A continuation of:

My spine cannot withstand the pressure of sovereignty


Amada was shaken by the grip and words Pilar spoke and even though she denied any truth to them every time she relived the sound of Pilar's voice and breath in her face, she saw herself nodding some distant agreement.

Amada Tarrago Casas Castanos Domenech Barreiro Loaeza has her lineage spelled out behind her like a rainbow tail for everyone to pluck at. She is the daughter of Manuel Tarrago the Spanish diplomat to the Corzine kingdom north of the mountains of Sonay. He was known for his abilities to lay peace at the feet of the warring factions in Corzine, his words always soothed the hearts of warriors. In the twenty years of service, he never walked away from a potential battle without having quelled whatever rage was upon them. That is until the day he set foot in Spain, retired with family in tow, Amada only seven years of age.

Sansar of Corzine, a warrior of great proportions, dismayed by the almost constant peace his homeland had known since his youth decided to slay the cause, Manuel Tarrago. Knowing Manuel was embarking on his journey home, Sansar started out before him to Madrid. Sansar knew the kill would be more profound and powerful of a trophy in the homeland of the enemy.

He laid in wait at the curve in the path to the Tarrago estate. And with luck, as the family arrived, Manuel was in the rear. Sansar let the child and woman pass and as Manuel sang the last verse of the rhyme Amada always asked for, Sansar pressed his saber into the quick of Manuel's heart and felt the pulse through the saber's metal cease and the brightness in Manuel's eyes drifted out of his body and floated amidst his wife and child, disappearing into the heart of Amada.

But Sansar never looked back long enough to see the essence enter the child who wailed over her father's body. And this was a deep and stupid mistake, as all true warriors always wait and watch for the traveling essence's entrance into another and slay the budding, more powerful enemy.

Amada crumbled into the pool of blood of her beloved father and raged to the gods and saints who heard nothing because they didn't exist. She wished and begged to have one more day with him. She was already looking into the past and seeing her mistakes and missed oppurtunities to be with him. Within seconds she was teaching herself how to kill herself with blame.

Just that morning he had set her on his knee and cooed, "Look out into the mist, this is where the joys of your life exist. Bring forth your inner fire to collect all that you desire and think of me as you find the key to your soul's love, not captivity. Little precious, buzzing bee, oh do be free, and dance with prosperity, the kind that contains, happy, love and only a splash melancholy."

Amada was not one to listen to her father's deep and passionate words, she twisted and turned in his lap and pulled his mustache out of frustration. Pushing away, she ran into the field where her dog leapt high like a deer as he hunted the furry animals that scurried there.

Amada's actions, even though, made by a sweet, impatient child stayed with her forever. She believed if she had listened and held him close as he spoke to her, time would have changed, a different path would have been taken and her father would still be alive. This became a marker in which she pierced her soul, a scar she would covet and mourn all her life.