--Rose's POV--

We walked...well I limped, into the kingdom while the citizens stopped and turned to look at Michaelangelo and I as we entered through the gates of the palace.

Almost immediately, servants were on either side of me rushing us into the palace as quickly as I could hobble along.

"Set her down on the bed."

I heard Michaelangelo say, everything was a little fuzzy although the pain in my body was starting to subside bit by bit.

My head rested on a plush pillow as someone pried the shoes from my feet and ripped the shirt from my drenched body.

It was neither rain nor sweat, so what could it have been?

As I lifted my hands up to eye level I saw red...literally.

I had blood on my hands, my blood.

Had I been coated in my blood all this time?

I guess I knew why Michaelangelo was so eager to get through the portal.

How long was I bleeding for?

What was I bleeding from?

So many questions raced through my mind at the speed of light, I didn't realize the cold towel being placed over my forehead or Michaelangelo's pleas as he was literally held back by five or more doctors and servants until I could no longer see him.

"Welcome..."

"Don't be frightened, you're not dead I promise...no I have a very special plan for you."

As I turned to face who I thought I was to be facing I felt my palms run slick with sweat.

"Malachi..."

She smiled and extended her hand which I hesitantly took, and with that...she showed me a new world.

The story behind Malachi began thousands of years ago, she was betrothed to the most horrible and cruelest of men.

His name?

Marak Tokono.

The most powerful of tribe leaders, he had many women in his life but none like Malachi.

Some say that she was the fire and he was the ice, the perfect combination to the perfect weapon.

Once they were married, Malachi's sister, Nuromi, jealous of her sister, tried to soil their relationship by seducing Marak but he wasn't having it and so he had her executed.

Malachi, naturally was furious and heartbroken, furious that she didn't have the chance to slay her own sister for the crimes she had committed and heartbroken because of her sister's intentions.

As their relationship progressed, Marak no longer needed to share his bed with other women and instead vowed his loyalty to his wife.

Along came their first born child, although technically Marak had many children but all were mothered by countless women.

Malachi's son, Nonotoka was the first prince of the Firomi tribe.

Marak, fearing that his true son would be overthrown by one of his bastard children, had his men go to every house of every woman he had slept with and kill his offspring.

In the end, a total of fourteen children were slain.

As Nonotoka grew he followed his father's footsteps, strong, powerful yet graceful and somber.

In the winter of Nonotoka's fifteenth year a war came upon the tribe of Firomi.

Marak and Nonotoka set out with five hundred men and boys aged fourteen and older.

Malachi stayed with the tribe and her four other children that Marak had given her, all boys.

He did not promise that he would return, for he knew not if he would.

The night that the men set out, Malachi was in the tent with her children when a woman appeared, one of Marak's women.

Her son was alive, she had hidden him and given the guard her husband's bastard child.

Upon her husband's return she had told him that he was taken by wolves, she felt that Marak's son was more important than a bastard of a whore.

Belifta had the boy trained to hate his blood father and his queen, she made him believe that Nonotoka was not Marak's true son and that Malachi was the one who ordered his death, not the king.

When the boy neared the tent, spear in hand, ready to kill, Malachi charged him and broke the spear over the boy's head, knocking him unconscious, Belifta fearing for her own safety, fled.

Malachi dragged him into the tent, tied him up and waited.

After the boy's confession of his mother's orders Malachi decided to have the tribe burn the boy for his attempted crimes, if his true mother cared about her son, the bastard of Marak, she would stop them...but she did not.

She watched as the flames engulfed her son, she heard the screams spill from his mouth and saw as everyone kicked the ashes of her son away as if they hadn't just burned someone alive.

Belifta killed herself the following day of her son's death, to her having to face Marak's wrath was far worse than taking her own life.

Upon Marak's return Nonotoka had been injured and beaten almost to the point of death but since his return his eyes were older, his face scarred and body stronger.

Nonotoka was no longer a boy, he was a man.

At the age of twenty one, Nonotoka became betrothed to a woman of his tribe, a woman of honor.

A woman he grew up with, someone he'd known all his life.

Alas, he did not want her, so he turned her away.

As he fought in the war, he felt his love for Laykani, the princess of a neighboring tribe, surface and build.

Marak did not approve although he did see it as a way for both tribes to come together, and so he gave his crown to Nonotoka.

The young king married Laykani and forced her into bed, because of course...who could love a monster?

Laykani produced many daughters for the king, three of them did not survive his wrath and power, so he lay with another woman.

Halani.

The woman he was originally betrothed to.

Halani had waited for the king for seven years, knowing he would one day want her as many men wanted her, and together they had five beautiful children, four boys and one girl.

Laykani was known for her beauty to the king when he first saw her, but as he grew older and stronger he realized that he did not love her, that she was not his true woman.

He talked with his father, asking him for advice, when his father could not answer, his mother did.

"Kill Laykani, have one of your men do it. Meet with him in private and tell him to kill the queen, after it is done, kill him. Bring your children and your wife into your home and you shall have your true heir, not some bastard son."

Marak and Nonotoka were surprised at Malachi's answer but nevertheless, Nonotoka was King, and so Laykani was killed.

The two daughters that had survived their father grieved for their mother as she was the only parent to show affection for them and eventually were sent to the north side of the tribe where they were cared for by a number of servants.

Malachi and Marak lived for many years ruling along side their son and watched as many of their other children perished in the wars of the tribes, only the strong could survive the worst of times, and Nonotoka was the strongest.

Malachi, a dream teller betrothed at the age of fifteen and Marak and tribe King married at the age of twenty five both lived for many years until Marak's death.

When a King dies, his queen must perish with him, and although the firey queen and the icy king never showed their affections, they loved each other too much to let each other go. So Malachi burned with her husband but their story lived forever.

••

"Follow me, I have much to show you."

Malachi smiled as she led me towards the brighter area of what looked to be a forest of some sort.

I brushed past the shrubbery and followed Malachi into a flat, open area of land.

"What...where are we?"

I asked Malachi as she led me further into the land.

"Look closely, open your eyes."

I didn't fully understand what she meant until I closed my eyes and truly listened, it's when I heard everything.

Things I couldn't hear until now.

"Open your eyes."

Malachi's soft voice chanted until I felt my eyes flutter open and I took in my surroundings.

The tents, the children, laughing, playing, the women smiling and fixing quilts, shirts and garments as they watched their children play together.

The men fought with their sons, teaching them to fight, spear fish, and live off of the land.

Where was I?

"This...is the Firomi tribe."

I cocked my head to the side, the Firomi tribe?

It was a myth, a legend, even if it was true the story was over a thousand years old.

"We've all been cursed Rose of Ganandor, cursed with agelessness. My son, Nonotoka, his wife and sons all perished in the great winter of Ninyanak but...because of my love for my son, a curse was struck upon us forever binding our souls to roam the Earth forever.

"Your son? Nonotoka is here?"

I asked thoroughly confused.

Malachi sighed and shook her head sadly.

"My son and his family are dead, they do not have to suffer as his people do."

I tried to wrap my head around all of this.

"But...but your husband-"

She shook her head again.

"My husband and I tried to die, multiple times we threw ourselves into the ocean, impaled each other with knives...nothing worked.

Ninyanak grew angry with the people of Firomi and our ways of life, he did not like that we fought for our land, he thought we should share it as brothers and sisters.

He did not like that we killed each other for food when there were many resources around us.

It is a myth that the fire killed the both of us when really...we were held back in time."

I didn't know what to think.

"But...you said Ninyanak punished your son as well."

"My son...my son is Michaelangelo."

I shook my head and felt light headed.

"I'm sorry?"

I replied, it was all too much.

"Every hundred years, my son is reborn, Nonotoka and his family did not survive the wrath of Ninyanak because they were not strong enough, it was a message from the Dream Walkers, Nonotoka was my first born...but that does not mean he was the heir to the throne."

She took a breath and continued.

"I was afraid for him. Moraoro was off at war during the great winter...and he was the only one to return alive. That was when we knew...Moraoro was the true King, yet he was the youngest. Unmarried, a soldier...my son. As punishment, Ninyanak took him away from us, cursed him with the same fate and sent him to live with peasants...he's been reborn thousands of times and you-Rose of Ganandor-you can stop the Dream Walkers from doing this again."

After moments of silence between the two of us had passed I finally spoke.

"How do I do it?"

Malachi nodded and took my hand in hers.

"You have to die."