A man and a woman lived a peaceful life at the edge of the kingdom. The man was a knight, and the woman, a student of the church. One classic love story later, the pair got together. They'd form a family, and live at the edge of town in a timeless village. One with a clocktower that met the heavens. It'd count down their time together. But alas, duty is duty. The Knight went to war, and the student, back to the capitol city for her studies.

"You don't need such a man," he townsfolks whispered to the student. "He fights for the King, who wages wars upon wars. Stay here with the Queen. We here, value peace above all. . ." But peace was perhaps, what lead the capitol to its untimely demise.

The knight was the first to return, to warn of the war. Their child was born. An innocent beacon of hope. But the war was upon them.The pair would move back to their town. Forced to take shelter here while the capitol was torn asunder. A student of the heavens, now witnessing her home town ravaged by the soldiers of the King, and taking shelter by one such, who kept leaving and returning to fulfill his duties and come back to be a father... What was there to believe? Torn by their duties to their child or their country, the family was split, and this much was shown in how they raised the poor unknowing child. Aelia accused her former beloved of being a spy. Of those books that he left her to read to be needless propaganda. They were mere storybooks. But who needed those in times of war? The child must grow to be strong. To fit the image of God's angels. So she'd raise the child accordingly. Through punishment for wrongdoing and strict studies of the Queen. Who cares if she wasn't interested, and dare she question "What about dad?" she would be slapped. Much to the Knight's dismay. . .

Time ran out. The capitol was no more, and their little town was discovered. This was his fault, surely! No matter how much he claimed innocence, it was his army's fault that the Queen was dead now. So what was he doing to prevent that? The knight assured that he was but one person, and the rest were against him. They should flee. Together. Give their family a life of peace. But the damage was done. Why run when conquest would spread? It was like fleeing from a tsunami. They should fight back instead. And take back what was lost. Angered, the knight snapped.

"Would you rather our child be alone in the hands of some stranger? Or have such an innocent, vulnerable soul witness bloodshed that young?" The plea fell on deaf ears and he knew it. Evening fell and Aelia overheard them talk about fleeing. That weak Knight that could do nothing to protect, now opted to kidnap their child onto God knows where. Preposterous. Morning came, and she intervened. If that weak bastard couldn't fight for his own family then she would instead. The Knight and the Student of the Queen fought bitterly that day. A fight that burned the whole house down. Bloodied and surrounded by fire, the child fled on her own, and knew never again what would happen to either or. . .

Like a phoenix, Aelia rose from the ashes the next morning. To a home no longer. Ruin and destruction around them quelled by the rains, as if the heavens themselves mourned what was lost.

Aelia took one good look around. He was gone. The child, too. Digging through the rubble found no bodies. Only smashed pumpkins that grew in their garden. Whatever, now was not the time to find what ""family"" she had. Now was the time to reclaim what was lost. Her nation. . . And her innocent child.

She marched to the ruined city capitol with her sword in her hand. It was towns upon towns away. And yet, the solo soldier would cut down heads and tear off hearts with that sword of hers, which she believed to be blessed by the Sun Goddess. It was a gift from the Queen, who told her she was her favourite student. It was time to avenge. How ironic that a Child of the Sun would call upon the Heavens for war, and a Knight of the Darkness called for peace. But clearly neither stopped this senseless devastation. This time would be different.

"My name is Hera Samara! I am the student of the fallen Queen." The, she said. As if she was the only. Yes, the only. The only one who lives, for she saw each and every one of them fall. Pleading for help, those pathetic poor children. If they had swords, they could fight back and never have to beg a knight to come save her. Hera, she called herself. After the Queen of the Gods, in memory of the fallen queen of her country. "I am here to pickup this fallen nation. And if anyone opposes me, your heads shall be like his. But if you join me, I will prove that strength will prevail. If men are selfish and seek needless conquest to run their nations, then it will be no longer. The Gods are absolute. The Sun provides us with the light that guides us, and the light that makes us! I shall resurrect Mother Sun, and be her champion! With that power, I shall rule this kingdom like our fallen Queen did. And humanity will fear for their lives no longer!"

Her words were like water to the parched townspeople. With this announcement, she took on a crown and the name of a long forgotten deity. Hera. She stripped herself of the gentle name Aelia, and also of her husband's surname. She taught the townspeople to wield swords and together they marched to the fallen capitol. She reunited with her old allies from the Queensguard. All which stood proud to support her, proud of the person they have forged.

Proud of the might of the Light that lead them blinded with fury. . .

Hera stands almost entirely covered in armour. A beautiful battle maiden that perhaps if things had gone differently, would never need such armour or fierceness. But fate is cruel, and so is humanity. To survive a world of cruelty, one too, must be cruel.

Perhaps in another life, peace may reign supreme. But not this time. To sustain humanity, they must be powerful. And for power to flourish, sacrifices must be made. Kindness was the first to approach the guilotine.