Ivory Throne

This was a future which had been predicted, one avoided, haphazardly prevented by those who knew naught of the destruction they would create.

Mare has lived her lie for a decade, a blade tempered by thoughts of a future she could cut a path towards.

Maven sits atop his treacherous throne, twisted and mangled by the touch of the crown that was never meant for him- growing more volatile as the days continue on.

Cal is dead, or so they say.

And the scarlet guard waits patiently for the dawn to rise