What happens if hope is a mere illusion? If a life spent in what could only be described as safety, is suddenly thrown into a war of immeasurable proportion, does it survive? Can you adapt well enough, quickly enough, to make it out alive?
These thoughts, not dared to be spoken, haunt the minds of the royals of Niyr. Can they tame their own hearts enough to lead not only their country, but their world, into a time of peace? Or will they be destroyed by their own flames of passion?
When hope seems at all loss, not even existent, is faith enough? Faith in what, if it can save you then?
Find out, in the chapters to follow.
[Author's note: This is an ongoing story, but due to life circumstances, chapters may be far and few between. I will not give up on this. But, please be patient. Leave comments, advice or corrections as you wish. However, please don't blast anything intentionally rude or crude. Thanks.]
