~SEASON ONE: NEW BEGINNINGS~

Silver.

Slashing pain.

Small hands reaching.

A woman reaching for a man in the last moments before death.

Small arms were left outstretched, and the aching pain as everything dissolved.

Darkness, nothing but endless darkness.

A tear fell down a small, round cheek. Little lashes fluttered open, a breath hitched, and for a moment a mind had to settle once more. Tree bark eyes searched the dark room, and a body shook. Small hands grasped at the covers beneath her.

“Little flower?” A familiar voice with a warm undertone eased tense muscles, and the little girl let out a sigh of relief.

She was on Terra.

A ceiling with supporting wooden beams and Terran plaster greeted her view while her gaze focused above.

“Vienna?” A large hand with strong fingers brushed wavy curls that had stuck to her forehead. She shuddered before wincing as the large fingers hesitated on her brow. “Nightmare again?”

Her eyes followed the hand’s frame to the broad shoulders but otherwise lean figure of her father.

He stood from her bed and crossed over to the washstand.

Vienna’s small arms trembled when she tried to lift herself up, her hands sunk into the bedding instead.

“Don’t you move, little one.”

A long breath of air escaped her lungs when she fell back against her soft linen pillow. She raised her small hands to view them.

She had yet to get used to her small body, even though she’d been Vienna since infancy. She missed the freedom she used to have in her other life.

“Pop, I’m ok. We can go to breakfast now.”

Her brown eyes watched her father’s dark eyebrows furrow as he came back to her side. His fathomless eyes studied her. He wiped her brow with the dampened washcloth, his lips pursed.

Sometimes it felt like he could see into her very being.

Once the morning sun had risen, the two Thornes turned their faces up to its warmth when they came out into the yard.

Underneath their favorite tree overlooking their pond, they placed their breakfast upon a worn woven blanket.

Pop sat Vienna upon his lap. His chest rumbled with laughter when he saw her lower lip stick out in a pout.

“Pop, I can sit by the tree on my own!”

“You are too small, little flower. It’s best if you sit with me and I feed you.”

Vienna huffed. She felt like she was always sighing around this father of hers.

She gazed up at his gruff chin and rested her head against his chest. She was the only fragment left of his wife and his only family. Her eyes drifted across the pond, stretching out before them. It could be understandable why he had always been a bit clingy.

Her gaze changed direction, and she looked down at her tiny hands. She furrowed her brow in consternation. She was growing rather slowly. She still looked like a toddler, even at the age of four.

“Why am I so small, Pop?”

A spoonful of porridge froze on its journey to her mouth. Vienna tilted her head back. Her father had dazed off, gazing out into the distance.

It was the same expression when he was looking out a window during work. Or when she’d find him with his head resting upon a tree, his thoughts miles away. Sometimes he would freeze mid-stroke as he was painting as if lost in another time and place.

She’d learned not to try to wake him from the state. Once she tried and he jumped, almost trampling her. Causing him to go into a deep, brooding depressive episode for almost hurting his baby.

So Vienna waited this time, looking up at the tree above her. A peaceful silence descended, she watched the light filter through the leaves. Pretty patterns of light and shadow fell across the trunk above them.

She had been in this world for four years. Time seemed to have passed by quick, too quickly. Her lips pulled down, and she swallowed, tightening her hands upon the lapels of her father’s tunic robe.

“My deepest apologies, little one.”

Her father gave the top of her head a light kiss, and she felt the tension in her body melt away. Her gaze refocused on the new spoonful her Pop got her.

Vienna listened to willowcants’ songs. She relaxed in her father’s arms. Her mind completely forgot that Pop didn’t answer her question.

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“Pop, why do the King and Queen wish to meet me?”

As they left their little hamlet, their tenants waved when they passed the farmland. Vienna waved back. She felt her stomach flutter as she watched the only home she’d known in this world fade into the distance.

Her father pulled her tighter to him on the horse.

“Your mother and I fought beside them during the Great War. When it was over, the people decided they wanted for certain...” He paused, his hands tightened on the reins. Vienna could feel when his chest filled with air behind her as he summoned a breath.

“Has your tutor taught you why our region is called Wofford?”

Vienna thought back to her lessons. The tutor didn’t cover the Great War much, as they were worried about how someone so young would be influenced.

Her mind wandered then to the only other source of information she had. The ‘game’ hadn’t actually ever mentioned the country’s name. It had always been called the setting ‘the Continent’ and the city where the main story took place ‘The Capital’.

She shook her head. Her father let out a minor, disgruntled sound behind her.

“Wofford was the last known giant to live upon Terra.”

Vienna let out a little gasp before turning her wide umber eyes towards her father.

“There were giants?”

He nodded.

“Wofford gave his life to the people of this region during one of the last stands of the war. The escaped people in the area had all made their way to this very valley...”

Vienna’s eyes examined the valley, imagining the scene.

The rocky hillsides that stood on either side of them were very tall but not quite high enough to be mountains. There were no caverns or caves that she could see. The people would have been in the open.

She knew only a small bit of the history of the Great War. The closest parallel she had was the Civil War that happened in the once-Americas of her old world. The Great War lasted over a hundred years.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

In the small span of her years on the planet of Terra, she had learned that the world was very diverse. The Continent was the same, which was the main area where its population thrived.

From her studies in the Before, she knew if someone gets too much of a good thing, they can become greedy. Beings in power across the Continent had turned on their own races, leading to the Dark Age before the war.

Vienna’s eyes blurred with tears, and she shook her head.

“What happened, Pop?”

He placed a kiss on top of her fluffy hair, smoothing it down when it tried to stick to his light scruff.

“An ambush took place.” Wofford covered them all with his body for protection against the catapult projectiles. He took all the damage he had held until we came to the rescue. Wofford held true the whole time until he knew they’d all be safe.”

Vienna’s tears fell down her cheeks as she imagined the giant protecting a mass of people in the valley. Then, when all were safe, he breathed a sigh of relief... his last breath. A little sob came from her.

“They didn’t want to forget him, so they named our region after him?”

Her father hummed in return.

It was odd when they finished riding through the valley. Vienna could almost feel it. A moment lost in time, full of anticipation, the fear, and yet through it all there was an overwhelming sense of hope.

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The Capital was an odd mix of older noble buildings and newer buildings built by the trades and the artificers. Then, high above it all, overlooking and watching over all, stood the Stronghold.

“They live there.”

Vienna’s head tilted back. She gazed in awe and consternation. Her mouth gaping, her father closed it.

“It’s enormous.”

She looked back at her father, whose tan features were expressionless, yet in his eyes was a tale only he could tell.

“We almost did not capture it.”

Vienna looked down the hill at the lively city. Her father’s horse stood upon the road leading straight to the castle’s moat.

The relief that must have been on the people’s faces, when they had been free to live their lives at last.

The small girl looked down at the horse’s mane. Her little fingers ran through the dense hair as she let out a breath. If only things were that simple.

Round brown eyes looked back up at her father.

“How did you?”

“That, my dear one, is a secret.”

She looked away, her mind drifted to her own secret. Her hands tightened on the mane in her hands. Her heart ached. If Pop knew, he wouldn’t love her, for she wouldn’t be ‘his Vienna’ anymore.

King Wolfau and Queen Sevelle Basilius were not what Vienna expected.

They did not dress in lavish finery. They wore the simple linens that their people in the city wore. Only the golden thread that decorated the edges of their tunics and the noble crowns upon their heads distinguished them as royalty.

The ‘game’ from her old world had been wrong.

The Fortress had several knights who patrolled the borders.

The royal personal knights escorted Pop and her to the throne room.

One of the knights stepped forward to announce their arrival. “Duke Winden Thorne and Lady Vienna Thorne.”

Her father nodded his head in respect toward both the rulers. It was nothing like the stately bows she’d seen in the media of her old Earth.

Vienna glanced back at the royals, who returned her Pop’s nod before looking at her.

The king was quite an imposing figure upon his throne. His graphite features resembled the large floating isles of the Wilds. His rough exterior showcased how his russet eyes shone in the light.

She had the sudden desire to hide in her father’s embrace.

Vienna trembled before saying, “Hello Your Majesties.”

Her little head bobbed, and a small wave of brown, wavy curls fell forward. She felt her father’s chest shake when he chuckled behind her. When she looked, he shook his head with a small smile.

Vienna sought out the royals with her eyes to find the strangest sight indeed.

The king’s scar that ran across his face, that stopped at the tip of his lip, crinkled as his entire mouth twitched.

Vienna gazed at the queen. The queen resembled the warriors of the desert, her dark brow broad and shimmering like the moons hovering above Terra. Her nobility shone through across the distance that separated the Thornes from her.

The queen tilted her head. Her midnight and gold entwined locks fell to the side as she scrutinized Vienna’s features.

“Where did you learn such addresses, Lady Thorne?”

Vienna flushed at the official title.

“I read them somewhere.”

Sükömi sand eyes narrowed and lightened, a small smile coming upon the queen’s lips.

“You may need to address others by their titles, little one. Your father is our dearest friend, you needn’t do so.”

Then, as if the queen read Vienna’s mind, “You may call us Aunt Sev and Uncle Wolf. Your mother made us promise to watch over you. Your father, yet, has not let us meet you until this day.”

The queen’s voice turned hard as the rock that could be found in the rumored secret caverns of the desert lands.

Vienna looked up at her father’s features, which were expressionless even when the queen glared at him.

“I’ll take the little one if you like, Duke Winden.”

Vienna jumped when she saw what she had thought was a wall move by the side of the royal thrones.

Instead, as it drew closer, she found it was a male being. He was tall, but not as tall as her father. His frame was bulky, with muscles on each arm that were the size of her head. Her eyes widened, and her small hands tightened on her father’s tunic.

The being seemed almost made of stone and had shoulders that were rigid in his frame, supporting his bulbous-looking head. It was quite larger in proportion to the rest of him, but after blinking a couple of times, Vienna decided it suited him fine. He had long scars running down his face, several others decorated the top of his head like a crown of scars.

Vienna pursed her lips while her eyes glanced at the king and then back to the being. It was the first time she had seen such evidence of the Great War. She took a deep breath as her roving eyes reached the male’s beautiful azure-toned eyes that peered at her.

The queen spoke up from behind.

“Tarin has already heard what needs to be said. You should know, Winden, no harm will come to her while she’s in his care.”

Her father was reluctant to let her go.

After some cajoling from his ‘old friends’, which included the being named Tarin Roark, he, at last, let her go.

He had conditions.

Of course, Roark would carry her to their next destination and then she was to always be in Roark’s eye line.

Once they left the throne rooms, Roark’s eye creases crinkled as he looked into Vienna’s gaze.

“My name is Tarin Roark. I have known your father for some time.”

Vienna nodded. “What do you do here?”

He tilted his head as if to ponder her question, or why she asked it. Vienna herself stared at his large head, wondering how he kept his balance. She shook her head mentally at the thought.

“I am the Prime Minister of Wofford.”

“Wow!”

Nothing, it seemed, was like the ‘game’.

Her curious eyes gazed at the prime minister.

He quirked his lips as he humored her.

“Where would you like to go, little Lady Vienna? Would you like a tour of the Stronghold? Or see the only remaining courtyard garden?”

She shook her head, her hair swished on either side of her.

“No, thank you. I would like to see the library, please.”

This time it was Roark, whose eyes widened in surprise.

“You are quite young to be able to read already.”

Vienna was looking up at the wide stone corridors. They were sparsely decorated. Tan columns supported the hallways with stone archways that they walked through.

“Not really. I’m already four.”

They passed through several more stone archways before Roark shifted Vienna onto one arm to open a door.

“What are you looking for, Lady Vienna?”

“I would like to read anything about the Great War, the history of the Continent and of Terra please.”

She could feel his steady gaze on her, but she smoothed down her tunic. It wasn’t the first time she’d surprised someone with her desire to learn about the world around her. Vienna doubted it would be the last.

“Few children would seek to gain knowledge at your age. They would prefer playing outside.”

Vienna narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin up. “I don’t want to be ignorant.”

Vienna knew that some in her place might have played it safe and acted like a child her age. But, she didn’t believe she had that luxury.

It would always be a risk for how ‘smart’ she would seem for her youth, but she would take it. To survive, she had to learn.

Roark led her into the library.

The library held no comparison to her old world’s European palace libraries or even the ones in old fairy tale cartoons. It was a modest size, having about a dozen bookshelves lining the walls that created a couple of aisles by the library’s door. To the far right of the entry, there was a table with chairs circled around it.

A flash of a 3d animated memory from the ‘game’, of a dark-haired prince studying in a much grander library version, came to mind.

She had shivered from the memory, causing Roark to look at her in concern.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m alright.”

The prime minister nodded while he pulled out a chair for her with one arm. She could feel him peering over her features while he set her on the table.

“Don’t move. Your father would have my head if you fell. We have some dusty, thick volumes on the botany of a rare kind of weed. Not even our court artificer uses them.”

Another memory from the strange parallel ‘game’ she’d played of a man with ice-blue hair and a cold gaze.

Roark was back with two thick two tomes that were both a quarter her size each, one in each hand. He situated them up on a chair with armrests so that she wouldn’t fall off.

Being small was such a hindrance.

“Thank you, Sir Roark.”

His thin lips twitched as if he were fighting off a smile. He reaffirmed she was tucked in before he went through the aisles searching for the texts she requested.

Vienna rested her elbows on the edge of the table and her chin in her hands. The day had not been what she expected at all. Things had not been what they seemed.

They had been right. This world was the original and the ‘game’ was inspired by it.

In comparison to the vibrant world she was finding out about, the ‘game’ had given only the bare details. The world-building was basic and the main characters’ backgrounds were only skin-deep.

Which led Vienna to worry about how much of the ‘game’ story was actually accurate.

Was she even in danger?

After all, the infant she became was Lady Vienna Thorne, the future villainess of an otome game known on Earth.

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[Special POV of Tarin Roark]

Tarin Roark had lived eight hundred years.

In all his years, he had never been so curious as he was the day little Vienna Thorne read through the driest of the history books in the Stronghold.

Her little dark eyebrows furrowed while she whispered through certain sections. Her eyes gazed off into the distance when she seemed to process the information she had read.

One of these moments he asked, “When did you learn to read Vienna?”

“Pop allowed me to start at two and a half.”

His eyebrows rose at her answer, for it hadn’t actually answered the question.

Then he pondered, “Could you read before?”

She was quiet, reading the text in front of her.

The Prime Minister of Wofford tried again, this time waiting until she was dazing off into the distance, “Could you read before?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

Yes, Tarin Roark was most curious indeed.

[End of special POV]