I wrote Trails 3: Trails Through the Tal

I wrote Trails 3: Trails Through the Tales several years ago.
I wrote is as a story of a culture that had absentmindedly allowed individuals to ignore social laws.
Intellectuals were surprised, yet not, when they finally recognized the warning signs. The bullies had taken over their village in short and simple steps over nearly 20 years. A new limiting rule here. Another there. They didn’t realize their rights were disappearing before their eyes. Now, the bullies are entrenched, and intend to take away the rights of the women and children, and rule the land by force.
These people have never seen that. They only know the tales of wars past. Memories so vague, only the oldest among them ever saw the visions of fighting during their childhood.
Tanna, Robin, Zella, and Dover are in a fight for their lives. The Tales must save them. They must find hope in their fear. A dream of survival. Nothing will be the same afterwards. Their world will be forever changed.
The Fourth Gen Grandmother’s Words:
Trails 3: Trails Through the Tales
The woman smiled as she pulled his (the grandfather’s) head down to her lap. “So do I. The young hear the tales, and occasionally chose the wrong person as their hero. Occasionally, the evil ones are so embellished the listeners are confused. They must re-live the wars of gens past. If for nothing more than to keep the specter of war, and its consequences, ever present in the memory of the living.”
The grandmother touched Tanna’s hand. The hand, which held hers, was tough and pliable as leather, shaking, yet with a firm grip. “Granddaughter, if you lose all trust in the people you know, he, and his followers, win!” The old woman pointed a crooked finger towards Orid.
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