Empress Anastasha

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the rolling hills of the countryside. Tasha stood at the edge of the wheat field, her calloused hands gripping the wooden fence. The decision weighed heavily on her heart, and she knew there was no turning back.

Uncle Jose shuffled toward her, his steps slow and deliberate. His weathered face bore the lines of years spent tilling the land, and his eyes held a mix of concern and determination. He was more than just her uncle; he was the only family she had left—the man who had taken her in when she had no memory of who she was or where she came from.

"Tasha," Uncle Jose began, his voice gruff. "You're too young for this. Knight enlistment is no place for a girl like you."

Tasha squared her shoulders, her gaze unwavering. "I'm not a girl anymore, Uncle. I'm eighteen, and I've made up my mind."

He sighed, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "It's rigorous out there, Tasha. The training, the battles—it's not a life for someone who's known nothing but the quiet of these fields."

"But we can't afford your medicine," Tasha insisted. "You've been getting weaker, and the healer says we need money. Knight enlistment pays well, and I can swing a sword."

Uncle Jose's eyes flickered with pain. "I've taken care of you all these years, Tasha. You're like a daughter to me."

Tasha clenched her fists. "I won't die, Uncle. And when I return, we'll have enough to buy your medicine and more."

"You deserve a chance at a peaceful life," Uncle Jose said. "Not a life of bloodshed and uncertainty."

Tasha's resolve hardened. "I won't back down, Uncle. I'll prove myself."

He grabbed her shoulders, his grip surprisingly strong.

Tasha pulled away, tears blurring her vision. "I'll enlist, Uncle. With or without your blessing."

Tasha took a deep breath, frustration boiling over. "It's unfair, Uncle. You never even answer my questions about my parents."

Uncle Jose's eyes filled with sadness, but he remained silent, his face etched with an unspoken burden. Tasha's heart ached, not just from his silence but from the weight of all the unanswered questions.

Without another word, Tasha turned on her heel and ran, tears streaming down her face. She sprinted through the fields, her heart pounding in her chest. The wheat fields blurred around her as she pushed herself harder, needing to escape the suffocating tension.

The dense forest enveloped her, its cool shadows offering a brief respite from the turmoil inside her. She found a quiet spot near a stream, sitting down to clear her mind. The gentle burble of the water soothed her, and gradually, her anger ebbed away, replaced by a steely resolve. She closed her eyes, letting the forest's tranquility seep into her soul, and allowed herself to breathe deeply, calming her racing thoughts.

After a while, she knew she couldn't leave things unresolved with Uncle Jose. Wiping her tears, she stood up, her resolve hardening. She had to make things right.

As she approached the farmhouse, an eerie silence hung in the air. Her heart dropped when she saw the door ajar, swinging slightly in the evening breeze. A chill ran down her spine, and she quickened her pace, fear gnawing at her insides.

"Uncle Jose?" she called out, stepping into the dimly lit house.

Her blood ran cold at the sight before her. The room was in disarray, furniture overturned, and the faint metallic scent of blood filled the air. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw Uncle Jose lying on the floor, his body battered and bloodied. He had fought valiantly, and around him were the bodies of three assassins, clad in dark cloaks. Tasha dropped to her knees beside him, her hands trembling.

"Uncle!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "What happened?"

His eyes fluttered open, filled with pain and regret. "Tasha... forgive me," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "I tried to protect you."

She gripped his hand, tears streaming down her face. "Who did this? Why?"

Uncle Jose's hand weakly pointed towards the wall. "The... key..." he managed to say, slipping a small, bloodstained key into her hand. "The diary... it has... answers..."

With a final, shuddering breath, Uncle Jose's hand went limp. Tasha clutched his lifeless form, her heart breaking. She felt a wave of shock and disbelief wash over her. How could this have happened? Why had they come after her uncle?

Struggling to control her shaking hands, she forced herself to look where he had pointed. Through her tears, she saw a barely noticeable keyhole hidden behind a loose wooden panel in the wall. She stumbled towards it, her mind reeling.

With trembling hands, she inserted the key and turned it. The panel creaked open, revealing a dusty, old diary. She took it out, cradling it close as she sat back beside her uncle's body. Her fingers traced the worn leather cover, her mind racing with possibilities.

Tasha opened the diary, its pages filled with Uncle Jose's familiar handwriting. As she began to read, the secrets of her past started to unfold. The diary spoke of hidden truths, her parents' identities, and the dangers that had always been lurking in the shadows.

Her hands shook as she turned each page, her heart pounding with each revelation.

Tasha's world had changed in an instant. The farmhouse that had always been her sanctuary was now tainted with blood and secrets. She looked at her uncle's lifeless body, a mixture of grief and determination filling her heart. She had to honor his sacrifice, uncover the truth, and face the dangers that lay ahead with the diary clutched tightly in her hands.