Back to the Roots

Chapter 1: The Escape

Elia listened to the sound of water seeping through the wooden planks. Her heartbeat was louder than the echoes of her conscience just moments ago.

The hands that once devised strategies for Solvera now trembled. She was fleeing the stormy seas where she had prepared war plans.

She was leaving behind her father and departing from her mother’s country. She was moving away from the magnificent palace where she had spent years sweating to protect her people.

And now, she was returning to the land she had never visited before — her father’s country, Trenia.

She could feel the approach to Trenia’s harbor. The ship slowed down, and thin rays of sunlight filtering through the planks gently lit the cabin. Though faint, this light carried hope within it.

After a while, the ship stopped and docked. Elia quickly gathered her things and stood up. The door above creaked open.

“Come on, Solvenian, we’ve arrived,” said a harsh voice.

Without hesitation, Elia climbed the stairs and stepped onto the deck. She squinted her eyes and looked around. It was a calm city. A sunny, peaceful day. Her breathing slowed. There was a flutter inside her heart — a sense of belonging she neither rejected nor feared, but rather expected.

She stepped off the dock, paid the sailors and captains who brought her here. Now, a new path lay ahead. Her first goal was to find her uncle and his family. She wanted to stay with them for a while, then somehow bring her father from Solvenia — either by returning herself or by bringing him here.

She knew there was no future for her in Solvenia anymore. But a voice inside still whispered that her efforts had not been in vain, that she deserved to see some reward. She quickened her steps as she slipped away from the crowd at the harbor. The small bag she carried grew heavier, but the thoughts inside weighed even more.

Before leaving, her father had held her hand and looked into her eyes, saying:

“Find Velka Neighborhood in Trenia. Your uncle is there. On a street near the market, one of the old stone houses. He will open the door for you.”

Elia could not forget the tremor in her father’s voice at that moment. As that voice echoed in her ears now, she began walking street by street with the hope of finding Velka Neighborhood.

Velka was close to Trenia’s center; known for its crowded markets and simple yet lively streets. It was not far from the palace. Therefore, this place was one where both the people and the government’s pulse beat.

When she reached the beginning of the street, she saw stone-walled houses. There were children carrying fruit baskets in the street, shopkeepers doing morning cleaning. She sighed. This had to be the place.

A feeling inside told her she was on the right path.

Now, all she had to do was knock on one of those stone houses’ doors and find the right person. But she couldn’t knock on every stone door one by one.

Elia took a few more steps and, listening to her intuition, approached a man selling milk at a stall. The girl beside him was still holding an egg basket. Elia approached carefully.

“Excuse me, do you live around here?” she asked, her voice a bit hesitant but determined.

The man turned to her with slight surprise; he had mistaken Elia for a customer.

“Yes… well, yes, I do. Why do you ask? Are you lost?”

The girl also smiled at Elia with curiosity.

“Where are you going? Maybe I can help. I live nearby.”

At that moment, the man gave a few small coins to the girl holding the egg basket and said,

“Thank you, Mary.”

“You’re welcome,” said the girl, taking the remaining eggs and blending into the crowd.

Elia glanced at her for a moment longer. The girl, whom she had thought was her cousin a few seconds ago, was actually just an egg seller. But the feeling inside Elia was still alive. Elia trusted her feelings — after years of making war plans and strategies in the palace, for her, intuition was a weapon.

She paused for a moment. Then, without saying anything, she turned around and started walking quickly in the direction Mary had gone. She was following her.

After a while, the girl approached a small stall. She spoke a few words with an old man standing nearby and put down her basket. Elia slowly approached them.

“Excuse me…” she said again.

“I’m looking for someone. My name is Elia, daughter of Kian.”

At the mention of the name Kian, both looked at her in surprise. The man said, “Kian? The old Trenia soldier, the war veteran?”

I nodded in affirmation. The man looked at the young girl beside him.

“Who are you looking for?” she asked.

“My uncle,” I said. “His name is Kalen.”

The girl looked at me in surprise and said, “Follow me.” She took her egg basket and walked quickly.

I nodded to the man at the stall and followed the girl. After walking a little further, at the stall, a slightly older man smiled and said, “Mary, sales must not have been good, huh?”

Ignoring him, the girl put down her basket and said without looking at me, “This girl says she’s Kian’s daughter.”

The man was suddenly surprised. While I nervously looked at them, the man looked into my eyes and with a sincere smile said, “Welcome, Elia.”