Before the blood stained the river ,and before war horns broke the valley, there was only glance. Every story of our lands begins with an ending-the end of a truce, the end of a Dan-sty, the end of a life .for three hundred years the Cetus kingdom and the black hood defined themselves by what they could tear away form one another .we were taught the name of our enemies before we were taught the names of the stars . We learned to string the bow, to balance a blade , and to hate with a feral, unquestioning devotion. The border line was a scared, forbidden thing;to step across it was to invite the executioners axe .but destiny has a cruel way of ignoring the laws of men .