Prophetic Hope

Elizabeth Daniel

Mrs. Gustavson’s 11th Grade; Principal or Director: Kevin Rogers

Marcus High School, Flower Mound, Texas, USA

On any other day, the sky would have been beautiful. The cloudless blue that

stretched to infinity would have been most admired. The gleaming marble cobblestones

and the stone houses that had been standing for generations would have sparkled in the

light and added to the day's immense beauty. But the dust rising all around the kingdom

shattered the illusion of perfection.

The monarch of this particular kingdom stood at her shaded balcony. A faint

breeze grazed her fair face and caught her jeweled drop earrings. Her long, flowing hair

had been gathered into a bundle atop her head, and a white headdress sat atop it. A lace

gown donned her frail body, and a train of thin silk fell from her shoulders. Her face held

a strong, confident stare as her eyes grazed the horizon.

Another figure approached from behind dressed in a long-sleeved lavender tunic,

sandals that enwrapped her entire calves, and leather gauntlets that showed generations of

wear.

"Queen Derrale?" the younger girl's strong voice called. A lengthy braid

thumped against her back gently as she walked forward.

Without so much as a glance, Derrale responded. "You beseech me, Lassa?"

Compared to her attendant's voice, the queen's was frail and light.

"Your majesty, I deliver a message from the council." Derrale smiled as she

detected slight distaste in Lassa's voice. The council used her as a messenger, and she

was always quite put out about it. The fact that she agreed means that it must be

imperative. "They plan to enact an evacuation. They have told me that if they must they

will do so without your consent, and..."

"They will do no such thing," was the reply. It was more of a statement than a

command. "They know as well as I do that nothing will save us. Those troops have

every intention of destroying us. We will not survive this day."

Lassa tried to hide her disappointment, but to no avail. "So all is lost," she

whispered almost silently. And to think of all the times I taught my son about

peace ...•why should he die here, too, if he was not involved in the mistake that brought us

to this point?

Derrale turned to the girl, her gentle eyes catching those that were almost

watering. "Lassa... " Should I tell her? Should she know what role she will play?

The attendant looked down. She didn't want to hear the queen's worthless

apologies.

"Lassa, take your son and leave. There are secret passages underneath the kitchen

level, in the basement. The door is underneath the garbage pit. Keep running once you

get to the end, and you'll find yourself in the nearby forest."

Lassa looked up with wide eyes. "Queen.... If there are passages, you should-"

"Stay here," the queen interrupted, her voice growing strong. "The prophecy

states that someone will escape. It's in the same passage that says we will die this very

morning. If I leave, they will destroy everything until they find me. It is safer if you

leave.

"Just go." Her face grew strong yet again, her decision set in stone and her will

thrived with her strength.

Tears welled in the younger girl's eyes. My son... this is what I have been trying to teach you about. Taking the hem of her skirt into her grip, Lassa gave Queen Derrale

her most graceful curtsey. "Thank you, your highness." She turned and ran, hoping Her

Highness wouldn't see the tears that began to tumble down her cheeks. Derrale ...for once, you are saving me. I'm sorry I'll never be able to repay you...

Derrale watched her leave, then looked out at her empire once more. "Godspeed,

my friend." And as the enemy troops broke into her home, tears flowed down her face.