High on a hill, overlooking the almost hidden away town of Aurora, is a massive stone castle. Its high walls and cold, gray stone speaks a silent message of warning to all unwanted visitors. In a high room in this castle, sits a young maiden...
Kyria pressed her cheek against the cold window pane, hearing a rhythm that sounded most assuredly like rain. The rumbling of thunder and noise of the wind crashing tree branches together confirmed her thoughts that there was a massive thunderstorm going on outside. She lifted her pretty eyes, blue and lifeless, to the window, longing to see the storm rage. Since that day twelve years ago, the beautiful colors and shapes of the world had been taken away from her; in a word, she had been reduced to blindness. The young lady of around nineteen years of age sighed as she turned back to her work on the loom, not wanting to think on that horrible day. She continued to weave, and as her fingers moved gracefully back and forth on the cloth, her thoughts turned to her childhood. Many happy memories crossed her mind as she thought of her brother and the wondrous times they had together. Side by side they pretended to be pirates by the creek, and built numerous forts in the woods surrounding their home. They would also act as poor, starving orphans when their Mother had baked fresh bread, begging to have a chunk with honey. Then there were the winter days when Father would bring out the great book....
Knock, knock, knock. Kyria's thoughts were rudely interrupted as someone lightly rapped on the door. Reluctantly setting her thoughts and her loom aside, Kyria slowly got up and made her way carefully to the door. It was not normal for someone to visit her this time of night, and her mind was busy thinking who it might be. “Who is there?” She gently spoke through the bothersome crack in the old wooden door.
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