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July 3 - July 21, 2025
Aren Kertell was a man much discussed, though the rumors surrounding him were at odds with his recent actions. Actions that had the Maridrinian people singing his name in the streets, claiming him a king that all rulers should aspire to emulate.
“Ithicana is a nation built on secrets, and one must earn the right to know them.”
“Pay us or pay the tempests, Highness. Every traveler has a choice.”
“It is said the bottom of the Tempest Seas gleams with the gold spilled by a hundred thousand sunken ships, and that the treasure is guarded by the countless souls sucked beneath the waves, their greedy fingers always reaching up for more.”
“Peace is like a dance,” he said softly. “It only works if both partners are listening to the same music.” And Maridrina only knew the drums of war.
“Tears will not bring your mother back. Put all your sorrow and all your rage and all your passion into becoming a weapon, and fight to prevent this fate from ever befalling another Valcottan child.
To be impetuous was to invite disaster,
Curiosity had always been his greatest vice,
“Because I’ve seen enough death to last me a lifetime, and if I have my way, I’ll never be the cause of it.”
And you must take a hard look at yourself if you think a child of Maridrina is worth less only because they don’t bend the knee to the same crown.”
“Who are you?” “No one of consequence.
“All the books didn’t disappear from the world because your young self decided to abandon them. They are still waiting for you.”
Unfastening his coat, he reached inside and pulled a small volume from the inner pocket. “You have one with you?” “Always.”
the man that smells like leather and spice and reads books about stars?”
Aren. The Ithicanian king.
“A spy’s worth is not always in what they see and hear, but in how they interpret it.”
Of all the stars mapped in her mind, his burned the brightest.