♚ P R O L O G U E ♚

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"We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, never to be undone." - William James
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Two brilliant steeds raced from the palace's stables, navigating every possible route to safety. Their riders, under the safety of their cloaks, ducked below low wooden beams and dodged protruding torches in the narrow stone tunnels. The pair were blanketed in pale, grey light as they sped out of the passageways toward the marble outer walls.

"LOWER THE GATE!"

"DON'T LET THEM ESCAPE."

The iron gate began to descend from its holder as guards readied their bows. Arrows flew from the castle's regal stone towers while dozens of armor-ladled bodies filled the courtyard and the rapidly shrinking exit. Their hands reached in attempts to latch onto the fugitives, like ivy clinging to a tree.

Calloused fingers pulled at one of the rider's cloaks, narrowly missing the precious cargo in her arms. The mass of fabric unlatched and flew from its owner, revealing a head of flowing red-tinted golden hair.

The fugitives urged their horses to move faster as they sped under the gate, the spikes just barely grazing the top of the second rider's head. They flew past frightened vendors as they sped from the marketplace outside of the castle and across the stone bridge that connected to the surrounding town.

The chestnut stallions weaved through villagers in the crowded cobblestone streets as the soldiers' shouts grew closer. They tore through the maze of alleyways and backstreets in an attempt to put as much distance between them and the guards as possible.

The two horses galloped past the grand city gates before the ground turned to beaten earth and patches of grass. Civilization faded away as a mountain of emerald loomed in front of them. The riders' views were engulfed in green as ancient trees towered above them. They veered their steeds off of the worn dirt and into the untamed wilderness. Branches jutted out into their path, nicking at their horses and clothes as they ventured deeper into the forest.

In the distance, a rushing river flowed downstream towards a shaded valley where, hidden by thick walls of ivy, a dilapidated cottage sat nestled into a mighty tree. The duo steered their horses down the slope and dismounted them the second they reached the cabin. With one firm pat on their sides, the horses took off into the woods.

The pair hesitantly approached the mossy door and pounded on the worn wood in a varied pattern. The door slowly opened to reveal an older woman with striking amethyst eyes and dirty blonde, greying hair draped in a taupe cloak. She hurried the two inside before locking the thick oak door.

"We haven't much time," the man said, carefully taking off his cloak to not further startle the bundled infant he was holding.

"Is everything ready?" the golden-haired woman asked as she soothed a second crying baby in her arms.

The older woman nodded, her pained smile revealing her dread for the future. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It isn't safe for them here. She will do everything in her power to find them," the man said.

"I'll give you a moment to say goodbye, then."

The young mother held the baby in her arms closer to her chest, looking at her husband who stared into the hazel eyes of the swaddled newborn encased in his own warm embrace.

The man placed a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead. "Until we meet again, my love."

As the older woman placed an aged basket cushioned with blankets on the rotted table, the dirt floor began to hum.

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