Ebony Mist -Original

Part I: Power of Muse

After the black druid had ridden away, no one saw him again for years to come. The darkness that had covered Everim like a mist soon began to lift away. Those ill from the deadly sickness caused by it were healed. Though many had died already, the realm rejoiced its disappearance. At first people thanked the young princess for her sacrifice for her people, but over time, as the effects of the plague died away, people did not care, and even began to forget.

Life continued in Everim as it had before the darkness had come. Alaura continued to live in the castle, growing into a young woman. The years passed, Everim flourishing.

Every year on her birthday a ball was held for Alaura, every one more grand than the last, for the king knew that any year could be the last they would celebrate her birthday together with the princess. Lanterns were set up, and even made to let fly once the sun had set. There was dancing and music all around the castle and surrounding city. It was also a celebration of the plague being lifted.

Yet year after year the druid did not come to take her, for now power like that the Fae spoke of showed itself. Despite this, the king did not allow Alaura any suitors as she grew old enough to catch the eyes of young men. But one thing Alaura always kept a secret was that on the night of her birthday, after the party, when she retired to her room, there would be a gift waiting for her on her vanity. It was always small, wrapped in navy blue with a black ribbon. No words or note on who left it, no sign of anyone ever having come to leave it.

Once it was a necklace, another time it had been a ring. One year a small glass horse. Each one different. Yet each one she lost over the course of the year. Soon this gift was the only sign left of the promise made long ago, and even then, the promise was forgotten. A dream of a memory from long ago.

Ten years had gone by, and though the people forgot why they celebrated the princess's birthday so grandly, it had by now become tradition. Decorations were set, and all the bakers, butchers, and other necessary people were given orders for preperation of the feast. Everyone helped in some way, glad to do so for it was the event that all looked forward to every year.

The ballroom was decorated the most extravagantly, with streamers and garlands, and strings of painted lanterns. Alaura was in awe of the sight when she entered the ballroom that afternoon as the guests for the party had already started the celebration. The guest of honor descended the steps from the door, only to be surrounded by everyone who wanted to tell her happy birthday. Alaura would give a gentle smile and thank them.

There was dancing and music all around, and several princes asked Alaura for a dance on the ballroom floor. Skirt swirling around her making her seem like a flower from above, in a sea of flowers, all the dancers twirling and moving around the floor in gentle ellegance. A large smile did not remove itself from Alaura's face as she danced.

As she and her current partner danced around the outside, something in the corner caught her attention as everything suddenly felt slower when she spotted the strange figure. She had barely a glance, but she knew what she saw. Large many faced eyes, small nose and mouth, butterfly wings for ears and long grass for hair. Somehow she recognized the Fae as they made eye contact.

Her partner gave a startled cry, snapping her attention to him as she realized in her moment of a glance she had stepped too far and knicked his shin with her toe.

"Forgive me! I am very sorry," Alaura said as they stepped off the floor. She gave an appologetic look as he rubbed his leg.

"No, it's alright princess. They do say you're gift is in art, not in dancing. In fact, I was warned before the dance to watch out," the prince said, giving a white-toothed smile in an attempt to be charming.

"Don't jest! It's just that over in the corner there was a..." Alaura looked towards where she had seen it, but the Fae was goine. "Never mind. There was nothing. Please, excuse me, I wish to seek out my mother."

She walked off, moving through the crowd of people till she was at the throne on its dais where the king and queen sat. She gave a short courtsy to her parents before going to her mother's side. "Mother, you should not believe it, but I just saw the Fae! She was in the corner, but then she was gone!" Alaura said with a delighted smile.

"You saw the Fae? Oh, wasn't she beautiful? Though I wonder why she would be here," the mother said, glancing out across the room. Just then a nearby duke called out.

"It has long been known the the guest of honor has a talent with the paint brush. Is it possible that were I to gift her special colored pastels from Ashenheim that she would grace us with a demonstration?" the man called out, and several around raised their voices in agreement. "Bring out my birthday give to the princess Alaura!"

With that several servants came out, one holding a grand box filled with pastels, while another brought out a canvas, and another an easel. Alaura rushed down to look inside the box at all the colors. There were so many, even the deeper colors that were hard to make so rare to find. "Of course I shall have to see what I can do with these right away! Set up the easel right over there. Yes, that's good." She went and stood before the canvas, the servant with the box standing next to her. She picked up one of the rare colors and held it over the blank white space, thinking about what to draw. Then with a smile, she started drawing.

Her hands were quick and sure as she worked, drawing an image that allowed her to use all the colors at least a little bit, so she could see what even the rare colors looked like on the canvas.

No sooner has she finished the last stroke of the flock of butterflies than she felt a surge inside her, like a heat in her chest that moved to her shoulder and down her arm to her hand. She sensed it jump from her hand to the canvas and suddenly it came alive.

The only sound the was heard was the clink of the stick of charcoal upon the ground as all the butterflies in the image started flapping their wings and pealing off of the paper. Their wings gave off a whisper like leaves of paper as they fluttered around the room, everyone staring up in awe.

Suddenly the Fae was beside Alaura, a knowing smile on her face. "I could not miss the moment when the one blessed with the power of muse would recieve her gift," the Fae spoke, her voice sounding more like a slong, and then she was gone. Alaura was speachless as people started cheering at the show, the butterflies continuing to dance around the room. But the music began again and people danced, often glancing up at the site of all the butterflies.

"The power of muse?" Alaura muttered to herself, then smiled. To bring an image to life, was that her power? She looked over to her parents. Her mother looked proud, but her father did not look happy. Her father was frowning.

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Part 1 here we are! So, I have a question for you! What do you think of Alaura's power? Did I reveal it too soon? And judging by what it's called, do you think there's more to it than just paintings? I'd love to see what my readers think :)

If you liked it, please give it a vote, and don't forget to comment!

Cheers!

~ElfyTheRinger