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“The fuck are you writing so aggressively for? Hell, you’re gonna rip a hole through the damn page.”
Atlas raised her eyes from the journal clutched in her hands, staring at Jaeger with a sneer. “It’s none of your business. What do you want?”
“Well, I wanted to tell you to stop ruining your shit. Y’know, yer Daddy ain’t always gonna buy you a new one if you keep breaking those. Fuck are ya even writing in there anyway?” Jaeger attempted to lean over and peek, but Atlas swiftly slammed the book shut.
“Nothing, now get out of my room- wait, how’d you even get in here?” As her tendrils raised in attack, Jaeger smirked.
“Don’t you worry your empty little head about it, princess, I've got my ways. ” The grin on his face remained as he tilted his head, his sockets being forced to squint at the sheer size of his grin. “Also, I’d hurry it up with your stupid diary brat; I’ve got some more grunt work for you. You’ve been falling behind in your training lately, and we can’t have that.”
Atlas grumbled in annoyance.
Jaeger snorted and turned to leave the room. He paused in the doorway, sockets and smile hollow as he turned to look at Atlas. “Don’t forget, princess, you wanted this…”
The Soldier Princess
It had been a nice day, quiet, with the everlasting cold of the kingdom less biting than usual. A young girl, a princess, had travelled to a nearby village. She had been exploring via carriage with her guard, the king having become exhausted with her energetic nature. “Let us stop and play with the village children!” she cried, to which her knight sneered.
“There is no time for your foolish antic’s princess. Cease your whining before I inform your father,” the knight ordered, but the princess was more foolish than she was obedient. With a kick of her leg and a leap, the princess flew from her carriage and onto the muddy road. Her skirt, flowing and puffy, was stained by the soil. Bounding from the ground, the girl rushed down the road and into the city. She held her skirt up as she ran, as not to trip.
“You foolish girl!” Shouted the guard, “Come back this instant, or you will be princess no more!”
“I want not to be a princess!” Cried the girl, “I want to be a soldier- strong and hearty!”
The girl ran through the dust-paven streets, her leather Mary Janes causing her to fumble as she attempted escape. Quickly, a hand clasped her own and pulled her into a small alleyway. When she turned to look, she saw a boy. A human boy with an age about her own, head adorned with scruffy brown hair and a baker's apron around his hips.
He whispered to her, “Remove your shoes, your highness.”
The princess cried back, “But my stockings- they will become soiled with mud!”
“Soldiers do not care for their stockings state of appearance.” The boy spoke once more, before kneeling and helping her remove her shoes. The mud soaked into the white stockings, but the princess could not find it in her to care. The boy looked up at her, eyes bright with wonder, “If you come with me, we may be soldiers together!”
So, of course, the girl agreed.
They ran through the alleys, taking twists and turns that the princess struggled to keep up with. As they ran, she continued to trip over her dress. The boy ceased his running, “Remove your skirt, your highness.”
The girl cried once again, “But I have no other apparel, and my father will be cross.”
The boy responded, “Soldiers do not care for their father's opinion. Here, take these trousers I have purchased from the market.”
The girl put on the trousers before removing her skirt and continuing her run through the alleyway. The pair swerved through the streets before reaching an opening- it was a path that led outside of the town. They rushed down it, giggling as they bounded over bogs and leaped over logs. Eventually, they reached a clearing. The boy took a wooden sword and handed it to the girl, much to her displeasure. “Please spar with me, your highness.”
She cried, “But, I do not want to fight! What if someone gets hurt?”
The boy responded, “Soldiers do not care if another gets hurt,” he paused and cocked his head, a grin on his face, “But if one does, we will be honourable and cease.” He held out a hand to her, warmth blooming in the cold air.
So the girl took his hand and allowed him to guide her into the clearing. In the centre of a meadow was a muddy pit, of which the boy helped her into. The princess braced herself with her sword, a giggle in her throat and a gleam in her eye. They sparred until the night settled across the land and the men and mice all tucked into their beds.
Then the wind lifted, and a cold came to rest upon the meadow. Deer and rabbits scampered away, yet the children remained unaware. A king and a knight stood above the pit, their shadows casting upon the youth as they sparred. Not a word was spoken as the knight descended into the pit.
“So you desire to be a soldier,” the king spoke, his face overcast by shadows in the night. The princess turned, joy flickering in her chest at the appearance of her father. However, it was soon replaced by fear at the approach of her guard. “So childish, as you know not the duties of one. Tonight, you will learn.”
The guard grabbed the baker's boy by the forearm, pulling him into the air. The princess gasped, but did not move from where she stood. Her trust in her father was immovable.
The cube of an apple, rotten and infected, sat upon the guard's palm. In an instant, a skeletal claw was pushed against the boy's face, the apple falling between his lips. Down, down, down, it sank into his gullet, and the guard went up, up, up out of the pit.
The boy sank to his knees and choked, rocking forward as his forearms collided with the unforgiving dirt. He thrashed as his bones cracked, his muscles tore, and his eyes dissolved. The black poison he had eaten dribbled from his empty sockets and down his chin, as his head rocked to his side to gaze at the princess.
“Father I beg-” cried the princess, “Turn him back!”
“Soldiers defeat monsters to protect their king, my dear.” The king did not move, nor did the knight from his side. “Be a soldier.”
The princess gasped as the wooden sword was pulled from her hands. She yelled for the boy to stop as he knocked her to the ground. “I do not want to play anymore!” She cried, yet no one heard.
After a thrashing struggle, the girl got the boy on his back. A knee to his chest, she stared into his eyeless face and raised her fist. Then she brought it down. Once. Twice. Thrice. She couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t-
Atlas watched as a hole ripped into the paper she was writing on. With a growl, she flipped to another and continued…
With broken bone and shattered rib, the princess pulled herself from the pit. Covered in mud and the red stain of blood on her hands, the girl trembled. Yet, she did not cry.
Cold hands took her own, and a handkerchief wiped the blood from her fists. When the beast's blood no longer stained her, she fell into waiting arms. Not the arms of her king, but the arms of her knight. The king had not moved from his spot, not even to hold his daughter.
“You want to be a soldier, then you shall. You will be trained and taught to lead, and you will know no rest from the blood and dust that will stain your hands.” The king announced.
“I… I do not want to be a soldier,” whispered the girl.
“It is too late for that now.” Spoke the king, as he turned on his heel and left.
Skeletal arms lifted the girl into the air, carrying her away from the meadow. Her chin over the guard's shoulder, she stared at the body of the beast she had conquered. Guilt and exhaustion gnawed at her equally, and she soon fell into a restless slumber…