A young girl laid panting on the cold, wet ground. It was hard to breath, all that smoke, fire, screams, clatter of metal. She had been hit by something while she was running away from the dark, ugly demon. Demons. Not humans. Demons came suddenly in the very morning at dawn when it was still dark. They didn't hide their presence and began burning, killing and robbing the very instance they reached her town. They had dark skin, strange, narrow eyes and yelled in some barbaric, evil tongue. The young girl slowly brought her palm to her forehead and made a cross. In the name of the God, the Son and they Holy Spirit. Amen. She wished she had lost consciousness or even died. This pain and terror was unbearable. It started to quiet down, or is it her fading away from this world? She saw a Dark, ugly figure standing beside her, he was saying something to her but she didn't reply even though she was scared, she didn't know how to, she wasn't even sure whether she could speak at all. Her vision was becoming blurry, the smell of carnage was overwhelming her senses. The dark figure yelled something at her and spat. He unsheathed his crescent sword and lifted it above her. The girl cried out and shut her eyes preparing for the worst to come.
She heard a strange, quick sound followed by a sound of something or someone falling next to her. She opened one eye and saw that the demon wasn't there anymore. She looked to the other side as much as her unresponsive neck muscles allowed her to. The demon wasn't there either. She felt something warm touching her neck and shoulder, some sort of liquid. She looked left and right beside her she saw a contorted face of the dark heathen, with blood coming out of his lifeless mouth. Terrified, she brought her shaking hand to her neck to get some liquid on her fingers, she then brought it up to her sight. Still hot, deep red, even more so under the first, bright rays of the sun, blood. Blood of the demon.
The sound of the broken twig averted her terrified gaze to a bright figure now standing next to her. Iron. This ..thing... was fully clad in iron with a big, red feather sticking out of the top of his helmet. Perhaps she would laugh if it didn't hurt so much. The man inside the iron-man said something she, yet again, could not understand. His iron hands moved to his iron head and he lifted it, exposing another head. A human one. He had light brown, untrimmed hair with some loose bangs hanging to the sides of his face, and piercing green eyes. He was looking at her triumphantly, with the confidence of a winner. This was the last thing that Natalia saw that day before her conscience had finally slipped away from her.
When she finally come to her senses she realized that she wasn't at home anymore. In-fact it looked nothing like her comfortable room. It was some kind of tent, but a big tent. She heard the sound of horses and men coming from outside. She tried to sit up but felt the sudden jolt of pain in her back and quickly abandoned that plan. She was happy that she is alive and the heathens had gone. Or have they?
"Oh! You are awake" came a strange sounding voice.
Brown haired and green eyed head was peeking from the tent's door. He immediately walked in with no hesitation. Natalia averted her gaze feeling uneasy being in such a helpless, compromising situation in-front of the stranger.
"What is it you want from me, foreign stranger?" she asked quietly.
"What? Have you forgotten I saved you? Or has that blow taken your memories?" the man asked back, her question made him feel uneasy, she can't possibly be implying indecent intentions on his part.
"No, I remember. But why have you saved me and brought me here? Do my people know I'm here? Does... my Prince know I'm here?"
"Oh. I suppose I'd have to tell you sooner or later anyway. My name is Toris. I saved you yesterday. Many of your people, including the ruling Prince and his family perished in the fight with the Mongols. Now your lands belong to my Prince. I'm afraid you'll have to stay at my castle with us from now on." he said slowly and carefully.
The room was silent for a good minute. It was all too much. Too much information to process at once too much to stomach. She was at loss of words. Why? Who? Mongols? Demons. Prince is dead? She is being taken somewhere? No. Can it really be? She knew well that there must have been many losses, many lifes so dear to her lost, but... even the prince was dead?
"You are lying, I don't trust you. Who are you? Where did you come from? Why are my lands yours? They are not yours!"
"But they are! You were attacked by the Mongol hordes and lost badly. We attacked the Mongols and drove them back from these lands. Now the lands are ours. Your people are weak and can't fight. You would have perished if not for us. You cannot have the land if you cannot keep others from taking it from you."
She was quiet again, refusing to look at him. He was about to leave the tent as he began feeling very uneasy and somewhat guilty for having to force his Prince's plans on her, when he heard her quiet voice say:
"Toris... the world is not a savage garden."
Not paying much thought to her words, he exited the tent.
NOTE: Belarus first was mentioned when Vikings settled in a city called Polotsk. This was the first Belarusian principality, principality of Polotsk. Later it fell under the influence of Kiev ( capital of Kievan Rus) for 200 years. In 1240 Kiev was invaded by Mongols. It was a brutal invasion and many Belarusian villages and towns disappeared. Grand Dutchy of Lithuania pushed Mongols to the east and south, absorbing all Belarusian lands in the process.