The Beginning
She actually had quite the perfect life. She got good grades and had friends. She was known to be nice and fair at school. Her parents were together, which she knew she was lucky for, especially these days. She also had a little brother she occasionally yelled at. She liked to read, curled up in her soft bed with blankets all around her. She despised the winter and would rather sweat the heat out than be exposed to the biting cold.
She used to take ballet lessons and play the piano when she was little- like all other good Asian girls. Although she regrets it now, she quit after a few years because she had no passion for it at the time and did not enjoy the repetitive practice mastery required. Her focus in life right now was to get into a good college. She even applied to a few Ivies so that she would never have to wonder if her life would have been different if she had applied to Harvard or Yale—one never knows.
These are a few things about a girl named Grace Kim. Unbeknownst to her, her life was about to change—like all heroines of legend.
"Watch yerself, child!" scolded a strange voice.
"I'm sorry. Please excuse me," the startled "child" replied.
The large man, for it was he who had reprimanded her, "humph-ed" and looked away.
Grace looked around her with extreme confusion and wonderment in her eyes. She was in the middle of a massive crowd, full of bustling men, women, and children. People were yelling and screaming, and all the commotion was making her head spin.
Suddenly, she sneezed so hard that she was momentarily blind. Dust was everywhere. It made her eyes water, her throat dry, and her nose itch. It was also very hot. Scorching, to be exact.
What the hell is going on?
She looked around some more moving only her head. She was too afraid in this unknown territory to even take a step. With wide eyes, she noticed that before her was a great dirt path that extended to a seemingly infinite distance to the left and right of her. Another wild crowd was gathered at the other end. She tried to keep her balance as the surrounding people jostled her in their excitement. She bumped the big, burly man once again. She could feel his glare, but she avoided looking directly into his face.
She soon realized that the crowd was waiting for something to come along the path they had separated to create. And, she knew that whatever they were waiting for was arriving soon because the noise only grew greater and greater every second.
Gah… I hate loud noises! She screamed in her head as she struggled not to clasp her hands over her ears.
Why is everyone dressed so strangely and… ugh! She wrinkled her nose in disgust. It smells like horse manure!
The ground began to shake like a small earthquake, and she immediately dropped to the ground. The people were too busy straining their necks to look down the path to notice that she was behaving out of place.
She realized, though, that it was no earthquake that caused the ground to shake but the march of a large party of soldiers and war-horses.
And suddenly, fear coursed through Grace's body so that she froze in her position near the ground. She had absolutely no idea where she was, what she was doing there, and what was going on. Everything was wrong--the air, the smell, the people, the buzz of conversation around her... She could hardly breathe. She had never been so scared before in her life.
But then, a child's wail snapped her out of her reverie. A toddler had appeared in the middle of the path. Right in the way of those vicious hooves!
Oh my god! They're not going to stop for it! It's going to get run over!
The soldiers just kept marching, and the horses continued to stamp the ground as they unknowingly approached the baby. The restless crowd was not paying attention and did not notice. Closer and closer they approached, and the cheers became louder and louder. Still recovering from shock, Grace could hardly move as the death of the baby loomed nearer.
The crowd collectively gasped as they saw a lone figure suddenly dash out into the middle of the road. The horse that was at the front of the parade reared back and nearly threw its rider to the ground. However, the experienced rider was able to calm his mare and remain in his seat, and when he saw what lay in his path, he cursed.
"Stupid, stupid child! What are you doing?" he hissed. However, the quivering mass on the ground refused to reply. By this time, the entire procession was forced to a halt, and the crowd quieted save a few curious murmurs.
Enraged, the rider jumped to the ground. He grabbed a shoulder and violently turned the figure over.
"I said, what do you think you're doing!" he roared.
"And, what do you think you are doing?" she seethed angrily, getting up. She already hated this man and his superiority complex. He's yelling at her in front of all these people! Adults were adults, and her parents brought her up to respect them. But she also knew respect was something to be worked for and gained. Besides, she also had her pride. Her actions had not been in the wrong.
"There's a baby in the middle of the damn road, and you don't even stop for it! If you weren't so busy waving charmingly at the crowd, you could have saved its life! After all, isn't that what knights are supposed to do?" she sneered. She guessed that this man was supposed to be a knight by judging from his costume because that's what she, just a moment ago, decided it was. She must have been knocked out and taken to a weird cos-play fashion show, where everyone was dressed as medieval knights and peasants. They were dead serious about this--the fanatics. But still! They shouldn't be so wrapped up in their fantasy to almost kill someone!
"How dare you!" The soldier turned beet red, and he swung his hand to hit her.
The pain was sharp--she had never been slapped before, and she was outraged that this insane man had hit her!
She held her hand against her stinging cheek and screamed, "How dare you! How dare you!" She could hardly believe it! "I'm reporting you to the police!! Oh my GOD! What the HELL!!!"
"Police?" inquired a deep, calm voice. A handsome man approached them in a brilliant, black horse.
"Your majesty," bowed the man who had hit her, "This idiot child is the reason for the disturbance. I suggest we dispose of him quickly."
Your majesty? Jesus, they're all crazy! Wait... Did he just call me a 'him?'
Directing his words at her, his "majesty" said, "What big words and voice you have, little one. My own children nearly cried in fright. What is this 'police' that you threaten a Tortallan knight with?"
Forgetting the words of the rider, Grace answered back haughtily. "Sir, I'm sorry, but your friend," she pointed to the other man, "hit me for no good reason."
"GOOD REASON?" the accused bellowed. "You throw yourself at my feet like a whore, stop the procession of the king himself, and have the gall to insult a knight of the most powerful kingdom in existence! Should I have more of an excuse to whip you until you bleed to death?!"
"Paul, that's enough," reassured the handsome man.
"But, your majesty..." he protested.
"I said... that's enough," he said quietly but firmly.
Grace was awed that he had such command in his voice... even if all of this was fake.
"Sir, I'm sorry that I stopped your little parade, but your men and their horses nearly trampled this child to death," she hugged the child in her arms more tightly as if to emphasize her point. "She would have died if I hadn't done what I did. Her life was more important to me than your show, I'm afraid." Grace smiled a little--she liked this quiet, handsome man, even if he must be slightly insane to be participating in all of this. "Also, your friend did not," she glanced back at the red soldier, "have the right to hit me. However, I'm willing not to report him if he makes a sincere apology--for hitting me and for calling me an idiot and a whore."
Next, she turned around to scan the faces of the amazed crowd. "Who is this child's mother?" she yelled. When she received no reply, she yelled out again. She must be here. "Who is this child's mother?" she demanded.
"Nay, the child's mother and father are dead," said a man. "I am the uncle. Me and the missus takes care of this lass." He stepped out from the crowd and onto the road. "I'll take the girl. Thank ye for yer troubles."
"You're welcome," Grace smiled. Wow... he's pulling the accent off really well!
"Your Highness," pleaded Paul, "Do not ask me to make this preposterous apology."
"Young one," said the king. He regarded the form before him with thoughtfulness and curiosity. "your words are strange and your looks foreign. Where are you from? Certainly not from these lands?"
"Uh…" I'm from AMERICA! Is he racist, to top it all off too? "I…"
"He's asking you a question. Answer it, brat!" snapped Paul.
Grace glared at him before facing the "king."
"No, I'm not from here, which explains my language…and looks, I suppose." she added hesitantly. "I…"
Then, everything went black.
Great she thought before she gave
in to the darkness. What a great time to
have my first heat stroke.
