Dull Colours [EDITED EDITION]

One | Kolawi

Hera Giala, princess of the kingdom of Giala, walked slowly and elegantly up to the fountain in the front of the largest room in the castle in which she and her parents, the royals of Giala, inhabited. She was savouring this moment as she watched the water flow out of the fountain. She could feel the magic in the room, radiating off the fountain and in the very essence of the water flowing from the simple marble structure that was glowing pulsing hues of blue and streaked with gold and pink. It looked like the Milky Way. It looked like magic. It looked like magic, and it was beautiful. 

Hera could feel the magic in the air. It was like static, making her hair on the back of her neck and on her arms stand on end. This was good, as it distracted her from the impressive amount of people in the room. The whole kingdom that was over eighteen and in an able condition to come was there. As Giala was a relatively small kindom, there were about 3,000 people there, but it was still a mind-blowing amount when you were just one small person and the centre of attention. They were crowded in the room of dark stone with rows and rows of pew-like seating rising upwards that was overflowing with people eager to see their princess undergo the ancient ritual.

The ritual Hera was undergoing was called Kolawi, and in order to complete it she would have to go and drink from the Magic Fountain, the fountain she was currently approaching. The ritual then stopped the Conjured from being able to possess the person having undergone the ritual. Kolawi was completely painless, and everyone did it after they turned sixteen. Hera had turned sixteen three days ago. Yet this Kolawi was special - Hera was the first royal to undergo the ritual in nearly forty years. This meant some of the people, if not the majority, had never seen a royal undergo Kolawi. 

The Conjured were evil spirits that were conjured - hence the name - by someone appropriately named The Conjurer. The Conjurer was the only person who was not a royal but had magic, through a phenomenon no one really understood. There were many rumours that he had used dark methods to get the magic, as only royal bloods had magic, and even then it was only a small amount - nothing compared to the Conjurer. 

The Conjurer hated the royals. Hated them with a passion. He hated them so much he murdered the queen at the time and used her blood to reincarnate the evil of people who had passed on. The Conjured looked like decaying humans, with sunken-in eyes that were a burning blue, a long, black, tattered cloak over a body that was so skinny it was basically a skeleton, and the only other part of them you could see apart from their face - the hooded cloak covered the rest - was a glowing core that pulsed an unearly, eery blue, the same colour of their eyes, and that was what kept them alive. The only way to kill a Conjured was with the ashes of the royal that was the king to the queen who was killed by The Conjurer. His name was King Eros and he had attempted to pretend he was on the side of the Conjured to kill them from the inside. He failed, and was killed. The Royals of Giala then cremated him, and his ashes are kept in an ornate vase on the mantle in the living room. 

Everyone's eyes were on Hera but her eyes were greedily locked on the fountain, unable to break away from the waters that seemed to have it's own heartbeat, it's own sense of alive. Finally, after what must have been only a few minutes but felt like hours, she was close enough to it. She bent forwards and cupped her hands, letting the water flow through her fingers before pushing them togther, watching the colours swirl. It seemed to emit a faint light. Hera shivered with it's power. Slowly, she tipped her hands up and poured the water into her mouth. It was an incredible sensation - the water was cool in her mouth yet warm on her lips, and it tasted sweet yet tangy and rich but not in an unpleasant way. She swallowed, and felt the magic briefly thrum through her veins. Her ears hummed as everyone clapped and cheered enthusiastically. She grinned at the crowd, feeling her face burn hot with thrill and the dissipating remnants of nerves.

Hera Giala was small for her age. Not extremely small, but she would remind you of a little elf. She had a small nose, and elegant eyes that were a blazing green. Her skin was slightly tanned, and there were freckles spattered across her nose. She had small, round, black glasses that perched on her nose and seemed to have a life of their own, constantly slipping down and sitting crooked. Her mouth was a small, delicate heart shape and often curved up in a mischievous smile, and was a pretty shade of rose. Her hair was a light chocolate brown that shone gold in the sun and she often had out, as it was short and hung just above her shoulders. She was unlike her father and mother, who were both tall and lean - not that she wasn't slender herself - and had pale skin and light blond, wispy hair that they had long and also wore out, and they liked to dress in their best clothes no matter the occasion. Hera preferred to wear clothes she could easily get around in, often ripped or loose jeans and oversized T-shirts or jumpers. She could often be found sitting in her bedroom, perched on her windowsill, window wide open so she could smell the fresh air - not caring how high off the ground she was - reading. Hera loved reading. She would read all day and all night if she could - and she sometimes stayed up later than necessary, reading by the candle on her bedside or the moonlight when the moon sat bright and full in the sky.

Hera was glad to be back in her room and out of her baby blue dress she had been put in for the ritual. She hated that she had to wear a dress, but did like the way it sat on her hips and fit her curves perfectly, although she would never admit it. Hera eagerly picked up the book she had been reading, one called Fly Free, about a young girl who wants to run free and wild, but is born into a posh family and has to wear long, elegant dresses and stand up straight. Hera liked it because it reminded her of herself, except in Lily's world - Lily was the main character is the book - there were no evil spirits that wanted royal blood so they could go out in the sun and turn all the humans into them, but there was also no magic. Hera wondered what she would prefer.

Hera was curled up on her windowsill, the sun warm on her face, when her mum came in looking flustered. "Hera," she panted. "The - ritual..." she gasped for breath, obviously having run up the stairs. She was paler than usual. "Hera... the water in the fountain..." She said shakily. Hera cocked her head to the side. "What's wrong?" She asked curiously, concern creeping into her voice. "The water in the fountain was poisoned, Hera. You -" Her mother's voice faded into black as Hera passed out.

~~~~~

Hera Giala woke up, panting. She sat up and breathed out in a long whoosh. She was so glad it was a dream. Hera looked at the blankets, a pale blue that coincidentally coincided with her Kolawi dress, bunched up at the bottom of her bed. She put Fly Free on her bedside table, taking off her glasses and setting them beside the book. She shook her head, trying to shake away all memory of that horrid dream. But it had been so real. The dress she had to wear, the book she was reading, the hall, it was all so real. Hera vaguely wondered if it was a bad omen, then dismissed the thought. Glancing at the clock on her table, resting beside her book - 3:49am, it read - and pulled her blankets up to her chin. She shivered, rolled over, and tried to go to sleep, so she wouldn't be tired for Kolawi tomorrow.