Aeoliah looked at the palace. She missed the bustling halls filled with servants, the white swirling columns, and the long halls.

Even though she had not yet left to be a slave, even though the palace was a white speck in the distance, Aeoliah still wanted to go back, to be with her regent who liked to sit outside and meditate; who taught Aeoliah what she knew. Nimyalli was her teacher.... and her only friend.

Instead, she stood there, hands bound together in shackles. Her long wavy white hair, matted. Her gown, rumpled and stained. The silver ornate collar around her neck and shoulders pressed against her collarbone, threatening the crush her shoulders. The blue skinned Sarayu slaves, all children, scowled at her.

‘You know you deserve this,’ their looks told her.

‘You are a monster.’

Except she didn’t chose to be queen. She didn’t get to choose to be Half Godspawn. She was simply born that way.

And some part of her wanted to vanish into nothing.