Prologue ( which translates to “Teaser” which translates to “I am evil” )

Well, here’s the first little bit from My-Story-That-Doesn’t-Currently-Have-A-Title. I hope you enjoy!


A fire flickered in the grate, slowly dying, barely lighting the small room. The one window set in the wall let in no light, for its wooden shutters were closed against the impending dark. Although two chairs sat close to the fire, the only to occupants of the dim room stood. They faced each other, faces partially shadowed, neither speaking as a tense silence filled the room.

“Well.” The taller, a sturdy young man with neatly cut dark hair and the haunted eyes of a soldier finally broke the silence. “I suppose it is time.”

The other, a slim young woman with long silvery blonde hair and a regal bearing sighed, but nodded.

“It appears so.”

They continued to stand there, facing each other in awkward silence. Gritting her teeth, the young woman lifted her head in defiant resolve, then made her way over to a table sitting in the shadows of the room. Folded carefully atop it was a heavy, dark cloak.

Lifting it off the table, she draped it over her shoulders, pulling the hood up.

“…Are you sure?” The young man’s question, though anticipated, seemed to irritate the now cloaked girl.

“Of course.” She snapped, her voice suddenly growing harsh. “Nothing else will work.”

“All the same-” He started.

The young woman whirled, eyes ablaze with a barely contained fire that she rarely showed to others. Reflexively, instinctively, the young man drew back, afraid of her fury.

“What would you have me do?” She asked, glaring. “What-”

“Skyren.” He said, voice quiet. “Skyren, it’s alright.”

The young woman scowled at the sound of her name, then sighed, stepping back, raised hands limply dropping to her sides.

“Don’t call me that.” She finally said. Skyren lifted tired eyes to gaze at the young man. “And please, don’t abject. You know that this is the only way.”

“There can always be another way.”

Skyren stared at him.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say something as painfully forced and optimistic as that again.”

“With your current plan, that won’t even be able to happen, since we’ll never see each other again.” The young man frowned.

Skyren just nodded, pulling the cloak tighter about herself and making her way towards the window. She thrust open the wooden shutters, letting a beam of moonlight shine across the room. Lifting her head, the young woman smiled for the first time in many weeks. The moonlight seemed to weave into her hair, and she swayed, as if listening to a tune that no one else could hear.

“If only everyone could see you like this.” The man’s voice was quiet. “They would be so less likely to condemn you.”

Skyren turned from the window, quirking an eyebrow.

“Do you really believe it is so? You think learning that their incredible, but now apparently evil, warrior queen was as practitioner of the musical arts would make people less likely to consider me a beast?”

The man fidgeted.

“Not that. If they could see you in your element. At peace. Not angry, fearsome, or leading a charge into battle. At peace.”

Skyren shrugged, turning back to the window.

“Where will you go?”

“There is a secret vale, in the heart of my -” she caught herself. “In the heart of the kingdom. It has food, shelter, and water. I shall live there.”

The man nodded, then stretched out his arm, letting out a strange call. Skyren jumped back from the window just as a large bird soared in, landing on the man’s arm with a large flapping of wings.

“Take him with you.” He said, holding out his arm and allowing the bird to fly to Skyren. “His name is Tarik. He can hunt, send messages, and serve almost any other function you need.”

Skyren paused, taken by surprised. The young man was known for his incredibly well trained eagles, which he gave to very few.

“I… thank you.” She finally managed.

The man nodded.

“Stay safe, Skyren.”

She flinched once more at her name.

“I will do my best.” She promised. “Please, protect my kingdom.” She looked into his brown eyes with a serious intensity. “Do a better job than I, Daniel.”

She held his gaze for one minute longer, then leaped out of the window, cloak fluttering, humming a soft tune that seemed to actually soften her landing. As soon as she hit the ground, Skyren started running at an ambitious pace, Daniel’s eagle soaring above her.

Daniel stood at the window, watching until the small figure faded into the darkness. Then he turned to begin the large project bestowed upon him.

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