Dear Diary,

Hello! I have never had a journal before, but Alaric insisted that I needed to do something since I always seem to be on edge nowadays. Well I guess I should tell you a little about myself, shouldn't I? Okay, I go by many titles, mainly Queen Ethella of Vismara. Although I have been known to ignore the Queen part of my name, insisting that it be only Ethella. I am not of royal blood, and I therefore refuse to be known as Queen when all I have done is marry into the throne. Don't get me wrong, I love being Queen, but not for the authority. I love my husband, King Alaric, and my son Theo more than any jewel or crown in the world. Alaric just peeked over at what I was writing and told me to get to the point, so here we go! I have been having dreams every night since Theo was born, about fire and destruction coming my way. Every night it gets clearer, and more obvious. Last night was the worst, and I could see the whites of the soldiers' eyes as they slit the throats of my citizens, the pitch-black triangular symbol clearly visible on their blood coated tunics. I am a captive to these dreams, a bodiless being, forced to watch as my entire kingdom is viciously destroyed in the fire, unable to even shout a warning as my own husband is beheaded, and my one month old son is brutally mutilated. And every morning I wake up screaming, covered in sweat, the echoes of the soldiers shoes and the screams ringing in my ears. I rarely get any sleep now, and Alaric is constantly worried, but he hopes that writing in this diary will allow me to get the closure I need. He insists that it is only dreams, but I disagree. Some would call it intuition, others would say it's just paranoia. But I know otherwise. I am what some would call a witch, but I am partial to the term sorceress instead. Witch implies that I practice dark magic and curses, when in reality, I tend to avoid spells in general. To some, magic may seem like a blessing, to me it is a curse. It is the reason that I grew up without a true family, why I am cursed to see what will come to pass and what has already passed. I am not originally from Vismara. I was born in the neighboring country of Cilan, where having magic is a death sentence. I was five years old when I watched my mother be slaughtered by the very same black armored soldiers as I dream about every night, her crimson blood dripping into my eyes as I sprinted into the woods. I will forever remember the pain I felt when I finally escaped those men, and my young brain had the chance to relive what I witnessed for being a 'Witch'. I couldn't even breathe through the pain in my heart, I felt like I was suffocating in my own tears. And I would never forget my mother's face as the sword cut smoothly through her stomach. That is enough for today however, I don't think I will be able to write anymore.