prologue; to live or not to live

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"Life is not measured by the amount of breaths you take,
but the amount of breaths you take away."

prologue
to live or not to live.

1069, N.E,

Briallen's lips parted slightly at the view. Up ahead was an enormous castle; though unlike pure gold, there was a very dull shine which barely reflected the grey skies. The castle was surrounded by wheat fields, which swayed in a way that one could almost point out every individual strand of wheat. Briallen was seated on a firm magenta seat, a luxury apart from what she was used to. The palace could be seen from her bared window situated in the back of the glass carriage, even from afar, the castle was stunning. Briallen felt anxious, her eyes darting out from the carriage's small window, it was now that she would meet a king. Briallen bit her lip, wringing her clammy hands, she remembered hearing about the protocol which was to take place. She would be judged by the court, and if she seemed worthy- then she had a chance to live.

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