America, In My Dreams (United States of America #2.5)

Sun and Moon

America knew of the spirits of various kinds, but she never met the Spirit Kings of the Sun and Moon until that fateful day.

In present time, she was in her room, a lit candle in hand. It was a full moon out tonight, and there was not a cloud in the sky, creating the perfect view for the moonlight to illuminate the stars around it and light the slumbering earth below. She smiled, longing filling her heart.

She wanted to go back to that place, if only for a day.

It had been centuries ago when she first met them, in fact she was only a physical pre-teen then, and she knew she wasn't dreaming when she found herself in a palace built completely of pure marble.

It was very bright outside the window, but America knew she wasn't on Earth.

She was now Princess Migisi, and there was something about this place that seemed a little off.

Looking around, America found herself in what appeared to be a guest room, which even then felt like it should belong to an aristocrat or royal. The bed was so soft America couldn't find any flaws in it, and it was even big enough to fit about five people. The room appeared to have recently been cleaned to perfection, with everything sparkling, and America the bathroom door was open, which revealed a beautiful bathroom to seemed to be made of pure glass.

Where was she?

The door opened, and a woman walked in. Having seen many strange things in her life, America didn't gawk at the woman's appearance. She was literally glowing orange, from her eyes, to her skin, and to her hair. Her hair moved despite there not being any wind, like crackling flames, and even from here she was hot to the touch.

Not too hot though, but a comforting warmth.

"Hurry on now Miss, we're almost late," the woman spoke. She didn't speak in English, but rather an ancient language that was lost to many Americans now.

"Late for what?" America asked, hurrying to get out of the bed she was in.

The woman looked at her like she grew a second head. "You've forgotten? Well, King Cyrus is holding a talent show to for the festival. Since you're new here I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't know."

Although America was still lost, she said nothing else as she allowed the woman to tidy her hair and rush her to the ballroom, where this apparent talent show was being held.

~~~

This man was so ridiculous. Why he was even allowed to participate in this festival the king will never understand. He had seen people on Earth do better than him!

The ballroom was what you would expect from a typical royal ballroom, except there were booths where the nobility could view the activity below and the chandeliers burned with sun fire. The room also glowed with the warmth of the fire within as well.

On the throne, witnessing the event, was the Spirit King of the Sun, Cyrus. He was a handsome man in every aspect of the term, with his flawless tan face, glowing yellow eyes, and muscular body that would put any body-builder to shame. His hair was only a fiery inferno, which flickered and burned with passion. His armor, red, burnt orange, and yellow in places, hugged his body perfectly.

Next to him were his advisor Antiman, and his friend, a fellow King.

Iamar was the Spirit King of the Moon, and while many myths associate the sun and moon as lovers or even brothers or sisters, they were anything but. They were just simply friends. Iamar was a very muscular man with sparkling silver skin, the the matching eyes, and semi-long black hair. Like Cyrus, he also wore armor, except his was mostly silver and blue in color.

Cyrus yawned at the pathetic man before him, a man who was supposed to be a joker. Antiman, seeing this, shook his head at the guards, who immediately took the man away.

"Did you find anyone good Antiman?" Cyrus groaned, now wishing he could just focus on ruling over his realm without having to worry about these idiots. "You should know I have better things to worry about then this."

"And you know this is the tradition among the people my King," Antiman responded, not once looking at Cyrus.

"And you wished to see the talent show yourself Cyrus, have you forgotten that?" Iamar asked. Unlike Cyrus, he appeared refreshed.

Cyrus sighed in response. "Have it your way old friend. Bring out the next contestant!"

The guards stationed at the door opened it, and in walked a young woman with tan skin, long Amber hair, and white Native American dress and headdress. She walked gracefully towards the throne, and everyone kept their eyes on her, transfixed. Her head was held high, confidence making her entire form glow in a different light. Cyrus nearly lost his composure at the sight of the girl.

She looked so much like Kwanita.

Next to him, Iamar inhaled sharply, but Cyrus didn't address him as he composed himself. "I have never seen you around here before madam. Where is your land of origin?"

The woman, her startlingly blue eyes calm and composed, was quick to answer. "I come from a land where your land warms, where your light brings life and well-being to its people."

An Earthling eh? Just like Kwanita.

"Interesting," Cyrus mused, then raised his hand. "Proceed."

The female took a breath, before she is positioned herself into a stance that was eerily similar to Kwanita. The tension in the room was heavy, but the woman didn't seem to notice as she began to dance.

The dance was one of grace and of dreams. She had the grace of a swan, the procession of a fox, and the speed of a rabbit. Her eyes were glazed with passion and an allure that no words could describe. Cyrus found his eyes widening, unable to tear them away from this magnificent creature before him. Who was this woman?

The woman continued to dance like the end of the world was near, uncaring of who was watching her, and finally, it was obvious the people around her couldn't contain themselves any longer, and rushed to join the woman in dance.

Cyrus wished he could join her too, but something was rooting him in place, and all he could do was watch her as she danced through the crowd, keeping herself in front of the throne.

Eventually, she ceased dancing, ending in an elegant position. When she opened her eyes and looked right up at Cyrus, the king knew.

He knew.