Zoeya sat, using her knife to smooth the wood on the boat. She found an abandoned boat, wrecked on the shoreline of the island she claimed as home. (See Songs for more info) The boat contained holes in the wood, falling a part with moss coating the entirety of it. An idea forming in her mind, Zoeya dragged the small boat onto the ground as she used her knife to scrap off all of the wood, examining the structure of her discovery. There was no way for her to fix the remains of the boat she found, however she did use the boat to learn how they were built.
With the found boat, Zoey began finding wood in the forest, cutting off branches as she goes and dragging them to where the boat sat. She slowly began to skin the wood, creating thin logs that was flattened on the top. After several weeks of trying and failing, Zoey had made her own version of the rotting boat out of fresh wood, this one being able to float. She then flattened spare wood, making a type of paddle, though she spent only a day on this one.
The trip between the mainland and her island became easier with the new boat she made. Each time she wasn't in the boat itself, Zoey would hide it under a bush of sorts, hiding the very existance of civilization in the general area. Though Zoeya, at the time, rarely left the island save for when the lake was frozen over and the berries didn't grow due to winter. She would have to cross in those times for food, but since she didn't have any connections to Bree, she found she had no reason to leave the island.
However one day came when Zoey reached around the age of twenty-five, a bandit gang coming to her island for the night. Zoey remained in a tree, hiding from them as they all sat around the campfire, howling in laughter. Zoeya froze as she watches them.
All of them, just like the ones at home. Yes, these ones speak a different language, have different skin, and wear different clothing. But they had the same arrogance, same cruelty in the way the joke and talk. Their stories saying the same thing. Just like the time she spent in agony when she was five. Her last memory of her home was her tied on the back of a horse in the dead of the night, forced to go with a group of men with her fifteen year old sister.
They were taken to a camp, thrown in different cages as if they were captured beasts from the forests. Zoeya was so little, afraid as the men began to howl like wolves. Her face so pure and innocent, her bright blue eyes moving to match her sister's gaze. How much she longed to be in her sister's arms at that moment, hiding from the men who captured her. At the time the reasons the men kidnapped the two young girls was unknown to Zoeya, all she knew is she was asleep one moment, and on a horse the next.
A fire burned in the middle of the camp as the men began to drag Zoeya from the cage she sat in, pulling her towards the flames. One man, the largest of the pack, was snarling out to Zoeya's sister, speaking in Dunael, "You brat, tell us where your parents hide the profit!"
Zoeya's sister was sobbing in her cage, "I don't know! Please, don't hurt her."
"Oh, I'll hurt her unless you spit out the information."
The young woman continued to cry as Zoeya felt the heat of the flames growing as she approached, the man crossing his arms as glared at her, "Either your sister burns, or you tell us."
"NO!" Zoeya's sister shouted out, staring at Zoeya's young, terrified face.
"If that's how it is." He lifted his hand, causing the men around Zoeya to push into the flames, the fire engulfing half her body as it chews away her flesh. A scream caught in the bottom of Zoey's throat, unable to wiggle its way out. In the midst of it all, Zoey was unable to hear what the man and her sister said, the horror of the flames distracting her. The world faded to black as she felt unable to comprehend her surroundings.
Suddenly in the midst of the blackness, Zoeya opened her eyes out of the nightmare of a memory, the bandits camping below her still. Her stomach turned inside of her as she panted softly, seeming to have lost her breath from the memory. Zoeya moved, her back acheing from the tree before she lost balance, falling down onto the bandits. How similar that feeling from the camp flooded back to her as the gaze of all the ruffians and thugs turned to her. Just this time, she had no one to look at for support.
((Part two- Bandits))
