Cinderella's Tears - Chapter 00

Through the relentless downpour, a single carriage pressed forward, its wheels struggling against the muddy trail. The driver, grumbling under his breath, squinted through the curtain of rain. The downpour soaked him to the bone, each cold droplet biting at his skin.

“Just my luck,” he muttered, spitting into the storm.

As he tugged at the reins to navigate the narrow path, he noticed another carriage approaching from the opposite direction. He hastily turned the horses, attempting to avoid a collision.

Then it happened. The child inside the carriage flung the door open.

“Hey! It’s dangerous!” he shouted, panic gripping his voice.
But the sound of the rain and the commotion of hooves drowned out his warning. Distracted by the sudden noise, the driver lost control. The oncoming carriage loomed too close.

The horses whinnied in distress.

The collision was violent. The carriage lurched, spinning on its axle before plunging off the edge of the cliff.

A deafening crack echoed as the carriage door shattered on impact. Three passengers were ejected, tumbling helplessly into the abyss. The first was a child, her flowing black hair shimmering even in death as she was impaled on a branch below.
A woman with striking azure hair clutched another child protectively as they tumbled together. Her body struck the jagged rocks, and with a sickening thud, she lay still.

The child she shielded opened his eyes, the rain hammering against his small, trembling frame. He blinked at the lifeless woman beside him—his mother—and a guttural sob escaped his throat.

“Mother…! Wake up! Please wake up!”

Even as his young mind grasped the inevitable, he refused to believe it. He clung to her, shaking her lifeless body, his tears mingling with the relentless rain. Turning his gaze toward the mangled remains of the carriage, he saw the severed head of the driver lying amidst the wreckage, and the bloodied carcasses of the horses scattered around.

“Mother!” he wailed, his small voice breaking through the roar of the storm.

Suddenly, he realized someone was missing.

“Brother…?”

His older brother, who had always been his protector, was gone. Fear clawed at his chest. He stumbled through the wreckage, the rain slicing at his skin like whips.

“Brother! Where are you?”

Desperation fueled his search, but his brother was nowhere to be seen. And then, something warm and sticky dripped onto his face. He looked up.

Blood.

It cascaded down, staining his pale uniform and pooling around his feet. Above him, hanging lifelessly from the jagged cliffside, was his brother. His face, frozen in an expression of pain, stared blankly back at him.

“No! No, no, no!”

The boy screamed, a heart-wrenching cry that echoed through the valley.

Smoke filled the air, thick and acrid, making it impossible to see. Panicked screams blended with the clang of swords, a cacophony of despair. The metallic stench of blood and burning flesh overwhelmed the boy as he ran, his lungs heaving.

“Survive,” his mother’s voice echoed in his mind. “You must survive.”

Her final words haunted him, driving his trembling legs forward. He had never known fear like this. Hours ago, he had been laughing with her, savoring a sweet dessert, their happiness unshaken.

But that world was gone. In its place was chaos.

The masked assailants had come without warning, slaughtering the servants and turning their once-safe haven into a blood-soaked nightmare. The boy’s mother had shielded him, her sword flashing in the dim light as they fled through a hidden passage.

“Stay close!” she commanded, her voice steady despite the terror in her eyes.

The group of survivors ran blindly through the smoke-filled tunnels, their breaths ragged. But the relentless footsteps of their pursuers grew louder, closer.

“Your Majesty, we must move faster!” a knight urged, desperation cracking his voice.

His mother hesitated, torn between her duty as a queen and her love as a mother. Finally, she made her choice.

“You,” she said, turning to her loyal servant. “Take my son. Get him out of here. Tell the world what has happened.”

“But Your Majesty—”

“Now! One of us must live!”

With that, she drew her sword, the blade glinting dimly in the smoky haze. It had been years since she’d wielded it in battle, and she knew she wouldn’t last long. But she would buy her son the time he needed.

“Go!” she shouted, her voice fierce.

The servant grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him away. “Mother!” he screamed, reaching back for her.

“Live!” she called after him.

The boy tried to fight against the servant’s grip, his small hands clawing at the air, but he was too weak. The last thing he heard was the clash of steel and the cries of the knights as they fell, one by one.

Tears streamed down his face as the servant dragged him through the tunnels. Behind them, the sounds of battle faded, replaced by a chilling silence. He knew what it meant.
His mother was gone.