When the war had ended, we thought all was done

What do you do when you've spent the last five years of your life fighting for freedom and suddenly everything stops, the tyrants are dead and the revolution has won?

Write, you might say, but the restoration of the country to it's former glory in the elder days of the King is not going to be as easy as they thought. Especially when the new king is not all he seems to be.

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2. Chapter 1

*Two and a half moths later*

 

(*RoRo's POV*)

What do you do when you've spent the last five years of your life fighting for freedom and suddenly everything stops, the tyrants are dead and the revolution has won? If I hadn't seen the bodies for myself I wouldn't have believed it.

Go back to the libraries and write was all I wanted now. But having been third-in-command for the last part, I got to deal with the aftermath just as much as anyone could. Whilst in control of the restoration of the libraries was better than having to re-do Eastern Movellasland, I'd personally spent hours pouring over parts of the old-royal family tree trying to find a new King or Queen. Both tiring and time-consuming. I hadn't had a chance to take quill to parchment for ages.

But now I was in the Northern parts rather than Central Movellasland, where the old King had ruled from. Going to the places the revolution had sprung up from to see if I could find any more info there. Weirdly enough, Fanfiction had been added to the genres in the North before the East and South too. The West had been virtually untouched until the takeover.

"This is it!" I turned towards the girl walking beside me, Enya, who had spoken. "Let's hope for better luck with these records RoRo"

I nodded, peering into the windows of the stone building. With relief I noticed someone walking around inside, carrying a quill and stack of parchment.

"Come on Enya. Two months of searching- we must get something to help us soon!"

 

 

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