Nothing was ever the same in Serelyan after that day. Soon, we found out that the king sent his armies to stomp out the "rebels" he'd heard rumors about, all across Stolitsa. He ordered his troops to cross the continent and end the rebellion. Serelyan, being one of the farthest countries from the capitol city of Westhaven, in Aliyore, had its fair share of rebels, but my little village did not. One or two people believed in the movement, but wouldn't admit it. That didn't stop the soldiers though. They were given orders and they carried them out: if anyone gives you resistance, kill them.

After the War of Many Years, our world was a different place. The monarch became more controlling and harsh. King Nathaniel took the throne after his father died and everything went to hell. We lost what little freedoms we had. Soldiers came and went from our village. They came into our homes without hesitation, ate our food and slept in our beds. If anyone objected, they were either killed or taken back to the Royal Court in Westhaven as a slave. If you kept your head down and did as you were told, the soldiers wouldn't give you a second glance. Anonymity was the best you could hope for.

Once the soldiers left that day and the dust settled, the survivors in our village came together. We gathered the bodies, buried our dead, treated the injured and tried to heal. Many people were lost that day, cutting our already small population almost in half. Regardless of what I had heard Zeklos say, many soldiers didn't spare the women and children. Nearly a quarter of the dead were defenseless children who were killed because they were trying to run to their parents or women who were trying to protect their families.

Everything deteriorated after that. Once a tightknit community, where we would do anything for one another, distrust began to build. My village became a very hostile place to live. And I was on my own.

I stayed in my house for a while, mostly in shock. After a couple of days of sitting at my kitchen table and staring at the wall, I broke. Sobs tore out of my throat and screams filled the tiny house I had shared with my father. I didn't speak to anyone for weeks. I went out to our land and continued to work like I did before, I rode my horse to the market, and I ignored the looks of pity I received. I traded crops for things I needed to live. I became the only person I needed, the only person I could trust. Eventually, I began to speak to people again. I found out about small children who had lost both of their parents and were now living on the street. I saw a woman who had gone insane because a single bullet had taken the life of both her husband and their weeks old infant. She wandered the streets at night, singing a haunting lullaby. At first, it terrified me. Eventually, it became a familiar, sad reminder that just like her, I was alone. When I passed her in town, I would always give her something, whether it was a small portion of my rations or what small amount of change I had in my pockets.

Years passed like this. The aftermath of that awful day was still being felt, 5 years later. Those children, who were barely older than babies at the time, were now thieves or street urchins. There were many less of them than there were after the massacre. Many had died, either from starvation or the elements. The insane woman died about 2 years after she lost her family. People said they could still her lullaby late at night for years.

The first year after was the hardest. As we all tried to adjust, there was a shift in our world. We all kept waiting for happiness and healing, but all we got was more and more sorrow. Broken families tried to pick up the pieces and rebuild their lives, to pick up where they left off. Our population dropped even more that year. Many people took their own lives, feeling they couldn't go on without the ones we'd lost and felt utterly hopeless. For the longest time, every day, there was a new hole dug and there was someone else in mourning again.

At 14, I had to teach myself everything, how to cook, to sew, to hunt; to care for myself. The most important thing, though, was to defend myself. I learned how to fight and to use the old sword my father had. I learned how to use the old revolver I found under my father's pillow. I taught myself to use a bow while hunting and could hit a moving target, 50 yards away. As our home changed, so did everyone's mindset. I had to fight off and defend myself from boys and men who thought that because I was a young female, they were entitled to my body. By 16, I had matured enough physically to catch the eyes of nearly every male left in our village. For a while, I did my best to not be out at night. Most drank the memories away at night and on more than one occasion, I had to fight someone bigger and stronger than me as he tried to tear my clothes off of my body, right there in the middle of the street. Then I started to train daily. On top of working my land every day, this made me stronger than most of the men in our town. I could take down almost any of them without breaking a sweat.

However, 3 years to the day after the massacre, I learned that boys and men from a poor, starving village and soldiers in the king's army are two very different things.

AN-

So here we go! Not much of a cliffhanger, but enough to make you try and guess what's coming.

I've had quite a few people message me to ask some questions, I'm going to answer the ones that were asked the most, so everyone knows what's going on.

1: What time era is this in? There's really no set time era. It's an AU story, so I'm sorta just working off the image in my head. The closest thing I can think to describe it as is "Dystopian Meets Medieval". There are basic melee weapons used, as well as guns. But no cell phones or anything like that. So try to use your imagination, but if you have any questions, please, feel free to shoot me a message and ask! I'll do my best to answer anything you want to know without spoiling the upcoming story.

2: Was Rose captured at 14 or later on? I think this chapter cleared up any questions about this one up, but just to be safe, no. She was left alone at 14, but isn't captured until later on.

3: Is Ivan supposed to be Dimitri/Christian/someone else in the VA universe? I've gotten different variations of this question from multiple people. The answer is no, Ivan is Ivan. Dimitri and Christian are both coming and each have their own respective roles in this story. I couldn't remember exactly what Ivan was supposed to look like, so I took some creative licensure and described him as I wanted.

I've been trying to respond to everyone who reviews! It means so much to me that people are enjoying this story, especially since it's like my baby.

Is there anything you'd like to see happen in this story or any guesses you have what's going to happen later on? I know it's early, but let your imaginations run wild!

This is the last chapter that's going to be on the short side, from here on out, they're going to be a bit longer and more in depth.

Until next week, lovelies!

-S