Chapter 1

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Hello, it's me again! I'm happy to be back with another Divergent story, this time a fairy tale AU. I decided to give you this first chapter as a little teaser now, cause I'm just excited to share this with you. Once I've written further ahead, I'm going to start posting on a weekly schedule, hopefully in December. Thanks to everyone who reads and for leaving votes if you like this story. Love to hear from you in the comments, or pm me if you like.

Enjoy!

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Once upon a time there was a land blessed with everything its people could wish for. The summers were warm, yet not too hot, and the winters were mild, yet not too cold. The rain falling from the skies was enough to make plants grow and rivers flow while it never drowned the sun.

The land belonged to a king who lived in a castle on a single steep hill in the middle of the kingdom with his wife and his son. He reigned over his people with kindness, but showed little mercy against thieves and tramps or anyone else who tried to destroy the peace that had settled on these grounds many generations ago.

Around the castle, the land was plain and wide. From up there, the king could see the four roads that led from his stronghold to the four provinces that formed the main part of his kingdom.

To the North, there was the land of the Abnegation, where people led a simple life. They were humble and generous and used to share the little that they had with those who had even less.

To the East, there was the land of the Amity, where the air was humming with peace and harmony. Its people were joyous and open, and they used to sing the most appealing melodies and hum the most vivid tunes while they worked the land.

To the South, there was the land of the Erudite, where the wisdom of the kingdom was gathered and stored away in a library made of glass. For the people who lived there, this building was the center of their admiration, for it guarded a treasure that had been growing here for centuries, and that they contributed to with their hard work.

To the West, there was the land of the Candor, where truth was worth more than any amount of gold and silver. The faith in the purifying powers of honesty was their strongest belief, and they helped the king to look for dishonesty in the people he ruled over.

But all around these provinces ran a mountain range, high and difficult to access, that formed the fifth province called Dauntless, shaped like a ring around the entire kingdom. Only the bravest and the strongest possessed the expertise and the skill to walk the steep paths that led over swinging bridges or along narrow cliffs. They hunted the thieves and scoundrels that tried to hide in their mountains, and took them to the underground prison that lay below the king's castle.

They also guarded the kingdom from outside dangers. Nobody knew what was out there, for there was nothing but desert on the other side of the mountains. There were rumors and legends about frightening animals and terrifying monsters that haunted the desert and every once in a while tried to find their way into the peaceful grounds. But nobody could ever bring forth reliable evidence of their existence.

Right in between the Dauntless mountains and the desert ran a natural border. It was a chasm so deep and dark that one couldn't see down to its ground even if one stood right at the edge and looked straight down in the middle of the day. No ray of sunshine had ever touched the river that was rushing in the abyss, so it could only ever be heard by those who dared to set their feet close enough. Its waters were said to be jinxed, for the river had no source and no mouth. Some even doubted it existed at all and said the sound came from the souls of the dead crying down below in the eternal darkness of the chasm.

While the king held control over the four provinces around his castle, he could never be entirely sure about what was going on in the mountains. But since he and his dominion depended on the Dauntless soldiers, he had learned to live with the situation, and the collaboration between the five provinces had been good ever since the kingdom was founded.

The optimists used to say that they complemented each other, while the pessimists used to say that they depended too much on each other.

It was the king who tied them all together and took care of their unity, like his fathers and grandfathers had done before him, and like his son and grandsons would do after his time on the throne had passed.

Or so he thought. But little did he know that just like every song comes to an end, like every day is chased away by the night, the peace in his kingdom was meant to end.

It was a lovely day in spring, the flowers bloomed and a gentle breeze rustled the delicate leaves on the trees, when the queen died.

The very same day, it started to snow, and after that, it never stopped.

Over the years, people forgot what warmth was like, as the cold was so deep it pushed the memories of gentle and sunny days far away where nobody could find them.

Instead, the cold consumed their hearts, like it had obsessed the king's and his son's: Shaken with grief over the loss of their beloved wife and mother, people said, they had lost all love and hope, and that their laughter had died forever with the queen. The coldness of their hearts, people said, went so deep that even the strongest sun couldn't warm them up anymore. And so, people said, the sun had slipped away, defeated, to a warmer place, where it didn't have to be afraid of a never-ending winter's iciness.

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DISCLAIMER: I own neither the Divergent world nor the characters, they belong to Veronica Roth.

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