#nonsanctus

"…Alright, Ezra, go on then…"

ƒøɾ τhατ сhïlḋ вεсαυṡε ï—

                            јυṡτ сαṉ’τ ṡταṉḋ вεïṉģ ïḋlε ïṉ lαṃεṉτ.

Ezra Johnson; defined: The Demigod of Disloyalty who raps out revenge tragedies.

In a parallel universe, where no interactions with the Gods above existed - hell even prior to the time of the birth of her illegitimate child, sat a young girl whose womanhood was only beginning. Her eyes were bright as the blue sky that covered Gaia. They were filled with hope for the days to come - never did she guess she'd be diverting from this path to become a wise woman in a lonely cottage deep within the woods. A blue rose was proudly adorned in her hair. Many times she was scolded by her parents about being lady like and respectable nevertheless that never did show. Even around the other noble girls her age, she was known to be the ugly duckling - in a sense.

Unlike the others, she had more tomboyish qualities. Instead of studying, like all of the good little noble girls she thirsted for adventures. When called for lessons, she had hidden herself within the trees with a book. She sighed, long fully wishing for a fairytale prince to pick her up and gallop away from this tower she called home. Little did she know she would - but at the cost of her dignity.

 Her best friend, Anneliese had been a far better role model in the respect of noble girls. Refined, dignified - a prestigious and perfect daughter for her household. Someone that Therese respected greatly.

Therese von Ludowing, the sole heirness of the House of Landgraf. Who practiced swordplay as well as fought with noble boys with it. The clock was ticking away from her eighteenth birthday - the year where her life would fall apart.

With a huff, Therese swung her sword about - practicing with it. There was a crunch of some leaves, and her blade immediately met face to face with some stranger. She was already angry with being beaten; it was a huge blow to her ego.

SWISH.

"Who are you?"