Nearly one hundred years ago, a shapeshifting Chieftain and his tribe lived along the great reef that borders the southern edge of the Baltian kingdom. Though they mostly kept to themselves unless called upon by the Queen herself, whispers and rumors came in abundance from outsiders whom had the displeasure of making contact with the shapeshifters: Arrogant, barbaric, and cruel, reports that abuse of their females was rampant were not uncommon. They would cast their daughters aside in favor of their sons, ignoring the laws of inheritance; mares who spoke out for their daughters were traded off, exiled, or worse yet made an example of and then ceremoniously executed in front of the rest of the tribe.

One such mare was named Kaos.

Though at first she was loved dearly and greatly favored by the Chieftain himself (childhood sweethearts—a love match, if you will), she bore him only living daughters and only ever gave birth to one stillborn son. Angered by the birth of the stillborn colt, the Chieftain grew increasingly distant from his once-favored lover and even began ‘culling’ most of their daughters out of spite. The smallest of offenses became their children’s death sentences, until eventually, only their eldest daughter remained. Not long after the death of his and Kaos’ third daughter, the Chieftain began taking other wives whom gave him the sons he had wanted.

Kaos, already mad with grief, was enraged to find out he planned to pass up their daughter—Nysa, the eldest of all the Chieftain’s children—in favor of the son he had had with her rival. She begged with him, pleaded, and when he told her he planned to pass Nysa off to another tribe whom were also known for their cruelty, Kaos turned into a Great White Shark and attacked the Chieftain’s new self-declared ‘Queen,’ killing her.

Nysa watched her mother be tortured to death, almost numb to it after witnessing the slayings of her sisters. She didn’t cry for her, though she could feel what little was left of her heart breaking; crying would do her no good, after all. Her only concern now was simply surviving the hell she had now inherited from her mother.

The Chieftain, rather than sending her off as he had originally intended, kept her prisoner in their fighting pit. Day after day, she was bombarded by an onslaught of stallions and colts whom all knew they would be greatly rewarded if they could kill her. Day after day, they were dragged from the pit by their fellow tribesmen before she could kill them. At night, she slept uneasily. Afraid they might come for her while she was sleeping and kept up by the burning and stinging of her wounds, Nysa was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that she couldn’t keep up the good fight forever—it was simply fact. As long as she was in the Pit, her death was a certainty. An inevitability.

All she could do to soothe herself once the idea settled in that she would die soon was promise herself that they would remember her, that she would leave them scars.

During Nysa’s time in the Pit, the Queen had sent out her annual call to remind her subjects that it was time to pay their tithe. The Chieftain, now backed by his many sons and other tribesmen, scoffed and sent back his own envoy to refuse—publicly declaring his independence from Baltia and urging the other tribes and the rest of her subjects to the same.

Queen Tsilutsuli sent one of her own envoys back with his messenger’s head, along with a warning: “Pay the tithe or your bloodline will end with you.”

Shaken, but undeterred, he refused.

When the Queen’s soldiers came, it wasn’t in the dead of night or while the tribe slept. They came while the tribe was awake and fully aware of what was about to happen—again, the Queen demanded her tithe. Again, the Chieftain refused and a small skirmish ensued.

Before nightfall, the Chieftain and his sons and his tribe and all their women were no more. Queen Tsilutsuli outlawed even so much as the mention of his name, intent on erasing him entirely from existence—but then her soldiers brought a young mare forward, badly wounded and hardly able to stand.

Nysa almost couldn’t meet the Queen’s gaze, but someone forced her to. When questioned on who she was and what had happened to her, Nysa spoke only the truth and told the tale of what had happened to her mother and how she had been spending her time fighting for her life in the Pit.

“I had neither love for nor loyalty to my father,” Nysa said, and though she hadn’t wanted to look at the Queen before, her eyes only shifted between the two heads and their two sets of eyes before she continued: “Let me live and I will defend you for the rest of my life—as if it were my own.”

Queen Tsilutsuli pardoned the girl for the crimes of her father and brought her back to the inner parts of the kingdom—allowing her the much needed time to rest and heal. Nysa later joined the ranks of Baltia’s military and continues to loyally serve the Queen.