Prologue

The morning dawned and cast its light through the window of the former Apostle's bedchambers, the beams reflecting through the stained glass image at the front of her bed. Begnion was rubbing the sleep from its eyes and awakening to another day of political machinations, lying, betraying, living, and dying.

Sigrun sat at the end of the Empress' large bed, watching the young woman as she slept, her hair lifting slightly with every sleeping breath. Sanaki, the little girl who had led her people through two wars, had grown into a woman attempting to become capable of uniting a people even without the authority of the goddess. It had been seven years since the war with Ashera, and nine years since the Mad King's War. These seven long years had drifted past without full scale war; seven slow, godless years of rebuilding and political maneuverings at the hands of the new rulers of Tellius. Elincia still ruled Crimea, now with King Geoffrey at her side, and the nation was thriving as it had not in decades. Rumors still swirled of unruly bands of brigands looting around the outskirts of the nation, but such things couldn't be helped. Sigrun had heard that the Lady Lucia and the silver-tongued Bastion were also wedded, and that the former Greil mercenary Oscar had returned to Crimea's knights as a commander. Gallia, under the reign of King Skrimir, had retreated to licking its wounds and had not issued any significant contact with the outside world, other than to sign a few treaties binding it to amiable relations with the rest of the war-weary continent. She had not heard from the beast members of the former liberation army.

Built among the restored forest of Serenes, the new bird kingdom grew constantly, feeding on the ever growing migration of birds from across the continent as they slowly made the decision to unite as one. King Tibarn sent his chief diplomat, the former king of Kilvas, across Tellius to every nation, forming alliances and forging friendships. He was scheduled to arrive in Begnion in just a few days, Sigrun remembered. Daein, while not in bad shape by any means, struggled more than the other nations. Rebels still committed the occasional murder despite Queen Micaiah and King Sothe's fervent efforts to stem the tide of unrest. Pelleas, once paraded as the lost son of King Ashnard, was revealed as a fake, and yet served the queen along with the great general Tauroneo on her small council. Tellius was slowly, uneasily, yet surely preparing for those legendary thousand years of peace and plenty. No one wanted another war, especially not after suffering from two in less than three years.

Today would mark yet another day of Sanaki's training in the difficult art of riding pegasi. Sigrun had protested, pointing out the dangers in an untrained rider taking flight, but the stubborn young leader continued in her efforts.

"A leader must be seen by her people, and what better way than to fly over everything on a Pegasus?" she had said when Sigrun had expressed her misgivings.

"I understand what you're saying, but you have to understand the risk involved. We can't afford to lose you to an accident. Pegasi are unpredictable until they've been properly broken in."

Sigrun's attempts to guard her empress against the dangers of flight fell on deaf ears, and eventually she gave up. She knew the young woman too well to truly expect her to back down from such a challenge merely because it was dangerous. Begnion's welfare and its people were always first in her mind, always put above everything else in Sanaki's life. Sigrun wondered if some nights she longed for a lover; she had once asked Sigrun pointedly if she was pretty. Of course, her faithful knight had told her she was, and meant it too, but that had not seemed to assuage her.

Lost in her thoughts, Sigrun almost failed to see the young empress awaken. "Good morning, Sigrun. Can we ride today?"

Sigrun saw the towering marble buildings of Sienne, a sight made no less glorious by its ever increasing frequency. The delight on Sanaki's face gave the entire experience a new aura, a memory akin to teaching a lesson to one's own child. Sigrun knew she was wedded to duty and would most likely not take a husband. So this girl, no, this woman, would be her child, her daughter, to raise and protect.

"Look, Sigrun, I think I've gotten a good grasp on flight," Sanaki said, snapping the reins and causing the Pegasus to alight a few feet higher.

Impressed, Sigrun laughed as the Empress' Pegasus whinnied with glee.

"Good job, Sanaki! Just be careful…"

Within half an hour the two had flew over a nearby forest. They circled lower to get a glimpse at animal life from the vantage point of the sky. Sigrun had insisted that the animals were too far away for Beorc eyes, but again Sanaki would not be dissuaded. With a flick of the reins, Sanaki's mount took her closer to the tops of the trees, in front of a small clearing.

"See, I was right, there's nothing wrong with –"

Sanaki's retort turned into a shriek as her Pegasus plummeted downward, an arrow through its neck. Her knight's instincts activating, Sigrun forced her mount down in an attempt to fly underneath the empress and somehow rescue her from whoever was shooting at them. Mere seconds later, a blur flew from the corner of Sigrun's vision and impaled her own Pegasus in the chest, sending her falling as well. No longer able to assist her empress, she held tightly to her dying companion, the wind whipping her hair across her face and bringing tears to her eyes. She prayed; to whom, she had no idea, but she prayed all the same. For her life, for Sanaki's life. She would not fail this girl, this nation. The ground rushed up to meet her. Pain like none she had ever experienced forced its way through her body moments after the sickening crack and thud of her fallen mount. She screamed, grunting as she put a hand to her chest, where several bones were most likely broken. She turned around, still lying on the ground, and began to drag herself forward.

"No…no no no no..no no no" she whimpered. Sanaki's body lay crumpled, entwined in the corpse of her Pegasus. Her arms were bent ways that no living person could manage, and her head was covered in blood.

Another whisper in the forest and Sigrun fell back, an arrow poking through her breast. She spat blood, and tried to push herself up with her elbow. Branches snapped, grass parted, and the archer emerged from the bushes. Silently, she heard the bow stretch taut. Another arrow thudded into her, and she fell. Vision swimming with shadows and blood, she looked up at her killer as the bow tightened again. Red hair. The arrow flew, faster than her thoughts.