Once.
There was a woman.
The woman, the sorceress, was named Areti.
A name of the Old Language.
For no one knew the meaning of her name.
The people of the town, not far away, speculated of what her name meant.
And the people of the town thought that Sorcery was a form of Wicked.
And Areti never knew of this gossip.
But what was a fact, unlike the rumours, is that she lived in a Tower, hidden deep in the forest.
Not one path led to this Tower.
The Tower was made of the deepest obsidian on one half of the great Tower.
On the half that showed.
The other half was made of the purest marble.
The marble was of the hidden side, inlaid in the stone cliff apon which the Tower was build into.
And Areti loved her Tower.
No one except for one person, other than Areti, of course, knew what side she favored.
Keep all of this in mind.
YOU ARE READING
The Two of Virtue and Wicked
FantasyThis is a long lost tale, of the Sorceress, Areti, and her daughter, Kakos. Names of the forgotten language. This, my child, is also a story of heartbreak, betrayal, lost love, misguidance. The Tale of Wicked, and Virtue.
