Death was somewhat a stranger to Celeste Valois, until she saw the walls of her home painted red with blood. Then death became a constant companion, a shadow looming over her. She just wished it would take her, take her like it had taken everyone she loved. But it seems like she has a destiny to fulfill , a kingdom to save , a monster to kill and lives to change. A long path of suffering lies in front of her, but she won't be alone. There's a grey eyed boy with a heart full of hatred , a boy who's smile reminds her of the the sun and a girl who looks for stories in the stars ; they say they'll walk with her.

Or the story in which four traumatized teenagers save a country and realize that monsters are not born, they are created.

Ignis

Celeste stared at the blank parchment with distaste.Her hands were stained with ink and crumpled up paper balls were scattered around the room. Still, she had not written anything worth reading. It wasn't her fault she couldn't concentrate, she was completely exhausted. The war council had drained what remained of her determination. Not to mention, her uncle's words kept repeating in her ears. 


That was easier said than done. It wasn't enough supposed to be difficult. What was good and what was not? Celeste had thought she had a grip on that. It was a silly question. A simple question. 


And stealing, that was bad. But stealing didn't make people monsters. Just like lying or cheating didn't either. It just made them human. And humans were no angels. 


So what was not good was bad? Was it so simple? 


THIRTY EIGHT