[Pretentious and horrible/heavy very short story follows!]

A mothers love can be a terrible thing. A wretched being that should never have seen the light of day, that should never have drawn breath... should've been ended as soon as it began. She knew her duty to the world - and she failed it.

Only she knows if she regretted her actions, but she did pay the price for them. A blade in the night and the mothers blood soaked the bed, and thus the last and only one who knew the secret died quietly. No one ever found the assassin that was blamed for her senseless killing, but her death opened the way for the "grief-stricken" heiress to take the family name...

Now, there's a rot at the border of the empire. Festering, growing in darkness and secrecy. None the wiser that the fate of many, many living souls hangs in the balance. Barely fathomable focus holds back a fate that for all of history was assumed to be guaranteed.

But what if that focus ever slips? Can destiny truly be denied?



Finally, a piece of Arya smiling! If you see this, the time to run was a few days ago. Sorry.

Tell me how much the story insists upon itself. >:3

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