Short Story 1: The River
The River Prince Sigismund, the second son of Johann Albrecht III, Emperor of Rhaetia, King of the Hermunduri and Heathobards, Grand Duke of Sorbia, and Count of Upper Frisia, softly pulled back on the reigns of his favourite gelding, Praetor. The man, nearly in his second decade of life, gazed across the River Weichsel towards the Wend-Sudovian Commonwealth; there’re so many little villages on both sides of the river, how often do people cross? Not armies, just people; just a love-struck boy desperate to speak to the pretty girl he’s spied across the water so many times. Praetor snorted as his rider stared at the river and people who only appeared as little specs, hardly different from the stars he marvelled at when he was little. For nearly an hour, the rider didn’t move as the sun came close to finishing its journey across the sky to reunite with the world below. The entire time he imagined so many beautiful things about the villagers that made him want to smile, but
