The Guardians

Prologue

The queen awoke to her daughter's cries. She glanced over at her husband but saw that he still slumbered. She carefully tossed the blanket aside so not to wake him and put her bare feet to the cold tile floor. She quickly and quietly went into the alcove where the princess' crib was.

"Shh, little one," she whispered, taking the crying infant into her arms. "Shh. Mommy's here."

Unlike the queens of the past, she insisted that she care for her own child and would not allow a wet nurse to tend to the tiny princess. Her daughter nuzzled into her chest and the queen knew that she was hungry. With her fussy daughter in her arms, she crossed the alcove to the rocking chair. She softly hummed a tune as she nursed her daughter. She still couldn't believe that she was a wife and a mother, let alone a queen. She wasn't of royal blood nor was she even noble blood. By all rights, she shouldn't have even been considered by the then prince. She should have been in the Paladins' prison. But circumstances had changed everything. Changed the very world. Their worlds had been turned upside down before they collided. If she hadn't fought tooth and nail against her own fate, none of this would have come to past, including her husband's survival in the topsy-turvy civil war begun by a powerful sorceress' desire for chaos. The princess finished nursing and the queen gently patted her back as she continued to rock and remember. Before long, the princess had returned to slumber and the queen carefully rose to keep from waking her. She gently lay the sleeping princess back down and tucked her in. She turned back to the sleeping chamber she shared with her husband. She could see his form under the blanket, the rise and fall of his even breathing as he slept. He looked so peaceful and she thought back on all those anxiety-filled nights that robbed both of them of their sleep. No matter how much she loved him, it didn't seem right that her place was next to him. Oddly, she found that she couldn't return to sleep. Instead, she watched him sleep from the entryway of the princess' alcove, her fingers absently playing with the pendant given to her by her father. Beams of moonlight filtered through the windows and past the sheer curtains that hung there, a slight breeze flitting through and making them slightly dance. She sighed contently and then walked towards the balcony. Outside, the full moon bathed everything in a bluish light. She walked to the railing and looked over the city. She could see a few lights burning, faint beacons in the streets below her. She knew most had to belong to the taverns and inns. The others, she was sure, belonged to early rising merchants or fishermen. Over two years earlier, Citori had been touched by the civil war, some of the evidence still lingered here and there from when the war spilled over into its streets, a battle they both had taken part in against incredible odds. Her husband had worked tirelessly to restore Citori and care for those families displaced and the children orphaned by the fighting that had taken place here. Gathering the skirt of her nightgown, the queen climbed onto the railing and sat there, looking up at the moon. Her life could have been so much different. She could have easily chosen a different, darker path instead of the one she had taken. She could never have met her husband or the friends that had rallied around them. She could have allowed her past to destroy her and everyone she knew and loved. So many paths she could have taken. So many could haves. But her feet had fallen upon this path. All because of a sorceress, a civil war, a prophecy of the gods, and a Dragon Matriarch.