The misfits. The rebels. Case makers. The ones that are round pieces in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They don't like rules. And they have no respect for status. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. But the one thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. While some see them as crazy, we see geniuses. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do. I believe that everyone has a power. And we can, yes, change things. Call me an idealist. Dreamer. And romantic. I'm all that. But I still believe in people and change. And every change starts at the bottom of each person who really wants to make a difference. I'm not saying that I've changed and I'm not going to change... I'm just saying that the world must be changed. It's been happening since most of the last few days. I don't think you can even call it war, it's just that there isn't a w
I remember always watching the crowd like a wolf watching a flock of sheep. Looking for the weak, the slow, the fools. Only now I look more like prey. I can be revealed and caught in the blink of an eye; or even worse, I could be sent to the gallows and end up dead. Everyone has an advantage over a mere and lowly servant. So I have to be faster than ever, smarter than ever and luckier than ever. It's maddening. Fortunately, no one pays attention to yet another servant, another insect scurrying around at the feet of the rich and strong. I enter the square. I feel my arms hang limply at my sides, even though they're ready for anyone who wants to stop me. That's usually my game: walking through the most congested parts of the crowd where I'm not seen or recognized by anyone. Instead, I follow the crowd around the square. My vision is no longer clouded by the fantastic scenery around me. I see beyond him: the crevices between the rocks and the security agents in white uniforms behind ever
Magazines are normal, although we usually only have two a year. I remember being woken up in the morning, with shouts and orders from security officers, entering our house, and searching everything we had, as if we lived to steal things from the lucky ones in each sector. I returned home, intending to take my family to the hidden accommodation, however, while we were packing our bags, our house was invaded by soldiers at the behest of the king. Downstairs, my mother was waiting. But her eyes focus on me. She shakes her head, telling me not to go down, pleading with me to hide. To my surprise, she doesn't seem mad or disappointed in me. On the contrary, her look is even soft. Two agents wait at the door, guns at their hips. I've seen both of them at the village outpost, but there's a third figure: a young woman in red with a tricolor insignia on her chest. A royal servant, who serves the king. I realize that this is not going to be your usual magazine. My mother submits herself to the
It started. My mind goes back to the past, to the Great Garden, to those beautiful and cruel creatures that call themselves human. All vain and empty, with hard eyes and even worse character. The nobles of the big sectors can even be worse. I remember how everyone exuded luxury in every item they used, clothes, houses, cars, food, everything exuded money stolen from the people. I remember stepping in in blocks, a multitude of colors spilling into the spiral garden with cool elegance. It's easy to notice the families that were the most powerful all wear flashy adornments around their necks. It was easy for a child to feel ecstatic as I envisioned those powerful men in their places, exuding strength and power. What's the use anyway? More and more of them joined the crowd. Some stopped to chat, others exchanged lifeless hugs. I realized that for them it was just a party. Most probably had little hope of being seen by the King, so this was just a diversion, something I didn't understand.
I found myself lost and being pushed from one time to another amid different corridors and environments, Singer said "half an hour in the east corridor, half an hour in the west, half an hour in the south and then return to the beginning" and so were the hours of this day strange, I found myself wearing the white military uniform of security agents, at this moment I come across a crowd of servants walking hurriedly, they whisper something to each other and then enter a huge room, I follow them just out of curiosity, yeah It is at this moment that I come across the king on his throne, in the main hall on the west side. His voice booms through the room making the servants bow in a perfect line, one of the guard generals walks around looking at each of them analyzing them. ______________ That begins. - says the king looking with a certain disdain at those people lined up. I follow his gaze, and they all stare at the first maid in line. An old man with gray hair steps forward. The strange
I wouldn't say things could get worse if I weren't in the current situation I find myself in right now. The voice ringing in my ears is so piercing I'm afraid it will crack my skull. I drop to my knees, and feel a concrete floor and steel bars rise up around me. A cell. I scramble to my feet, my hand on my aching head. The vision gradually returns to focus. A person looks at me from the outside. A crown shines on her head. _____________ I would bow down, but I could fall - I say to the king, to immediately regret it. He's a superior, I can't talk to him like that. The king could put me in the stocks, deny me food, punish me, punish my family. No, I realize with horror growing. He is the king. He might just kill me. He can kill us all. But he doesn't seem offended. On the contrary, sketches even a smile. I feel nauseated when we lock eyes and I drop to my knees again. _____________ This bow is already good - he says, enjoying my pain. Fighting the urge to vomit, I reach for the bars a
The color white sinks into my mind every time I think about wearing that uniform, I feel like I've betrayed my father in some way. Blacke, who was standing in front of my cell, glances at me from time to time, looks worried, and is probably trying to find a way to get me out of here without making a fuss. However before he can tell me what the plan to escape would be, a sentry approaches the cell, giving some instructions to Blacke, he turns and then says: _____________ Stand up prisoner. - I look at him with some surprise, the sentry standing next to Livet analyzes me for a few moments waiting for me to do what I was told. ______________ Why? - I question in response, I must behave as if we didn't know each other. ______________ You will be taken to another place, let's go! Obey! - Blacke says and then gives me a wink. I let out an irritated sigh, then even in pain I get up from where I am. He leads me out of the cell and up a flight of stairs. Without a word, I forced to go with th
The guards, including Lian, are guardians who keep me imprisoned. If I fall, if I slip, I die. And others will die because of my failure. As they escort me to the feast, I go over what Thomas has tucked into my head. It's simple, easy to remember, but it still makes me shudder. I was born on the battlefront. This is me, but now I'm trapped and powerless to escape. I feel nauseous just thinking about it. The sentries lead me through a maze of passages in the upper floors of the palace. Like the Garden, the architecture is all marble stone curves, which little by little incline it downwards. Crystals are everywhere, revealing a breathtaking view: the market, the valley and the forests beyond. From this height, I can see the mountains I didn't know rise in the distance and cut the sun with their shadow. ____________ The last two floors are the royal chambers - Lian explains, pointing to a steep spiral corridor. The sun shines brightly and splashes light on us. _____________ The elevator