With the Sunrise (On Hold)

Prologue

The ballroom was livelier than usual, with overdressed nobles wearing oversized dresses and suffocating pants while drinking their lives away until they passed out on the tiled floor. Music could be heard in every corner of the grand room, coming from the lively band in one corner. A crowd stood around them, swaying their hips to the swift beat. The only face that was not smiling or laughing was a regal woman at the head of the room.

She sat on her golden throne, her face set in a scowl as her gaze drifted across the room. The woman had long brown hair that was left to hand around her face. On her head was a silver crown that contrasted nicely with her hair. She wore a bright pink gown that covered her feet and had silver sleeves and a patch of silver running down the center. Her eyes, a deep brown, drifted over to rest on the royal blue cradle that was within arm's reach of her.

Inside that cradle was a baby boy of only a few days old. He had a small tuff of golden hair and bright blue eyes that were closed at the moment. He was sleeping, oblivious to the noise around him.

The man sitting on a similar golden throne next to the woman had the same golden hair and blue eyes that the baby had. He wore a blue dress shirt, overloaded with jewels, and black pants. The outfit was complete with black shoes, polished nicely, and a golden crown on his head that blended in with his hair. He turned to the woman, his expression turning into one of concern. The woman turned to meet his gaze.

"Is something wrong, dear," he asked her.

She did not answer right away but instead gazed back at the cradle. "I feel uneasy, Brenton," she said finally.

Brenton scanned the room before leaning closer to his wife. "What is it, Ronna?"

Ronna's gaze left her son's cradle and went to meet Brenton's. "Something is going to happen tonight, I just know it," she murmured, though still load enough for Brenton to hear.

"You have always had a talent of knowing when things will happen," Brenton replied as he leaned back in his throne and returned to his task of observing the room. "The question is whether what is going to happen is going to be good or bad."

"I hope we do not have to find out," Ronna said, glancing at the cradle once again.

The night continued on smoothly, nothing happened while the party went on. It was not until only a few guests were left in the ballroom that it happened. A woman walked in, her stride confident and expression full of determination. Her long white hair identified her as a mage, a magic wielder. Her eyes were a deep brown and she had high cheekbones and full pink lips. She wore a black dress against her pale skin that had no sleeves and drifted down to her knees. She walked across the room until she stood directly in front of the golden thrones.

"Why are you here, Jennifer?" Brenton barked.

Jennifer sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes and shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "I've come to see the new prince. Isn't that what everyone was here for? Although, I never got an invitation . . ."

"That is because you were not invited," Brenton exclaimed matter-of-factly. "And we would have been fools if we did incite you after all the terrible things you and your magic have done!"

Jennifer tilted her head to the side, pulling the innocent face that so many used to try to get out of trouble. "And what may that be?" she asked.

"Do not play innocent!" Brenton cried. "All the droughts, all the disasters, all the attacks on cities and towns, it has been the work of your magic! I will be damned if I am wrong!"

"Brenton," Ronna said softly. It was often that she had to remind her husband to keep a level head.

Jennifer smirked as she folded her arms in front of her. "I'm not going to lie and say I didn't do any of it, but what's wrong with having a little fun once in a while?"

"Jennifer," Ronna said before Brenton could talk. "Your idea of 'fun' is different from everybody else's. If you continue to harass the people, we will be forced to get rud of you."

Jennifer laughed, clutching her stomach dramatically as if she was dying of laughter. She shook her head at the couple as she calmed herself. "You can't get rid of me, you're not strong enough."

Ronna nodded slowly, as if realizing something. "So I am," she agreed. "But your terrorism cannot continue forever. Somebody will come along who is stronger than you. They will put a stop to you!"

Jennifer twirled a lock of her hair with her finger. "But until that time comes, I'm left to my own devices. Now, I believe I came here to see the newborn prince."

She ignored the outraged cry of Brenton and stepped towards the cradle. She gazed at the child inside, her face expressionless for the first few moments until she made a face of disgust. Ronna saw the signs: Jennifer's shaking body, the way she tried to hide the fear that had gripped her.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Jennifer cried, walking backwards away from the cradle.

"Excuse me?" Ronna asked politely, though she knew what made Jennifer so scared.

"That boy!" she cried as she pointed to the cradle. She released a long sigh before glaring at the cradle. "That boy will be the death of me," she muttered.

"What about my son?" Brenton cried, getting to his feet.

Jennifer looked at him, a smirk forming on her face. "What about him?" she asked. She held out her hand, a ball of purple mist forming above it. "He will die at sunrise on his eighteenth birthday, that's what will happen!" The ball of mist flew over to the cradle, disappearing as if reached it. The boy woke, his cries reaching all in the room.

"Guards!" Brenton cried, but Jennifer was already gone, leaving no trace that she had been there.

"What was that about?" Brenton asked as he looked over at Ronna, who was standing by the cradle with the baby in her arms.

"She saw it," Ronna said, her gaze never leaving her son.

"She saw what?" Brenton asked, stepping towards Ronna.

"She knew that he would be the one to stop her," she said, gesturing to the child. "That was why she cursed him."

"We have to find a way to break the curse!" Brenton declared.

Ronna shook her head. "No, our child must be the one to seal his own fate. The curse cannot be broken by anyone other than himself."