THERE WAS A LEGEND in the Kingdom, a story that the poor women especially loved to tell. It varied with every telling, as most stories do; some parts were embellished in some tellings while others were left out entirely. But, in all the ways that mattered, the story was the same.

Once, there was a beautiful young girl. She lived on the outskirts of the House of Earth, and she belonged to one of the richer families in the poorest sector there. And the girl was beautiful, almost painfully so, with eyes that were a shade between lavender and blue. Some claimed that she was blessed by Pallas, the goddess of beauty and love. Others said that was nonsense, that a poor girl from the House of Earth had no business being blessed by the gods. But the girl was beautiful and several suitors clamored for her attention.

The girl was named Evangeline, and she was not in charge of her own destiny; her father would dictate who she was to marry. But Evangeline had a secret, and that secret was that she had no interest in any of the men that attempted to woo her over. There was something wrong with her, in that sense, and Evangeline was so ashamed that she never told anyone.

But when she was seventeen years old, spending one of her last days by the Lyria-blessed lake before her father married her off to a man, Evangeline met a girl that she had never seen before. The girl was bathing in the lake, turquoise water the only form of clothing that she wore, and her dark hair absorbed all the light from the bright Sun.

And, as the story unashamedly admits, Evangeline could not look away.

The girl with black hair noticed Evangeline's stubborn gaze after some time, and the girl smiled at her, finally exiting the body of water. And she approached Evangeline, completely naked.

"Hello," the girl purred, unashamed of her nude state, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you."

The girl was named Moira, and she was of the House of Wind. Though it was uncommon to venture to other Houses, it was not entirely unheard of. But Moira wasn't just visiting; her parents had sent her to the House of Earth to be a servant.

"Not that I mind," Moira was quick to add, "it's just that my talents could be better used elsewhere."

It was strange, the new feelings Evangeline felt in Moira's presence. It was embarrassing, almost; she had just met Moira, and she was already in love.

But it wasn't until their third meeting, this time in the woods far behind Evangeline's house, that Moira sealed their fate with a passionate, desperate kiss. And they continued that way for months, stolen moments wherever they could manage. It grew from kisses to touches to something more, something that left Evangeline craving more.

It was only a matter of time before everyone else found out about their love.

This is where the story differs in its telling; some say that a jealous suitor had followed Evangeline into the woods and saw the kiss. Others claimed that she had told her parents, and they had disowned her in the middle of the town square. Even others said that Evangeline had admitted her sins to the High Priestess. But no matter how it happened, every telling is the story agreed that the High Priestess found out.

One night, with the Moon full in a cloudless sky, Evangeline was dragged from her house by the people she once considered friends, family. They dragged her to the Temple, deaf to her shouts of protest. Moira was there, too, her presence drawing a crowd. Everyone was aware of the beautiful new Wind that had taken residence in a rich Earth's house as a servant, and everyone was excited to find what she had been faulted with.

Evangeline, still shouting, fell silent at the sight of her lover forced onto her knees, wrists bound with shackles behind her back. Moira's eyes grew wide and desperate when she saw Evangeline.

The High Priestess was there, the whiteness of her robes harsh in the night illuminated by torches. Her gaze was cold and unforgiving as stone, and Evangeline felt impossibly small in front of her. She wasn't granted her own shackles, but rather was forced into her knees by the three men holding her down.

Evangeline had never been a reckless person, nor a particularly courageous one. But she raised her head high and met the cold Priestess' glare, forcing every inch of hatred into her eyes.

"You have sinned," was what the Priestess said, her eyes crafted from contempt and holy divinity, "and no god will ever forgive you."

Evangeline glanced at Moira, at her beautiful lover, and watched as she launched a glob of spit at the High Priestess.

The Priestess' eyes ignited, but she continued with her eloquent speech. "Evangeline of Earth, you have been spared from damnation at the request and begging of your parents. But you will be stripped of your title and disowned, sentenced to a life of isolation."

Evangeline merely glanced at Moira, who smiled with fear glowing in her eyes. That was all the bravery that Evangeline needed.

"Moira of Wind," continued the Priestess, "you have not been spared from damnation, for you have no one to save you. I prayed for Hellas to curse you, but even she is too disgusted by your actions."

Moira raised her chin, all guts and glory, and said, "and what actions would those be?"

Evangeline laughed out loud, drawing the anger from the crowd around them. But Moira was grinning, and that was all that mattered.

But the Priestess found no humor in the matter. "Your disgusting relation with another woman," she sneered, "is both illegal and immoral, something that even Hellas, the feared goddess of death and destruction, cannot punish harshly enough. Fortunately, Dione, goddess of wild things, has given me a solution."

There was only time for a quick glance before Moira was shoved forwards, resting merely inches away from the High Priestess. The Priestess raised a hand, and the air grew tense with an unearthly presence.

"You are no longer Moira," the High Priestess said, her voice laced with iron and venom, "you are a disgrace, you are nameless, you are nothing. You are a monster, and a monster you shall become."

Panic settled over Evangeline, but it was too late. The air grew thick with an otherworldly presence. The Priestess was determined and ruthless, but it wasn't until Moira began to scream that Evangeline truly learned what it meant to be afraid.

Within minutes, Moira had changed. Dark, nightmarish wings had sprouted from her back, hanging limply on the ground. Moira's face was contorted in shock and pain, and the wings gave a jerk as the girl cried.

"No!" Evangeline shouted, but the Priestess paid her no attention.

With a flick of the Priestess' wrist, several men stalked forwards, each holding a blade of some form. Evangeline screamed, and tried to escape the grip of her captors, but to no avail. They had to pin down Moira, her wings splashed awkwardly beneath her, to bring the blades to her scalp.

They shaved her beautiful, long black hair until her head was bleeding.

Evangeline was sobbing, and so was Moira, but no one cared. The House of Earth grew silent as the High Priestess descended the steps of the Temple and approached the two broken women. "Leave this place, monster," she said, addressing Moira, "and never return."

Moira snarled, lunging forward. Her chains held her hands behind her back, but her new wings framed her figure and Evangeline's lover lifted several inches off the ground. The audience gasped and screamed, but Evangeline could only watch in awe as the clawed tips of Moira's wings broke through the chains of the shackles like they were nothing. There wasn't time for any last words (or curses) before Moira took the air and dived at the Priestess, her clawed wings shredding the High Priestess' throat.

When she landed, wings and freshly shaven head dripping in blood, Moira faced Evangeline. And there was no horror there, no sign of her being scared of ashamed. Only a fierce love that never stood down or was afraid.

Moira approached Evangeline, and the men pinning her down stumbled back to release her. Moira caught her, and Evangeline's lips found hers. But there was no time, and Moira's arms wrapped around Evangeline, and they flew away from the House and the people in it.

And they fled to the woods, the only place where they had ever been safe. The howls of distant wolves accompanied them. They flew and ran and fled, never once looking back.

And they stayed in the woods, happy and free to be together. Dione blessed them, not only with Moira's wings, but with the protection of all things wild. Nothing could harm them.

In time, more girls fled to the woods, seeking the protection of Moira and Evangeline, finding courage in their love and story. And soon, they formed a small band of outcasts. Banded together by isolation, by survival, by distrust of everyone who had hurt them. They became lethal, sometimes marching into villages because of a report of violence towards a child or woman. Their skill in weaponry, due to their newfound need to hunt for survival, rivaled even the most powerful Warrior.

Some believe that they're still living out there, still hunting for vengeance. That if you venture too far into the woods, you might run into them. Depending on who you were, they would either take you in or kill you.

That's when the story ends. No official ending, just a glimpse of happiness after a lot of hell. But, for some reason, that story was Arabella's favorite. Ever since she was a young girl, that was the story she always requested for her mother to tell. And even after both her parents died, Arabella loved that story. And even after she was trained to become a Warrior, trained to protect the Queenling, she loved that story. And even after Arabella understood the complexity that was Nova, the powerful Flame Queenling, she loved that story.

But it wasn't until her and Nova's lips connected for the first time when they were both fourteen that Arabella fully understood why Moira killed the Priestess, and why Evangeline was never afraid of her.

Arabella was a Warrior, a Flame, a threat to be reckoned with. Nova was a Queen, a Flame, a chaotic burning that would never cease. They were meant to spend the rest of their lives together, but not in the way that either of them wanted. Arabella was to protect Nova in all cases, even if it meant laying down her own life.

Arabella wouldn't have it any other way.