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The Price of Freedom


Coalf

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Beginning

She blitzed through the garden like a typhoon, her well made dress of unremarkable colors and poor material followed suit.

She traced her steps to the gardens not even stopping to greet the gardener who was at work since early morning. She coughed against the wind, her lungs strained from the long near Olympic journey as hair impaired her vision yet she didn’t stop to brush it away as there was no time.


He sat quietly in his room, the morning coffee having limited effect his now caffeine resistant body and drinking it on an empty stomach did not improve his mood.

He quickly apologized and excused himself much to the coughing and hmmpfing of his parents.

The summer breeze had no effect on his tight fitting, sash laden black uniform jacket, his velvet red parade trousers or his slicked black brown hair.


A sudden force impacted against him and hugged him tightly, on other days he would turn around and welcome her with the same zeal, but not today.


“I’m free!”, she gasped, her hands clasping together around his waist, “Tribunal blessed I’m free!”


They both prayed long and hard for a moment like this, for all slaves to be truly free and unshackled and now with the sudden declaration that dream became a reality.

He let that moment wash over him, he closed his eyes and stroked the palm of her hands silently standing and imagining.


Have they been seen like this a day before, no, mere three hours before the announcement her father would have Sofia whipped and escorted out in a stock, but not today.

Today he had to deliver a much worse punishment.


“That you are my dear,” he near ran out of breath as he said those lines yet he found room for more.

“Truly free.”


Sofia hoped this day would come, she barely had time to dress and sprint all the way from slave quarters to here had there not been such a massive commotion already she would have surely been punished for breaking the public decency and calmness edicts.

Her face lit up and her hear fluttered as she finally got to say these words, the words she hoped to say ever since her and Adem met, ever since he snuck food into her quarters, ever since she made sure no servant spits on his meals, ever since they confessed their love.

“We can finally get married!”


Adem heart burst.

As the morning came and he had plenty of time to rest, as the broadcasts came he had been just as bursting with vigor, just as bursting with joy and want for his dear beloved.

But as he dressed for the occasion, as he followed each edict and prayer he had time, time to read the balance, time to read the loss and gain, time to think.

And he hoped since that moment she wouldn’t ask that question, ever since his father knocked over the table, ever since his mother cried in outrage, ever since their maid threw away their breakfast.


“No, we cannot”


Sofia could hear glass shatter yet not a single window broke, she wanted to cry but could not, she merely stood there.


“My father took large loans which he so far failed to pay back,” he started his explanation as Sofia withdrew, he did not turn to her, he didn’t want to.

She didn’t want that either.

“Food, shelter, clothes those are easy to provide, one turns a blind eye here, transports that, lets someone go, but money?” he sighed masking his voice crack and adjusting his sash.

“We’re selling this estate, you’re being relieved of your service and my family is moving, without you.”

“But w-“

“Goodbye, Sofia.”


In pain he simply turned on his heel, throwing her to the side forcefuly, severing all ties they had with one decisive motion.

His blind hatred misdirected at her instead of the Emperor and his edicts, his father and his ridiculous loans or the loaners with their predatory behavior.


She fell to the ground, now she was alone her mind cracked and reformed, cracked and reformed.

An hour later she got up, realizing she had no idea where to go or what to do.

There were no orders to follow, no morning routines and no man or woman to tell her what to do.

Sofia now had responsibilities.


The wind blew again, men die, texts shift, ideas change and worlds crack.

Times change.

End

 

Author notes:

So I realized I haven't actually writen jack shit besides satyrical comedies and that one weird robot thing from 2015 that reads like ass. So I did this semi-serious and extremely corny Dominian love story because I'll be damned if the first story about Dominia is going to be a war story.

This is no way precisely accurate to Dominia, I tried to stick to it but I just don't know enough about daily life to prop it up.


I haven't spellchecked nor have I checked for a coherent word structure, this was a sudden fey mood, if you want to spellcheck feel free to.

 

Secret cry-blog

It's a way for me to deal with changes I dislike, I realized that If I seriously wanted my foot in the Dominian door I should have just made it mine instead of giving vague ideas. So really I only have myself to blame for what happened and I hold no grudges against Zundy or Jackboots. It's their ship and I'll stop making holes in it.

 

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