The Stone Princess

By Ashtreetown

A/N: This is written for a Christmas gift exchange on Winx Club Fanfiction Challenges. Late Merry Christmas Art and have a Happy New Year.

Sunlight shined through the stained glass bouncing colours around the library- red and blue being the dominant colours. Not a speck of dust or dirt could be traced by the naked eye. Spiral stairs leading up twirling bookcases reached all the way up to the stained glass ceiling. A mosaic of colours filtered through the room giving it a fantastical ambience.

The glass double doors leading to the enchanted looking library slowly squeaked open. A young doe-eyed child lingered in the door way. Her hungry eyes shined as she eyed the tall book cases. She looked behind herself before carefully creeping in and closing the door gently. She stood on her tippy toes to pull the handle before closing it quietly. She tiptoed closer to the spiralling stair case- holding up her long silk nightgown so as to not trip. When she stepped into the sunlight her hair lit up like gold.

She edged her way up one of the stair cases- leaving lightly sweated foot prints on the glass steps. Her destination was at the very top where the colours clashed together. She knew exactly which book she wanted. When the red and blue lights met they created a third shade of purple light that shined directly on her book. It was what drew her to it originally. She pulled it off the shelf- it was big and heavy in her small arms. She sat on the step and cradled the book in her lap. The cover was a crimson red with gold writing and trimming. Dominian Royalty. She opened the book to the page she had left off- King Cyralus. Of all the royalty she had read about Cyralus was by far her most favourite. He could have anything he wanted. People yielded to his rule and fulfilled his every desire- but he was not unkind. He knew how to win wars and woo women. When there was something he wanted he went after it. The young blonde was intrigued by his life, his power, and his freedom. She engrossed herself into the book as much as she could but there some things she couldn't understand. Her father saw no use in her knowing how to read so she taught herself but there were some words she was still yet to learn. She looked at the illustrations of Cyralus on the opposite page. She thought him handsome- auburn hair and blue- grey eyes. But he also had rugged features that the girl had never seen before- prickly hair on his jaw and chin, a broad nose, and a prominent scar across his neck.

She wondered about the scar- how he got it. Someone had wanted to hurt him but he came out stronger. Sometimes people wanted to hurt royalty- she had heard the things the servants said about her own father. Perhaps then Cyralus had enemies closer than he thought- just like her father.

As she gently flipped the page over she heard the glass doors begin to open. In a flash she stood up and closed the book. She reached up to put it back in its place beneath the purple light. She trotted down the glass staircase.

"Diaspro! What are you doing here?" A hefty woman snapped. The young princess Diaspro sunk down as she made her way to the bottom of the stairs.

"You are forbidden to come in here Princess, your father has made that very clear" the woman said putting her hands on her hips. Diaspro crept towards her- her head still shrunken into her shoulders.

"I know, I'm sorry" she squeaked. "Please don't tell papa" She looked up at the woman who glared back down at her with stern eyes. The red light shining through gave her a sinister aura.

"I won't say anything but if I catch you in here again I will be forced to tell King Rubia and he will discipline you Diaspro" Diaspro nodded and put her hand out to the woman who took it gently into her own.

"Come now child, your hair is all tangled we can't have you looking bedraggled" they walked together out the door. Diaspro looked back behind at the double doors as they clicked shut. Through the glass she could see the colourful library sitting silently waiting for its next wanderer to happen by it.

A cold mist enveloped the Isis palace. The luscious garden lined with white roses hid beneath the haze of the mist. Young Diaspro stared into the misty void. The morning was quiet but not in a peaceful way- it was unsettling. No birds, or scurries from the garden, no rain drips, not even the sound of her mother's breath could be heard. Disapro's mother stood beside her staring out into the same garden- but her eyes looked just as hazed and empty as the mist. Her face was like porcelain, her body cold like frosted glass in the winter. Silence hung between them. Footsteps echoed from behind- the heavy silence made the footsteps sound much louder than they really were.

"King Rubia, you wished to speak with me?" a young voice said. King Rubia stepped up next to his wife and looked out over the misty garden. Diaspro looked at him sideways. Stress lines were forming on his masculine face- something that was rarely seen. She studied every small feature on his face while she had the opportunity to. Today was a bad day for him, she could tell just from the lines around his eyes. Diaspro turned her eyes forward when Rubia looked at his wife. She stood unmoving- unaffected by his gaze. One wouldn't have to stand back far to mistake her for a statue. Diaspro saw in her peripheral Rubia's gaze look down to her. She didn't dare return the look.

"Come with me young man" He said as he walked down the steps into the misty garden. The servant stepped next to Diaspro.

"Into the garden your majesty?" he questioned.

"Yes" Rubia said without looking back. The servant hesitated. Diaspro spared a quick glance. She saw the look of concern painted on his young face. Eventually he stepped forward and followed the king down the stairs into the ominous mist. The first thing Diaspro noticed was his rough hands. People of Isis did not have rough hands- not even servants. She watched the waves of the mist engulf him as he followed her father.

Diaspro stood for minute processing the roughness of his hands- he was not Isisian. At that moment she thought of Cyralus's scar across his neck- suddenly she realised who the servant was. She broke into sprint down the steps after them and let herself be consumed by the mist. Her mother still stood unmoving- barely a glimmer in her eyes.

Diaspro lifted her white dress and galloped through the white rose garden. Only able to see a metre ahead of herself. The thought of her father alone with the interloper made her sprint even harder. Bits of mud flicked up to her cream white dress. She kicked off her tight shoes as she ran. Her feet tingled at the sensation of touching damp grass. But she couldn't enjoy the moment of running through the mist- her father was in danger. Up ahead in the pale mist she saw two ghostly figures- one had their back to her. A lump caught in her throat and her lungs seem to shrink. She reached the two silhouetted figures in time to see one pull a sword from a sheath. Time slowed down around her as she stood barely a step from them. In one single breath she saw the sword be plunged through his chest. It pierced through to the other side- the tip poking out at the back. Blood flickered off the sword and splattered across the white petals and across Diaspro's fair face. She felt the tiny specks of blood collide with her soft skin. The sword was removed and the body collapsed to the ground at Diaspro's feet. Coloured drained from the young servant's face- ironically making him look more Isisian. King Rubia sheathed the sword into his belt and looked down to his daughter. A look of anger slowly spread across his face.

"Diaspro!" he scowled. He stepped forward but before he could even reach for her she bolted. She ran back through the garden. She ran even though her legs ached and her chest heaved. She ran until she tripped and slid across the grass. She lay in a heap on the cold damp grass and looked up at the eerie sky above. Her heart beat in her ears and her blood throbbed beneath her skin. She felt a dizziness fall upon her and suddenly she felt lightness across her body. She clutched the grass fearing she would float up in the air and be swallowed by the sky. She felt the soil that she sunk her fingers into. It was so damp and gritty- something she had never felt. She clenched her eyes shut and swallowed hard. In the exhaustion her body began shutting down. Her mind faded away but before she was lost completely in oblivion she heard a voice. My scar is my souvenir.

A thirteen year old Diaspro crept down the marble hallway. She moved closer and closer towards the double glass doors. She could see the mosaic lights shining through from the other side. She clutched a bejewelled gold key in her hand. When she got to the door she scanned her surroundings. Knowing she was alone she slipped the key into the lock and smiled as it clicked. She gently pushed the door open and slid inside, being sure not to make any noise as she shut the door. Once she was inside she looked around at the beautiful gleaming library. She felt her body relax.

"Cyralus?" She whispered into the crystal library. She looked around the stair cases and up above near the glass ceiling when she heard a voice from the glass doors.

I'm here Princess. She spun around and spotted the tall muscular man with scar across his neck. He had lopsided smile on his face that indicated to Diaspro he was feeling mischievous. She noticed he was looking more... there. Last time she had seen him he was still spectral enough that she could see through him. Now it almost looked like he was one of the living.

What are you wearing? she looked down at her dress.

"It's a corset"

Why are you wearing that?

"I must, it's to make my-"

I know what's it for and I can tell you this, you do not have the endowments necessary for a corset. I mean there's nothing to look at. Diaspro furrowed her thin brow.

"I am not an object to be gawked at!" she scolded. Cyralus smiled.

No, you're not. I'm glad you're realising this. Now tell me, what shall you be reading me today?

Diaspro stared at him for a moment- trying to decipher his thoughts. He stood looking back at her in all his royal grandeur. Hands behind his back, chest out, and a smirk across his lips. She wondered if he was always like this, or if this was his way of veiling his true emotions. Diaspro lowered herself on one of the glass steps. She leaned against the book case and closed her golden eyes.

What bothers you Princess?

"Where did you come from Cyralus?" she said without opening her eyes.

From Domino Princess

"No two hundred years ago you came from Domino, where did you come from when my father..." her breath went suddenly short. She began twirling her blonde curls around her finger.

I came from you. Diaspro opened her eyes- they were tired and glassy. "Why?" she whispered. Cyralus smiled down at her- his smile gave her a touch of comfort.

You want freedom Princess, but you don't know how to get it. I will guide you to your freedom, like I did the people of Domino. Diaspro took a deep breath and looked down at her feet- unsure how to process it all.

"How, Cyralus? I am not anything of value in my father's eyes"

Baby steps Princess, we'll start by taking off that ridiculous garment.

The enchanting sound of violins and a lone harp floated through the air across the grand ballroom. When Diaspro closed her eyes and focused on the music she could create the illusion that she was alone in the music. But when she opened her eyes to see the hundreds of people in the room with her a sense of dread filled her.

All around her people were dressed in decadent gowns that shimmered beneath the mage lights. It was Isisian tradition to wear elaborate garments and facial designs. People transformed themselves into beautiful but strange beings. They wanted to appear as more than just mortal- and at Isisian parties the royal family and nobles did just that. Diaspro wore a long red velvet dress with a pure golden lace cape trailing behind her. A single ruby on her chest connected the cape to her dress. Her eyes were coloured in a dark smoky red with glittering golden eyelashes. She had detailed floral painting on one side of her face. It bared only black and gold yet it was skilfully painted coming out of her eye and spread all the way down her neck. It took six hours for the maids to dress her.

Just when I thought Isis couldn't be any more pretentious. Diaspro flinched at the voice. Cyralus had materialised beside her. She looked at him- he was looking into the crowd with his usual analytical stare.

"It's tradition" she said flatly.

It's ridiculous Cyralus retorted. Diaspro's lip curled slightly- so did Cyralus's. Inside her chest she felt a warm glow begin to spread. She was becoming more familiar with the warm feeling. Ever since Cyralus had come into her life she began experiencing things she never knew existed- such as warmth. By his side she suddenly didn't feel so suffocated in the ballroom.

It's snowing outside Cyralus stated. He looked up to the glass ceiling above the ballroom.

Have you ever touched snow Diaspro?

"I'm not allowed outside during winter- father says the cold will harm me" Cyralus finally looked down at her- his brows furrowed.

"But once, when I was a little girl, I opened my window and put my hand out. I caught a single snowflake, it was beautiful and I wanted to keep it but it melted in my palm"

How could something so beautiful and delicate be deadly Diaspro? She saw the sincerity in his eyes. Diaspro couldn't pull herself away from him. Out of the hundreds of people in the room only he could make feel something. She wasn't even sure that he was truly there.

"Princess Diaspro" a voice pulled her from Cyralus's aura. She turned to see a castle servant bow to her.

"Your father requests your presence" he said coldly. Diaspro looked back at Cyralus.

I'll wait for you.

She couldn't look away from him as she moved through the crowd. She worried that if she looked away he would disappear forever- she clenched her fist tightly to control her anxiety. The warm glow in her chest dwindled with every step she took. It was all but gone when she was met by the cold gaze of King Rubia. He was decorated in similar attire as his daughter and wife- black, gold, and red. Beside him was a young pompous boy. He looked to be older than her but not yet into manhood.

"Diaspro, this is Jerrick a nobleman of the Isisian court" her father said callously. She could feel his eyes drilling into her. Like magic she began yielding to the power of his stare.

"Jerrick, it is a pleasure to meet you" she said as she bowed to him. The boy Jerrick who looked to be no older than seventeen stepped forward and took Diaspro's hand. He kissed it gently and said to her.

"The pleasure is all mine Princess Diaspro" she was taken aback by his charm but the moment was ruined when she caught him looking her down. She found it normal for a pubescent boy to desire her- she was undeniably beautiful. But Jerrick's hungry eyes did not lust for her beauty. His appetite was for wealth. Diaspro knew this as the first thing he did was look for a ring on her finger. To his delight there was none. Diaspro understood this hunger all too well. She was the sole child of the King and Queen but her gender made it impossible for her to inherit the throne solely- she would be forced to marry.

"King Rubia, may I take your daughter for a dance?" Jerrick asked confidently. Rubia nodded and looked back to Diaspro. The stern look he gave was enough to allow herself be dragged on to the dance floor. Jerrick led her to the centre- directly beneath the chandelier. He wrapped an arm around her waist and took her hand in his. He curled his fingers into hers. He was trying his best to appear romantic but the wide toothy grin across his boyish face soiled his efforts. Diaspro's own face mimicked a statue- beautiful but unmoving. Jerrick led her through the dance- and Diaspro followed. The warmness had been completely extinguished- all she felt now was an empty hollowness.

"My, my, Diaspro, you are an avid dancer. I truly admire your posture" he said charmingly.

"Thank you" she said bleakly. He looked around the room- the glamour of it all titillating his senses.

"Isn't this wonderful Princess, you are so lucky to be born into this" he said still looking all around.

He was like child in a candy shop barely able to focus on a single thing. He just wanted it all. Diaspro kept her head low and focused on finishing the dance.

"And you are so beautiful Diaspro. Your father is truly a generous man" Diaspro was so empty that she couldn't even find the energy to react to what Jerrick was saying. She knew what was happening- or what had happened. The conversation that had just taken place between Jerrick and her father- possibly with Jerrick's father.

"You are an agreeable woman" he laughed. Diaspro had never been referred to as a woman- she was not even fifteen yet. She did take the comment as a compliment. She had barely even shown signs of magic- she was nowhere near ready to be considered a woman. Jerrick leaned in and nuzzled her neck.

"You are truly beautiful Diaspro, beauty worthy of a King; I will never leave you depraved of anything. You will be fed the finest foods and clothed in the finest jewels" Now his adolescent libido was speaking. His talk of depravity made her think of her mother- how she was depraved of life. Jerrick drew in a deep breath- letting himself get drunk on her perfume. To her it was simply orange and ginger spice, to him it was an aphrodisiac. A curling in her gut made her long for compete solitude. Jerrick continued to swing Diaspro around the dance floor- he laughed in complete bliss. Diaspro felt the world spinning around her- now she couldn't focus. She felt like a ragdoll in Jerrick's arms- unable to move or control herself.

Take it back! Take your life back!

Diaspro brought her feet back to the ground and stepped forward onto Jerrick's foot. In a single motion he lost his balance and fell to the marble floor. Diaspro stood over him- not a single hair out of place. On the other hand Jerrick's eyes swelled as he rubbed his rump.

"You insolent harlot! Why did you do that?" he quivered. Other dancers had stopped to help him off the ground. He pushed them away and pulled himself up.

"I'm sorry, it was an accident" she said flatly. He narrowed his eyes at her trying to read her face. But she was like stone.

"You will learn how to dance properly before we are married" he spat. Jerrick shrugged a hand off his shoulder and retreated into the crowd. Diaspro stood unmoving as the onlookers returned to their dance.

Follow me outside Cyralus's disembodied voice rang in her ears. Without further prompt she turned and moved between the people towards the tall double doors. Guards stood on either side but she knew they wouldn't stop her. The only thing that ever stopped her from going out into the winter cold was her father's stare- but Cyralus's voice was stronger.

She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. She felt the harsh pinch of the cold air. She looked around the palace garden- it was completely still other than the snow drifting down from the ebony sky.

Follow me Diaspro the warmth in her chest flickered at the sound of Cyralus's voice. She trotted down the frozen steps. Her foot sunk into the snow when she reached the bottom. She began dragging herself through the snow towards Cyralus. She moved between the rows of frozen roses. She began to shiver uncontrollably but she was determined. Finally she spotted his silhouette and glided towards him. He turned around and greeted her with a smile. She didn't say anything back- she just stared with pleading eyes.

I know was all he said. He looked back at her empathically. There was something in his eyes- trust- that gave her both comfort and hope.

Lay down Diaspro, rest your weary eyes. She lowered herself onto the soft, cold snow. She felt tiny jabs like needles on her bare skin but she ignored it. She lay onto her back and looked up into the starless sky. It was like staring into an abyss- an abyss that beckoned her. She felt the tickling on her face as snowflakes landed gently on her bare skin. Out in the freezing cold, lying on a bed of ice, she felt overwhelming serenity.

What is your wish Diaspro?

"Freedom" she whispered to the cold air.

Then stay here with me, and your wish will be granted.

Diaspro closed her eyes. Her fingers and toes went numb and her body shivered yet the warmth in her chest burned hotter than it ever had before.

I'll guide you to freedom Princess.

Her eyelids froze and her face felt like cold stone. She felt her blood rush through her veins desperately trying to keep her warm. But the winter cold seeped closer to her bones.

Just trust me

She stopped shivering. Her body felt detached. All she felt now was the warmth in her chest. She welcomed the feeling of nothingness. Soon, nothing was all she felt.

Sunlight broke through the clouds and shined its aura on the Isis palace. In the garden the dew on the petals and grass leaves glittered. To Diaspro it looked like a shining mirage. The light danced around garden freely and effortlessly. Buds of yellow and pink roses began to spread their petals and welcome the sun. The last of the snow melted into the green grass. The Isis palace garden was the epitome of beauty. Diaspro admired it from a second floor window. She had only just gotten colour back in her cheeks.

She thought of Cyralus- she missed him dearly. She never saw him after the night in the snow. Perhaps she would have if she hadn't of been found by the guards. Her father had been right about the winter ice- it was dangerous. But deep down inside she had always known that- catching the snowflake had confirmed that a long time before. It wasn't ignorance or curiosity that led her out there- it was her heart-wrenching desire to be free. But when she woke up inside the palace beside a warm fire, her body ice cold, and her breath short, she knew she was never meant to escape.

She rested her heavy head on her arms as she leaned on the windowsill. The dancing light outside got caught in the golden orbs of her eyes. She looked up at the ancient sun as it glimmered from behind a grey cloud. Her thoughts wondered the winding corridors of her mind. That went nowhere and found nothing. When the sun hovered out from behind the cloud a shimmer caught her eye.

It was light off a gold crown. Two figures hovered in the blooming garden. Their crowns shining like the sun itself. One was a hefty man in pompous attire. Beside him was tall slender woman in an emerald green dress. Diaspro sat up to open the window. A light breeze blew in from outside carrying with it wafts of lavender and honey. The woman turned to face the castle, Diaspro leaned out the window to look at her. She had strong shoulders and maintained posture. It was obvious to Diaspro she was a Queen- but not one she had ever seen before. The Queen's head tilted up and Diaspro swore she was looking right at her. A flood of adrenaline coursed through her body. She began walking through the garden towards the palace. Diaspro watched her the whole way until she disappeared beneath her. Something stirred inside her- a feeling she was familiar with. The warm glow flickered ever so slightly inside her. Diaspro sat back down and looked out the window again. The King was still outside admiring the garden- King Rubia had joined him.

Diaspro couldn't understand why she felt excited about the Queen. Seeing her standing in the garden, the way the sun hit her crown, the way she wondered away from her husband. There was something majestic about the way she moved. Diaspro thought about seeing her up close- but she was to remain in her room. She didn't dare go against her father's orders- she knew better now.

"Princess Diaspro" Diaspro looked to her open door to see a servant waiting for her.

"A guest has requested to see you" he said. Diaspro slowly stood up. Her eyes wide open. She nodded at the servant. He stepped aside and allowed her guest to walk in.

There she stood in all her regal command- the Queen. Diaspro drank in her appearance. She was an aging beauty. She wore precious stones on her fingers and ruby and emerald necklace around her slender neck. She had a pointy chin and admirable high cheekbones. She had enchanting moss coloured eyes. Her burgundy hair reached down to her waist. Her cheeks were ripe with blushing colour.

"Hello Princess, I am Queen Samara" she tilted her head in greeting. Diaspro was caught up in the moment- she just stared back at Queen Samara.

Your freedom Diaspro heard Cyralus speak. She almost flinched at his voice. She looked around but couldn't see him.

Is in her.

"I am Princess Diaspro, I bid you welcome your majesty" Diaspro said as charmingly as she could. Samara gave a weak smile.

"You do not join your father in the garden with his guests?" she asked.

"I've been told to stay in here until I'm of full health"

"You look healthy to me, your mother on the other hand could use some sunlight" Samara stared at Diaspro the same way her father did, but it did not fill her with fear. She had an air of authority about her that Diaspro took pleasure in. Her thoughts went back to Jerrick and his envy and lust- Diaspro felt the same way about Queen Samara.

"I would also like to feel the sun. My father is over-protective" a crook appeared on the side of Samara's mouth. She began wondering around the room. Her eyes drifting between the decorations and Diaspro.

"A Princess should not be treated like a prisoner, but each to their own I suppose"

"Women are not seen as value on Isis, which is why I wonder why you can wonder around so freely" Samara stopped and looked at her. Diaspro stared back with doe-like eyes.

"I am Queen of Eraklyon, your father bends his knee to me and my husband as you do to him" Diaspro's breath went short for a moment. She had never imagined another person could rule over her father- especially a woman. But in way Diaspro wasn't surprised, Samara had an allure that could make any person yield to her.

"I've read of Eraklyon, your history is truly worth admiration" Samara eyes flickered up to Diaspro.

"It is full of bloodshed- and still is"

"Civil war divides you I know... but that is how Eraklyon earned its iron fist. Without it, you would be nothing more than what we are" Samara gave a small chuckle.

"You're mother is like stone- cold and quiet. But you are very different. Talkative and much more welcoming"

"My apologies for my excitement, I've never met a Queen, nor have I ever been to Eraklyon. But I can assure you I am well versed in your traditions and history" Samara looked out the same window Diaspro had been looking out earlier.

"Why do you think your father bends to us Princess?"

"The Glass Throne is no match for the Iron Fist" Samara lingered at the window. She said nothing in return.

"Queen Samara?" Diaspro said in a brittle voice. Samara waved to her husband out the window.

"Your father speaks of you as a burden" Diaspro lowered her eyes to floor.

"I have caused him much grief with my... persistence" Samara turned from the window and looked at Diaspro.

"Then I shall have to teach you proper manners" Diaspro furrowed her brow.

"What do mean your majesty?" Samara walked towards the door.

"Your father has called upon us for a favour, to sculpt his daughter into a true Princess and I shall do it but it will require you to leave Isis behind" Diaspro's shoulders slumped. She is in disbelief of what she was hearing.

"Leave?"

"Yes leave, to Eraklyon. You will become my protégé, I will teach and you will learn. In exchange for taking you off your fathers hands we will integrate you into the Eraklyoneese court" Samara walked to the door way and looked back at Diaspro.

"Come now Princess, our ship is waiting" she disappeared out of the room before Diaspro could fathom what has just surpassed. She glided out the door and through the palace- she felt like she was walking on air. Out in the sparkling garden was Samara her husband and King Rubia with her stone-like mother. Diaspro stepped out the door. They all looked to her- she had no idea what to say or do.

"Diaspro, this is my husband King Erendor" Samara indicated to the obese man standing next to her. Diaspro bowed awkwardly. She was still unsure if it was all a dream or if her father had truly given her away. She looked at her father to see any signs of what he was thinking. He stared back with tired eyes- they were not stern or cold just tired. Suddenly it all came together. Her father was not giving her away- he was selling her. After all these years of being worth nothing in his eyes she finally had value to him. What is was she didn't know- she didn't want to know. Perhaps it was for a son, or a bigger palace, or perhaps she stopped the Iron Fist from dropping on top of the Glass Throne. Either way she couldn't help but feel she was one step closer to freedom. The warm glow began to spread around her body, filling the dark crooks of her mind and spread to her toes and fingertips. She looked up into King Erendor's golden crown and saw her reflection shining back at her. She stood in a red and white decadent gown wearing Cyralus's crown beside her was Cyralus smiling back at her.

"I understand what I have to do"

A/N: First of all sorry for my terrible punctuality- I'll be late to my own funeral at this rate. My excuse is that halfway through the original story I had inspiration for the same prompt that was very different from what I was writing thus a rewrite was in order. This is the newer and better version of what I was writing originally. Art I hope you enjoyed this, it does drift pretty far from the prompt you gave me but it is very Diaspro focused (Duh).

I actually found this to be difficult to write, 1. Because it had a deadline and I suck at deadlines (in case you couldn't tell), and 2. I've never really thought much about Diaspro or her background so this was definitely going outside my comfort zone which is really good- makes for a good writing exercise. Otherwise I really did enjoy this challenge and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Side note: in case I'm too subtle in the story Cyralus is not a ghost from the past that has been sent to help Diaspro (that was my original idea) but is actually just an extension of Diaspro. I guess you could say he's an imaginary friend that Diaspro has created based on an old king (of Domino) that she read about as a child. I'm not telling this to be condescending but just to ensure you're not left scratching your head. Anyway if you enjoyed this- that's fantastic because I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think in a review. Again thanks for reading.