I stand in front of a glistening city, beaming white and gold. The sun explodes over the horizon, and the sky bleeds red, highlighting the beauty of utopia. What is utopia? To me, utopia is the endless horizon. An ocean indescribably wide - opportunities, and indescribably deep - potential. Every citizen makes their mark, contributing to the greater good. Each person is an integral part of the system, working together to build something that will leave a legacy. Our forefathers laid the foundation for this city once, back when it was a humble trading outpost. Not just a trading outpost, but a town with people who had a vision for how far humanity could go. Each person ready to work, ready to make sacrifices, ready to do whatever it takes, to ensure a bright future.

Of course, there are always those who scorn this. Scorn at hard work, scorn at those who reap what they sow. The dissenters always get left behind. I bear no ill will for these people. I feel no hatred, only sadness. A deepening well of sorrow that not everyone has the vision to understand what true happiness could look like. Alas! Even the greatest leaders have their limits, and some people are just resistant to change. Despite what we want, with a heavy heart, we must let them go. Leaders. In my utopia, there is always a leader. A figurehead. A visionary. A god. One who rallies and fills the hearts of every citizen. One who shares victories but who is willing to take all blame for defeat. My father was one of those leaders. My husband was as well. They did great things for our nation, and they had the heart, the mind, and yes, the power, the terrible power to rule.

I had a dream last night. It happens now and again, the same one. It is more akin to a terrible nightmare that wakes me up in a sweat, clutching at my heart. It always starts the same way - with me standing on my balcony looking out into the land and the entire landscape is bathed in crimson red. It's not the brilliant sun lapping against my skin, but a blistering raging flame that has consumed my city. I see people turn into ash and glittering towers burn to rubble. There is nothing I can do, as I am stuck, feet frozen in place as I watch everything I build crumble. As tears stream down my eyes and the fire inches its way toward me, a songbird flutters and lands on my left hand. It peers up at me and sings. A mournful melody. A song that is not complete. They say a single songbird is sorrowful, but when paired with a second, it brings joy. And so I search. From my paralyzed lookout, I desperately dart my eyes, looking for the second songbird that will bring me salvation. All while the one on my hand sings, a half-complete melody that brings overwhelming tragedy. The world before me burns, and all I can feel is sorrow. The second songbird lies dead somewhere, I believe - scorched by the flames, never to bring joy again.

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I wake up and rage fills my heart, soon replacing the paralytic fear. Forces out there will try to burn my city - my land. People who have no heart and have no understanding of true progress. It will not be like my dream. I will not stand upon my balcony and cry as I watch everything be razed down. I will defend what is most important to me, even if it means obliterating any threat in my way. Two songbirds will lie on either hand, singing to me a glorious tune, the tune that will save humanity. My arms are outstretched waiting for their arrival.

I am Anna Sigardria, the Great Queen of Indirrel and the rightful ruler of the Western Lands. Any who oppose me shall perish, and any who choose to join me shall prosper.