Welcome to Briteland, the lost British Isle, last known country of magic.
Chosen at birth as one of five members of the Queen's Guard, the young knight Galavere has spent all seventeen years of her life training to protect the kingdom's reigning mo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Five young knights on horseback charged across a cold clear field at dawn. Hearts pounding and hair flying behind them like banners of war, the sun glinted against the silver of their blades as each girl drew her sword.
"For Briteland," Galavere cried out, raising an armoured fist above her head, blood rushing with the excitement of the moment.
"For the Queen!" came the booming response from her compatriots. These were the Queen's Guard, five girls chosen at birth seventeen years ago, sworn to protect their monarch as long as they could lift a sword to defend her.
The enemy cowered before Galavere and the rest of the knights. Slice, rip, split, blast. Galavere caught the acrid smell of a spell, turning just in time to see it shooting forth from the shortest girl atop a speckled pony. Their foe's heads hit the ground with a sickening thud one after another. Together, the Queen's Guard cheered, then laughed.
"Sorry I killed your boyfriend Winny!" shouted Cressida back to the girl on the pony, the straw sparring dummies strewn lifelessly on the ground beneath them. Galavere looked back towards Winny, Briteland's castle silhouetted behind her. The clear sun peeking up from behind the tall white marble spires made Galavere's heart rise. The castle and its settlement lay at the banks of the kingdom's famed Violet Lake, couched amongst the tall mountain peaks that opened up into a vast network of river passes. The white reif-fruit trees that dotted the landscape were in early spring bloom, and Galavere's homeland had never looked more beautiful.
"It's not a boy, Cressida. Sir Billy is an important tool for training!" Winny huffed as she circled the largest dummy wearing an old fashioned plumed helmet atop its straw head. Her pony, knowing his work was done, immediately bent his nose to eat and happily chomped away on the fallen reif-fruit petals while Winny yanked on the reins to no avail.
"Good form all, and nice casting Winny," Galavere announced to the other four as she dismounted from her black mare and shook the stiffness out of her short blonde mane.
"Queen Imogen isn't watching Galavere, you can spare us the show." Cressida jeered, and tossed her own dark curly locks in an imitation of her friend. Galavere's cheeks flushed, and her heart raced. Cressida's teasing had hit a nerve, for it was true: Galavere had been in love with the Queen she was sworn to serve for as long as she could remember. The other girls knew about her adoration.
What they didn't know about was the affair.
Galavere self-consciously picked up one of the sparring dummy's heads and kicked it like a ball onto the morning field, unable to think of anything witty to say in response to Cressida's remark. Luckily, Tamorah, Cressida's acute and decidedly alpha twin sister, came to her defence.
"At least Galavere's trying to impress someone worth impressing. Don't think we haven't noticed how much you paint your cheeks every time we have a meeting with Lord frowny face Kiril. Maybe if you keep it up you'll finally bed the hottest virgin in Briteland. I'll never understand what you see in that bastard."
