❝ 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...
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destiny arise
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FIRE BLED AWAY INTO morning, fear evanesced with birdsong from the window ajar, and the comfort of her home replaced the landscape of thorns alight; a dreamland maze from which her subconscious could not flee, no matter how desperately she tried. Sleep, once a thing of sanctuary, was now well on its way to becoming a thing of torment instead. For someone who craved sleep as much as she, the monstrous shift was one Aurora Tyndale despised from the bottom of her heart, but it certainly gifted her a newfound appreciation for the vapidity of her daily life.
Once upon a time her soul hungered for the life of a worldwide wanderess; waking morning after morning to another day in the same place had been a seemingly perpetual disappointment. All she had ever known dwelt within the borders of the great Camelot and the wanderess she so desired to emulate often found it rather dull. It was the reason she would spent endless hours lost in the written word and any form of art she could reach, bringing about the color her monochrome reality lacked through volumes of myths, legends, maps and fairytales. Aurora had grown up since then and as the disappointment faded with the passage of time, she came to find peace and contentment with her life's simplicity.
A gentle knock disrupted the silence, and as a head of tawny curls peaked through the doorway, those lingering thoughts were fleetingly shadowed. "Just waking up, are we?"
"Tragically."
Their bond marveled many, for though she and Francis Tyndale were no more than cousins by law, they regarded one another as blood siblings would. It was all fun and games, done completely in love when they would bicker and torment the other as brothers and sisters were born to do. Occasionally, much to the annoyance of those around them, they may have gone a little far beyond the scope than most siblings dared, but that was simply who they were and who they would always be.
The floor creaked under his weight as he stepped into the dimly lit room, and if his hair alone wasn't enough basis for an assumption, his nightclothes-clad body helped her to gather that he'd just risen for the day as well. Her brows furrowed at the sight, for he was usually gone long before her. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have a forge to run?"
