❝ The future was yet to be written, uncertain in every way except one: there will be fire.
When the dawn closed her eyes, she awoke in flames-a hellfire inferno burning as leaves on briar-thicket trees. A forest of thorns alight. A vision of the fut...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
the dark impetus
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
TWINING LAMBENT THROUGH STARRY skies, auroral glory painted the night. With that jade and violet blaze came the dawn of a life long awaited by many. A princess worth waiting for—her parents' greatest treasure, whose eyes of wonder shone more radiant than the heavens under which she had been born.
It was a gospel truth, the queen of the realm would admit, that it felt as if a thousand and one lifetimes had passed since she felt so unequivocally at home in the world—since her family, as to benefit them, compelled her along a matrimonial path entirely of their choosing—but when Queen Solveig gazed into those eyes of newborn stars, all she felt was peace.
Her joy was one shared with their capital city and every heart within Gimlé's borders, and such effervescence amid cobblestone streets was so unlike anything the land had ever seen. Every day since their daughter's birth had been declared a celebration of sorts, crescendoing further until the day of her naming ceremony—a longstanding tradition in which she would be christened before the eyes of God and man, and like all from which she descended, given a name as future sovereign before the people.
At long last, the day had come.
Vim and vigor set the city alight, filled to the brim with Gimlé's own provincials and visitors from lands near and far—both of high and low estate, all making way to the citadel of snow-white stone so that they might pay homage to the child and celebrate the esteemed rulers' fairytale come true. But as they would learn by night's end, not all who crossed the threshold sought such benevolence.
Familiar faces bright with smiles—among the many, kings, queens and heirs of Gawant, Camelot and Nemeth—stood out amidst the bustling assembly and to see such felicity within the walls of their home brought one similar to Solveig's lips; if only every corner of the world could perpetually banish strife and hate to oblivion so that it could always be just like this. Such a world was all she could ever want for her child, and taking notice to the gleam in her husband's eyes, she knew he felt the same.
