Hey guys! Sorry it's so late but I've put a lot of effort onto getting this up today so I really hope you enjoy!
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Progression
Ailia
As I walked up the flights of stairs in the block of flats, I couldn’t help but to reflect on the day. Jacob, my very impatient boss, had once again threatened to fire me for being late even after I explained my delay. Apparently because I wasn’t injured I had no excuse. Nice...
Not that work was that great anyway: till duty and shelf stacking in Jacob’s tobacco shop. Working there and witnessing people slowly killing themselves was enough to put me off smoking for life. At least I didn’t have to resort to having my knickers around my ankles while some lout reached for a place where he could be free.
Free. I snorted as I reached my level. Reaching my door, number fifteen, I pulled out my key and let myself in. That’s why everyone was either on the drink or drunks. I’ve seen people stumble about out of their minds with their heads in another place. Everyone wanted the same answer to the same question: What was it like to be free?
Slamming the door behind me I sank into the chair. Resting my feet up, I ran my fingers through my scalp.
When I was growing up I used to hear stories about what had happened to the world: about what it used to be like. It was kind of like a warped fairy tale that we used to be told before we went to sleep. People used to tell each other how there was once a family that used to own palaces and jewels. Apparently there used to be a few of them all around the world.
These families were rich and once very powerful until another force took control. Like these families they were all around the globe yet all they had in common was the same goal. They were known as ‘government’.
The families lost more and more power until they were there just for show. As the government grew some extremists started to make their voices heard and convinced the others to see things their way.
The government blinded the people with lies about the families and made them appear to be the enemy. They fought against the attacks but fell one by one as they were murdered. It was rumoured a few escaped but were assassinated to extinction.
The people cheered at the news of their deaths unaware of the danger of the corrupt power that now ruled them. The government became greedy and cruel causing suffering and pain. Unable to take anymore, the people plotted against them. After many years and a lot of sacrifice, our ancestors overthrew them. What was left was a war zone that many were unable to handle. Over two thirds of the world’s population died in the chaos.
Flocks of people turned to the next power they could think of: religion. The media was now its own forced and ensured all children were taught to read and write so that their empire would last and kept basic things such as water, electricity and food functioning.
Religion and the media were meant to be silent partners but everyone knew the truth. Without the media religion wouldn’t be able to spread its message and without religion the media would lose its influence over the lives of people.
People’s pent up rage caused them to be stern followers of their religion. They were like ticking time bombs ready to explode with any trigger whether it be race, gender, age, sexuality...
People were brainwashed into praying to heaven to escape this hell.
Thinking of the church caused me to think of the cemetery and the events of the morning on the way to work. Now that those who wanted to talk to Fermina knew was gone would he stay away? Or would he demand to know what happened and to go through her things?
The thought made her blood boil. I prayed that they wouldn’t dig up the past. Snorting, I picked myself up and walked over to the fridge to get a beer. No, I would not pray: I would not fall for that scam.
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Kain
The news of Fermina’s death was met with disappointment and misery. I told the council of the encounter with Ailia that morning and how I had followed her directions to discover that she spoke the truth. The grave had read, “Free at last”. The dates had been 12th April 2537- 17thy August 2554. She had been seventeen when she had died two years ago.
As I reported the date of her death, I saw the guilt filled faces of some of the council. We stood in the dining room of the manor, piles of family trees spread over the table. A large piece of paper took up most of the space covered in writing and spider diagrams.
The council looked over the large sheet as we tried to work out any other possible descendants.
“Russia, Italy and Japan are all accounted for,” Boda sighed. “As well as China, Nepal and Turkey. The only link we’re missing is Spain.” He lifted his head to look at me. “Is there any chance Fermina had a child before...?”
I shook my head. “She was seventeen when she dies so it’s highly unlikely and if she did I believe that the child would be in Ailia’s care.”
Calhoun frowned. “Ailia? She can’t look after herself- never mind a child.”
I shook my head, a wry smile on my face. “She never showed us she couldn’t look after herself, just that she has a weakness.”
Calhoun’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You sound as though you admire her.”
I shrugged. “I admire her determination.”
A gentle knocking came at the door. Boda was the one to respond. “Enter.”
A maid carrying a tea tray entered. Boda smiled gratefully. “Over here, please.” Parting some files, he left room by the large sheet. Carefully, she placed the tray down and returned his smile. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No, thank you.”
Nodding her head, she took a step away before her eyes swept over the sheet on the table. Confusion washed across her face. It seemed that I was the only one who noticed, as everyone else continued with their work not noticing her expression.
“What is it?” I asked her as lines creased her forehead.
A blush coloured her cheeks as the others noticed the conversation that was beginning. “It’s probably nothing...” She admitted.
“Go on...” Boda encouraged.
Uncertainly, she drifted back to the page. “It’s just that my mother was the midwife who delivered the Spanish princess’ daughter...” He voice began to trail off.
“Yes?”
The maid’s face saddened. “She had a stillborn.”
“I thought it was the British princess who had a stillborn.” Calhoun queried, unaffected by the maid’s grief.
She shook her head. “No, you’ve got it the wrong way around.” Hesitantly, her fingers followed the lines of the diagram. “The British princess is the one who ran away not the Spanish.”
Boda’s face was pale. “Thank you.”
The maid nodded again before scurrying out of the room. Boda placed his hands on the table and looked at each one of us carefully. “Then who is the last remaining descendant of the British royal family?”
OK, sorry for any silly mistakes- I did rush a bit at the end. Please let me know what you think! x
