To Begin

1

Long ago in the ancient kingdom of Madaramthiel—which is now known as Magramland, and shall be henceforth referred to as Magramland in this account, for frankly, Madaramthiel has two too many letters—there ruled a certain King Räl and a particular Queen Jênye.  They did not manage the kingdom poorly, but nor did they manage it especially well, and they were not despised, but nor were they much revered.  They lived, as had their ancestors before them, in the Castle Moribinu, which sat atop a lone bluff in the middle of a wide, flat valley.  Below the bluff, the shallow-but-swift Rayn River wound southward, toward the neighboring kingdom of Murkintsen, passing through, on its way, the vast, dangerous Madaram Forest that spanned much of the southerly portion of Magramland, from Moribinu to the kingdom’s mountainous southern border.

                But this tale does not begin with King Räl and Queen Jênye, but with the birth of their first and only child, a boy called Reymu.  Reymu, who was born in the night.  Reymu, who knew not the sun.

                For the sun did not grace the face of Magramland the following morning.

                Nor the next.

                Magramland, in fact, would not see the light of the sun, moon, or any star for twelve years to come.

The End

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