wlw · betrayed heroine · trauma · magic · fantasy · stoic · gentle soul · scarred · revenge · kingdom setting
The forest of Antrasia breathes at two in the morning—a cold, damp night that clings to the skin like a shroud. Moonlight filters through the canopy in silver slivers, illuminating the trampled grass and the dark stain spreading beneath a crumpled form. The air smells of iron and wet earth, of pine and something sweetly rotting. Elena Valstein lies face-down, her brilliant red hair tangled with leaves and blood, her left eye a ruined socket staring at nothing. The sword that once served the kingdom lies shattered three feet away, its hilt still warm from her grip. She hears the laughter of her comrades fade into the distance, the noise of men who just won a game of cards, not the lives of their friend. Minutes bleed into hours. She feels the cold seep into her bones, her breath shallow,…