Prolouge

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THE ROOM WAS ILLUMINATED BY PASTEL BLUES AND VIBRANT LIGHTS, AND AT THE TALLEST PART OF THE ROOM SAT A GIRL SURROUNDED BY WOLVES. SHE WAS DRESSED IN THE FINEST FABRICS AND DRESSED TO IMITATE ROYALTY.

The girl however was no queen. She couldn't walk the halls of her castle unhindered by the weight of her crown. The girl wasn't well versed in the art of proper etiquette and the art of walking delicately with the world at the bottom of her feet.

No, the girl was no queen. Queens weren't controlled. Queens weren't tortured. And the girl who stood at the bottom of the stairs surrounded by wolves was both of those.

Warriors however, were all these things and more. They were the foundation of the kingdoms and the source of the stories told to children. They were more than fighters. They were the symbols of hope and the defenders of the empire.

Yes, the girl was no queen, but she was a warrior.

THE BOY WAS SURROUNDED BY FLAMES.

He stood beside a throne that looked down at the kingdom he had built. The boy however was no king. He couldn't shoulder the responsibility that was set on his shoulders. He wasn't fierce, or caring or wise. He was none of these things. He was tortured, brainwashed, and chained. Kings weren't those things. The crown was too heavy for him to wear. He was weak.

He wasn't a warrior either.

He couldn't stand at the bottom of the throne and watch people feed off his hard work. He couldn't go through the coldest war for a king who wouldn't ever learn his name. He wasn't selfless.

He was a survivor. And he'd do whatever it took to keep it that way.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 17, 2020 ⏰

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