A Series of Short Stories

And the Sun Shall Rise Again

        Ametta was conflicted as she had ever been. Her independence was almost everything to her. She had freedom in her independence. She could run through the hills and climb the cherry trees to the highest branch if she wanted to do so. However, she was eighteen now and the ceremony was soon to begin. The ceremony would decide her place in the community. She had never been more terrified.

~

        I stared at my reflection in the recently cleaned mirror. The girl, no the woman, that looked back at me was someone I never thought I'd see. My excessively long hair was in a half-updo style. Various braids and twists were held in place by ornate pins of garnet, sapphires, gold, and diamonds. The way the elegantly shaped pins held up my hair made a sort of halo around my crow-black hair. My caramel brown eyes were rimmed in kohl and gold paint. My lips were painted a soft fiery red that reminded me of embers sitting among an abandoned hearth.

        A gold band was fitted around my neck and teardrop-shaped rubies hung from it. The rubies were as deep a red as blood and their place around my neck was not a welcomed visage. Bronze paint decorated my collarbone and shoulders in intricate twisting designs. The warm metallics seemed to glow against my pale skin. How I longed for the tan skin of my people. How could they relate to me if I looked like a foreigner?

        My eyes were not brown like theirs were. My hair was as black as the darkness of night, unlike their hair which rivaled the golden of the sun. Their height was shorter than mine, and their hair curled naturally. Their skin was lightly tanned like the soft sands on the coast, and I was nearly as pale as the foam on the waves. How was I to rule them, when I was not truly one of them?

        I fiddled with the ruby-colored dress as I worried over these thoughts. The dress was made of a fine, smooth material and fell in soft waves of fabric over my thin frame. A gold coin belt cinched the fabric in at my waist and jingled lightly as I shifted. The red dress was trimmed in gold silk that reflected the light filtering through the drapes.

        All my life, up until two years ago, had been dedicated to self-preservation; survival. Now, at eighteen, I was expected to suddenly rule an entire people? I have never been more terrified in my life. I dreaded this coronation more than anything. I knew how power turned good people into ugly corrupted beasts. It was what I had ran from so long ago. Now, stumbling upon this world, I was threatened with that same corruption.

        "Your grace, it is time to head to the ceremonial gardens," Genevieve, the woman assigned to be my handmaid and teacher, told me.
        I turned away from my nervous fiddling and towards her. A genuine smile graced her features and it comforted me some. Genevieve, who I affectionately called Vieva, was an elderly woman whose golden hair had turned silver long ago. She was wise and I was proud to call her a friend, and not just a servant.

        "I am scared Vieva," I openly admitted, though I'm sure it was plain to read on my face.

        "Do not be, my dear. The people adore you and your kind soul," She placed a wrinkled hand on my arm and guided me off of the plush vanity stool.

        I linked my arm with hers and she began to escort me from my preparational room and out into the bright, birchwood hallways. Twists and turns did nothing to help my ever-rising anxiety as we drew closer to the doors. When we did reach a set of sliding paper doors she stopped.

        "This is where I leave you for now, your grace." she smiled at me kindly as she released my arm.

        She ambled through the sliding door, holding it open for me. She turned left to the servants' door and I was to continue straight. This hallway was also made with birch wood. It made the red tapestries and gold-framed paintings stand out. The doors at the end of the hall were made of flower paper. They were a slightly sheer, soft pink, and the light from outside filtered in. Shadowing the doorway were two lines of people, the palace guards.