~SOME THIRTY YEARS BEFORE
ON THE WHITE THRONE OF SYVERIA sat King Vaster of House Pierran: the Third of his Name, Sovereign of the Summerlands, and Lord of the South. He bent over the seat of ivory in a contemplative crouch, his elbow bent over the ornate arms of the throne. His fingers lightly brushed at the beard of his chin and his blue eyes sought out the emptiness of the massive Throneroom.
Vaster the Third had ascended the White Throne some twenty summers ago and had now being ruling the kingdom of Syveria for a time north of two decades. The Empire had prospered under his reign but nothing compared to the great feats of Nihila. At least the Icelanders hadn't attacked yet. He scratched more at his chin, his fingers scraping the scruff of his blonde beard.
