Chapter 7 - The Shadow over the Borderlands
Far to the north, beyond the fertile valleys and the glittering towers of Aurelion, the Stone Wastes stretched out like an endless expanse of gray desolation.
Selene trudged through the abrasive dust, her torn silver silk dragging in the dirt, her delicate slippers ruined by miles of sharp gravel. The biting wind whipped her dark hair across her face, carrying the bitter cold of an approaching winter storm. There were no guards walking beside her now—only the harsh reality of her isolation.
She collapsed onto a jagged boulder, her breath coming in ragged, freezing gasps. Her hands, once accustomed to holding velvet and gold, were blistered and bleeding from the harsh earth.
"This isn't the end," she whispered to the empty, howling wind, her eyes burning with a manic, unyielding hatred. "They think a crown and a bird can protect them. But power belongs to those who take it."
As if in answer to her vow, the shadows around her shifted.
From the gloom of a nearby ravine, a towering figure emerged, clad in heavy, blackened armor inlaid with jagged runes of dark iron. It was General Vorn, the exiled commander of the northern mercenary clans, a man whispered of only in frightening nursery tales across the southern kingdoms.
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"You speak with a fierce tongue for someone so broken, little princess," Vorn rumbled, his voice like grinding stones.
Selene did not flinch. She looked up at the warlord, a cold, desperate smile slowly twisting her lips. "I can give you Aurelion. Every gate, every treasure, every tower. All I ask in return is an army."
