"Mama!" I screamed as the soldier took her away. Tears swelled in my eyes.

"Tasia, stay there!" She yelled back. I didn't listen. Clutching my soft pink blanket, I ran to her nearly running into a soldier who had a savage look in his eyes. Father had tried to hold me back, but he failed. Rain showered into my short, thick hair, and I had finally reached mother. A soldier shoved me away, making me fall into the mud. Mother was forced into a black automobile which was not common among our land, for our technology was severely limited. We did not even have guns like in the far past. 

The machine drove off with my mother in it, and I sobbed in the deep mud. Father picked me up and gently spoke, "Mother is still in your heart. Never forget that."

My father, Kazameirz, was a mercenary until mother had been executed. He took care of me for years, training me at what would soon be mine- my mother's army. She led the rebellion against our dictator, Cujo.

Father reading warm water in a bath, and I dragged myself in. I scrubbed off all of the filthy dried dirt as tear dropped into the lifeless matter of water. After a few minutes, I got out and pulled on a loose white shirt with black pants. I pondered into my room and ended up lying down on my bed. Father eventually came in and wrapped his scarred arms around me murmuring a lullaby from my earlier childhood. I say a tear shed and knew that he had truly been broken.

I woke up early that next morning and pulled on a cloak while grabbing a basket. It was my chore to gather food. I usually got food from fields and downtown markets. I went to a field full of a vast amount of berries until my basket had overfilled with many scrumptious fruits. I carried the heavy basket home, and set it down at the ancient wooden table in our kitchen. I had felt weaker that day since I had just witnessed my mother's kidnapping. 

"When do you plan on starting training, Tasia," my father spoke as he walked in. 

"I need time," I replied.

He nodded in response, "I see your chore is finished for the day, excellent work."

***

 Father and I decided to go to the downtown market later that day. Father bought some fishing equipment and a sickle for gathering vegetables. He told me he would help me with using a rod by the lake. 

As soon as we got there, Father threw his line out into the water. He caught a sacred fish to which would be a koi. We viewed koi as a fish that gives luck to those who look at it. We did not eat this creature from the fear of karma. My first catch was a tiny bluegill to which was part of our lunch. We fished until sunset, and we then headed back home.

"Where did they take Mama?" I asked sadly.

"They took her elsewhere," he replied.

Elsewhere is the afterlife. It where the dead long to be for eternity. No matter how bad of a person they were, they went elsewhere.

"Why did they take her?"

"I'll tell when you're ready."

That I did not understand. I was mature for my age- at least I think I was. Anyways, Father was excellent at cooking food. He fried the fish at a perfect temperature. Like I said, my pa was a mercenary to which he was a scar across his eye. His hair was grayish black, though he was not old. 

I've always enjoyed helping with cooking. I'd hand the spices whenever Mother or Father needed them. Mother had passed at a very young age. She was only around 29 then. She was so young and didn't deserve her death. Father told me, when I was nine, she was killed from rebellion against Cujo. Cujo was a very strict man. 

I made a grave for her in my secret garden. I planted a rose by a pond full of koi I caught to symbolize that she is never forgotten. Hatred grew inside of me faster than I grew up. I cut my hair into a short pixie cut a year later. 

That's when my real work began.

 "Parry!" Kazameirz commanded. I held my sword at an angle which blocked the blow of the sharpened steel.

"Excellent, now try parrying then counterattacking!"

I did so. I held my sword at an angle, half spun, then knocked him off of his feet. 

"You are strong for a seventeen year old," he said, "but you bow training needs work."

I grabbed two bows and quivers filled with arrows made with natural arrowheads. These rocks were sharp and a beauty for hunting small hares. Father drew his arrow, and I examined the foot stance and aim carefully. He released and the arrow whizzed to the center of the target. 

"Your turn now," he said.

I readied my arrow and controlled my breathing. Aiming slightly upwards, I released the arrow letting it sing to the bullseye. Right on target. Father nodded knowing my skill had increased since the last weeks of training.

"Put the bows away, you are ready," he murmured.

"For what?" I asked. It was the time he told me.

"You are to lead the rebellion of your mother," he replied.

I felt a heat of trauma flow through me, and the next thing I remember is laying in bed with a wet cloth around my forehead. Father sat next to me.

"You passed out for a brief moment- from shock," he told me. 

I sat my head back trying to relax, but I knew that you can never relax during the time of war.

In our beliefs, there were four gods; war, plague, starvation, and death. We do not worship them. War was the god of violence and division. Plague was the god of illness. Starvation was the god of little to no food- obviously. Death was the peaceful god that ended the sufferage of humans. We do not fear death, nor do we worship it.

We are currently going through all four of those events. Our economy is poor so it cannot afford certain technologies. War is the time of rebellion, and people starve to death every day and night. It deeply saddens me that people cannot accept each other for who they are. People in the streets are slaughtered for speaking against Cujo. Cujo is wrong in his actions, but people began to join him. He brainwashed him. Cujo is the lord of war- not god. 

I stepped by my mother's grave later that day. The rose grew tall and proud. The koi still lived, and I felt a relief of courage. I prayed that I would survive the war, but I knew it would be unlikely. I loathed fighting, but it was apparently my destiny to my father's view. He was not right in everything, but I forced myself to obey his rules of the house.