It was a cool, autumn evening, in the village of Bylyn. It was all but quiet, in the streets. People bustled around, shopping, greeting each other, enjoying a meal together. You could hear the hooves of horses, the voices of people, the celebration of life all the way in the outskirts of town. There lay a small, humble cottage, made of stone, and a big wooden door, that creaked when it opened. Inside, it was much the same, nothing too fancy, nothing even of fine silver. The most expensive thing was the silverware, crafted of iron, and there it sat in a closed drawer, waiting for it's next use. However, it wouldn't be used in awhile, for there was far more important events occurring in this home. A woman was laying on a bed, husband crouched beside her, and a midwife stood, hovering over. Pain flashed across the woman's face, and beads of sweat poured down the sides of her cheeks. Soon, a small child would take its first breath. The soon-to-be parents had no idea, that this child would bring to the kingdom to its knees. Little did they know that as the years went on, and their new baby girl grew, so would the kingdom, in corruption. Little did they realize that the streets their daughter played upon in her early years, would crumble. That this house they they loved, would alight in flames. Thoughts of fear were far from the people in this home, as their child stifled its first cry, and surely not it's last. The mother's smile covered most of her face, as she gazed at her new born. The father went to fetch a glass of water, and never truly took his eyes off the precious girl that had been brought to him. "Fiammetta" the mother mumbled, softly. "Thats her name. Fiammetta Rhiannon."
"That is the most perfect name. It suits her." The father spoke, placing the cup of cool water into the hand of his wife. She glanced at him gratefully, slowing sipping down the liquid. For that single moment, everything was perfect. The mothers eyes were so full of love and admiration, tears escaped her."Our little fire queen," she whispered. And for the first time, the baby smiled.
YOU ARE READING
The Queen of The Nameless
Teen FictionKill me if you must, but I shall not bow down to a king who wears a crown studded with jewels for every life he ends. On the ashes of the kingdom, I stand. Even if you try to knock us down, kill us, whip us, torture us, end us, you cannot. Why? Beca...