Here is a story that I am writing for this blog. It is called Action and it is about human rights. It will come in parts. Here is part one:
Action: Part 1
My life changed the day the four strangers rode under the great Ivory Arch and into my Father’s kingdom. I remember it so well.
I was out in the desert, on one of my adventures, it was arid and almost unbearably hot. I was walking away from the sprawling, white city behind me, gazing out to the dunes on the horizon, when I saw it. A light brown dust cloud against the pale blue sky. “Horsemen!” I knew at once what the meaning of this strange cloud was. Slipping on my jewelled sandals, I began to sprint into the distance, my feet flying over the sand.
The horses were growing closer, I dived behind a windswept, gnarled shrub and flattened myself onto the hot ground. I saw them clearly now, four of them.
The boy rode first, their leader. He had tight black curls and coffee coloured skin and perspiration glistened on his forehead. His shirt was ripped and his arm hung limply at his side. Still he managed to look proud and dignified as he thundered across the desert. Shortly behind him was a teenage girl with blond hair that flew behind her in the wind. Her dirty, bloodstained white dress matched her light, scratched skin.
Beside her was another girl of around the same age. She was tall and had night dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail, her eyes were a piercing, searching jade. A knife and sword were on the heavy belt slung around her waist. It jangled as they rode.
Finally there came a boy, the youngest of them all. Grim determination could be read on his face as he spurred his steed onwards, He had short brown hair and his skin was the colour of caramel. His trouser leg was soaked with crimson blood and he wore no shoes.
Suddenly they were past me, I hadn’t noticed how close they were getting.
I wriggled round on my belly to watch them go. Once they were inside the gates of my Father’s palace, I rose and started for home.
My Father is the King of this land. What business did these strangers have with him?
I had hardly stepped inside the palace grounds when a hand grabbed mine from behind. I turned to see a boy with short black hair and soft brown eyes. ” Rami! ” I exclaimed. He looked excited. ” Sita, there are new visitors in the Palace City! “” I know, I’ve seen them! ” I replied. “I heard that they are hiding from something.” he whispered ” Something big and powerful and evil. ” His eyes grew wide. I smiled fondly at my friend. ” I’m sure I will find out soon enough ” I said ” I am the King’s daughter, you know. But Rami!” A thought hit me. ” Don’t listen to any of those rumours you hear in the palace kitchens. They’re just stupid, ignorant gossip, understand? ” He grinned and nodded, though I knew he wouldn’t keep his promise.
I found out who they were quite quickly, Father summoned me to his throne room the very next morning.
I was led along the narrow corridor by a servant. My silk skirt rustled luxuriously and the beads on my silver headdress glittered in the sunlight. Rainbows danced through the glass prisms that hung along the ceiling, which was a great white dome. Colourful, chiffon scarfs covered the walls on either side.
My Father sat on his huge, magnificent throne. Solid gold lions and tigers kept him company, lolling either side of him. He was draped in scarlet, burgundy, sunset and forest green robes and an orange turban was on his head. He laughed merrily as I stepped into the beautifully decorated room and walked elegantly towards him. “Sita, my daughter.” he greeted me warmly.
” I assume you are dying to know all about our visitors. ” he smiled knowingly at me. ” Well, yes Papa, as you ask. ” I replied eagerly. ” So are the rest of the Palace City. ” he rolled his eyes.
” I will tell you then.” he waved regally to the a small, elaborately carved, wooden chair opposite him. ” Sit down, Sita, sit down.” I did, the cushion was soft and springy. He began his tale.
” These are brave people. We are honoured to have them here, really. Now, Sita, there are bad people in this world as you know and some are closer to us than we might expect, but these good people are dedicated to fighting them. Even though it means risking their lives.”
“Further west from here there is a group of bad people, we call them rebels. They want power and they will stop at nothing to get it. They are trying to get the civilians on their side. When people refuse, tragically, they kill them. ” I shuddered, but my Father continued. ” These visitors were once our civilians, now they are our soldiers, Sita. They fight against the rebels and for me, but the rebels are getting stronger. Out of fear people join them. Seeking safety and help they have fled here. Not because they are afraid, but because their youngest member is seriously wounded.” “Member?” I asked
“Yes, they are a gang. They call themselves The Action.”
That was the turning point. I knew what my destiny was.