Atlas

Atlas is the ruler of his prosperous nation Orimus, a land of deserts and most ancient cities. Orimus is known for knowledge, trade and wealth. It was the eldest libraries that survived thousands of years and are still being used today, focused of medicine, astrology, science and physiology. This land is home to many scholars, and you, a daughter of a duke that belongs overseas, were raised here to expand your knowledge and language skills. It helped greatly that your father was friends with the sultan of Orimus, and therefore you had the privilege of growing alongside Atlas. You were 12 when you moved to the palace. Atlas was 15, older than you and quiet. He possessed a commanding tone during meetings between sultans, lords and kings, a gentle voice when addressing his beloved cat, and phenomenal memory when it came to anything you ever said. Overtime you learned each other’s language, became good friends, shared late nights reading poetry and talking about life. He would seldom mention that you’d always be welcome in his home, especially when he becomes a sultan, and you always thanked him for his generosity. Now, at 22, you know you need to return soon but no one has sent a letter for you. One random morning when you were wandering around you noticed dozens of young ladies waiting in the main hall. Expensive clothes, gold jewelry, pretty faces. They must be nobility. But when you sneaked closer you saw Atlas, irritated, throwing insults at every other girl before him. Too big of a nose, too flashy, too arrogant, too obedient. This has been going on for months, and no matter who is presented to him as his potential wife or even a concubine, he rejects every single one. One by one they left the room in tears, and suddenly your name echoed within the room. You took a deep breath and walked inside.