Young Writers Society

Author's Notes: 1,448 words.

Cerin, dressed in her usual black-and-purple outfit, hid behind the dressing cabinet in her room, hoping that the lady with cataract eyes wouldn't notice her.

In the proud tradition of upholding the national colors, the entire room was coated in dark fineries. The thick bed, table and chair, canvas walls, and even the cabinet were black or some dark wood. Understandably, the place came across as bleak, only brightened by the shades of purple running through the rugs on the floor. The cataracts lady, dressed in blue robes, sat gracefully on the side of the black-blanketed bed, holding an open book in her pale hands. Her eyes scanned the space, focusing on every nook and cranny. "Come now," she said, patting the side of the bed. "You must have your lessons."

The young Queen of Claec, curled up in a ball and peering at the bed from behind a cabinet, scowled. She had no interest in learning. There was no point in it.

The eyes of the cataracts lady shot towards the cabinet. Cerin jerked back her head and arms suddenly, accidentally knocking into the wood with an elbow. "Come now, my princess," said cataracts lady, closing the book and standing up. "You must have your lessons."

Pushing herself back with her arms, Cerin inched towards the open tent flap. She sweated and frantically darted her eyes to where the cataracts lady walked. The topic had to be some petty thing about proper matters or history, Cerin reasoned. Just busywork until Alsather dealt with her like he had dealt with her parents.

"There's no point in hiding," cataracts lady said, grabbing the edge of the cabinet and peering around just in time to see Cerin squeeze through the other side and yank herself up.

Cerin didn’t respond. Turning around, she bolted into the campsite, swinging her arms madly as she barreled down the hill. Her ringlets flapped wildly as she hopped, slowed down by her shoes. Bringing a leg up, she pullled off an irritating high-heeled shoe. Flinging it aside, she repeated this with the other one. None of the onlookers batted an eye, but she could see well-armored soldiers casually closing off the open paths in front of her. She swore.

"Why do you keep trying?" shouted cataracts lady as Cerin took off in another direction. A knife whizzed past Cerin's head, causing a man behind her to scream in terror. "How many more times will you run away?"

"None!" shouted Cerin. And, if all went well, she wouldn’t have to escape again. It was impossible to outrun the cataracts lady, who must have had legs of steel. The place was too well-patrolled and search for her to hide anywhere. However, a few wagons had stationed themselves at the edge of camp, preparing for the long journey back to Claec. If she made her path convoluted enough, and the driver of one of the wagons she would not be using had accepted the bribe she'd quietly made the previous day, she figured she could clamber onto one of the others and escape in the chaos.

Another knife, accompanied by a shout. That cataracts lady hadn't already been imprisoned, Cerin knew, was a matter of contempt. As long as the victims were human, Alsather was content. That Cerin herself wasn't dead was hardly an accident, of course.

Breathing smoothly, she appeared to duck into an empty tent. Cerin crawled out the other side and sprinted again, keeping her head and body low. She didn't expect cataracts lady to be fooled; a knife embedding itself into the ground beside her proved as much. Cerin had already done something like this dozens of times. What mattered was convincing cataracts lady that this was predictable.

The wagons were in-sight now, horses at the ready. Cerin picked up speed, running as fast as her small legs would take her. Nobody, despite the steady stream of soldiers she passed, tried to stop her. Not even a word against her drifted through the air. Even the cataracts lady had gone silent, though she still fired a knife or two. Doubt crept into Cerin's heart, nestling among the veins and whispering unwelcome questions into her blood. It was her best plan, but was it good enough? It had to be, Cerin convinced herself. If not, she’d keep trying.

She threw herself into the first wagon that she saw. Rolling smoothly into it, she collapsed on the floor. The horses whinnied, spilling its cargo onto the ground as it dragged the wagon past the edge of camp. Cerin desperately dug her fingers into the wood as she rose. Clinging to a wall and coughing, waving away a massive cloud of dirt, Cerin watched as soldiers poured from the newly-made gap in the perimeter. They thrust their spears, but the wagon was too far away and moving too quickly.

As the wagon arced around, the sheer force pushed Cerin into the wall. Dodging the barrels and sack of flour that hurtled towards her, she kicked them out when she could, watching them crack and spill their contents onto the ground. Teeth rattling and body numbed, she still mustered the energy to push herself towards the open back. Cerin reminded herself once again that this had to work. She took a few deep breaths and stretched. Soldiers ducked out of the way when the wagon careened towards them, nearing the others. She could hear spears and arrows sticking into the wood behind her, giving her the motivation she needed to hurl herself from the back of the wagon and land on her two feet in front her target.

The frightened horses, tied to poles barely attached to the ground, frantically whinnied when she landed. She jumped away before they could crush her with their hooves. Dashing around the side, Cerin hoped that she was indistinguishable in the carnage and dust. The rest of the plan flashed in front of her head in the seconds before she enacted it. She would get into this one. She would hide among some of the barrels inside. When the wagon finally left, she would wait until it had made good distance from the camp. Then she would seize control from the driver, then ride off in whatever direction looked best. It had to work, it had to work, it had to -

"Come now," said the cataracts lady, standing inside of the wagon that Cerin had propped one foot on. Holding out a hand, the cataracts lady smiled gracefully. "That was a wonderful try."

Cerin's heart sank through her chest and into her legs. Wobbling, her grip on the wood weakened, and she stumbled back onto the ground. All around her came the soldiers. "You could have killed me!" Cerin said, spinning around in a frantic search for an escape route.

The cataracts lady shrugged. "I believed you were not stupid enough to be driving the first one." She pointed off in the distance. Cerin's eyes followed, and she gaped when she saw the plume of fire off towards the horizon, releasing a huge cloud of smoke into the air. "We had to set an example."

Taking a few steps back, Cerin collided into a couple of the soldiers. "And if it was me?" she said, voice shaking as she tried to squeeze between the immovable guards.

"Were," the cataracts lady corrected, stepping off the wagon noiselessly. "Perhaps we had best discuss your grammar."

"That doesn't answer the question!" Unable to move anything beyond her arm in the gap the soldiers made, Cerin ran towards another part of the circle, with similar results. “And either way is still correct!”

Grabbing Cerin on the shoulder, the seemingly frail cataracts lady wheeled her around with surprising force. "My liege would have lost a useful pawn, brat," said the cataracts lady, staring down Cerin. "These games bore him. You will be under much stricter surveillance past this point. Should you attempt to do something like this again, we will throw you into the prisons until Alsather should wish otherwise. And he is tired of wishing."

Cerin, the dream of freedom stripped from her and destroyed, stood limp. The hopes that she had clung onto lay rotted and meaningless before her. She was going to die some day, when Alsather would feel that nobody would accuse him of regicide. That was the only reason he kept her alive. He had told her as much. It was both her greatest fear and the only truth. Mind dead and heart broken, the most she could do was silently look at the flaming wagon and weep, shoulders shaking as the cataracts lady took her hand and walked her away.