A gust of wind presses harshly against the castle walls, as the darkening sky prepares itself for the oncoming snow. Silvered clouds begin to dim the throne room of the twin heirs of the throne, Empress Farrah and Empress Avery of the Taergoria Royalhood. They sit together like they do every night, discussing changes taking place on the land, any laws that still needed to be agreed upon, and most currently, the annual Taergorian Christmas Celebration happening in the following weeks.

“Farrah, no one is willing to come all the way from Moesbrey to bring cheese,” Avery asserts. “By the time they would arrive, it would be riddled with maggots and the stench of Hades. Which would be an improvement on its taste.”

“If we offered to reward them more than the typical costs, I assure you someone would be willing to get it here quickly,” Farrah replies. “Besides, their Royalhood could use the gold and they could stay for the festivities. There isn’t a loss for anyone!”

“There’s a loss for the poor soul having to bring it. I don’t think anyone would be willing to miss the holiday with their loved ones just to make a delivery.” “Ok, well what about your onyx owls? How is that worth the expense and time of delivery?”

“Those owls are set to arrive before the event and can’t spoil! Are you truly comparing such a majestic species to cheese?”

“Well, I happen to find that cheese quite majestic.” The boisterous laughter of the two ripples through the throne room. The guards near the entrance try not to glance at one another as the two Empresses erupt.

“Can I tell you something?” Farrah asks. Avery wipes the tears of laughter from her eyes and looks up at her sister. She doesn’t answer, as the answer has never been needed. Farrah continues. “I have never liked these festivals. Ever since mother and father would subject us to having to endure them year after year. They seem to be quite pointless to me.”

“I’m sort of fond of them,” Avery replies. “I think they are a lovely excuse for us to join together as a Royalhood and be merry. Heaven knows there’s plenty to be miserable about.”

“I suppose you’re right. But if we did things right, as a Royalhood, we wouldn’t need such a silly holiday to be merry.”

“Let the people have their fun, Farrah. If nothing else, the children seem to have a pleasant time.”

“If they’re anything like we were, they’re sneaking away to have a go at the bottle of cherry wine they stole from one of the merchants too drunk to know their head from their ass. That’s the only thing that got me through after a while.”

“Do you recall when that chasm dweller caught us? He was frozen stiff seeing two of the Royalhood’s heir children drunk in an alley. Do you think he ever said anything to anyone?”

“He was too scared to speak a word of it,” Farrah laughed. “No one would believe him anyway.”

“I remember the full moon that night like it was just yesterday,” Avery replies.

“I’m quite sure it was a crescent moon. That is my favorite phase.”

“That night was the biggest moon I had ever seen. It was almost upon us!”

“No, you’re mistaken, my dear sister.”

The playful squabbling is interrupted as rapid footsteps are heard approaching the throne room. The two sat up in their thrones as their guards shifted to attack. The steps eventually reach the room and a hard banging echo pulses into the ears of everyone inside. “Your Highnesses! Your Highnesses!” a voice yells through the other side of the door. “I have an urgent message for you! From a distant Royalhood!” The guards look back for direction from the Empresses.

“Allow him in,” Avery commands. One guard steps aside while the other opens the throne room doors. A scrawny young man barges in. He is covered in sweat, even in the chilling weather. The man seems to be in his mid-20s with baggy disheveled clothing that looks like he has found them somewhere. He has long dark hair matted to his forehead that he wipes away as he exhaustingly approaches the throne. Along with him is a royal attendant, escorting him to the throne room.

“Your Highnesses,” the attendant says, “This young man has a message to present” The man nods behind him.

“Your Highnesses,” he bursts forth from his lungs, dropping onto his knees in front of the Empresses. “Rise. State your message,” Farrah demands. The young man leaps to his feet at her words. “Your Highnesses, I have word from the Kaslo Royalhood. A message of war.” Farrah and Avery stiffen in their thrones, peering into the man standing in front of them. “War?” Farrah asks. “On what grounds?”

The man shuffles around in his pocket until he pulls out a wrinkled piece of folded paper. It is sopped in sweat, but the man is somehow still able to make out what it states. His trembling hand unfolds the sheet. “The Kaslo Royalhood seeks to expand their land, making their current area a secondary land, while overtaking the Taergoria Royalhood to occupy it as their primary inhabitance. The Taergoria Royalhood is to be overtaken before the Christmas Celebration. Occupancy is set to be before the end of the year.”

Farrah let out a hefty breath of air and sinks into her throne. Avery looks at her and then quickly back at the young man. “Thank you for your message. Please, take the night to refresh in the guest chambers before your trip back in the morning.” She then looks at the attendant. “See to it that this young man is taken care of.” The attendant nods and leads the man out of the room. Looking over at Farrah once more, it is evident she is distraught at the news. Avery motions for the guards to exit the throne room.

“Sister,” Avery begs. “You mustn’t fret. We will find a way to get through this.”

“Find a way to get through this?” Farrah asks

mockingly. “How do you suppose we do that, Avery? Did

you recognize the name of the attacking Royalhood?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Then you know this isn’t something we can ‘get through’! We are doomed! Their army is as vast as the seas! As many as the sands of the desert. We have only a fraction of the warriors and lack the training for such a battle!”

“Farrah, still yourself. We only need to think.”

Farrah stands from her throne and throws her scepter to her side. She storms out of a side entrance of the throne room, leaving Avery to herself. Tears of fear and frustration quickly trail down her face blurring her vision. Farrah bursts through the doors to an outdoors to the rear of the castle. Her heavy crown tumbles to the ground and rolls away from her as she collapses and weeps over a cold stone seat just outside the castle.

The thought of losing the entire Royalhood overwhelms Farrah. She recalls the nights of her youth when she laid awake while her mother and father defended the land from enemies trying to rip it from them. She recalls the joy she had when her parents returned home to her and Avery, telling them that they conquered the attacking warriors and saved the land. Those moments give her the courage she and Avery need when they have to fight their own battles. But nothing prepared them for what they were about to face.

Everything her family had fought for is soon to be taken from them in only a few weeks. Crippling fear numbs Farrah. None of her parent’s words she could think of seemed to bring her any peace. In a desperate attempt for solace, Farrah clinches her freezing hands together and begs the sky for an answer. “Please,” Farrah pleads. “Please Lord, have mercy on us! On this land! We have done nothing to bring this upon us! Please grant us Your graces!”

A slight shuffle in the quiet snow breaks Farrah from her prayer. She looks around in the open area, searching for its source. Suddenly, the crown that fell from her head gently rolls back to her from behind the bush it had fallen next to. Farrah gasps, backing away from the approaching headpiece. Before Farrah could react further, a soft still voice comes forth from in front of her.

“What brings you such sorrow, your Highness?” the voice asks. Its gentle beauty is low, bellowing underneath the Empress. Farrah quickly stands to her feet. She pushes aside her panic and looks to the sky.

“Lord, is that you?” Farrah questions.

“In ways,” the voice replies with an audible smile.

Farrah starts back toward the door of the castle. Her heavy breaths lift above her in puffs as she scrambles to the entrance. “Wait,” the voice calls out. “I wish to help.” Farrah stops at the door, weighing her thoughts for a decision. Before she can decide, the voice bargains once more. “If I reveal myself, will you remain here? I only wish to make you victorious in your battle.”

The words that the voice spoke turn Empress Farrah around before she has time to verify their validity.

“How do you intend to do this? How do you know of the battle I anguish over?” Farrah asks.

“Come,” the voice replies.

Instantly, the snow on the stone bench is swept off in preparation for Farrah to sit. She slowly inches toward the bench, waving her hand over it before sitting. Before she can utter another question, a large being began to manifest in front of her. It is handsome, seemingly made of marble, and has the eyes of a gentleman. However, it wasn’t a man of any sort. The being kneels on one knee in front of Farrah but still towers over her. He is like a living statue to her.

The peculiar look on its face strikes fear in Farrah’s heart. The being seems to pick up on this. “Do not be alarmed, Your Highness. I come before you only as a servant.” Its slight grin is as if it is sculpted on its face at that moment and retracts just as quickly. “The upcoming battle that will overtake this land. There is not much time before everything you have will belong to the Kaslo Royalhood.”

Farrah twinges as the words were spoken by the being. “But fear not, Your Highness,” says the being. “I have known this land for quite some time. I wish for it to belong to you. I offer help.”

“Our warriors are not many. And untrained for battle of such magnitude. What help are you prepared to offer that would fill such a vast void?” Farrah asks.

“What I offer you must be kept secret, as it will guarantee you victory among your enemies,” the being replies.

“What is it?”

“I can only tell you what it is if you agree to partake in its power.”

“What? That’s absurd! You want me to agree to something I know nothing of?”

The being nods. “The secret I offer isn’t to be taken lightly, Your Highness. It is a new way to exist. A rich and savory life. But the life you have, the one you were originally assigned, cannot be intertwined with it. You must lust for the newness. You must need it. As bad as the breath in your very lungs!”

Empress Farrah freezes at the being’s words. She sits petrified at their weight, stiffened by the choice she has to make. Her heart beats faster as each second passes. She looks back at the castle where her sister resides. Where her parents and great grandparents have resided.

She breathes the crisp air around her into her lungs. The air that will soon belong to others. The being peers motionless into Farrah’s eyes, awaiting a reply. Its gaze lacked the emotion of anything truly alive.

“What say you, Your Highness?” The being asks.

Farrah takes just another moment before responding. “I am ready.” Farrah finally replies. The being grins. A deeper grin than before. However, Farrah’s attention immediately shifts toward the gigantic spear the being is pulling from behind it. Its shining blade glistens in the moonlight as the being brings it forward. It lifts the spear and Farrah freezes. She stands to run until the being turns the blade of the spear around onto himself.

Farrah gasps. Before she can react any further, the being inserts the blade in its mouth and nicks the inside of its cheek. A thin stream of gold blood leaks down the lips and chin of the being. The golden color is the purest Farrah has ever seen before. The being motions for Farrah to approach. She reluctantly comes closer. The two are nearly face to face when the being drops its head and allows the blood to drip down.

Without any instruction, Farrah somehow knows what to do. The Empress raises her head and allows the golden liquid to fall into her mouth. The taste is that of a bitter metallic wine. She fights the flow at first, but after a moment, lets it enter her like sight into her eyes. Flashes from unknown moments enter her mind and rush away like running rivers. They were memories Farrah has never had. Before she can understand any of them, her mind begins to speed through visions of her young adulthood. Then her teenage years. Her youth. Her Infancy.

The images come and fade away quicker than Farrah can acknowledge them. They begin to rapidly lift off her until the bright light at the very beginning shakes into black. She presses her hands into her legs to keep them from shaking before realizing she fell over at some point. Farrah looks around the area, brushing the snow off of her as she gets off the ground and she sees there is no sign of the being or any blood around her.

END OF ACT I