The Storyteller

Introduction: The Princess

She was named Nimeuh for her powers, the ability to wield life and death at her fingertips. She was a strange looking child, always smaller than her playmates. Her hair was colorless, yet her skin always had a slight tan and her cheeks never lost their soft shade of rogue. Her eyes were the strangest part of her. One was an icy blue, the other the deepest brown. Some say it reflects her powers, both good and evil, light and dark. However now she was no longer a child. Nearly seventeen, she had grown to be 5'4", her body was graced with delicate curves. The long hair she refused to cut off was always adorning her head like a silver crown in a reversed braid. A smile was always playing at her lips, as even the lamest joke could make her grin. She was beautiful, in a terrifying way. People feared her for her powers and odd looks, and who was to blame them when they believed that a twitch of her little finger could end their lives? The Castle staff would beg to differ though. The servants loved her, she was always polite whenever she needed something, and often insisted on doing things herself so they could finish their other tasks and be freed to return to their families. As a child she would play in the kitchen with Cook's daughter, Dimitri, who would forever remain Nimeuh's closest friend. The two girls learned the art of culinary together watching Cook make meals and feasts. When the time came for Nimeuh to start her proper schooling she fell in love with the library. She read whatever books she could, and soaked up the knowledge that was presented to her like a sponge. She taught many of the servants to read and write, insisting that they know the joys of fiction as she had. Her books also kept her company during the lonely days of sickness that often occurred. Her body was never really strong, she often had to be careful of exercise and exhilarating tasks. It was another reason she was feared, she was never allowed in the village. Very few citizens new what she truly looked or sounded like. All they heard were drunken whispers in pubs and ladies' gossips. The servants were sworn to secrecy, so they could do nothing more than silently disagree. Sheltered away and with only one true friend throughout her youth, Nimeuh was habitually left to herself and her stories.