Wit and Beauty

History was not only written by victors; it was carried by dreamers.
Loria remembered that truth from her earliest days, when she was a child listening to her father’s voice beside the fire. His words had been soft yet sharp, weaving images of a world before Facilis, a world where people had to fight, endure, and build with their own hands.

“One day, my daughter, you must make us proud—not by being what they expect of you, but by becoming more than even we could imagine. A name carries weight, but your choices carry the future.”

Those stories had built her dreams. She had imagined standing tall one day, not only as a protector of her people but as a symbol of strength—a reminder that even the descendants of Outsiders could bring honor.

But now, in the smoldering aftermath of chaos, those dreams seemed to waver.

Facilis was crumbling, order was breaking, and her loyalty to Wrex—her stubborn, fearless companion—was being branded as betrayal. Whispers already spread like wildfire: traitor, deceiver, sympathizer. Each word stung, yet none of them could shake the truth that burned in her heart.

She had chosen her path.

The woman who had saved her moved silently beside her. There was no name yet, no clear identity, only shadows wrapped in wisdom. Tonight, she finally spoke, her voice calm but heavy:

“Do you know why you are still alive, Loria? It is not coincidence. It is design. You are meant to see the cracks in this perfect world.”

Loria frowned, tightening her grip on her arms. “You speak as if everything I’ve lived for was a lie.”

The woman’s gaze hardened. “Not a lie. A performance. The Royal Family has written history as one writes a stage play—erasing what they despised, glorifying what served them. Even your family, the so-called Outsiders, were written into that script. But blood carries truths that ink cannot erase.”

Loria’s heart skipped. “My family… then Wrex?”

The woman did not answer. Instead, she leaned closer. “You will understand soon. What matters now is choice. Will you stay silent, or will you stand beside him when the storm tears Facilis apart?”

Loria thought of Wrex—of his haunted eyes, his restless ambition, his relentless pursuit of truth no matter the cost. She saw not just a fighter, not just the boy who once smiled in fleeting peace, but the man who could change everything.

In her chest, a quiet resolve began to take root.

Yes, she was beautiful—her people often told her so—but it was her wit, her will, her resilience that would matter now. To stand beside him was not vanity or desire; it was destiny.

Even if the world called her traitor. Even if the Royal Family stripped her of everything she once believed in.

She allowed herself to imagine, just once, a different future. A fleeting dream: not chaos, not exile, but standing with Wrex after it all, building something of their own. Perhaps even a family born not of legacy but of choice.

The thought made her lips tremble into a smile, bittersweet and fragile.

Night fell heavy. From the window of her shelter, the horizon glowed faintly with the fires of conflict. Loria whispered into the darkness, as if speaking to the stars themselves:

“The world may call me traitor. Let them. If it means I stand by his side, I will bear it. Wit, beauty, and resolve—that is my strength.”

The woman watched her quietly, eyes unreadable, but in her silence there was recognition. She knew Loria’s choice was already made. She knew the bond between her and Wrex would shape more than just the battles ahead—it would shape the fate of Facilis itself.

And though Loria could not yet see it, the path she chose would come at a price only the strongest hearts could endure.