It was almost midnight, and I had to get up for work the next morning. Walking out the door, a hand grabbed me. Her again. She was afraid. She needed ...omeone to take her home. I felt mingled pity and disgust.Pity won. We made our way down Eighty-fourth Street under the harsh orange glare of sodium arc streetlamps. Where did she live? Some town on the Island. Long Island. Where the rich folks lived. What the hell had I gotten myself into?She wasn't a bad looking broad, maybe on the wrong side of. ‘Now, as I was saying. ‘Your birth was the real start of the Fifty Year War, believe it or not. It had been small tussles between our respective lands for thirty years before you were born, and twenty five before I was as born as well. But with your birth came the real war. You see, our Mother, who has now been dead since the start of the War as well, was a woman of Ferlet. And a beauty, at that. She was their King’s daughter, but she ran away when she was very young. Their King, whose name was. More

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