The Iron Throne

They ran. The town burning around them. They didn't stop. There was no hesitation.

The young girl grasped her brothers hand tightly as they wove through their beloved town as their neighbours were cut down by the Black Death raidors. They knew that to be caught was to die, and although they had no place to call home, they valued each others lives; For what was life without family.

She stumbled on the remains of the baker's son; Only recognisable by his boots. Oh how she had hated those boots! They had become close friends with her stomach. She loathed that feeling of weakness she got, she same as she was feeling now, but never would she have wished that death upon him. Nobody deserved to have their innards pulled out while alive. She shuddered.

Her brother looked down on the face of his little sister. Everyone grew up fast in the slums. You had to just to survive. At ten years of age he had already witnessed many horrors night after night, but how he had longed to keep those sights from her. A seven year old should be able to enjoy their childhood without having to worry about anything; Food, water and lodgens. If they got out of this alive he would work a lot harder to keep her safe. He would do anything.

They came to a sudden stop as a raider came running towards them axe held high in full battle rage. The air stilled. He swung. "No!" the girls brother cried as the axe came down towards her. He stepped forward into its path. "I love you Ren. Be a strong girl", and with that he crumpled to the ground.

"Nooooo!" screamed Ren, sounded like a badly wounded animal. She looked around before grasping the hilt of the sword that lay by he feet. "This is for you Kyle" she whispered quietly as she stood up and stabbed the man who stood over her. Her lips raised in a small smile which never reached her eyes. The raider died looking into the cold ice grey eyes of the little girl who knew she would never smile again.