"Charge!" The order is given to armies tens of thousands of men strong from both sides. Lines meet. Swords clash. Groans, shouts, and screams of all kinds fill the air. Horses snort and kick. Chaos reigns. War.

When a reality so gruesome as a war in which one is clearly losing settles in, it is overwhelming. The rebellion has lasted six months now. The monarchy is shaking on weak foundations that the pests of immorality and corruption had gnawed at. The rebels are led by a controversial figure in a golden mask.

Some say he is mentally disturbed. Others say he is not. Some say he is a power maniac. Others say he will distribute power fairly. Some say the rebellion’s leader is fighting for his rightful throne: a throne torn from the hands of his ancestors. Others say he is a bastard child of the reigning king. The nation is divided.

When a nation is in such a state, it does not take long before general panic, fear, and unease settles in the hearts of those in power. Their inner coward is either stifled completely or kindled to the full. Of all of them, only one is to be found to be completely calm: the Crown Princess. Even the King has lost his poise. Few are loyal to him. Many are his enemies. His time is short, and he is aware of that. His daughter is his only hope, but cannot be spirited away: they are surrounded.

In short, the storm must rage on its due course.

That night, the King and Queen, drink hemlock. Two minutes later, the sixteen year old Crown Princess ascends the throne and watches silently as the rest of the ministers, too, drink the poison: the last of the corrupt generation of rulers. The masked leader of the rebellion strides into the palace without meeting any resistance.

He sends twelve soldiers into the throne room to bring the Queen. As the men walk in, she stands up.

"I have been waiting for you. Have you come to take me away?" she calmly addresses them. Not one of the dozen men can meet her gaze, nor can they muster an answer. "Come now, we must not keep your leader waiting." She descends the throne and leads them outside the palace. Finally, one of the soldiers knocks her out with a blow to her head.

When the queen awakes, she is in a large, beautiful room. The walls are covered with invaluable silk screens. A sizeable table is spread sumptuously with a lavish feast from which mouth-watering smells waft through the room. A copious bed holds a luxurious mattress covered with fine silks of all colors of the rainbow. The scarlet tapestry covering the floor is soft and velvety. She herself is sitting in a wooden chair that looks and feels completely out of place in all the grandeur. Cautiously, she rises