Okay, so those of you who have read Violet, this is actually going to be a part of that book. I've combined that with this, so now there are two sisters involved. I thought that Sera needed more, as a character, and giving her a background and a family seemed to help with that. Tell me what you think.
A world torn in two,
Shadow and light forever divided.
Silence and screams estranged,
Laughter and smiles diffident.
One shadow, one light.
One of the people, one of the wild.
A whispered rumor,
Hope will awaken.
They will bring the fates together,
Sing the Song that needs to be sung.
A black hole will emerge,
Prevail,
Utter the words.
Clashing of metal,
Blood will turn the rivers red.
In the sister’s hands,
The sky will open again.
And rain will pour down.
-Found in the Wan library, translated by Alixin the Wise. Author unknown.
Prologue
The goddess Torna labored long into the night. She tossed and turned, moaning about curses and how she was wasting time.
Her mate, Kenen, sat by her side. The lesser goddess attending Torna had been too timid to order him from the room as was tradition, and he was determined to see his son born with his own eyes, so that he would have the memory for the rest of eternity.
“You’re wasting your energy, complaining like this,” he told Torna bluntly.
She glared up at him from the bed, hair plastered to her perfect brow. “Childbirth could have been painless, Kenen. Why should a goddess have to endure this? Ridiculous curse…”
“It will be over soon,” he intervened before she could begin her tyrant again. “Push hard.”
“Be silent. You are not the one lying here.”
“I wish I were. I would get it done quicker than this.”
“I will speak to Pashan as soon as this is over, then. Perhaps he will be able to find a remedy that will allow males to carry the children instead of females!”
“Now you’re being childish. Push, woman!”
Torna made a heated retort again. The goddess at the foot of the bed only half listened to their bickering; the rest of her attention was focused on the head she could now see emerging from her mistress.
“Push now, milady. Push hard,” she urged, daring to interrupt the couple’s jabs back and forth.
Torna finally shut her mouth long enough to do as her midwife said, and fresh beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. Kenen wiped them away, excitement making his eyes glow. He held her hand tight, and she gritted her teeth as she battled against nature.
Then the child slipped into the High Realm with a piercing wail. His head was covered with a soft pale down and his skin was pale, like his mother’s. Kenen gave a shout of triumph, and Torna slumped back, sighing.
“His name shall be Kilth, after my father! May my son be as fierce on the battlefield as he was.”
“Yes, and let’s hope he doesn’t meet the same end,” Torna snapped, but her face was relaxed, relieved that it was all over and satisfied with what she’d produced.
“It’s…” The midwife hesitated. “It’s a girl, my lord and lady.”
Kenen paused in his walk to the door. He knew many gods were waiting for news. “What?” He turned, fury making his features darken. The very room seemed to be suddenly consumed in shadow as his Power made the walls tremble. “It’s what?”
Torna was staring at the midwife with dismay. “It’s a girl? I thought Pashan foretold I would have a son!”
“Perhaps—” the other goddess began, holding the newborn girl tight.
“I have no use for a daughter!” Kenen thundered. There was the sound of voices rising outside their room as the others heard his words. Shock reverberated throughout the Realm. A girl. It’s a girl.
“What have you done?” Kenen turned on Torna.
She glared back at him. “I didn’t—” She cut off with a cry of pain.
Kenen frowned, glancing at the midwife. “What—”
“There’s another child coming, milady!” the woman cried, bending over Torna once more. Without thought, she shoved the firstborn in Kenen’s arms. “Twins! You must push again.”
“Again?” Torna hissed.
Kenen recovered quickly from his surprise, fumbling briefly with the child in his arms before approaching the bed once more. He was desperate now. This second child had to be the son he wanted, needed. “Push, Torna,” he ordered, this time not taking the place at her side but beside the midwife. He held his daughter loosely in his arms, not seeming to take any more notice of her even while she continued to wail. He watched the bloody mess of another child coming forth from the womb. He clenched his jaw. This one, this one had to be his son.
“The child is wrong,” Torna moaned, her eyes clouding over as she labored. “I can feel it. This child is different.”
“What do you mean?” Kenen growled.
“It’s coming fast now,” the midwife said, preparing a blanket for the child. “One more push, I think.”
Torna did so, crying out. The second child emerged, peculiarly silent in contrast to its screaming sister. It also possessed a dark head of hair and its eyes were brown. Curious, the midwife thought. Then she noted the sex of the babe.
“My son?” Kenen questioned eagerly, leaning over to look at the infant.
The midwife cowered in fear of his wrath now, shielding the bundle she held. “N-no. Another girl, my lord.”
There were many legends based on the bellow of rage that echoed throughout the entirety of the High Realm. Gods, goddesses, animals, and humans alike heard it, and none ever forgot it.
There was one person who did not hear it, however.
The second born daughter, who Kenen hated just as much as the first born, was discovered to be both mute and deaf. The midwife knew it straightaway, and, though she dreaded they might order her to dispose of the second twin, she told them.
“I never want to set eyes on either of them again,” Kenen said, voice as cold as the east wind. He shoved the daughter in his arms at the goddess and left the room.
Torna stared after him, strong as ever. Her chin was in the air, and she was magnificent despite the sweat and the blood surrounding her.
“Can’t my daughter be healed?” she asked the midwife. “After all, we are gods. We must have the Power for such a small difficulty.”
The other woman shook her head, not as frightened of the goddess as she was of the god. “The girl was born like this for a reason, and gods are different from humans. They cannot be healed with a mere spell or blessing.”
In answer, Torna held her arms out. “Give me the firstborn.”
The fair child was still whimpering in indignation. Once she was in her arms, Torna looked down at the girl without emotion. “Kenen already said she would be Kilth, but since he is so set on having a son with the name, she shall be Ilthe.”
“What does it mean, my lady?”
“I’ve no inkling. But it’s close enough to the name, and it will irritate Kenen. So Ilthe she is.”
“And the second?” The midwife hated to ask, but the dark child in her arms was so silent, so still. She felt the babe deserved someone to speak up for her.
Torna brushed her long hair back. “Take her to the mortal realms. I’ve no use for a child such as her, and perhaps getting rid of her will pacify Kenen until I can give him the son he wants so badly.”
“But, milady—”
“Do as I say, Tilda.”
Tilda never argued with her sister. It wasn’t done. It had always been that way. Torna was more beautiful, more powerful, more determined than she would ever be. But not for the first time did Tilda wish she had the courage to stand up to her.
“Yes, milady.”
And Tilda took the silent child from the room. The long hall was crowded, filled with the gossiping High Ones. Kenen had vanished.
Tilda left the enormous palace Torna was mistress of. She cradled the babe in her arms, running fast to get away from prying eyes.
She knew just the place to take this child. A mortal place that had survived for generations. The girl would be safe there. She would be loved, and taught the old ways. Perfect.
“I’m going to name you Sera,” Tilda whispered down to her as she made her way to the gates. “It is what I would have named my daughter, if I’d ever had one. It’s the name of a human warrior woman who fought bravely in the battle of Wan, and earned her way into the High Realm. The first woman to ever do so.”
Sera blinked up at her, solemn and wise. Tilda made her a silent promise to look over her as long as she was able.
“If you ever need me, simply summon me by name, and I will come.”
The newborn remained silent, but Tilda swore she could sense her acceptance of the vow.
Congrats on another good piece! I can't wait to see what happens with this one. I'll try to continue reviewing though like always when I get the chance! 
Your work always makes me want to hurry on and read whatever else you have to offer! Congrats once again and keep up the excellent work! 
