Story warning: Contains some violence torture situations, and a more gritty and darker in parts. Sexual content in some chapters.
Prologue
Sitting in the warm sun Princess chewed meditatively on the tip of her pencil, thinking over the quote carved into the stone, tracing the deep lines with her fingers, the coolness of the stone couldn't diminish the warmth flooding into her soul as she carved the words on the rock into her memory.
It reflected a lot of what she'd sacrificed, and a deep meaning touching her soul from the sentiment.
"Memories, how precious they are, the good and the bad." She whispered to birds singing in the trees. Her eyes swept around the forest, a cool breeze moved her hair. Golden sunlight with hints touched her toes, contrasting the coolness of her stone seat beneath her. Touching the soft folds of her gown, kicking off her shoes. She wanted to write about her feelings in that moment.
She'd been asked to write her story of the last years of the war, a shadow writer was wanting to make a novel out of their experiences. There were talks of an action movie.
She'd seen the series and the articles, watched the debates about the team. All of it portrayed them as heroes. The truth was reduced to a children's TV show for 8AM viewing. She barely recognized herself in them, and none of mission held anything familiar. Basic recollections of events told in a way to entertain and make money, then reflect the truth.
Putting down her pencil, she put her hand on the carved rock beside her. It's cold surface chilly, her fingers tracing the smooth edges of the rune. Would anyone really want to know the truth? She picked up her notebook and stared at the blank pages. Where to begin?