Deep in the Ambarian trenches, dug by the very prisoners that they confined, the never-ending battle between good and evil seemed to be coming to a momentary close. Prisoner 4,862 watched with horror as the two mistresses of the realm finished a dispute with an outcome that would most likely make life much worse for the people of Ambar.
“Leave this place, Cariania of Lunar! Leave and never come back, for you know what consequences await it you do!” The wicked one shrieked a mixture of
anger and delight shone through on her usually emotionless face.
The Lady of the Moon nodded solemnly and replied with only a twinge of sorrow seeping into her melodious voice “As you wish, dear sister. I shan’t return. You may rely on that.” A sad smile appeared on her face as she added, “Try not to be too cruel to the prisoners. You know as well as I do that the majority of them don’t deserve to be here.”
The wicked on snorted as the Lady of the Moon left. She whispered to herself in a voice that made the air on prisoner 4,862’s neck stand up, “Anyone who defies me will receive any fate I wish upon them. Ta-ta, dear sister. May we never meet again.”
The wicked one’s evil cackling didn’t seem to end. Prisoner 4,862 slumped down to the ground, trying to rock himself to sleep. He had only been stuck in this cell two out of the eight years of his life, but he already had an idea of what sort of torture the wicked one would inflict now that her sister wouldn’t be around to stop her. And what was worse, the fact that the wicked on wouldn’t let her sister live anywhere in the realm, so she would either be murdered by the wicked one’s henchmen, or be forced to enter the mundane world. The Lady of the Moon was the only one who could save the Realm of Ambar from the coming dark ages. Cariania had nowhere survivable to hide from the despicable Eskedielia.