Before Winter, before Primoria

I - Tell me a story

"Tell me a story from before".

Meir looked up, in front of him, little Aaliyah was looking at him with wide eyes, expectative, curious.

He was sat in a bench just outside Jannuari's palace, the lights inside were still on, the guards of Cordell were marching in front of the main gate. He had been there, watching, for a few hours, passing through burning cold images of how Winter used to look in the deepest part of his mind.

He was just becoming an adult when Angra's soldiers killed their beloved Queen Hannah, he used to be one of her guards, and when he knew the fate of his ruler, and of the magic she had with her, Meir had to suppress the urge to cry, for he needed to be strong for Hannah and for Winter.

Old Meir, some of the winterians called him, well, he was not that old, but the slavery had left many scars on his skin, a couple of paled white strings in his head, and several wrinkles in his face.

He smiled and tried to remember one of the stories he liked to tell at Abril's camp.

"Once, in Jannuari's palace..."

"No, no", Aaliyah interrumped, "a story from before Winter."

Meir fixed his eyes in Aaliyah, she was only ten, and yet, she was amazingly clever.

"You want to hear a story from before Primoria was what like?" He asked, smiling. Aaliyah nodded, opening her eyes wide.

"Then listen carefully, little Winterian, for before the chasm even formed, existed in this land creatures made of magic itself."

"It sounds like a fairytale." Aaliyah comented.

"Primoria is a fairytale."