Three Futures Enslaved | Dream Team

Chapter Thirty-Five

George didn't stop riding. He couldn't afford to stop.

The note flickered hauntingly in his vision, taunting him. "Begin the attack on Superiora." His entire world, his safe place... "Begin the attack." He was going to lose it all. He couldn't lose it all.

The castle was a sign of the strength of the royal family, a beacon of power, the heart of a kingdom. But it was also the place that he had grown up in. It was the place of warmth and family, of the bedtime stories his father would tell him when he couldn't --- or rather, refused to --- fall asleep at night. It was his childhood.

And now, it was in flames.

George tugged his horse into a halt at the top of a hill overlooking the kingdom, staring down at the wreckage below him in disbelief. No, no, no, this can't be happening. It's all a dream, a bad dream. This is Superiora. The strongest kingdom in our region.

He was right about one thing: It was Superiora, and it was demolished.

"Father!" George shouted, urging his horse forward again. He was desperately far from the castle, but that didn't matter to him. He just wished that the king would hear him, would come to his side, tell him that it was all okay....

Only, it wasn't. It wasn't a dream. It was very real, and his father's life was in danger.

Tears were streaming down his face now. So, so many people, all of whom had woken up that morning blissfully unaware as to what was about to happen... they were all gone. All those innocents who should've lived a perfectly fulfilling life without danger, not one caught up in a clash between two sides. It just wasn't fair. He knew it wasn't fair.

George made his way through one village after another. It was all destroyed. Some still housed people, scared and flinching away from him when he rode by, but many were gone. Most importantly, all the crops and fields had been burnt.

A flame of anger bubbled up inside of him. It was intentional. Suspiro wanted them to starve. Whoever was left would be those strong enough to benefit them in the making of a "better" Superiora, one under their control. A tactical move. One that just made him angrier.

"Father!" he shouted again. "Where are you?"

A hand grabbed his arm, swiveling him and his horse around until he was face-to-face with a very battered-looking man, one whose grim features and scraggly hair was incredibly familiar to him. George's mouth dropped open.

"Stop shouting," Filens said distractedly, peering around them. "If there were any of Suspiro's knights left over, patrolling these barren areas, we would be found."

He glanced over George, who was still staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth open large enough to fit a crown in it. A smile flickered across his features. "My prince, if you don't close that mouth of yours, you'll catch ash in it."

George pushed his jaw shut again, but he couldn't help but stare at the man before him. "Filens!"

"Prince George," Filens said, his smile solidifying. "It's wonderful to see that you are safe and sound."

He hadn't even realized that he was moving until he was off of his horse and standing right in front of the tall knight, his arms swaying by his sides. "You're alive," he whispered, almost to himself. "You're really, really here right now."

The corners of Filens's eyes crinkled. "Indeed, young prince. I am here."

And just like that, George's world started rebuilding itself again.

***

"So, what happened?" George asked. 

Filens fed another branch into the fire he had started for them, watching as the flames consumed it in a matter of minutes. The red and orange hues flickered, reflected in his pupils. He seemed to age right before George's eyes.