Prologue - The Stranger

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[Name] flexed her fingers, feeling as her golden ring decorated with glistering emeralds - reminding of the green and vast forests occupying the west of Terrasen - tightened against her skin. Or at least she did partly. She struggled to determine if the metal was cold or hot. Not due to sensory deprivation, but rather because she did not care enough to dwell on it longer than necessary.

Empty

Her gaze wandered between the velvety green plants and the vibrant flowers draping the long rows of smooth, hexagonal pillars, the bushes of leaves and shiny strings arching from pillar to pillar across the spacious throne room – a constant reminder of the staggering beauty of the land outside of the walls suffocating her.

[Name] rested her head against her hand, allowing her eyes to fixate on a particularly pretty flower of velvety red petals and a golden stem– a gift from the emperor and empress from a land of sand and dunes. A second passed, and once more her eyes had wandered between grandiose golden doors with guards stationed on its very corner and glimmering pastel colours of yellow, pink and blue befalling the small rectangular pool from the sun hitting the glass dome roof from above.

Breathtaking. Yet not a single emotion flared within her. Had she grown used to the sound of waterfalls cascading into pools of clear blue, and shimmers of light illuminating the space as they entered through the various floor-to-ceiling windows of the walls, and the sense of tranquillity that the nature around her gave? No. Of course not.

It is after all her kingdom, and seated on that very throne was no other than the ruler of this land of pine and snow, of sun-bleached cliffs and white-capped seas, a land where light was swallowed in the velvety green of bumps and hollows; [Name] Ashryver Galathynius.

Dead

The queen was far from a fool. She was fully aware of the whispers and gossip spreading beyond the palace walls and to the outside world. She had not been blind to the apparent wary glances shot in her direction from concerned court members and tense guards. And she had absolutely not been deaf to the biting of tongues, and nervous laughs that erupted from those around her as a memory of her past was brought up. Accidentally or not.

However, aside from the obvious body language exhibited by those surrounding her, she had heard them speak of her. Whether it be whispers or tales from people close to her, or a damn drunkard that ravaged a bar in a land far away; they all repeated the very same words.

Oh, the young and beautiful Queen of Terrasen, whose skills could rival the greatest of warriors, and yet, her eyes - oh, god, those gorgeous turquoise eyes ringed with gold - reflect such sorrow; such anguish and guilt, that it could bring the most miserable of men to tears.

What a pity.

Though she was not one to care about people's opinions of her, especially those who viewed her with pitied eyes, she had to admit that perhaps there was a segment of truth to those rumours. She prided herself in her ability to not show the world the burning and thrashing and biting whirlwind of emotions within her – always threatening to tear her apart. But there were rare occasions – moments in which she lost herself to that sorrow and grief – when vivid flickers of the past would reflect in her eyes. At least, [Name] hoped them to be rare.

She should, after all, be content – happy, dare she even say. Not only had they stood victorious after the war threatening to envelop the world in an era of darkness and evil, but she had also reclaimed her once-fallen kingdom. Her home. The home she had fled from at the mere age of eight to survive the invasion of Adarlan – the neighbouring country. She had fled, forsaking her people, running past all the bloodied corpses of her citizens and loved ones – so she could have a chance of surviving.

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