Chapter 3 - BrokenThe world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places.
-Ernest Hemingway The golden rays of sunlight rose over the town surrounding the castle of Locum Populo as a new day dawned. The world was cleansed after the rainstorm, but Vastius was anything but clean. His eyes fluttered awake as the warm beams of sunlight hit his face. He felt empty, alone, and broken. He sat up, exhaling dramatically. Vastius banged his head against the side of the building behind him, causing his head to ache. “I thought this was all a bad dream.” He said, groaning. “But alas! My fate is still the same.” Standing up, Vastius began to wander the streets, searching for something, anything to eat. As he walked up and down the streets, he observed the people he once ruled over. If anyone even looked at him, they glared. A few people even called out at him, calling him rude names and cursing at him. Vastius finally sat down, leaning against a worn down wooden shack. A small girl played nearby, playing with a corn husk doll. The tiny doll was simple, made of only a corn husk and a scrap of fabric. The girl had nothing but the small doll, yet she was happy, cheerily playing in the sunshine. It was a sweet sight, and Vastius couldn't help but smile at the little girl's happiness. The girl noticed Vastius staring at her, and walked up to him. “Are you ok?” she asked him. “You look hungry. Do you want some food?” “Yes, I would like that,” he said. “What is your name?” “Charity.” The girl said. “I’ll go get you some bread.” Charity entered the worn down shack, skipping into the tiny building. She soon emerged with a piece of bread, fresh out of the oven. Walking back over to Vastius, she handed the bread to him. “What happened to you?” She asked him. “A lot has happened to me,” Vastius said. “My family disowned me, left me on my own.” “That's so sad.” Charity said. “Do you need someone to help you?” “Probably,” he said. “Well, I heard my mommy and daddy talking about a guy over in the next town. They said he helps anyone who needs it. You should go visit him.” Charity said. “I bet he would love to help you!” “How can I find this man?” he asked. “My parents said he finds you.” Charity responded. “Alright then, I shall seek out this man. Thank you Charity, for your kindness. I shan't forget you.” Vastius said, standing up. “I hope you find him, mister!” Charity said as he started down the road. The sun was hot as Vastius traveled the road to the next town. As the rays of light beat down on him, Vastius’s skin started to burn. Fields of golden grain sprawled across the landscape, stretching for miles in every direction. There were rows of bushes lining the road, and the occasional tree providing shade. As Vastius journeyed on, he heard a rustle in the bushes. Vastius came to a stop, cautiously looking around for what caused the noise to the side of the stone paved road. “Who’s there?” He called out. He thought he heard voices whispering from the bushes. Walking closer to the sound, Vastius peered into a nearby bush. A set of eyes stared back. Before he could even react, men dressed in tattered clothes surrounded him. They all held a variety of weapons, from clubs to daggers, they were all armed. “Well, what have we here? A royal out all on his own?” The words came from a taller man. He wore some slightly nicer clothes than the other men, but he was equally dirty. A wave of chatter moved amongst the men. A few began to make threatening gestures towards Vastius. “Now hold on, I’m sure we can settle this peacefully,” Vastius said. “What do you want? Food? A pardon?” “Nah, we don't need any of that. We want everything you got, ain't that right boys?” The leader said. In response, the men chattered excitedly. “I don’t have anything you could want. I’m not even royalty anymore.” Vastius said desperately. “Do you think we’re blind, huh? Think we can’t see those fancy clothes and rings on your fingers?” The tall man said. “Get him, boys. Take everything he’s got.” The men converged on Vastius. They started to hit him with the clubs, beating his flesh with the blunt sticks. A few men ripped his rings off his fingers, pulling until they came off. They stripped Vastius down to his underwear, continuing to beat him violently. Someone punched him in the eye, knocking the Ex-prince out cold. Once they were done, the men left Vastius on the side of the road. Exposed to the burning sun, bruised, battered, and possessionless, Vastius was left for dead.
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Welcome to The Writers Block!AuthorKen Mears is a new 17 year old author, here to share his wisdom, advice, and experiences with you, the reader! Archives
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