Today on Drabble Wednesday we travel to lands rent asunder,
to kingdoms fallen…
After the War
The rivers still flow, past the ruins, past the end of our
world.
And we flow with them, on our small boat. On and on with the
current, a bobbing bit of nothing waiting to see what transpires. Waiting to
see if we become pawns or join the ranks of the dead.
We are the royal children, smuggled away in the night as the
kingdom fell, as the palace burned. We exchanged our silks and velvet for
coarse linen and wool, our beautiful home for a cramped and tiny boat.
But we are alive. There is a chance for vengeance.
~*~
Eternally Beneath the Moons
The ghost of queen always walks under the moons, when the
blue glow merges with pale silver. In each passing footstep the celestial
radiance weeps tears, following her eternal, spectral form as it keeps vigil. The
queen seeks peace, but finds only anguish in her death.
Around the old palace garden she strolls, calling the names
of her lost and vanished children, babes stolen from her arms and slaughtered
by invaders. They never answer, for they cannot. Tiny slashed throats no longer
speak.
Still, she searches, her voice an echo off the moons. She
calls endlessly, and forever, in vain.
~*~
Invasion
My tiny one whimpers, afraid but uncomprehending. I press my
lips to her ear and murmur, “Hush, my sweet. It will be over soon. Close your
eyes and Mama will make it better.”
My darling girl obeys, never realising. I raise my knife and
pierce her heart. She dies in my arms, and I kiss her cold cheek in farewell. I
hoped she understood. I did it to spare her.
She will not be taken as sacrifice to their awful gods.
They may control our kingdom, but they will not have royal
blood.
I raise the knife to my throat.
© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved
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