Throne of Men, Wilds of Sky
ShortStory 3,832 words
But I am no king, no man. It is a role I assumed in serving, with perfect order, those who scarcely saw fit to name me. Wild and shimmering, I hide from myself no longer. I was born twice from death. It is time to mend what was broken, even if they will not.
Content warnings 2
child-deathillness-and-pandemic
Quasar links out; the story lives on Strange Horizons, where the author gets the click.