• She ran, ran away from the noise, the blood, ran to the only place she new was safe.

    "no..."
the only word that escaped as she threw herself at her fallen father's body.
    "NO!"

    "Whats the matter, little princess, Daddy not here to save you?"
    The attackers, her captors, roared their laughter through-out the throne room. 
They knew they had won. They new it, and so did she.

That knowledge, that everything she had know was gone, snapped something inside her. All her life she had known happiness, prosperity, and easiness. She pictured herself in the rose garden with her brother that very morning. He had pulled her hair, prompting one of many garden wide games of tag they had every day. Only this one had ended very suddenly. There was no loud noise one imagines goes hand in hand with attack, there was just laughter, then a soft twang, and an arrow silently sprouting from her brothers neck. Everything following was a blur, the maid screamed, then running, strange men, blood, hiding, found, more running. She remembers the bodies in the corridors, faces she remembered smiling now pale and lifeless. And one, her mothers face, stood out amongst all others.
    And here she was now, clutching at her fathers robes, remembering the life she had, the people she loved, wondering if any were still alive. And she had had enough! Carefully, keeping an eye on her tormentors, she moved her hand down her fathers arm, reaching for the blade she knew was still grasped in his hand. Removing her fathers fingers from the hilt and replacing them with her own, she stood up. The scraping of the blade across the polished stone floor echoed around the circular throne room as the attackers stared at her. Bracing herself, she lifted the blade and pointed it directly at the man sitting on her fathers throne.
    “Your right, Daddy's not here to save me, not anymore. But I am, and I can save myself!”
    A small speech, starting as little more than a whisper, and ending in a yell and she charged.

    That was 10 years ago.