Little Sussie Peronell ran towards the raging rapids of the Roaring Mother river, smiling and laughing. The river itself was forbidden; Sussie had known that for as long as she had known anything. She was only five, so remembering when that lesson was first imparted was impossible. She only knew her mother and father, as well as her big sister and big brother, had reminded her of it every chance they got.

The waters were deep, the flow of it so swift and tumultuous that even stepping a few feet into it would almost certainly result in death. Rocks and boulders, some insanely sharp and jagged, were everywhere. Only boats made of the sturdiest of stuff had a chance against them. A diminutive five-year-old girl had none.

But she wasn’t headed into the water, at least not that of the main river. A small sand inlet had formed naturally, free of rocks, with a slow trickle of water from the river gathering into a small pool. That pool was barely an inch deep, so swimming, sadly, was not an option. But that was okay. What little Sussie Peronell was really interested in were sand castles.

She plopped down hard into the sand, oblivious to how instantly dirty her long white dress got. Her mother wouldn’t be angry, at least. There were some battles a mother knew were bound to be lost. When she’d given Sussie permission to play by the river that morning, she’d looked her up and down, grabbed hold of her dress, opened her mouth to speak… and then just sighed. With a smile, she’d said, “Sure,” followed by the familiar warning, “and do NOT get close to the waters!”

“I know, Mom, I know.”

And she had known; of that, both her mother and father were sure. Kids could be impetuous and unpredictable, but no kid was reckless enough to get too near Old Mother.

And Sussie was a smart kid. Smart and, her parents were starting to notice, incredibly talented. They’d only taken the children to the capital city of Savehaven a handful of times, but Sussie had been immediately drawn to the elaborate, intricately designed towers, buildings, and spires that made up so much of the city. Oh, how she had stared, as if hypnotized, with such awe and wonder. They’d had to tug her by the hand over and over to get her feet moving again.

One day, soon after just such a trip to the city, they’d been walking along the riverbank—as close as anyone dared walk, of course—when Sussie had stopped short. She’d stared at the sand at her feet in much the same way she’d stared at those spires and buildings and towers, her little mind processing something her mother and father couldn’t understand.

“Sussie?” they’d asked, trying to snap her out of her reverie. Instead, she had dropped to her knees, digging her hands into the thick, wet sand. They’d all stopped to watch her, her brother and sister included, sharing confused, bemused glances.

Her concentration had been total. Her hands worked quickly, deftly, as if every little movement were part of some grand plan. At first, it was impossible to tell what she was doing. But after only a minute or two, the shape of a tower started to form. The family had quieted, had taken a step back, letting Sussie do her thing while they looked on with amazement.

She was at it for nearly an hour, her concentration never wavering.

There is only so much you can do with sand and water as your only tools. Yet, when she was done, she had created a near-perfect replica of Godknight Tower, Brightholme’s tallest and most magnificent structure.

She’d looked up at her family then, their jaws all comically wide with amazement. When they looked down at her, they didn’t see any kind of prodigy or architectural genius. Just a happy little girl, looking for her parents’ approval.

Since that day, Sussie had gone on to create every other tower, spire, and building they had seen while in Safehaven, all from memory. Sand castles are destined to fall, and these all did. But the river itself never encroached on the inlet. If the weather held, and if there was no rain, they sometimes stood for days and days.

In quiet times, to themselves, Sussie’s mother and father had worried. Worried that what Sussie was doing was more than just talent. There were stories and rumors of strange magics that existed in the world outside of Brightholme and her surrounding lands. Sussie’s parents had never seen such things themselves, other than the simple tricks from the occasional service mage. But what Sussie was doing… could there be some kind of magic involved?

The thought had scared them. But not enough to make her stop. They probably couldn’t have even if they had wanted to. Sussie was driven, almost primally, to build. Soon, they thought, sand wasn’t going to be enough.

She got started. She’d had an image in her mind for days now, just waiting to be made real. Sussie didn’t know where these images came from, and didn’t care. All she knew was how wonderful it felt to bring them into existence.

She didn’t notice the ground shaking, not at first. The river could do that: disguise anything and everything else that was happening around it. The noise was loud, the force of the waters so strong you could feel the vibrations when you got too close.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

But when the sand at the top of the castle started to crumble, Sussie finally took notice. She stood up angrily, looking around for whatever was messing up her hard work. She initially saw nothing… but that was because she never thought to look across the river. Because there wasn’t supposed to be anything on the other side. At least, that was what she'd been taught. The lands across the Roaring Mother were barren and empty. Dead. There was no reason to even try to cross it.

But it soon became impossible not to notice that something was happening over there.

Sussie frowned and scratched her head. There were… people? It was hard to see. The river was wide and they were far away. But soon the people were joined by several enormous contraptions, the likes of which she had never seen. Immediately her little mind started to try to interpret them, to figure out what their purpose was. But, again, the distance made that analysis nearly impossible.

And then Sussie smiled. Her eyes had naturally been drawn to the mysterious machines approaching the river bank. She had missed the strange beasts that pulled them along.

And the three even greater ones walking alongside them.

There were many strange, interesting, and beautiful animals in the lakes and forests of Brightholme. But Sussie had never seen anything like these creatures. They were nearly as large as the contraptions they walked beside, with great horns of different shapes and sizes protruding from their gigantic heads.

Sussie laughed and jumped up and down. What a sight! What a delight! She wanted to see more, wanted to see them up close. But there was no way. Nothing came across Old Mother.

The people and their contraptions came to a stop right on the riverbank. Sussie watched as they hurried around the pack animals, unhooking them and leading them aside. There were echoes of shouts that made their way across the water, but they were too dim and distant for Sussie to make out any actual words.

Sussie watched for several more minutes as the activity and shouting continued. While the great beasts and giant contraptions were easy to see, the people themselves were a little harder to make out, at least with any detail. What she did find strange was how they seemed to be dressed. They all seemed to be wearing black and red all over their bodies, which made them seem thicker and wider than the normal people of Brightholme. Sometimes the sun would hit them and cause a reflection of light or a glare that made Sussie think they might be made of some kind of metal. But who wore metal?

Then something started to happen. The voices and shouts changed, became more rhythmic. The people’s movements began to sync around the contraptions.

“Whoa,” Sussie whispered, awed by what happened next. Something was growing out of the contraptions! It shot straight up into the air and seemed to be made from the same shiny black metal as the strangers’ clothes.

There were five of them in total, Sussie saw now, spread out by about fifty yards or so. There were people all around them—Sussie had focused so much on the beasts and contraptions that she hadn’t realized just how many there were. They seemed to be pouring over the distant hills, still coming. Within seconds, they took up her entire field of vision.

They shouted and they chanted. The growing metal things were nearly flat and very wide. And they kept growing, and growing, and growing, straight up into the sky. So high she thought they were as big as the tallest towers and spires she had ever seen in Safehaven, save for Godknight Tower.

She was fascinated on a fundamental level at how these things worked, whatever they were. What they were doing seemed impossible. But she wanted to know. She needed to know. It stirred within her that same unnameable desire to create that Safehaven’s buildings had.

The contraptions finally stopped growing. The shouting stopped, and Sussie could hear one lone voice, very loud, shout a few short words. A huge cheer went up, which made her smile. Whatever they were doing, they seemed very happy about it.

Then there was a moment of total silence. It was eerie, like something new was about to happen, Sussie thought. She just didn’t know what.

But then she watched as the top of one of the metal things shuttered a little. A tremendous creaking sound followed, so loud Sussie put her hands to her ears and cringed. And then, to her horror, the makeshift tower began to collapse!

“Oh no!” she cried. They must be so disappointed, she thought. This incredible, miraculous thing they just built, coming down almost as fast as it had gone up.

But… they were cheering again. Why were they cheering? Furthermore, the other four towers began to collapse as well. And they cheered some more!

Sussie stood, completely unable to comprehend what was happening. The tower portions of the contraptions continued to fall towards the Roaring Mother… but fall in what seemed to be a controlled way. How was that possible? Why were they doing this?

They continued to fall, their momentum increasing at alarming rates. “Oh no!” Sussie cried out again. The towers were going to fall right into Old Mother! And that’d be the end of them! What a shame.

But… the cheering?

Despite Sussie’s truly remarkable ability to see, understand, and recreate things she had seen only once… despite her inherent intelligence… at the end of the day, she was still only a five-year-old child, doing her best to comprehend sights she had never witnessed before. So perhaps she can be forgiven for not understanding the true trajectory of the “towers” that were falling towards the river.

Falling towards her. Directly towards her.

In those last seconds, as she finally put it all together... that the trajectory of the tower was going to bring the top end directly down on her… Sussie only had one thought.

“You’re gonna wreck my castle!”

The tower—a bridge, really—landed with an impact that shook the land for miles around.

And thus, little Sussie Peronell became the first casualty of the Fall of Brightholme.