Shattering Dreams

Prologue The small boy giggled gleefully as he ran scrambling over a fallen tree trunk, ducking around trees. Little legs pumping, he glanced back at the person pursuing him. She laughed too. Mother had abandoned her traditional formality to play with him. Those moments were rare, and he cherished them. He burst into the clearing, running toward a large boulder beside the stream. Hands grabbed him and hoisted him into the air as his mother caught up to him, holding him close, spinning him around. He wrapped his arms about Mother’s neck as she climbed the sloping rock at the edge of the river. They sat on a large boulder overlooking the stream, the dense forest continuing on the distant bank, comfortable with each other’s company. Near to where they sat, Mother’s people set up rugs and cushions, laying out food and drink in the centre with two places. As the servants stood back to admire their work from a discreet distance, Mother took his hand and they moved to the rug and pillows. The ever-present servants walked forward showing one dish at a time, pulling covers off once he and his mother had settled on the blanket. He smiled, seeing his favourites set before him: a mug of water, nutty bread with tangy cheese (which he had only enjoyed eating when he realised it was his mother’s favourite) and a mixture of berries he loved. Lessons on etiquette from his nanny running through his brain, he looked at his mother with contained impatience as she laughed and took a small bite out of her sandwich. His mother taking that first morsel signalled that he could start his meal. The boy grabbed his food using both hands, not wanting his cheese to fall off onto the ground as it had last time they’d gone on an excursion. Nanny warned him if he wanted to eat with his mother and father along with his brother and sister in the big hall, Mother had to see him showing his best manners—proving he was a grownup. He took a mouthful, taking a moment to enjoy the taste he was familiar with, grinning at his mother after he’d swallowed. Mother liked it too, he could tell. Mirroring her moves, spilling nothing, he placed his bread on the plate; grabbing his mug, he gulped the water it held. With equal care, he settled the mug on the picnic blanket then smiled, thanking the servant who filled up his cup. His meal progressed in much the same fashion, sitting there in quiet companionship with his mother, mirroring everything she did. He caught her smile of approval as he managed his whole lunch, spilling none of it, although he missed the amused glances of the servants and guards. His mother rose, signalling the end of their meal, holding her hand out to him as he stood, helping him to his feet. She laughed again as they picked their course off the rock, careful not to lose their footing, across the clearing and toward the horses. He knew what that indicated. It meant their day out was ending. Still, he didn’t voice his disappointment. For Mother to trust him outside of the nursery more, his tutors had advised him he needed to show he could behave. A faint whistling noise followed by a pained grunt drew his attention and he looked over toward the sound. A guard fell to the ground, his half-drawn blade slipping from the sheath. He lay in a crumpled heap. Another guard, unmoving, slumped over as if he was sleeping; he had never, in the times he’d been out with his mother, seen any of the guards do that. Bewildered, the boy spun around, wide-eyed as more of the escort fell. His mother’s gasp caused him to look back up. He stumbled as she thrust him backwards. “Run, hide …” She stopped, frozen for a moment. The boy recognised fear on her face as a tall, dark figure loomed over her. Her head wrenched to one side, then he saw a large hunting blade slice across her throat. The man screamed and shoved his mother aside. She crumpled, reminding him of his sister’s rag dolls—dropped, left broken and forgotten by her attackers on the ground. The boy remembered his lessons; he’d overheard guards talking often enough, knew they watched out for them. He knew, even though this was the first time he’d seen one, that the dark, looming figure was one of the Sundered. He struggled as strong hands picked him up and he heard the cruel laughter of his captor. “Foolish child. Do you think you can escape me? You’ll join your mother before long.” Then the figure stopped and looked at him, before throwing his head back. A harsh bark of laughter erupted from him. The boy fell to the ground as the Sundered dropped him. “Live for now, boy. You’ll join our ranks soon enough, brother.” The Sundered faded from sight, causing the boy to wonder if the monster had even been there. The boy realised he was alone in the glade with the fallen. His lips trembled as he scrambled over to his mother. Grabbing her shoulder, he shook her, trying to get her to wake, not understanding why she didn’t. As darkness fell, he looked around. He sobbed, muffling the sound by pressing the fabric of his vest against his mouth in case the Sundered came back. Curled near his mother’s side, not knowing what else to do, he finally fell asleep. He woke to the noise of horses and bright, glaring light, in the strong arms of a man he recognised as one his father’s guards. He clung to the guard, not willing to let go. “It’s ok, Alex. We’ll take you home,” the guard choked. Guards slipped a blanket over his mother’s unmoving form and the boy saw, with shock, a tear trail from the eye of the normally impassive guard.