Crown

Sikagon-Birth

Regardless of your place in history, the soft warmth of dawn often brings with it, hope.

Hope that feels unbreakable.

Hope that births happiness.

However, this story doesn't begin with dawn's hope. Rather, it begins with the silence of dusk.

Thousands of years ago there existed a world originally known as Aruma Ditallu. It was a land of vibrant diversity where many different species and races resided but, they were always at odds with each other. In this land there lived a king. He was a ruthless tyrant, obsessed with power. His wife Kishar was the previous ruler, but upon marrying him, he quickly stole the power for himself. Kishar did not love him. She was forced to marry him for the sake of her kingdom and she was far from happy about it.

It was safe to say, the King didn't care much for Kishar either. After all, he had already gotten what he wanted from her.

One night, as she lay in bed beside him, she was stirred awake by a gentle wind. It ghosted over her slim frame, sending sending shivers down her spine. Her eyes fluttered open and above her she saw deep golden orbs that stared intently into her ruby ones. The possibility that the man hovering at her bedside may be an assassin did not strike her. There was something about him that told her otherwise. For some reason she felt so serene. She knew that these eyes meant her no harm.

"Who are you?" She whispered, careful not to wake her husband from his slumber.

His otherworldly eyes flickered and for a moment he was silent. Her calm disposition seemed to catch him off guard.

"Me?" He said in a low, silky voice. "I...suppose you could say I'm an angel to some and a demon to others."

"Have you come to save me?" Kishar found it hard to mask the excitement in her voice.

"Save you...hmm...from what?" He leaned in, allowing her to see more of his features.

From his pale skin to the scar across his face. His long silver hair draped over her as he propped himself up, effectively caging her between his arm and the King.

"If you are what you say you are, then you come to offer guidance to those in need." Kishar was a bit confused as to why she had to explain this to him but she did it regardless.

The man laughed. Her words held an air of innocence but her eyes lacked the childish incorruption that should accompany it. This intrigued him. "No. I am an angel of death. I've come to take your soul."

Kishar was a fairly young woman of only twenty five years of age but ever since birth she had a weak constitution. She always believed she would die young, it was one of the reasons she rushed into her marriage. She thought for a moment, her mind imediatley wandering to her five year old son Zicu. She understood and had long since accepted her fate, but she still feared for Zicu's future and the kingdom under the rule of her husband.

"I will go with you but please....this land needs a light. These people need someone to pull them through these dark times. Please help them."

The man looked deep into her eyes. Kishar's genuine character touched him and so he agreed to her request. This was the first of many decisions that would one day change the world.