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❝ Oh Lord, oh Lord, what do I do? I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you He's raised on the edge of the Devil's Backbone Oh, I just wanna take him home. ❞
— DEVIL'S BACKBONE, THE CIVIL WARS
FEYRE BLANCHARD'S dreams always started and ended the same; with her, bow and arrow in hand, while she fought a stranger whose face she could not see. Then it ended with their sharp blade going through her gut, twisting her insides, coating the cool metal with her blood as she gasped for breath. Feyre would drop to the ground and die in the arms of the person who will become her undoing. And then she would awake, drenched in a cold sweat, tears sticking to her warm cheeks.
Feyre died in every single version of her twisted dream. A fate she could not escape.
When the young fourteen year old girl confronted her mother about her strange and harrowing dreams, Rosalind Blanchard went quiet for a moment. She left the room. Feyre could've sworn she heard her mother crying on the other side of her bedroom door. And when the woman entered the room once more, she packed a bag for Feyre and took her to a hillside where an old tree stood tall in the distance.
Rosalind sat in the tall grass with her daughter for a few minutes. She explained to Feyre that she wasn't like most kids her age. She was far more special. And that was when Feyre discovered the stories were real — the ones about the Greek Gods she heard so much about as a child — they were real. And Feyre was known as a Demigod, half human, half God. Her mother then explained she would be safe far away from home, living in a camp amongst other children who were just like her.
So Feyre bid her mother farewell, unbeknownst to the young girl that it may be the last time they ever saw each other.
And with the knowledge that her dreams may have some true to them, Feyre built up walls so high that no one could possibly climb over them. Someone would be responsible for her death someday. She wouldn't leave any stone unturned. If she could avoid the prophecy playing over and over in her slumber, she would. That was until she met a boy. A boy who gave Feyre a reason to trust again. Who broke her walls down and let the light back in.
