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I, Alyssa of Allyria, was born during one of the worst storms my country had ever experienced. My father, the wise King Bram, was flitting between the rooms that held his wife and daughter, respectively. His wife, my mother was on her death bed.
“Milord,” she rasped, “please take care of our daughter. She will be a great queen someday.”
“Allegra, you will be fine. We will both take care of our daughter. We will both see her grow up and become a great queen.”
“Please,” my mother had said, “take care. Her name shall be Alyssa.”
With those words, my mother, Queen Allegra of Allyria, passed away, leaving behind her kingdom, her husband, and her infant child. Me.

When I was about six or so, I started seeing things. Bright or dark colors that were feelings, they were worn by unsuspecting people like shrouds. No one else could see them, but I could. I didn’t tell anyone for fear that I would be carted off to some dreadful institution. It was safe to be normal, especially if you were a princess.
My father hired tutors for me around the same time that I began seeing auras. Of these, my favorite was my history tutor. He sincerely enjoyed teaching me, and I, in turn, enjoyed learning from him. His mind was sharp and full of wit.
Until Sir Peter had come along, I had not known what lay beyond the boundaries of the lands I would one day rule. He told me that on either side of Allyria lay two kingdoms. The people of those kingdoms were unlike us. Entina was to the north. The people there were known as vampires. They made their meals of blood. When I had heard this, I had recoiled with disgust.
“Blood?’ I had gasped.
“Don’t worry, sweet,” he’d said soothingly. “They do not drink human blood, mostly animal blood.”
He’d then gone on to explain about the people of Firimas. Firimas was at our southern border. The people there were called lycans. They were able to shapeshift into wolves. My tutor told me of the war between the two countries. He’d looked out into the fading light of the setting sun and smiled.
“I’ll have to leave now, Princess,” Sir Peter had said.
“Where are you going?” I had asked.
“To see a battlefield. Perhaps I’ll tell you a story upon my return,” he’s replied. Sir Peter left me with some thoughts for our next lesson.
The next morning, I eagerly awaited his return. Hours passed and I grew worried. Late in the afternoon, my nursemaid, Madeleine, entered my chambers. She sat down beside me and informed me of Sir Peter’s death. I’d asked her how it had come to be. She told me that he had been attacked by rogues from Entina and Firimas. I had stared at her in horror.
“He wasn’t on their lands or in their war,” I had cried.
Madeleine explained to me that from time to time the war would spill onto Allyrian soil. I sent her away so I could think.
I remembered Sir Peter’s aura. It had been bright and colorful. He had been honest, kind, and generous his entire life. He had never been married, because he had never found the right women. He had been a great man with a kind heart. This was the first time I had lost someone to the war.