Freya always knew what she wanted in life— wealth, power, status. She was only but a poor mage of a _nearly_ fallen kingdom’s tower. She hated that fact. The fact that she was poor. Like all the others in the kingdom’s population. Eating bread crumb by crumb and wondering what crumb she’d eat for the next day.

She was never alone though. She was popular for her good looks and perfect genes. Her visuals were the only thing that helped her survive thus far. Coaxing a noble into sparing some change with a small pout was easy in her childhood and leading up to her years as a young adult. She had plenty of friends in the area, who were also plagued by war between Gaia and Thanatos. They pitied her. Being a ‘delacate’ and ‘beautiful’ young lady cursed to be born in times of war.

She hated it.

Hated having to rely on selfish nobles with money to spare on a small girl with a pretty face. Hated having dreams of wealth, only to wake up with an empty stomach on the cold wet floor of an old restaurant owner’s kitchen. Hated being pitied.

Her bottled hatred was poured into her magical arts the moment she turned 16. Magic was her only solace. A way for her to pour her emotions out before they exploded into a mess for her to clean back up. She didn’t need anyone or anything else but her magic arts. By the time she was 18 she was finally accepted into the royal tower as a mage.

It didn’t solve any of her problems. If the kingdom was still poor, she was still poor. If the kingdom was still losing, she was still losing. Freya couldn’t win.

“Freya, can you pass me my cloak?”

“Mm? Yeah, sure.”

“Uh. The keyword was to _pass _me my cloak. You’re clenching it enough to make holes in the fabric.”

Freya looked down. Her thoughts finally dispersed in her head, “Right, right. Sorry.”

“I know you’re nervous for your first frontline trip. Mages ranks as low as we do usually don’t,” she shrugged, “but the king is desperate at this point. I say he should just surrender!”

Freya passed her the dark green cloak from her hands finally, “I’m fine, Yurena. Not nervous, just distracted.”

Yurena, Freya’s partner mage gave her a worried look before sighing and putting on her cloak. She turned her body towards the door where a carriage was waiting for them, “I heard the crown prince of Thanatos has gone missing. The king has been flipping Gaia inside out just to find him.”

“Yeah?” Freya replied in an uninterested tone as she followed Yurena close from behind.

Yurena sighed, stepping into the carriage. “I guess it’s none of our concern. The crown prince shouldn’t be anywhere near the frontlines and plus, he’s an enemy.”

Freya gave a hum of agreement. War made them poor, the ones who were winning were their enemy.