Before (3rd POV)

"'May your son be powerful and strong, but I curse him a heart made of steel that only the truest can break."'

Natalie of the Human World said the words aloud, comforted by the fact that she was alone in the Palace Library. It was spring, the season of growth and life, where flowers blossomed and the sun shone brightly in the pale blue sky. Once, there had been no spring; nor summer nor autumn. Once, the place she'd come to call home had been a wasteland of snow and ice.

Gazing out of the window, she was glad to see that winter had now completely left. Where a few weeks ago ice had still clung to the earth, the early stages of greenery had taken its place. She found herself sighing with relief. Winter always had been a hard one for her to bear, alongside many others who inhabited the land.

Turning from the window, unconsciously grasping hold of the rose necklace hanging from her throat, Natalie repeated the words a second time. It had been three years since she'd first been told them, and yet she hadn't forgotten. She would never forget.

Somewhere in the palace, her son lived and breathed; something she'd once believed impossible. Many years ago, his life had been in jeopardy. Well, at least she'd believed it had been. Turns out, his life was valuable, but in all the wrong ways. It is said that he had immense powers, powers that if placed in the wrong hands, could be twisted into something terrible.

Natalie intended to keep her son safe. She'd done it before. She would do it again.

Taking a seat at one of the many tables, she plucked up the quill and wrote without hesitation, "Dear Marla..." Meanwhile, an army was building. One seeking power and revenge.

--
(17 years later)

I like to think that everything happens for a reason. That just because something didn't work out, doesn't mean I've failed in some kind of tragic way. I try and tell myself this now, seated across from Arden Fell, my longtime friend and recent lover.

Arden, brown haired and on the verge of growing a beard (it didn't suit him), shrugged in that way boys do when they're uncomfortable. "Look, CC. I just think that what we had before... Well it was good, wasn't it?

I folded my arms onto the kitchen table- his kitchen table, in his very own tent. He'd moved into his own just that past winter, claiming that now that he was eighteen, it was unacceptable to live with his parents. I'd encouraged him, only to now be faced with the overwhelming desire to burn it all to the ground.

"Our friendship was crazy good, wouldn't you agree? And I'd hate to ruin something so good, you get me?"

It took a lot of self-control not to roll my eyes. He sounded like an even bigger idiot than he actually was; if that was even possible.

"Not to mention," he went on. "You'll be off doing other things soon and I just don't know where I fit into all of that." For the first time since I'd come here, Arden actually looked a little crestfallen. "I'll miss you Claire, as a friend should do. But I don't think I can bear missing you as anything more than that."

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. To give a little background, I'd had a fat crush on Arden from a very early age. Despite the fact that he was dumber than a plank of wood and spoke as if he were suffering from brain trauma, I'd always envisioned us ending up together. Because here, in this tribe, love was no small thing. But did I ever really love him? Nevertheless, I'd confessed my feelings to him at a drunken party, where we'd 'made-out' behind one of the tents. Although, there'd been more stumbling than actual kissing. Ever since then, we'd become a sort of 'thing', however nothing had ever been official. I'd actually come here today with the hopes of him asking me to be his girlfriend.

"Thank you for being honest with me," I managed to say, smiling tightly.

Arden blew out a sigh of relief. "Still friends?" He grinned up at me as I stood from the table, planning on leaving.

In that moment, I had the overpowering desire to cry. I pushed through it, however, and said, "Still friends" before walking out, my heart feeling colder than the ice that had recently melted across the land.

--
Crossing The Great Bridge, I gazed across to the mountains in the distance. Unlike the rest of the land, they were covered in thick layers of snow due to the freezing temperatures so high up. Before I'd been born, this bridge hadn't existed. In fact, the majority of my home hadn't existed. My people had once had a different name, but now we were known as The Salvaged Tribe, named after Natalie of the human world herself.

The human world, whatever the hell that was. No one had really been inclined to tell me, but I knew that the Queen was unlike us, in ways that are left unknown until tested.

When I arrive home, I don't bother saying hello, instead going straight up to my room. Once King Valentino and Queen Natalie had left the tribe eighteen years ago, after two long years of building it back up to its original greatness prior to the Ancient Battle, my family had been granted a large Manor House across the river. It is said that it was due to my parents' involvement in the battle, but I knew it had more to do with my mothers close friendship with the Queen.

Throwing down my rucksack, I flopped onto the bed, drawing my knees up to my chest in a way of shutting myself out for the world around me. Perhaps if I told myself I didn't really care about the split with Arden, then I wouldn't. But it didn't work that way, did it?

Just then, the bedroom door opened. I sat up, glad that I hadn't actually let any tears shed when I found my mother in the doorway. Marla, leader of the Salvaged Tribe, folded her arms and frowned, red hair greying at the roots.

"How come you're back so early?" She demanded. "I thought you were going to visit Lucille?"

Lucille, my best friend and daughter of the  great sorceress Kadence. Usually, whenever I visited Lucie, I stayed for much longer than an hour. But I couldn't exactly tell my mother I was with Arden, for she didn't know that Arden meant anything to me. She didn't even know we were friends; couldn't know, for he had a reputation more dangerous than the peaks of those mountains I'd passed and she'd surely kill me.

"I just needed to borrow something." I lied, rummaging through my bag in the hopes she'd think I was busy and just leave.

"Well, what did you borrow?"

I looked up and sighed. "Really, mum? Does it really matter?"

Marla had never lived down her reputation for determination and cruelty. Not even when it came to her own daughter. When I was six, I accidentally broke a boy's arm during training. When the boy told my mother, who'd  been overseeing the training at the time, she'd encouraged him to break my arm right back. He wasn't able to, especially with his own injury, but still. When I'd asked her why she'd tell him to do such a thing, she'd replied, "In a real fight Claire, winning won't be as easy as breaking someone's arm. You hurt them and they'll only hurt you ten times worse. Besides, Arden Fell couldn't snap a twig with those gangly arms."

It had seemed incredibly harsh at the time. And it was, don't get me wrong. But without that harshness, I would be nowhere near the warrior I was today. In the same respect I suppose, I'd have had a comforting and nurturing childhood, something I was most definitely robbed from having.

My mother didn't look happy. Regardless, she dropped the subject and asked, 'Have you spoken to your father yet?"

I sighed, standing from the bed. "I don't really see the point." Turning my back to my mother, I began rummaging through my drawer, avoiding having to look her in the eyes.

"He's your father, Claire- '

"He's not!" I yelled, slamming the drawer closed. My breathing was heavy, as if I'd just ran a mile. I felt tears prick my eyes again, only they had nothing to do with my dick of an ex.

The door closed. I released a sigh of relief. Marla had never been very good at emotional parenting. I'd learned from an early age that Marla, fearless and brave leader of the Salvaged Tribe, was actually a phoney.

For, how could you be fearless when nothing scared you more than crying?

Pressing my fingertips into my eye sockets, I returned to the comforts of my bed and fell into a restless sleep, my dreams filled with all the different ways I could make Arden Fell bleed.

Long time no see ;)

-K