I was the third child of a monarch. In other words, a mule. Every misfortune, every burden, every mistake–even that of others was my burden to carry; and I had to carry them with great shame. My father, a great man who marched under the Everstar's banner, was far from lenient, but to me, he was cruel. And that cruelty came in the form of lashings.
What should've been the punishment for my brothers quickly turned into my father's resentment towards me. As to harm his first and the second was beyond questioning, they could carry his name and continue his legacy. But I? A mere footstool for them to step on, nothing more and nothing less.
Still, there was light in that darkness–the Everstar's radiant blessing. I was blessed by the goddess of the stars, the soulkeeper, and the Everstar. Then how could I give up? Succumb to despair and accept defeat? When she has branded me her chosen? When she had cast her radiant light on my lacerated body?
