Backstory Summary

Annex was born as the heir to a powerful, yet typically solitary kingdom. 

As a child he only had the wings on his head, needing years of training and skill to earn as many as his mother and father 

His childhood was blissfully carefree, with the right balance of mischief and rule following. Between greeting guests kindly and always asking before leaving the table, it wasn’t uncommon to find him sneaking a pastry or swapping the sugar and the salt. 

He was taught with the stern hand of his father, who made sure his knowledge of history, politics, mathematics, literature, science, and everything in between was top-notch. Meanwhile, he was cared for under the watchful eye of his mother. She often sang for him and told him great tales of rulers and heroes, and always knew how to cheer him up. 

Unfortunately, those joyous days were snuffed out upon the loss of his mother. She had fallen violently ill with some taboo illness, one that caused feathers to wilt and skin to crack like porcelain. They later found it was from a type of flower, one that was popular as a decoration and that she always had at her bedside. 

No one had the strength to end her suffering early, and so she shriveled away to a better place, the very flowers that had killed her resting beside her deathbed.

It took Annex months to fully recover, though his father had a nation to run, and he knew that dwelling on his tears would only slow him down. 

He took on teaching Annex, this time taking on the role as teacher and caretaker. Annex’s life became more structured, more planned. The childish mischief had long since washed away, followed by a wave of studying and work. 

He was growing older, and soon it would be time to earn his wings. Trial upon trial, pair upon pair. By then he was in his early teens, and his time as ruler would soon come, as his father reminded him day in and day out. 

Though, the pressure of it all soon weighed down on him, crushing and squeezing him like boiling water in a pot. In the middle of a lesson about arithmetics or whatever it was, Annex had finally snapped at his father, crying out at everything that came to mind, everything that was hurting him. The pit of loneliness that’d been built up, the fear of what he was to face, the loss he felt for his mother- his mother who he missed so dearly, and then his father who did nothing but make him work. 

Everything past that was a blur. 

A bookshelf had been dragged down, his father had tried to calm him but he just ran. Ran from the study, down the halls, through more doors than he could count until he was finally outside, in the castle’s garden. He was tired, and numb, all he could think do to was traverse its catacombs of roses and lilies. 

From within the bushes and shrubbery he happened upon another. The daughter to the ruler of the neighboring country, who he’d never really spoken to. Though it was their first time they seemed to click, and Annex, strangely enough, earned his first pair of wings in that meeting.

Her name was Azalea, like the flower. She made Annex’s life manageable, and gave him the strength to continue on. Eventually her kind nature mixed with his father’s structured world, and Annex learned how he could better himself through his father, and gain the strength of patience and restraint through Azalea. 

With their help, struggles and challenges were overcome, and his wings began to grow in. Every new pair was worthy of celebration, and they served as milestones for him to watch himself grow. 

As his father stepped down, he and Azalea lived as rulers over Annex’s nation, the ties with Azalea’s home as strong as their love for each other. On their off days they would waltz in the palace’s great ballrooms and stroll through the garden, singing a song they’d come up with. It seemed as if their rule would be tranquil and forgiving, the world’s final kindness to Annex. 

Naturally, there was little kindness towards him.

Tensions between his and his wife’s nation were growing greater, and many had seized this opportunity for themselves, sending all manner of rumors floating about. Diplomats and generals alike tried to keep the peace, but to no avail. The two countries had come to clash with all manner of weaponry they had. 

Azalea’s kindness, and perhaps her hubris, had proven to be her downfall. In the midst of the battle she was killed alongside eleven other field nurses during a raid on their camp. Her body was never recovered, or was unidentifiable. 

When the news was brought to Annex, it seemed something had snapped inside him. 

The strength, the restraint, Azalea had given to Annex, was no more. *He* was no more. 

He’d grown for decades, every pair of wings granting him a new wave of power within him. Once wielded as a shield, it had become a spear with which he pierced the lands. 

Few survived that day, that day when the king fought. 

Reports were jumbled and mismatched, though everyone seemed to agree that from the tallest pillar of his castle he flew, soaring into the sky and diving to the ground, and when he reached the dirt there was nothing but light. Like staring into the sun, many said. 

Anyone inside the nation’s walls were burned. Their bodies were recovered years later outside its wall, the skin cracked like porcelain and eyes open wide. Nothing could get back inside, and nobody wanted to go inside. 

The Land of Silence had become Annex’s home, where he wandered his garden aimlessly. Many believe that if you’re very, very quiet, you can hear him singing a special tune.