The tale of Aurelia Hawthorne is anything but simple. Faced with the horrors and reality of living in a nation that hides secrets and punishes children for the sins of their parents, she is forced to make difficult choices.
Especially ones that str...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"Everyone gets scared. That's what makes life worth living, don't you think? Or maybe I'm just crazy. Probably the first, knowing me."
—Recovered correspondence from cadet Sawyer Henrick to squad leader Aurelia Hawthorne
The fireplace crackles, unusually warm for Navarrian Winter. Outside Hawthorne Manor, the rebellion rages on, never stilling for more than a few hours every few days. Last Aurelia had heard, Fen Riorson had been trying to establish the city of Aretia.
Letters between Xaden, Garrick, and Aurelia had become scarce, turned nonexistent ever since they had realised their messages were being intercepted by Lieutenant Sorrengail—an anti-rebellion advocate and mother of the recently perished Brennan Sorrengail.
She had yet to hear from them for a little over a year. Aurelia nursed a mug of tea in her hands as she sat with her legs in front of her on a couch in The Great Room. There was a black-inked quill tucked behind her ear, where it usually resided as she looked over correspondent letters and old battle plans, writing annotations into perfecting strategies or re-arranging words to make them sound more convincing.
Although Aurelia knew she was going to be a rider—ever since Governor Riorson had spoken to her all those months ago, she knew she wanted to eventually rise to leadership.
If there even was any by the time this war ended.
Leadership meant being respected, and for that, she needed to prove she could handle any ruthless task thrown her way—especially the Rider's Quadrant.
Tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear, Aurelia frowned at the slightly-wrinkled parchment. She wasn't necessarily helping the rebellion—her father would never condone that, but the two of them had been known to pass "innocent" information to General Riorson and his Lieutenant whenever they happened to cross paths.
Using Aurelia's interest in battle strategy, Governor Riorson had taken it upon himself to tutor her in the subject, often allowing her to watch their rebellion meetings in secret in order to gain more experience. She felt herself learning more in these past few months than she would have in a decade. Much could be said about Fen Riorson, but he did care about his family—even non-blood. This rebellion was done with good intent, but Aurelia was beginning to wonder if it would stay that way. She knew better than anyone how power could corrupt one's soul.
What was that saying?
Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Aurelia continued to scan the document, pausing slightly at Governor Riorson's signature on the bottom of the page. She checked the date.
This wasn't right.
By this time, this letter would have been over a month old. Her father had just received it a few days ago. It was unmistakable. The date. A letter this old wouldn't be in circulation. Coronel Hawthorne was instructed to burn all messages within three days of receiving them.
