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Runaway: word count: 539

Zeta’s lungs burned. She had been running for the past half-hour. Sweat glued her ash
brown hair to her neck; tears poured from her icy blue eyes down her flushed cheeks.
Blood flowed crimson from her bare feet. She stopped. She stood on the outskirts of
the Blyr forest. Fear ebbed away as she padded tentatively across the grass.
Bloodstained footprints trailed behind her. Her nostrils flared. She smelt water. No
sooner; she heard the trickle of a stream.
She reached the bank of the stream and placed her aching feet into the water, sighing
with relief.

“Excuse me.” A voice from behind startled her. She turned, to see a girl, around her
age, with dark skin and black hair.
“ Excuse me,” she repeated, “ but you’ve got your feet in our water.” Zeta lifted her
feet out, mumbling apologies as she did so. The girl watched as she struggled to her
feet. Zeta felt an arm steady her and she looked to the girl, confused.

“My name is Zeta.” She whispered, looking at her feet. The girl looked Zeta in the
eyes, “My name is Wyla,” she spoke confidently, and helped Zeta to walk. Walking,
Zeta found out, had become a painful, arduous task. She walked, uncomplaining, her
weight taken by Wyla. They stopped abruptly, Zeta shrieked in pain.

“We’ve got company…” Wyla yelled, and, waving her hand to a place where Zeta
could rest, started searching her camp. A boy appeared, with red hair, tanned skin, and
barely visible freckles over the bridge of his nose. Wyla’s scolding was delivered with
banshee like screaming. Zeta pulled her thoughts away from her feet, her attention
was captured, by Wyla’s reaction and the words she was spitting furiously at him.

“ You stupid boy…We could have been caught out! How would we get to Gora if you
got us captured? A slave girl, and a blacksmiths apprentice, travelling together, how
would that look? Quarn, how cou-“ she stopped, realising that Zeta was there,
listening to every word. She turned her eyes wild with fear. Zeta looked away, her

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ears burning, and muttered, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been listening…” she trailed
off

“ Where are you from, girl?” Wyla shot, her voice full of venom.
“Paramija,” replied Zeta carefully,
“That’s not far …Why are you in the Blyr?”
“ I’m running…away.”
“Why? And from whom?”
“I’m trying to escape my father.” Zeta stood and pulled down the back of her dress,
revealing purple scars. Wyla gasped, and Zeta continued, “ He almost killed me once.
I needed to escape. I left my brother so I could be free…”

Quarn spoke for the first time “ We’re headed for Gora! We’ll be walking. It’s 2
weeks from here. You’re in no state for walking, but I have a horse…If you want to
join us…” He left and started to fill the packs destined for the dappled grey horse,
looking hopefully over his shoulder.

Zeta sat in thought, contemplating her freedom. Quarn tapped her gently on the
shoulder. She looked up, and saw the excitement welling in his emerald green eyes,
“We’re leaving…Will you come with us?” Tears sprung, unwanted, into her eyes as
she looked down, and whispered “Yes.”

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Resentment: word count: 537

Zeta was uncomfortable on Quenn, the dapple grey, ill-tempered horse Zeta had
become well acquainted with. She had been forced to ride him across the mountains
of Doran.
Every bump jolted her, making the unbearable journey even worse. She could walk,
and this had become an often-debated topic with Quarn, her travelling companion.
Another jerk ricocheted through her body, she glared at Quarn.
“Can I walk? My feet are fine!” She showed her healed feet to Quarn, who ignored

her. Her feet were healed; scar tissue knitted neatly across them.

Zeta hated riding and so she stopped, carefully climbing down. She landed lightly, and

caught up to Quarn, who, sighing, picked her up.

Zeta hissed and scratched, but Quarn was twice her size, and won the battle easily.

Zeta screamed. A piercing wail that reverberated against their surroundings. Suddenly,

an array of weapons pointed in their direction, and a pompous looking man stepped

between them. Zeta recognised him. The man who stood before them was the head of

the Royal Guard. Yaeger.

“You must not hurt the Princess.” Zeta fainted.

She awoke to the rocking of Quenn’s trot, and unwillingly opened her eyes, shocked

to find she now sat, not on Quenn, but in a litter.

“Where are my friends?” Zeta demanded, “What have you done with them?”

Yaeger look at her, patronisingly, “They’re gone.”

Zeta looked at him, appalled, and changed her approach.

“As a princess…Can I demand things, make royal decrees, you know, princessy

stuff?” Yaeger nodded, “ Then my first decree as a princess is, bring them here.

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NOW!” Yaeger looked shocked, then recovered, and looked out the window, and

shouted to one of the foot soldiers “Bring the traitors to me!”

The soldier left, returning minutes later with Quarn and Wyla. Wyla’s stare was

hateful as she was shoved into the litter.

“Traitor” she spat at Zeta’s feet, the nearest guard grabbed her by the hair and slapped

her, mumbling “Show some respect!”

Zeta looked to Quarn and Wyla. “I promise, I didn’t know…”

“ Oh yeah, you didn’t know. Look at me, I’m Zeta, my father beats me, pfft, I doubt

it.” Wyla, furious, continued viscously, “ I left my brother, his name was Moron”

She looked to Quarn, as if she had made a joke, Quarn just looked at the floor.

“His name was Zoron, slave” It wasn’t Zeta who had spoken. It was Yaeger.

“Princess Zarian’s brother was named Zoron.”

Zeta looked stunned. “My name is Zeta and what do you mean was?”

Realisation dawned on her, and she shrieked, then started to cry. Quarn put his arm

around her shoulder to comfort her. A cackle slipped from Wyla’s lips. Tears of

laughter rolled down her cheeks as she clutched her sides. Zeta stopped crying and

looked at her, eyes full of contempt.

Zeta turned to her guards, and said, “Seize her”. The guards immediately grabbed

Wyla’s arms, and the laugh died in her throat. Zeta looked at her, pity bubbled to the

surface.

Wyla seized this chance to beg “Zeta, please…”

Zeta replied “ You laughed. A ten-year-old lost his life. And you laughed.”

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Her hardness returned as she faced her guards and shouted “Off with her head!”

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Royalty: word count: 540.

Zeta watched the landscape change, as she was carried across the rocky plains,
towards Gora, the capital city of Azariad. Quarn, one of her travelling companions,
was seated on her left. Zeta leaned over to whisper in his ear, placing her slender
fingers on his shoulder, he shook her off, and turned to Yaeger.

“How long until we’re there?” He kept his eyes on the desolate landscape beyond the
carriage.
“Only a few more hours, we’ve been travelling for a week, so it shouldn’t be far.”
Yaeger, the chief guard, replied calmly.
“Why am I princess, Yaeger? Well, I know why…and I know how…but how?” It was
a question that had been playing with Zeta’s head.

Yaeger took a deep breath, “Azarian tradition dictates that the first born child of the
royal family will be adopted by a ‘commoner’ family, so they can gain more of an
understanding of their people. On their 19th birthday they are informed of their noble
birth, and taken to Gora. However, in extenuating circumstances, like your own, they
are informed earlier.”

“So, they just gave me away? To people they’d never met before? My ‘father’ beat
me. Did he know I was royal? Did he know I was ‘special’?” she shook the tears out
of her eyes, now was not the time.

“No. Your mother knew, but after she went to war, and never returned, we didn’t want
to tell him. Princesses are worth high ransoms.”

Zeta closed the curtains and sighing, closed her eyes, and dozed off. The sound of
trumpets woke Zeta with a start, and, poking her head out of the window, saw the
parade of people lining the streets.

Queen Amira and King Fernyl stood at the end of the avenue, the wind causing
Amira’s snow white hair to billow behind her as she ran to greet her eldest daughter.

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Zeta stepped from the litter; the wind whipped her hair around her face, as she was
crushed in her mother’s embrace. She looked over Amira’s shoulder to her father.
Fernyl smiled softly, his deep brown eyes crinkled with joy, “ Welcome home, Zar,”
He said slowly, hungrily taking in her appearance. She saw six children behind her
father, all with the same icy blue eyes and ash brown curls that she had. This was
definitely her family.

The oldest of the children, a boy with her eyes and short cinder brown hair, came to
introduce himself.

“Zarian, I’m Kilob, your brother, twin brother actually,” Zeta’s mouth dropped open.
“I go by Zeta now…wait…how come you didn’t get given away?”
“You were born first, so you were given to Yaran and Yoyra,” he smiled softly, and
Zeta calmed down slightly.
“Oh, right,” Zeta’s family reunion was disturbed by Yaeger.

“Princess, what would you like done with the prisoner?”

“Let her go, Yaeger, today is too wonderful to have her die,” Yaeger signalled to the
guards and Wyla was thrown to the ground.
Zeta turned to Quarn and, on her tippy toes, whispered in his ear, “Take her far from
here, before I decided to separate her head from her shoulders,” Quarn looked at her,
stunned, and rushed to pick Wyla of the ground.
“And Quarn,” Zeta yelled after him, “Thank you!”

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