Kingdom of Rust

There is a thin line between anxiety and excitement. There is a moment of doubt before ever the most spontaneous decision. There is endless oceans to cross before you reach the kingdom you have been searching for.

Longing to feel fulfilled overtakes minds, the addiction to love, to material needs and to complex pleasures drives people to do things they wouldn’t have done if they been subjected to the indoctrinating text of the Lega.

I escaped when I was fourteen years old, my mind was set free of its chains and even now, there is a thin line between being happy to be rid of my chains, and terrified of a life without them, ever searching for real answers. There are moments when I doubt my decisions, where I regret running away and there are oceans I have yet to cross before I am fully away from Romvi and its people.

After only two years of travelling, I am weary. The roads are long and the world is growing ever larger. Time is moving slowly, as my feet increase in speed and the words I hear become less and less the words of the Lega and increasingly the words of free thinkers and people my Etzlin once forbade me from speaking too.

As I near the dangerous North planes, I feel less fear than when I was locked in the safe, secure South. Romvi is a year’s walk behind me now, Streksam’s gates a mere two days away. Soon I will be encased in a new world. Soon, I will be truly able to think.

Magi closed the book as the final words closed the story she had engrossed herself in for the last three days. Unable to truly understand its meaning, she had grown increasingly frustrated with the words and the places. Fantasy novels never ceased to irk her, she was always satisfied when she closed the book; glad it had finished but still, longing for some slight understanding of what the hell had just happened.