The world is chaos. It’s neither fair nor sensible. It wrongs heroes and breeds scums. It is rife with ugliness without a trace of beauty. The malice of the world shall be sundered
By the villain. -- Anon Guest
The Thrice-Sworn was coming. Not yet a King, but the Prophecies called him one. Those in the palaces were terrified of him. Whispers abounded, and Anika couldn't believe half of them.
Won his title in blood. Bearer of a curse. Some said he came in the night like a shadow and struck down the wicked.
Anika had been told she was wicked from the day she could understand what wicked was. So there was no doubt at all that this dark demon lord of the distant mountains would be coming for her. After all, she was an orphan brat, doomed and destined to breed only more orphan brats. Her only hope of partial redemption was birthing more soldiers for the cause.
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