Hey guys. I know you've been waiting for an update for like, a year now, but the story was getting out of hand, and it desperately needs a rewrite. So, that's what I'm going to do. I reread all of the chapters and am working on bettering them. Look on my page for "A Legend Begins", the rewrite, but before that, enjoy a sneak preview of the first chapter:
This was it; The start of something great. I had taken some of my old clothes and sewn them together to make a mismatched hooded cloak. I had bought an old saddle and used the leather to make a well-fitted mask.
I waited for my parents to retire for the night before slipping off of the estate. I walked quietly through the dark streets, my disguise tucked neatly under my arm. I avoided people as I went, and soon reached the poor parts of the small city. I slipped into the trees on the outskirts of the fields and pulled on my cloak and mask. I walked deeper into the woods, slowly making my way to where I had hidden my horse, Tomahawk. She nickered softly as I untied her and lead her to the field on the very edge of town.
A plow was sitting out in the field, waiting to be put to work. I had heard in the marketplace a few days ago that the family's plow horse had died and they didn't have the money to replace it. Without the field plowed, they couldn't plant crops and would lose everything.
I lead Toma to stand in front of the plow while I slipped into the family's barn to find the straps. It took me close to an hour to find them, figure out how to use them, and hook them up to both the plow and my horse. It was close to midnight by the time I was able to get started plowing.
As the daughter of the Lord of the city, I never had to do any manual labor. My muscles were weak, and I was exhausted by the time we completed one row, but I kept going, determined to complete what I risked so much to do. Tomahawk, who was bred to be a work horse but not a plow horse, faithfully trudged through half of the field before slowing down.
It was after three in the morning, and we were both sweating despite the cold spring air. Tired and sore, I spoke to Toma quietly as we slowly, yet surely, continued to plow the field. It was nearing dawn when we finally finished and both fell asleep where we were standing. I promised myself two minutes of rest before releasing the horse and heading home.
I must have lost track of time, because the next thing I knew there was shouting coming from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see the excited family yelling and waving enthusiastically as they ran my way. I pulled Tomahawk free of the leather straps as quickly as I could, jumped onto her back, and kicked her as hard I could. She shot off, startled, and leaped the fence.
That was when I started running, and I haven't stopped since.