Prologue

My name is Karoleah Gregory. I write this record with the hope that future generations will learn from what we have done. I am the leader of a group that many call a resistance, but I call it hope. We are under the thumb of a tyrannical government that is being led by my uncle; a man that many refer to as a God, but I see as an abomination.

I was never meant to lead anything in my life. My father was a great king with five strapping sons already vying for a claim in a peaceful kingdom. The trouble began when my father married my mother, a woman that many saw as a whore and a temptress. He was so much in love with his second wife that he was blind to the hatred that was already brewing in his brother's soul. I was born from that union, the only child before the war began and times got hard.

As my family died, I rose from ashes with an understanding that I was meant for greatness. We call ourselves Veritas after the greatest leader that this resistance has ever known. I see a bright future among the villages that are still standing in peace, among the people who have never given up hope, and in the eyes of the next generation as they watch us march onward.

I am a soldier in a war that was begun, in part, by my birth. I fight for what I know is right and against the darkness that is forever closing in. We live in the light and hope for the dawn, knowing that another day above ground is better then one below.

If you are reading this now, we were either victorious or slaughtered, but no matter the outcome, this record will remain a testament to our fight. I have entrusted a dear friend to write this story and it is my hope that it will survive.

Be well, reader. Be hopeful. Be proud.

Karoleah Annalucia Gregory, Princess Royale

Gerald glanced up as he heard the bells from the tower ringing in the midday sun. It was already sweltering in the palace, but it promised to give way to a cool evening. It was enough time to change into his robes before heading to the council meeting. Placing the weathered book beneath his arm, he moved from the library, nodding at the guard that stood outside the door and started down the stone corridor.

He already knew the story contained in the book very well, but it was one he would never tire of. It told of adventure and love; hatred and greed; death and destruction; and, ultimately, the foundation of the society that he served today. The princess's letter that had been carefully placed in the front was covered in blood, the rusty stains still vivid on the stark vellum. He could almost imagine how it had gotten there.

The kingdom was still on the brink of war; a terrible toll taken upon it by so many years of fighting. The council did more fighting than it did advising the King on matters of the state and he knew that he could have time to lose himself in the book he'd chosen. They never called on him anyway; he thought with a laugh as he moved into his chambers and quickly changed into his robes. It seemed to be a perk of being the youngest member of the King's council: no experience and no need to say anything.

Hurrying through the hallways, not looking the guards in the eye, he slipped easily enough into the council's chambers, taking his seat near the back with the other younger members, watching as the eldest among them vied for the seats closest to the king's chair. It seemed that he was late again, the already boiling heat adding the irritation felt by almost every member that the King seemed to keep them on his very whim, controlling them and toying with them. He was a powerful man and an equally powerful soldier, not someone that Gerald felt the need to mess with by criticizing.

Glancing around, he pulled the book into his lap and opened to the letter once more, reading it again for good measure. A smile was on his pale lips as he turned the page and saw the familiar, flowing handwriting. As he heard the King's attendant announce his presence, Gerald lost himself in the story.

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