Gifted

Prologue

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION:

'GIFTED (BOOK I: MAGIC EVANESCENT)' COPYRIGHT 2013/2014: S. ELIZABETH, @THESPANISHTURTLE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from the author.

A woman stared at a gold-wrought mirror frame, its complex whorls and curves extending from the regal clawed lion's feet to the golden carvings seven feet up. Eyes sliding to the glass, she examined the slight characteristics of her face. It was pale and gaunt; her eye sockets were almost completely filled in black and blue, giving the woman a chilling skeletal impression. She adorned a slight circlet: silver in the likeness of interlocking tree branches. The queen reached up to the ornate dresser to the right and slipped the silver ring her hands found there on her slender white finger.

        Good, she thought, deeming the reflection presentable. She swept the excess fabric of the dress around her, gliding out of the room. The gentle whisper of the silk train followed her out. Walking quietly down the abandoned corridor, her shadow flickered past countless closed doors on both sides. Silence pressed against her eardrums.

        The queen grasped at the glass knob of what seemed a random door, pushed it open, and slipped in. New stone surroundings were made ominous by the flickering light thrown by the torches fastened to the wall and the queen's shadow danced back and forth. She hopped down the spiraling stairs with purpose, her quick steps easily devouring the distance from the door above.

        A sickening odor became more prominent as she descended, a scent of death and rot. Obviously the castle's dungeons, the queen did not heed the warning of the smell, and proceeded on, stepping into a cavern of the same stonework. It was circular with a dome for a roof, and all around her were arches set in the walls -- more corridors. These had no torches, and were completely wreathed in shadow. Pitiful moaning was to be heard from an unidentifiable arch, sounding echoed and far away. The sound bounced off the stone, giving the impression of being surrounded by tortured, lost souls.

        She did not hesitate choosing a path: the queen glided to the right of the arch directly opposite of the stairwell exit. The cries faded.

        Another set of stairs crept into sight, and the woman found herself in yet another stoneworked dome, this one a more perfect half sphere than the arch room. The curved walls and ceiling were covered with a clutter of different runes and symbols faintly visible in the blue-green firelight that illuminated the shadow of a hunchbacked figure crouching in the center of the dome.

        She strode confidently over to the crippled occultist, not faltering when the witch whipped around suddenly, still on her knees. At the turn of the witch's body, the queen could see what she was bending over: small mounds of different bones, plants, and finely crushed powders, and a trivial heap of lit tinder, glowing with cyan fire.

        The two made eye contact.

        "It's nearly finished," came a croak from between cracked lips, a less-than-decent uttering to a sovreign. "M-Milady," the witch quickly added, shrinking under her glare. Almost immediately after she finished speaking, the demonflame spit unusually high, and took on a sickly green hue, washing out both of the women's faces.

        "You've twenty-four hours, Ursa," the queen said, taking delicate steps towards the nearest wall. A pale hand brushed and traced the runes absentmindedly as she spoke. Her voice was silky and almost-pleasant; tones of careful manipulation dripped lightly from each word. "You won't disappoint me, I expect?" intoned the queen, causing Ursa to nod her head madly. "Good," she purred, already ascending the stairs. Ursa was left alone, and the queen didn't look back.

Dedication to @JoyCronje for the wonderful critique and suggestions :)