Friday, March 27, 2015

Flash Fiction Friday #3

Yikes, only three (three and a half?) weeks into this "Flash Fiction Friday" and I've already forgotten to post one on time. I really don't have anything to say in my defense except that I had a busy weekend and it just slipped my mind. I'll try not to let it happen again. In other news, 1Q84 is taking me an extremely long time to get through, so my review for it may end up being posted a lot later than I intended it to be. Sorry, but I have no idea yet when you can expect that. In the meantime, if I have the time for it I might end up reading something else so that I at least have a book to review in a decent amount of time. We'll see what happens.

Yeah ok, Leanne, keep telling yourself that...


When Princess Rosaline had awoken, she hadn't expected to have become a legend. It was true that she had lived the first sixteen years of her life with a curse hanging over her head, a curse she knew was spoken of in whispers across the kingdom; but still she had imagined that after she had met her inevitable fate she would ultimately be forgotten about over time. She had figured that her father and mother would eventually have other children, perhaps a son, and there would be no need to waste precious resources on finding ways to lift the curse on the kingdom's only heir. Life would carry on without her, as it had always done so beyond the confines of her childhood bedchamber. It was a depressing thought, but Rosaline had come to accept such notions as simple truth.

But life had not carried on quite as she had expected. In a hundred years her once great homeland had fallen into ruin, and the world had changed. She had not known that her Great Sleep would befall all those in the castle with her, including her parents. Within days, the kingdom was in an uproar, the noble houses falling upon each other in a bloody clash over the throne resulting in a long string of short-lived kings. In just a few years after she had fallen into her great sleep the acclaimed archers from whom she had learned her skill were overcome by the cannons and firearms of the enemy. Subjugated by a foreign power, the people cried out for a savior.

And now she was expected to lead them. But would it be to victory, or to further ruin? Rosaline knew little of war, and less of this strange new world she had awoken to. Indeed, she had known little of the world to begin with, having spent much of her life in isolation, at first forced, but then self-imposed. All she knew was her bow. After recovering from a sickly childhood, learning to shoot gave her strength. When she had come to understand what her curse truly meant, she drew solace from pouring herself into her archery. She had dedicated her whole life to it, staving off the bitterness with endless hours of practice.

Rosaline regretted her years of seclusion now, finding herself impossibly overwhelmed by this new world. And yet it felt as though she were awakening for the first time, as if she had been asleep for her entire life and had never truly lived. She was afraid, true, but still she felt so alive. She had lost time to make up for, and somehow she would find the strength to do it. She was awake and alive, and she was not about to take that for granted now.

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