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Paradox _ the Angels Are Here
Since the beginning of time there has always been two things that change lives forever – War. The other - Love. My life has not been an exception to either. Juliette.
How far would you go to find the love of your life?
This magical tale begins with Juliette telling a story about a war that began in 1080 AD during the March equinox.
Under the complete cover of darkness, The Grigorian army rose silently from their underground lair and attacked the Bulguardian Royal Palace.
The bloody and violent battle between the two most legendary houses raged on, all but destroying the majestic city of Altair.
It was not the first war that Juliette had endured between good and evil. And it most certainly would not be her last.
After seeing her beloved slaughter a Royal Guardian in cold blood, Juliette is heartbroken and flees the city of Altair.
Her beloved, in a desperate pursuit to explain the truth and regain her love, commences on a journey that takes him through numerous hostile centuries to the present day.
At last he is close, but so is the ferocious enemy that is hell-bent on revenge.
He realises that revealing himself to her now would also mean revealing her to the enemy.
Letting her go is his only choice in ensuring her safety.
Soon she falls for another. And unknowingly to her – he is the only other living soul that knows the truth that could ultimately reunite her with her first true love.
…Since the beginning of time there has always been two things that change lives forever – War. The other – Love. My life has not been an exception to either. Juliette…
The sickly stench of death curled silently through majestic arched windows and coagulated, forming a thick grey cloud of wretchedness.
Burning torches hung randomly along high stone walls, illuminating the deserted Royal Palace. Stray swirls of smoke danced gracefully around elaborate marble columns that lined a black aisle. At the end of the aisle was an elevated dais that had formerly held four golden thrones.
Behind the one remaining throne hung a massive shield revealing a serpent entwined on a gem-encrusted dagger. A masterpiece extolled in bronze depicting the Grigorian Coat Of Arms.
The remainder of the chamber void now from the lavish furnishings that had once seated Royalty, in the Imperial City of Altair.
A lone male figure, eclipsed by the overwhelming size of the chamber, glared at the deserted throne as he paced. He waited – something he did not like to do, for the imminent arrival of the others.
His impatience was evident in every knotted muscle on his chiselled face. Raised black veins pulsated on his muscular throat; hands formed clenched fists by his sides. His eyes were yellowy, like the colour of cat’s eyes, with a minuscule black speck for a pupil. They transcended pure evil.