A small pickup truck with a makeshift cloth cover trudged along through the snowy road, filled with people crammed so tightly together the cold air almost didn't impact them. The little truck tottered along, clearly not suited for its precious cargo. But everyone on board had no other choice. They had to flee west, escape the war, escape the destruction, escape the hopelessness.
Even if there was still the chance Westheim wouldn't allow them through... they had to try.
The next stop was Saint-Urbain. A bustling village only hours away from the Westheim border by car. Not an industrial powerhouse, but its vital import to international trade kept it alive even after Estmarch began to carve up the remains of Sudland for itself.
In the back of the truck sat two teenagers, nearly mirrors of each other with their similar faces and blue eyes, blonde hair hanging from their woolen caps, clutching each other's hands tightly as the truck bounced up and down the road. Unlike many in the truck, neither one of them spoke - just the closeness they felt to each other was enough. But the scorches on their brown coats and dried blood on their hands showed they likely shared the same stories everyone in the truck had - they'd just barely escaped a war.
"When does it all end?"
Snatches of conversation began to emerge in the truck.
"The royals are gone, but that bastard General ain't happy yet. Emerald Dawn was supposed to set us free..."
"Didn't you hear!? They rounded people up to take Nordland! Said they're gonna knock another King off his throne for the good of the people!"
"Dammit, they better let us through in Westheim... I don't want to die on a battlefield..."
The truck bumped over a pothole, causing one of the twins to reach out and clutch the other close before they fell to the floor.
A redheaded girl with a ponytail and a distinctly Sudlandian accent cut in. "The Shions brought nothing but fire and devastation. It's only right they died in fire too. The Prince was the lucky one... died at home. Pampered and comforted."
"No! I heard someone passing through in Jagenschatz saying they saw him alive, in the Rhune! He gave himself up so the Dawn wouldn't shoot a bunch of peasants! Prince Kaito was a hero!"
The Sudlander spat. "No aristocrat gives up anything for those less than him. It must have been a fake..."
One of the twins looked particularly disturbed, about to leap up and speak, before the other twin silenced them with a grip on their shoulder. They both settled back, slipping closer to the side of the truck as a cold blast of wind nearly blew the cloth covering off. Then everything was quiet again.
"They won't kick us back will they?"
"They might... if they don't want trouble. Westheim's always looked out for itself first. And the Queen came from there too."
The redhead added "They never lifted a finger for Sudland."
"But they're not royals... they don't have royals."
"They have worse than that - they have politicians."
Dark laughter echoed in the back of the truck.
The twins pressed closer together, not engaging in the conversations... just waiting.
"You don't think Confedere's going to do anything? They might get ansty with all those resources in Nordland and not here..."
"We better hope they don't. Or we're never going to make it to Westheim."
With all three of her new prisoners tied up and seated below deck, Luka finally had a chance to interrogate them once the one Gakupo had knocked out awoke. "If you think we'll tell a Loyalist anything-!" the blonde cursed.
YOU ARE READING
Flight of Cendrillon
Fanfiction"Tonight you are a Cinderella, and when the clock strikes twelve, you will become a princess." It is 1914, and the continent of Uralia is on the brink of war as the aggressive Estmarch Empire prepares a grand ball to honor its prince, Kaito of House...
