Wintersmoon

Chapter 9- The Past Is Starting to Catch Up

Previously
Speedily turning on the heel of my foot, I rapidly departed from the scene. A grin spread across my face as I laughed at the stupidity of this life.
I had the audacity to scream insults at the King of Everlit. On my birth date, I wouldn't have even stepped one foot near the palace, let alone yell at the highest authority of the land... I was Changing and maybe not for the good. The grin fell from my face.
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    Slumped over on the window seat, I sat. Huffing, I laid on my back, giving up on the slightest glimpse of hope I'd been holding back that this was all a nightmare. I had a little glimmer of hope somewhere in the back of my mind that this dream was just that, a dream. But no, nothing was ever so simple (not that dreams were simple, in fact they were one of the most complicated and complex thoughts and plans that the subconscious could create).
    I would love to say I hadn't, but it was at this point that the floodgates opened and it all came rushing in. I curled into a ball, like a hedgehog does when it feels threatened, and rested my face between my knees, uncomfortably.
    A tear escaped the confined space of my eye and the warm droplets ran down my face. Why the girls from school had ever wanted to be princesses or marry into the Royal family, I had never known...
Encircling my pale knees with my skinny freckles arms, I closed my tear-clumped eyelashes. I still hadn't figured out my heritage. I wasn't related to the horrible Royals of this palace. Was I...?
A cry erupted from deep inside my throat, developing into a guttural growl the longer I held it, reverberating around. I looked up, a new feeling of worry of Change growing inside me.
However, the walls of the room I was starting to grow familiar to weren't concealing me anymore. Instead, dark metal walls surrounded me, closing me in and trapping me in a pit of black. I shuffled myself forward, the bed beneath me had disappeared into a shiny, polished flood of metal plates.
    They were an array of colours, iridescent blues and purples all with the mutual theme of black and greys. Looking around, to see where I was, I spied iron bars caging weapons beyond imaginable. In one cage sat humungous swords as long as seven feet and daggers with pointed spikes running down the side of the blades. And a basin full of swirling purple water, metallic hues bounced out and reflected shapes on the ceiling. In the cage opposite me I could see hammers and what looked like a handle fixed to a glossy black thing. I'd seen it somewhere before, they were really powerful things from around two millennia's ago that we weren't allowed to use and no one had owned or seen for at least four or five centuries. They had a name beginning with an a. No it was an f. Or was it a g...?
    A gravelly ancient voice whispered inside my brain.
    Gun.
    I nodded approvingly, remembering it from History lessons.
    I was about to stand up from the floor, when a figure detached itself from my body and stood in front of me. He stood tall, but smaller than Reys. A simple golden circlet day on his thick head of jet black hair. The man turned around, as if feeling something was behind him then looked directly at me. Although, he looked straight through me as if I wasn't there, shook his head in disbelief and turned back around.