Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Hope ❯ Seasons Change ( Chapter 1 )

Seasons Change

Autumn. A season full of color. Trees start shedding their colorful leaves, preparing for the harsh seasons to come. Farmers harvest their crops and give it to the Kingdom, barely keeping enough for their families to survive the upcoming season. The days become cooler, the nights chill. Peasants and nobles alike prepare for the All Hallows celebrations. Three days of drink, food, and dance. Three days of sin. Atop their little hill, the Pope and Archbishops whisper nonsense in the King's ear. Slowly corrupting. Corrupting slowly. Corruption.

Winter. A season absent of color. White everywhere, covering everything like a thick, cold blanket. Peasants and commoners barely surviving the season, rationing the food with futile hopes of not running out. Mama and Papa fight. Papa's out of a job. A little family won't be eating tonight. Noble's have it a scant bit better. At least they have food and old money, but their serf's goods are running low. The cold bites everywhere…everyone. Atop their little hill, the Pope and Archbishops whisper lies in the King's ear. Everything is fine. The Kingdom is prospering. Prospering slowly. Slowly dying. Death.

Spring. A season of Life. Rebirth. The endless white slowly fades. Splotches of green show through. The ground becomes soft. It's planting season. Mama and Papa no longer argue. Mama struggles to raise her three young kids on her own. The eldest tries to help and searches for a job. Success. A blacksmiths apprentice. A little family will eat tonight. Noble's stop worrying. Goods start to prosper. Atop their little hill, the Pope and Archbishop look upon the deathbed of their King. A sad little Prince is in the garden, crying. Whimpering. Despair.

Summer. A scorching season. Crops fail. It's wartime. With the King dead and his heir but eight summers old, the Church takes over. Alliances and destruction. A Kingdom at war. Bread prices rise. Peasants and commoners revolt. The Blacksmith's apprentice, not but a few summers older then the Prince, is sent off to war. Husbands leave wives. Most never return. The Kingdom is scared. Not for the first time, people fear. They quiver. Panic.

Years pass. The Prince is crowned King. Atop their little hill, the Pope and Archbishops whisper nonsense into his ear. He knows it isn't true. He's seen the state the Kingdom is in. Knows how much blood has been spilt. Corruption, Death, Despair, Panic. With a General not much older then he is, he rebuilds. Seasons start over, lives change. Through the Kingdom, peasant, commoner and noble alike whisper one single word. Hope.