"Mother's Flesh and Father's Bone,

On summer solstice will birth a Crone,

While ever loyal to her mother's eyes,

Will hate the father till his demise.

Her magic will is a strong as her heart,

Always seeking her mother's desire,

Until her spirit's an ashen pyre..."

The Queen whispered, her hands bleeding from the magic symbols she had made on the cold stone floor. She had to seal her unborn daughter's magic before it was too late... The armies had already invaded their port cities, showing the might of their almost endless patience. It was too late when their scouts across the sea sent word of an enormous armada invading their territories. Her daughter's birth was too close, too late for the chance of escaping beforehand.

"And if the spell remains on S-silver's Hill,

Her daughter too will follow her still.

The g-generations through the end,

Until endless coven of witches ascend..."

The queen's spell was complete. The symbols turned silver before disappearing into the stone.

Before hand, it had taken her weeks to find the books on witches, and months of research and bribery from the royal coffers on the spell itself. Her husband had no idea what she had done to preserve their heir to the throne. She may hate it; the child may rebuke the weight of royalty. Or the subjects would be appalled at the knowledge that their Queen is an abomination to the normal magic. But this was the only way to secure Estrye.

The queen braced herself as labor quickly kicked in. She rushed up the stairs to the best of her ability and as fate would have it, she found the small pack of midwives that always watched over her during her pregnancy.

"N-Netheril, The b-baby..." the queen stuttered, huffing from the pain and stress she put herself in by racing up the stairs.

"Hold on Erina," The head nursemaid said, immediately enforcing her command on her small group of fellow nurses into action. They rushed her into the birthing room and got to work.

Many hours, and lots of pain later, a sweet little baby girl was born.

"Hello little Seraph..." The queen huffed, still covered in sweat.

A maid ran through the door.

"Your majesty, enemy forces are here..."

"Netheril, You know what to do."

"But your majesty- "

"Do it, you know what's at stake."

"But you know what will happen if he is caught..."

"There's no time, give her to the Lord Alric."

"As you wish."

Netheril took the newborn princess from her mother's arms, and ran to the small hidden passage to the stables. A man stood their, his cloak making him look like a wraith.

"If you hurt her, or betray the crown-" The maid started.

"My loyalty remains with the Queen. Her heir will be safer across the sea. I promise on my honor and bloodline that she will remain safe and will be prepared for the day she takes back her rightful place on the throne."

Alric's line was known for loyalty and honor. The maiden never saw a person from that bloodline to ever falter on their promises.

She handed the small infant to the lord.

"Ride swiftly. We will not have another chance. I can see their torches just passing the forest border."

The lord left without another word.