A war had torn Uxian borders to shreds. The once lively place had children running around and building the grandest snowmen to impress their mothers. The Festival of Fire no longer seemed to happen in the early months, signalling the return of winter, which was a thing always to celebrated in Uxian, known for its vast plains and mountains that kissed the sky. Winter was never seen as a dark time. It was a time to rejoice - the land blessed with snow from the heavens, the smell of a warm hearth, the soup that blessed their insides.

However, all that was lost with the loss of many hard-working farmers and men. The king was unsure of what to do and could only wait to find out. It was a victorious war, but at what cost. The estate was in a rush, preparing a warm bath for General Kaelen Vorel, a feast fit for the king himself and new linens.

Kaelen felt uneasy. It had been years since he had a roof over his head, a warm soup that didn't taste of death and mould, a bed that didn't have sticks or rocks digging into his back. The most important thing was seeing his wife, a woman he had met a mere few months before he was sent into battle, and her parents thrusted her into an arranged marriage with him. On the eve of their wedding, the letter had arrived and he hadn't returned since.

Kaelen had a hand on his sword as he heard the fire crackling within his room where he knew you were standing. Would you still be his wife knowing the blood he had on his hands? He stood before the large double oak doors and splayed his gloved palm across the door handle.