the children feel like burdens. Adara’s mother toiled from dawn to dusk in the fields, returning home exhausted. Adara’s father, confined to the house, constantly felt he was a burden to his wife and that if he could contribute, their lives might have been slightly more comfortable.
In contrast, Kenji and Astrid lived starkly different lives in their respective households, filled with familial warmth and open expressions of love and appreciation. Their homes echoed with laughter and happiness, a stark contrast to the perpetual storm cloud hovering over the cousins’ dwelling.
© Crimson B
This story is on Inkitt and Tapas only.
