From The Nature of Elemental Possession by Albemarian Historian Quilliam Degus
—Dated 1102 ASf
Our sovereign rulers have been possessed by the elements of fire, water, earth or air over eight generations of geomages. Each firstborn Leonesse has wielded their Grand Bane not only to defend Albemar, but also to enrich her in times of peace.
Thus Queen Angelinde revolutionized Albemar's irrigation systems with her water geomagy, while her grandson King Matal established a magnificent smithy that tamed his fire geomagy to forge tools from rare metal alloys that have never rusted nor edges dulled.
But the Ninth Geomage, Crown Princess Snow White, disrupts this blessing of the elements in the Leonesse line with her aberrant cold. Frostbite is a weapon only, a crop killer and breath stealer that erodes Albemar's borders from within with an unnatural winter. What purpose lies behind the ice blight running through her veins?
Excerpt from the Diary of Crown Princess Snow White —1111 ASf
Nana always scolds me for throwing my apples away after just one bite, and Micah laughs when I used them for archery practice. No one can possibly understand how much I loathe apples—just the scent of them makes my throat tighten and gag, and my stomach roil and twist like a nest of serpents. Every time I see the bright red skin of an apple I think of Queen Rosavere, and the strange fruit she bit in the Wildershade that carried geomagy in its juice. I wish she'd spit the sweet mouthful out, because now I am the one who must choke on her apple's poison as I fight the creep of ice crystals lacing my fingernails every single day . . . .
On the closure of the Mines of Kadith, Final Foreman's Report —1083 ASf
There are still rich veins of gold to be tapped, I warrant. But even deeper veins of lucidium run through these mines. The farther my men dig into the bedrock of the Wildershade, the faster they all fall spell to Silver Fever. We can't mine any deeper without the toxic silver taint eating into our minds.
Some of the men even whisper that they can hear the stones cry, screaming for us to stop with each strike of a pickaxe. We aren't welcome here; mayhap we never were. No one can pry treasures from these dark pits anymore—except, perhaps, those with the blasted luck of the Leonesse.
*SONG: "The Orb" by Steven O'Brien
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A Fair Account of the Traitors Snow White and Rose Red
FantasyNo one hates Snow White more than her younger half sister, Rosavere. Not since a star broke the world a thousand years ago and cursed humans with Grand Banes--powers never meant to be theirs--has there been a more traitorous tale. Snow murdered thei...
