Jolanda Zweers

Jarenlang ben ik al bezig geweest met mijn allergrootste project: mijn eigen fantasy boek! Het is nog lang niet klaar (ik ben te perfectionistisch), maar al wel kan ik een stukje delen. Het volgende fragment is hoofdstuk 3 (wat waarschijnlijk het 1e hoofdstuk wordt? Of misschien niet? Zoals ik al zei: het is nog lang niet af).

Belangrijke opmerking: doe de vertaling uit (of switch naar Dutch) om de tekst goed te kunnen lezen, de automatische vertaling verandert bepaalde Engelse woorden naar wat anders.

Een kleine samenvatting van het verhaal:

Sophia Chloros is a young woman, living in the countryside of Provotomia and working with her best friend Mellie to support her family’s farm. The war between her country and the scary Fidian seems far away, until Sophia gets drafted. Leaving her familiar home behind, she has to train for war, and gets deployed within the castle of the Fidian Royal Family. She gets to know the local residents, gets close with the princess Callista, and discovers there is more complexity to them than she assumed. After discovering the real reason why the war started, she questions all she knows. Will loyalties change? Can love and friendship thrive during war? Or will she die before figuring out these questions?

Tot nu toe heeft het 25 hoofdstukken en meer dan 44.000 woorden, en dat is nog van draft 1. Op het moment ben ik bezig met het editen en herschrijven. De titel? Uhh.. daar ben ik nog niet helemaal zeker over, maar op het moment is de werktitel: Tainted Wishes.

Deze post is om inspiratie te geven aan iedereen die hun droom willen najagen, en een reminder voor mezelf om dat ook echt te doen.

Chapter 3

What is happening right now? 

I wait for the guard to correct himself, because this surely has to be a mistake. I look at my parents, their hands now slowly untangling while they share the same confused frown on their face, as if they thought just like me that the guard had misspoken.

The guard continues talking, but he is not correcting himself. He is not apologising that he accidentally said the wrong name. His greyish-blue eyes keep looking towards me. Addressing me, not my dad. 

“…Do you understand, Sophia Chloros?” the guard asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

No, I don’t. I do not understand anything that is going on right now. But my voice is failing me as I open my mouth to voice my confusion.

“It is normal if you are shocked right now,” the guard continues with a more calm voice, “but we do have orders to transport you immediately. You have one minute to say goodbye to your family and then we will have to go.”

I keep staring at the guard, still not getting what is going on. Did they just randomly draw a name and this time mine was on it? Why did they pick me and not my dad, who is so much more fit to fight? He is probably way too old, and I am the perfect age.

A hand wraps around my shoulder and I look at my mom standing next to me with tears in her eyes and a hint of a smile on her face. Before I can question why she is smiling, she wraps me up in a bear-like hug, smothering me like only a mother can. Or at least, this is how I always thought it should be. I can’t remember when the last time was when my mom showed me such affection. Does she think I volunteered?

Over her shoulder, I see my dad who is still standing behind the now empty chair, lost in thought and staring confused at the guard. Probably having the same thoughts as to why it was not his name that was called. Not even acknowledging me and the fact that I am the one who now has to put their life on the line.

Suddenly, my mom releases me with urgency in her eyes. “The kids,” she says, “You need to say goodbye to them.”

Without missing another second, she hurries out of the living room, leaving me and my dad awkwardly looking at each other.

I really hope he does not hug me like mom did. I really do not need him to fake any decency just because there are guards in the room watching us. It’s not like he had any fatherly love for me before, why even start now.

“I- uhm…” my dad begins to speak nervously, but before he can finish whatever he wanted to say, the door bursts open as Dion and Dorothea run into the room before slamming into my legs with their hugs.

I crouch down and put my arms around them as they both cry against my shoulders. 

“You can’t leave, Soph!” Dorothea’s muffled wails sound from my right shoulder, making my eyes start to tear up by the  pure desperation in her voice. “Please stay!” Dion cries with equal sadness. “Fidians are the scariest people ever!”

Of course Dion is scared for me. The stories we tell about the Fidians are horrific, to scare the children into behaving well. They must be horrible, but that is why we are at war with them. 

I grab them tightly, allowing myself to crush them for a few seconds as I wipe away a runaway tear before letting them go.

“I really need you guys to listen to me, okay?” I say as I urgently look into their eyes, trying to contain the shakiness in my voice. “Take care of each other, always try to be kind, and lastly…” I add with a wavering smile, “the field is for working, not playing, okay?”

The twins nod their tear stricken faces as I feel a large hand upon my shoulder. I look up to see the blonde guard towering above me with a guilty expression on his face. He probably has witnessed many others saying tearful goodbyes to their families before sending them off to wherever for who knows how long until they could return home. If they even did.

“I’m sorry but it is time to go.” he says as he puts out his other gloved hand to help me up, his golden hair catching the sunlight for just a moment.

“No!” I blurt out as I ignore his hand and stand up. “I need to see one more person, please!”

“I’m sorry but that is not possible,” the guard says, his strict voice back again, “We need to go right now.”

“Please!” I beg him, “She’s my neighbour, it will only take one more minute, please!”

“Orders are orders,” he says as he signals to the other two guards, “We’re leaving right now.”

No no no, I can’t leave without saying goodbye to Mellie. What if I never see her again? There is still so much I want to tell her, so much I want to do with her. To just see her gorgeous eyes, her glowing smile and hear her melodic voice just once again.

The other guards grab me by my arms and drag me towards the front door while I kick and scream against them, faintly hearing my mom yelling out something I can’t make out. I look towards her and see my family standing together with tears on everyone’s faces just before the door shuts in mine.

I have been sitting so long on this uncomfortable wooden bench that my behind has become numb. My wrists hurt from the tied rope scratching my skin, which they put on me as a precaution because of my violent resistance. Just like they put me below the deck of this ship and put some fabric over my eyes so I don’t see where we’re going. Or more importantly, so I don’t see the way back home. I know another guard is keeping watch in silence.

It has been hours since I got taken away. Hours since I last saw my family standing together in that picture perfect position, as if it was always meant to be that way; the family without me.

It has been even more hours since I last saw Mellie… I hope my parents filled her in so she won’t be worried that I disappeared so suddenly. Of course she still would be worried if she heard I have to fight in the war against Fidian when for our entire friendship she has seen me struggling with any form of physical labour. 

Oh no, I am going to be the most useless person on the battlefields. I can already imagine the message they are going to give to my parents. I’m sorry but your daughter died after she tripped and fell on someone’s sword.

No, I want to come home alive, preferably in one piece. But that does mean I have to survive whatever I have to do these upcoming weeks or months or even years. I truly hope the war will be over before it will take decades.

This war I only heard snippets about from my dad whenever he complained that he had to give away some goods for free to Provotomian soldiers. The cost of war is great, but the rewards will be worth it, they say. Or when my mom tells these stories to Don and Dorothea about the dark land of Fidian and how there are only evil witches who live there who curse children when they stay up past their bedtime. The townsfolk never openly talked about the war itself, only to grumble about those stupid Fidians who should just surrender and admit that our way of life is better.

I guess that is why we are fighting this war, to show them we are better, whatever that may mean.

After a long time of sitting with my thoughts, I am finally being led off the ship, guided by the guard who kept watch over me. Even though someone took the rope off my sore wrists, they kept the piece of fabric over my eyes.

“Don’t worry,” a familiar stern yet comforting voice sounds from the guard. “Once we’re inside we can take your blindfold off.”

I keep quiet and walk along, trying to figure out any hints as to where I am. The amount of time I spent on the ship that I just came off from must mean we are bordering a large body of water. It could be the lake in the north, but that would take days to even reach on foot. No, these breezes against my face are a bit salty, that water was the ocean. I am at one of the many Provotomian islands, and not one of the closer ones since it took hours to get me here.

Loud scraping snaps me out of my thoughts. This must be the gate opening, meaning I can finally take off my blindfold in a few seconds. I walk forward and just as I suspected, the piece of fabric in front of my eyes is taken off as I hear the closing of the gates behind me.

I blink a few times, but not because of any blinding sunlight. There are no windows at all, only lanterns giving off a warm hue hanging from the high ceiling and the dark blue walls. Few people in grey clothing come and go from different hallways, barely giving me a glance.

The blonde guard that took me away from my home is here besides me, that is the voice I recognised. Even in the dimmed lights his golden skin looks as if it is glowing. Probably from travelling all the time to kidnap innocent people like me, it is not like people can work on their tan here.

“That hallway on the right goes to the sleeping rooms,” he says, pointing towards the arched doorway where most people are walking through. “The rooms are divided in alphabetical order of your last name, just follow the signs. You get a welcoming tour of the rest of the place tomorrow, but for now it is better to catch some sleep since breakfast starts early. You will know it is time when the lights go brighter. Normally I would help you to find your room, but there are preparations to be made for the new recruits, so you have to find it by yourself. Goodnight.”

He then walks away, leaving me alone bewildered. I make my way towards the hallway he pointed to, hoping I can find my way in this unfamiliar building.

Luckily, the blonde guard was right about the signs, and after going through a maze that split the letters up by each intersection, I found a door with my name already on it. 

However, it seems that I am not the only one sleeping in the room, but also someone named Eirini Christodoulopoulos. It took me several attempts to get the pronunciation right, but my clumsy attempts only made us laugh. 

Me and Eirini are sitting on our separate beds in our tiny rectangular sleeping room, wearing the grey sleepwear that consists of a simple shirt and shorts. The space is just big enough to fit our beds and a dresser for our clothes. Only one nightstand stands in between our beds with a lantern on top of it. Now that I am able to see a lamp up close, I immediately noticed that the light did not come from a fire, but from little buzzing flies. Eirini said those animals are common near the sea and that these lamps hang everywhere in this building. It caused less fire-related accidents, so it was easier for maintenance than candles.

We both cannot sleep so we decided to get to know each other a bit more. Apparently, she is 24 years old like me, has 6 sisters, and her village believes that her fully white hair, skin, and eyes are a gift of some ancient gods.

I bristle at the mention of the old gods. That is a forbidden topic, which no one should speak of unless they want to get severely punished. Eirini only smiles at my reaction.

“I know I can trust you,” she says, “that is why I mention them. Do not worry, I have not spoken with anyone else about them, I am not that stupid.”

“But how do you know I will not tell others about what you speak about?” I ask, confused at her logic.

Eirini shrugs. “I just know. A gut feeling, if that makes more sense to you. That feeling has never been wrong before.”

I accept her explanation, yet remain sceptical. Still, I am curious about the village she came from.

“They secretly still give offerings to the ancient gods every year to thank them for all the gifts of life,” Eirini explains, “We were just in the middle of one when they took me away…”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” I say, noting how her melodic voice grew sadder, “So you also did not volunteer?”

“No, I would never,” she shakes her head, “When I was little, I was scared of everything. I would even cry when someone looked at me in the wrong way. Thank Fóvos it is not that bad anymore, but I am still no brave woman…”

“Who is Fóvos ?” I ask out of curiosity. “Is that the ancient god you mentioned?”

“He is one of them, yes,” she replied excitedly, “There is a whole family line of gods my village worships.”

“Oh, okay.” Not sure how much I believe in the actual existence of these gods, but to each their own. “And which god’s fault is it that we’re here?”

Eirini softly giggles as she replies, “I know how ridiculous it all sounds… But to answer your question, I don’t know for sure why we are here. It could even be that Filía brought us together so we can become friends.”

“That sounds very sweet,” I laugh, “but couldn’t there be a way for us to become friends without having to join a war?”

Eirini’s smile slowly disappears as the weight of reality comes down upon us again. We’re here to train for actual war, not because we signed up for a fun summer camp. Oh no, I shouldn’t have mentioned the war when our conversation clearly made her feel more at ease in this terrible situation. 

And honestly, it made me forget about our confinement too.

(Bedankt voor het lezen! Ik hoor graag reacties en feedback als je die hebt <3 )