The Ultimate Fantasy Book

Zion

I feel the crowd staring at me, or rather shooting daggers at me. I can just imagine what they are thinking.

'Who does she think she is, that she can order us about?'

In truth, I'm a princess. But not the cliché princess with jeweles and maids, dreaming of Prince Charming. Far from it, actually. My birth name is Ruby, but I go by Zion.  The only reason I'm still alive, is due to the fact that my deceased parents had the sense to hide me away before the rebels attacked.

I know my days at the castle are far gone, so for now I'm under the radar, living in the slums and gutters, keeping my royal identity a secret. At least I was under the radar, until a few minutes ago.

I stand tall and repeat my question to the crowd. "Who will join me?"

One old woman with one eye and a number of missing teeth stand out and shake a fist at me.

"You think you're so high and mighty Zion? You're nothing special!"

I take little heed to the words as I remind myself of who I am. But rights, I could have the hag executed in an instant. But at my present state, I'm powerless.

I look around at the dirty and decrepit numbers. Empty stomachs and missing limbs. The rebels don't just hate the royal family, they attack whoever they want, when they want.

"I know if we ban together, we can take out the rebels. Who will join me?"

"I will!"

My heart leaps as encouragement swells inside. Until the speaker pushes his way through the crowd. It's nothing but a child. I avert my eyes, not sure how to respond.

"I will fight! I will kill those rebels!" The boy continues.

Though his voice is high pitched and full of youth, his faces shows determination.

"What is your name?" I ask.

"Revis."

Well, it's not much but it's a start. I lift my voice and shout, "Who else will join us?"

The people are fed up with my talk and I watch as they disperse. I hear them mumble and complain as they shoot mean glances at me.

"What's the plan, Zion?"

I look down to see Revis still standing beside me. He doesn't seem to realize that we are alone.

I let out a breath, discouragement weighing heavily. "Go home, child."

"I'm no child, I'm eleven years now and I want to fight!"

Eleven years? When I was eleven, I always had the finest clothes, the richest foods, and more toys than I knew what to do with. This child has lived past his age, and past mine as well. "There isn't going to be a fight." I say.

"There must be!" I see the anger burning in his eyes.

I glance up at the sky and notice the sunrise is fading quickly. "It's getting late. Your parents are probably looking for you."

"My parents are dead." His voice hardens. "The rebels killed them."

"The rebels killed my parents too." I admit.

"Then let's avenge them!" His boyish features light up at the prospect.

"It isn't that simple. We need more support. We need weapons." I try to explain.

Revis glances over his shoulder before continuing. "If we had weapons, would you change your mind?"

I eye the boy curiously. "Maybe. But we still need more numbers."

"We won't need numbers if we catch them by surprise." Revis gives a micheivious grin.

I am ready to walk away myself. The rebels are always on the move and are impossible to find. My father had tried many times to seek them out. The attempts only brought death.

"What if, what if I get you the numbers? Then can we fight?"

I look down at the youth. His eagerness is so childlike, but his determination is one of a harden soldier. I too want to fight the rebels, destroy them as they destroyed us.

"How?" Is all I ask.

Revis glances past his shoulder nervously as if fearing someone will overhear him.

"The rebels don't kill their prisoners. They torture them. I know where they are kept. We can rescue them and then we will fight!"

I try to conjure an image of my parents still being alive, it proved impossible. But, If what this boy said is true then, maybe, we might have a change after all. The prisoners will no doubt be weak, injured and worn. They would surely perish in the fight.

"How do you know about this?" I ask with a stern look.

"Because I was a prisoner. My mother and father gave their life so I could escape with mine."

My face betrays my surprise. My mind is already planning and scheming, but I can not let myself be carried away.

"We must talk more." I say. That is the only sure response I can give.

A/N
So sorry for the lack of updates. I hope you enjoyed this one.