Prologue

Within a hazy memory, a child with long silver hair leans against the window frame and stares to the far distance. Her hair glows under the moonlight. She is like the fairy of the night.

The silver moon was big. The world underneath it seems so fragile- like glass about to shatter as it reflects against the lake's surface. No stars could match its presence and brilliance.

However, there is a single blue light that stayed close to it and shines brightly still. The petty king is what they call it.

The child looked back as the door creaked open. Her pair of gray eyes reflected the image of a woman with a glass of milk in hand. She is a beautiful woman with hair as lush as the green leaves of spring and eyes that glows like emeralds.

The woman smiled as she sat beside the girl, placing the glass at the nearby table. The girl smiled as well she happily lay on her mother's lap, enjoying the warmth from her mother's hands caressing her head.

They both stared at the moon and the single star next to it.

"Is the blue star a petty king like what they call her, mother?"

"It doesn't matter what people call her. What matters is what she believes she is, and so do you. Mother is glad if Leone could just be Leone; she doesn't have to be anyone else. As long as she understands what her heart desires and stays true to it, Mother is sure she will shine just as brightly and strong as the blue star."

"Leone could? But she doesn't understand."

The child clenched her chest and closed her eyes. What is it that she desires? She could not think of anything. She is happy and contented already. The time spent with her mother is worth more than anything she could wish for. She could not ask for more.

A small smile formed on her tender lips and shook her head.

"Leone could not think of anything, Mother. Is it alright to think about it later? Because Leone is currently enjoying the greatest wish she believes anyone in the world could wish for. Would it be selfish if Leone also wish for this to last forever?"

The woman laughed and pinched the child's cheeks, bending down to kiss her small nose.

"Silly girl. Mother is also blessed to have Leone in her life. If there's forever, I would also wish the same. But Mother thinks there is no such thing, my dear."

"Why?"

"Because there is an end to every life. Time indeed would continue to run, the world will continue to turn, the seasons will change, but the time of every person has a fated ending where everything will stop."

"Mother... even if Leone's time also stops and freezes, she would still love you forever."

"Yes. Mother also loves Leone forevermore."

The woman noticed the little girl had gone quiet, her eyelids fluttering as she fights against sleep.

"Are you sleepy?"

The child stifled a yawn. "Yes. But Leone still wants to talk to Mother."

"How about I tell you a bedtime story?"

"Really? What story is it?"

"The story of a mighty general and his eternal love."

A long, long time ago, to the far north lies a kingdom. To its western side is the boundary between them and another kingdom, the Lost Woods of Permafrost. To it north is the endless sea of glaciers. The eastern side is a wall of rocky mountains and the south is a deserted land of decay.

They have an impregnable defense, a kingdom a fortress of itself. But due to the weather conditions surrounding them from all sides, they need to cross impossible borders and seek land that could support life.

In said kingdom lives a young, mighty general. He persevered and won battles over and over. He created a name, racked achievements, and gathered the affection of women.

This mighty general, however, was betrayed by his best friend- the king, and his lover who was later crowned as queen, by his men who turned their backs on him, and by his countrymen who accused him of insurgency.

With no land to die for nor a home to return to, he ventured to the land beyond, crossing desserts and climbing mountains, enduring the blare of the summer sun, the wrath of the autumn storms, and the chill of the winter snow.

When flowers are to bloom with the first rays of spring, he thought it is just time for him to rest.

He found himself at a tiny creak below a hill. The water was so clear he could see his own reflection- a man in a ragged, filthy cloak.

A long, unkempt handful of white hair slipped through his shoulders, swaying by the wind to reveal the left, lifeless and hazy dark blue eyes over sunken cheeks.

He kneeled, feeling the grasses scratch his skin. He reached out for the water which escapes his boney fingers and brought a handful over to his cracked, violet lips. It was sweet, nothing like he have tasted before. It felt more than enough to satisfy both his thirst and hunger.

Then he looked before him, to the top of the hill. A single, old-looking tree stood proudly, withstanding the harsh seasons all year round. He thought it was a good place to die.

He crossed the creek and climbed the hill slowly. But he could feel his strength fading. His thoughts ran wildly just for his dying wish to rest and slumber under the shade of the tree.

He felt his body and touched something cold on his hips. The cloak flapped as the wind blew, revealing a long, golden sword. He unsheathed the sword, the silver blade reflecting the morning rays. He looked at it rather bored and stabbed it unto the soil, using it as a cane.

He thought his anger had gone away like his strength and willingness to live. But he could be wrong from the beginning. Perhaps he was just too tired to bother with it.

It could simply be his last form of retaliation and indignation. He wanted to shame and mock the sword who was smeared with the blood of countless civilians and innocents, which was used to attain victory and power, and witnessed how its owner fell from grace and die without name and honor.

Yet he can't bring himself to throw it away. He thought it would not be right to abandon it as the world did to him.

He finally reached the tree with his last ounce of strength. Then he slowly brought himself to lean against the tree. From the other side of the hill is the endless blue sky. Underneath it was the vast expanse of a green field with wildflowers. Their fragrance seep into his nose and calmed his nerves.

He closed his eyes and felt the wind caress his face like the touch of the person he loves. And a satisfied smile formed on his lips as he heard the soft melody of a violin playing next to him. This peace and comfort, he wished for to last forever.

Then he brought the sword close to his heart and whispered, "I have finally come, my queen."

***