The Black Star of the Fallen North Rises

Alexa Sviridova was born three years after Alterac fell.

She never knew her family as nobles, but her parents remembered it clearly enough for all of them. They remembered the estate, the servants, the family colors, the people who once treated the Sviridova name with respect. They remembered siding with King Perenolde during the Second War, and they remembered what came afterward.

The Alliance called it treason, her parents called it survival. When Alterac was broken and the nobles who had stood with Perenolde were stripped of their lands and titles, the Sviridovas did what many others did: They formed the Syndicate.

Alexa grew up among people who spoke constantly of what had been taken from them. The Syndicate, according to her parents, was not a gang of criminals. It was what remained of Alterac.

Alexa believed most of this when she was young. Her parents were her parents. Their enemies were her enemies. Their version of the world was the only one she knew.

They also trained her accordingly. She began with wooden swords while she was still small enough that the weapon felt too large in her hands. Her father taught her footwork, balance, and how to read an opponent's movement. As she grew older, wood became blunted steel. Then steel with an edge.

They were not raising a sheltered noble daughter. They were raising another Sviridova. Another sword for the Syndicate. Alexa, however, had a tendency to make things more dramatic than they needed to be. A simple downward strike became Falling Star: First Severance. A feint became Shadow Moon Reversal.

At eleven, after becoming fascinated with stories about cursed warriors and forbidden powers, she made herself an eyepatch from a scrap of leather. There was nothing wrong with her eye; that was irrelevant. When asked about it, she would lower her voice and explain that some things were better left sealed. Most adults assumed she would grow out of it. She did not. Instead, the persona became more elaborate.

Part of it was simply that Alexa thought it was cool. But part of it came from something less obvious. She had noticed the way people reacted to the Sviridova name. Even people who knew nothing about her personally knew enough about Alterac. The judgment came before she had done anything to earn it. So Alexa began to enjoy controlling the impression. If people were determined to see something ominous when they looked at her, she would give it to them. Not Alexa Sviridova, daughter of fallen nobles. Something grander. Something dangerous. Something entirely of her own making.

By fifteen, she had settled on the name Vespera Nocturne. It had taken several attempts, just like her title. The Black Star of the Fallen North.

For a while, it was still only a game. Then her father told her she was ready. A caravan would be traveling south of the mountains. Alexa would accompany some of the others and keep watch. She would not even need to fight unless something went wrong. Alexa had always known what her parents were. There had always been maps on tables, armed men arriving after dark, discussions about roads and patrols and merchants.

In the early morning hours, the day before she was to accompany them for the first time, she packed what she could carry and hopped out her window. She had no particular destination and very little money. She did, however, have a sword, a ridiculous title, and enough cringe to kill a horse.

She raised a hand in front of her face, fingers spread so she could peer through them. She practiced one of her lines as she walked. "Once, they called me the calamity beneath the northern sky. Then they buried my name beneath centuries of fear. Now the seal is broken. The world is not prepared! Ku ku ku!"