PROLOGUE

MIRA DETHRIDGE

I didn’t mean to kill her.

Clear, cold rain leaked off the roofs of Xercen’s lopsided, crumbling buildings in the dark, a result of the sky’s latest tantrum. 

It was an accident.

Each tiny droplet plummeted as far as thirty feet, suspended in the air before spattering against a skeleton tree or melting into a soft, rich bed of moss to die peacefully. There it waited for the sun to pull it back into the sky, waiting to be expelled again in a sudden fit of the gods. It oozed and crawled and dripped, then finally bled out in the streets. 

What a funny thing, rain.

Mira pulled her mother’s linen, baby blue shawl tighter around herself, the fringe fluttering in the cold, aftermath breeze. The same wind haunted Xercen’s narrow, winding alleys, howling like a forlorn spirit. Its cries echoed through the capital city–the only concrete city in all of Riese.

Soggy, mottled leaves squelched underneath Mira’s footsteps, fallen from the autumn-bare trees looming over the square. The moon and stars were blocked out by dark clouds, and the only light came from cast iron lanterns that flickered and swung on their chains in the gale. They knocked against the stone-and-plaster buildings, chipping dust and paint chunks off their exteriors and scattering them through the cold air. 

She winced against the mist thrown at her face, then paused by the dormant fountain in the square. It was simple, small, plain, and made of hard grey stone.

It had stopped working years ago.

When she was younger, she used to look down into the clear water and imagine she saw the reflection of a castle, perched atop the ancient Airredge Mountains far beyond Riesen borders. Grand and striking and gorgeous, it had turrets like branches on a tree and heavy tapestries as thick and red and slow as oozing blood, swaying lazily in the wind. Light glanced off the polished marble walls and stained glass windows, shimmering and glinting and dancing to the sonata of the wind and birds and endless blue sky…

She would imagine she saw herself, too, draped in the most expensive silks and jewels in all shades of purple, the ones that belonged to far richer countries. She imagined her dark curls were shiny and bouncy, gold ornaments and braids woven throughout, and people would gather to talk to her, to smile and point and wave, and she would smile and wave back, beautiful and healthy and straight-backed.

Now, as she settled on the smooth edge of the fountain and looked down into the placid puddle at the murky bottom, she saw her real, distorted reflection, warped and weathered. Her eyebrows sat low over her plain, tainted yellow eyes, and the corners of her mouth were permanently tugged down by the constant storms of a harsh life.

A life… that would end tomorrow.

That was how things worked here–a leg for a leg, an eye for an eye…

A life for a life.

She reached down into the water and dragged her finger through the surface, sending ripples through her own neck like an executioner’s blade. 

Only she knew that wasn’t how they would deal with her. 

She was a witch, after all.

And they were right to be afraid of her.

and eventually this

triassic love song by Paris Paloma

It's Called: Freefall by Paris Paloma (i wish there was a clean version so badddd)

Oblivion by Halfy & Winks

Bitter and Sick by One Two

I Didn't Ask For This by Beth Crowley

Monster by Caissie Levy

Be A Hero by Euphoria

Hard to Kill by Beth Crowley

How Villains Are Made by Madalen Duke

Monster by Imagine Dragons

POWER by Ethan Gander

Sound of War by Tommee Profitt and Fleurie

Reign by Tommee Profitt and Anna Graceman

Monster by Fight the Fade

Empire by Beth Crowley

Onward and Upward by Tommee Profitt and Fleurie

APHRODITE by Ethan Gander

play this as i die by Ethan Gander

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Clear, cold rain leaked off the roofs of Xercen’s lopsided, crumbling buildings in the dark, a result of the sky’s latest tantrum. 

Each tiny droplet plummeted as far as thirty feet, suspended in the air before spattering against a skeleton tree or melting into a soft, rich bed of moss to die peacefully. There it waited for the sun to pull it back into the sky, waiting to be expelled again in a sudden fit of the gods. It oozed and crawled and dripped, then finally bled out in the streets. 

What a funny thing, rain.

mira sees rain as a paradox, which is interesting because of how her character develops throughout the story. her entire goal is to stop the pain and suffering that comes with the Strip (the forceful removal of magical abilities as a punishment for one's crimes; it's incredibly painful and causes so many issues in its victims) and get rid of the Strip entirely, but she causes so much pain on her journey to stop it that it completely outweighs her ends. she herself is a paradox--in more ways than one.

Hadley shivered.

It was cold today and raining hard. She could hear the droplets smashing themselves against the windowpane, exploding into a thousand little pieces and dribbling down the glass one after the other, the little suicidal things.

It had been nothing but freezing rain for the past few weeks, threatening to slick down the city’s cobbled streets or ice over water wells, but it was never quite cold enough to snow.

And thus began their fleeting Elysian spring.

hadley sees the rain as necessary but explosive, unpredictable, and dangerous. totally not foreshadowing for the rest of the story, especially jaeger--*coughcoughcough*

Jaeger liked the rain.

It was a shame so many saw it as dreary, sad, and violent. To him, it was a chance for new beginnings. The sun was only hiding, and it would come out again, and the wind would stop, and the rain would make the flowers grow. 

A few hours of darkness and torrent seemed a more than fair trade for something better--something far more beautiful.

jaeger sees the rain as a friend. he finds it validating. he uses it as a justification for his actions, if you will.