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" CHAPTER ONE "
Once upon a time, when horses were still used as means of transport and revenges run around the streets like pestilence, trapped between soaring mountains, there was a flourishing land made of ice and mysterious people; Glacies. What were once the remains of a destroyed and ancient temple turned into an almighty empire, led by an ambitious and noble King alongside his loyal wife. The people that populated their land were faithful, obedient and kindhearted. They respected the laws and were always brave, ready to trade their lives for the land's benefit. Nevertheless, with every powerful bloodline, stood ominously an enemy.
Ardor: the land of fire. Guided only by the presence of a young and fearless Queen, Ardor was Glacies's worst enemy. A land known for its ferocious army, it lied at the bottom of a long extinguished volcano, the people's dwellings made with nothing but dark rocks that had been formed with the burning lava. The Queen's ominous castle rose on top of the highest cliff, a crimson red and yellow flag proudly waving from the top.
Bad blood has always run between the two ancestries, the war lasting more than hundreds of years and making millions of victims.
On a cold day of January, where winter never left, the Queen of Glacies looked out onto the immense amount of ice across and below her. Gloved hands rested upon the icy railing of her bedroom's balcony, she thought about what was about to happen: dying bravely on a battle against Ardor's army, her husband would be buried on the land's cemetery under meters of cold snow. It pained her; not having said goodbye to Nivis. He had been a great King, kind to his people, and a good example for his soldiers, who looked up at him and saw him as their true hero. Now that she was a widow and with no heir on her womb, she was sure counsellors of the Assembly and the commanders would shamelessly put her under pressure, advising her that it would be smart to find another husband. As if marrying another man would be that simple.
Queen Taylor was a woman full of ambitions, driven by the only desire of making her people happy and not suffer under someone else's power. Her golden hair reflected the faint light of the sun above, the eyes as cold as the ice of her land. Plump lips had kissed the most humble of men and have never spoken lies nor insanities. Being tall was one of her qualities, and despite being an admirable warrior who had fought countless of battles, her hands were petite and neat, her pale skin soft to the touch and incredibly delicate. Taylor's appearance was very different from Ardor's Queen, who's name she recalled was Karlie. She had never seen her firsthand, but if the portraits did her enough justice, Karlie looked as intimidating as she had imagined. Brunette hair cascaded over a lean back, covered only by dark fur and prestigious clothing. A long neck led to acute features; sharp cheekbones underlined burning green eyes, and thin rosy lips lied below a bottom nose. The last painting Taylor had seen of the other Queen had been a while ago; perhaps three or four years prior. Karlie had been depicted wearing a royal dark cloak, sat on an invisible stool, with a pearl necklace complementing her collarbones. She had been holding her silver helmet, a steely stare intimidating whoever would look at the picture; anyone but Taylor. On the contrary, the blonde woman had felt encouraged and challenged by those eyes, and she recalled straightening her posture when she had been standing in front of the portray.
