Southern Goddess.

Chapter 1

Flash back
    "Come Serena I've done all this work and you won't even help me you're own mother?! " A small, thin woman with flat blonde hair to her shoulders and a ridiculously big dress on screams at a young girl with beautiful carmel skin and curly hair. The girl backing away coming against the large mirror in her room.  Her mother quickly approaching guards to either side blocking her escape. 
"mother please don't.. Father won't approve of this mother please! " Her mother reached for Serenas arm aiming to jerk her out of the corner.  Serena in a panic looked around the room finding the flame of a candle and making it spread.  Slowly it danced first onto the desk lighting papers and inks then to the wood itself and to the floors the guards panicking escorted the queen and Serena out of the wing as quickly as possible.  Her flames engulfing the girls bedroom and adjoining rooms.  To Serena the sight was beautiful in every way and came naturally. As the flames reached a large wardrobe she became increasingly happy the flames growing wilder and faster turning all shades of red and purple. It was minutes before Serena realized she was being carried out and down the hall the flames fallowing in pursuit. They turned a sharp corner and ran down a flight of steps. Serena no longer able to see the flames. Her flames. It was so natural as she watched it spread but now she no longer could feel that it no longer felt natural it just stopped.

______________________________________________________END FLASH BACK____

Click.Click.Click.  Large halls filled with mostly nothing were so good at warning anyone exactly were you were. Serena hated the loud echoing halls. Preferring soft dirt beneath her feat and trees on all sides.  Stone walls left her feeling locked in but despite this she kept her chin slightly tilted up, her eyes straight, an empty cold smile, and her stride even down each long hall.

Always flanked by at least 3 guards.  The servants she passed dropped into curtsies and bows until she passed. Gestures like this made her feel excessively uncomfortable, and she didn't know really how to handle them. She much preferred having a conversation with them then ordering her subjects like cattle.  A subject her mother would treat as treachery. A threat to the throne. 

Turning down a short hall she approached two large doors. Guards approaching on either side of her and opening them for her. She had never felt the weight of those handles in her own hands. Folding them together she could still feel the calosis formed from months in her father's lands working in shops, and on farms.  Long journeys through thick woods with no guards in sight. She had killed bears before and cooked there flesh with her raw powers, but could not be trusted to open a door on her own. No she could not be allowed to open a door on her own because she was seen as a bird meant to be protected or a flower meant to be nourished and planted. She was neither, but she couldn't complain because she would easily lose her crown if not her head. When she rules, oh when she rules.  She will be the strongest queen known to the north and the south.

Yet here she stood walking into her mother's court nearly shaking. Not from fear, no.  From the blistering cold, eyes running from the very top of the highest hair on her head to the bottoms of her shoes on the floor.  Many invited were suitors in line for her hand.  Almost all northern a small group seeming to stand to themselves as if if they didn't they might melt.  The wore coats lined with black fur. Deep crimson jackets and golden brown eyes.  The only woman of the small group wore her grey hair in long braids that touched the backs of her knees.  Her long skirts slit in the front meant for riding a horse her breeches underneath a black that matches the fur lining her coat.  No others in the room seemed uncomfortable many including the queen wearing short sleeves or not having any at all.

None of these eyes were uncommon, but all of them were threats.  Every detail stored away for later gossip. Her mother directly in front of her down a long red carpeted path that cut threw the crowed like a sword does flesh.  Up three stairs her mother sat on a throne of pure silver carved with flakes of the most delicate snow incrusted with blue diamonds and sapphires alike.  Her dress mimicing what seemed to be all shades of blue pooling around her feet like a waterfall over long elegant legs.  Six guards all in armor and draped with blue the steel had her families crest carved in and painted for all to see.  They were not meant for the royal family. They were the queens guard they served only her.  Serena new better than to believe that this applied to here even as she was the heir to the throne these guards would quickly behead her if asked without hesitation.  Directly to the queens left was an empty throne seat.  Deep coppery color but stronger than any metal.  Rubies danced up the carved flames. Her father's seat empty, but would soon be filled once again. 

Curtsying just slightly at the top of the steps and approached her mothers left.  Her seat did not represent her.  It hid her made of a cool white stone used to drain her powers.  Smoothly she sat looking over the crowed of faces.  The same conversation would be had today as any other since she returned.  The approach of her birthday and then ultimately her wedding.  The topics all together bored her. She didn't care about her impending marriage.  During the meetings she would go into a type of meditative state. Holding a deadly cool calm that left many on edge.  Before her nearly year long visit to her father's lands she was hot headed loud and unruly.  Now calm, elegant, and ruthless no one understood just how she became so unreadable.  An issue among those tasked with controlling and manipulating her.