Lady of Spires

Option

Soft hums fall from chapped lips, calloused feet wrapped tight in heavy winter boots sway in the pearlescent snow. "mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird~ " honeyed words dance on my tongue, a cheerful giggle bubbles in my chest. It was my mother's birthday today; I giddily turn to where my dearly crafted present awaits. An oak elk's black eye peers back, I had spent hours lovingly carving, painting, and shaping this creature. Brushing my worn scarred hands upon its polished head I smile joyously. "let's get you to mama~" I move to tie up my long tumbling hair, it resembled fire, at least that what my loving mother had told me. The statue was around the size of a housecat so my mother could easily move it. She was getting to be too old to lug around anything to big. I gently wrapped it tightly in a colorful quilt I had smuggled from my room, admiring the warm scent of my home.

Familiar pine trees stretch solemnly to the white heavens, my eyes scan the forest, aware of every step's noise. My muscular arms hold the little elk closer; I had gotten too excited to hand it off to my mother I ended up bringing it with me on my walk. Quite a stupid decision, but oh well. Slowly I bring myself to walk forward, steps bouncing with excitement I close my periwinkle eyes. I knew the path of this forest, the steps, the turns. It was all a practiced dance, one with turning stones, and sternly placed roots. I have always adored this dance. Soon the snow's bitter chill bites its way through my heavy coat. My lips pull into a frown, eyes opening reluctantly I sigh, the breath forming a wispy cloud that drifts uselessly. "Something is wrong." 

I cannot help but allow worry into my tone, slowing my steps I look down to the little elk. I sure hope it won't be anything to troublesome, I don't want to ruin mother's gift. Furrowing my eyebrows, I continue forward. Eventually my destination comes to view, my home. A small cottage, its dark thatch roof shimmering with a thick layer of freshly fallen snow. Small square windows give view to a warm interior, cluttered with various personal objects. My eyebrows pull together, was that a royal carriage? There was no doubt about it. The slender gold and white arches, shining wheels, most notably, the mechanical stead. 

The great Ethereal Spires, the empire that holds monopoly over the known world. Golden utopia, built with a heavenly marble, twisting with molten gold. Using a twisted idea of alchemy, the Spires created machines. Horrific creatures resembling angels drawn from a mind far too broken. They ranged in all sizes and shapes, some managing to dwarf most villages, engineered to inflict as cenotaphic damage as possible.  This one was one in the shape of a horse, though its sharp marble plating showing gold gears and knobs settles a deep discomfort in the pit of my stomach. 

"Mother! are you there? what going on?" Cautiously I make my way through the doorway, nervously setting the statue down. Thoughts rush through my head, what did the royalty of the spires want? Wait, hadn't the king announced something recently? Oh, my blood chills, dragging my gaze upwards my fears become realized. There, standing in our cozy living room covered in warm rugs and cushions stood William Crawford, the kings righthand. His long white hair falling over his black coal like armor, his raven like mask obscuring his surely disinterested or snide expression. As soon as I enter my mother's panic filled eyes meet mine, followed by that man's haunting mask. "I'm sure you know why I'm here?" his voice crawls with a raspy drawl. I can't help but pick up on a subtle accent running through his words. Giving a strained smile I nod, the king wants a wife, and I was selected to be one of the options.