Prologue

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Eight years ago. . .

She ran and ran, her bare feet covered in scrapes, splinters, blood, dirt and bruises, her legs aching from dashing for so long and from the terrors hazing her. But she had no choice. Either escape or they would capture her, and the last Silvana would perish. She was the only one left.
"Guards!! Stop her!!" Malcom shouted from the balcony. Instantly, the gates ahead started to close as she trampled her way though reddish-silver blood and the unmoving bodies of her citizens, all dead. No no no! She thought as she sped up madly. Just as the gates closed, she jumped through and ran.
"Hasta la later, murderers!" She growled, flapping her shimmering, translucent dove wings and zooming away. Bronze locks of wavy, waist-length hair shimmered in the sunlight, billowing in the wind. As she flew away, a plan started to form in her conscious.
"They say Nothing Hill is remote enough, and the people there are kind. Hopefully they can help me." She murmured under her breath. Just then, she spotted a decent clearing obscured by trees and glided down to land.
"Malcom is definitely looking for me; better keep an eye out." She had to, alright. Because people were out there, bad people. They would do anything to get theirs clammy hands on her. For she was sacred.
She was an elemental.
A Silvana.
A royal.
A princess.
Princess Serena Silversword of Silvan.

(This is Serena [above] with her angel wings)

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(This is Serena [above] with her angel wings)

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