Queen Adara
Torches burst into light as I walk along the corridor. My cloak whips behind me and my bare feet slap against the Firestone. I rush towards the large, front doors. "My queen, whatever are you doing?" One guard asks, grabbing hold of my wrist to pull me to a stop. I send a wave of heat at him and he lets go, his wrist obviously stinging.
Once I reach the great, tall doors that lead to the courtyard, I stop dead. The beating of drums ring in my ears. I lean against the door and focus of sending heat to my heart. Calming me. But it doesn't work. I slip unconscious and my head hits the firestone with a sickening thump.
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A spark. A snowflake. A drop of water and a gust of wind. They all form together to create the cinax. The greatest immortal to ever live. Suddenly they burst into image. The same girl I saw before. Her face outlined in the shocking red of fire. Her hair the blue of water. And her dress a simple yellow. Just above her left breast glows a heart made from the white of ice. She holds her hands up. In one glows the yellow of wind and the white of ice. In the other the red of fire and blue of cold, cold water.
The image of fire. Her light and intelligent mind. Her kinda loving cloak she wears. And the ice and cold of her heart. Forever frozen in dread and despair. My heart grew cold and I was pulled into the conscious world once more.
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The girl is a cinax. My breath is quick and choppy. My head aches and and heat is barely there. I don't want that girl anywhere near me. She's dangerous and she doesn't even know it. Then the doors are open. Hot, night air brushes past me and fills the room. "My queen, we've got her." Captain James says, motioning begins him. A girl about sixteen years old steps forward. Her cheeks are flushed and her skin pale. Her hair is a dark, brooding black ad her features small an nimble.
She's skinnier than a prisoner and she wears a long, deep red dress with a travelling cloak. Her boots are soft leather. "Oh my." I choke out, fear overtaking my body. Heat flares around me. Finally, Captain James looks at, actually looks at me. Bleeding head, body splayed out on the floor and crinkled nightgown. He gasps. "My dear queen, what's happened?" He asks, pulling a long, tin sword from a sheath. "Oh, nothing. I j-just tripped a f-fell." I stutter, attempting to stand up. My head spins so I sit back down.
"Are you sure?" He asks, coming near. "Yes. C-can you p-please t-take me back t-to my room." I ask. He nods then turns to another guard. "Take miss Roya to the guest chamber." He says, then comes and scoops me up into his arms.
Roya
The queen was all flustered. Her firey red hair was all thrown up into a messy bun and the fly-always stuck to her face. Heat was Rolling off her body, and it even made me sweat. She lay sprawled out on the firestone floor, her fingers sticky with blood. As soon as she saw me fear gripped her eyes and she stuttered continually. Once captain James took her away, another guard, Christopher, brought me to a comfy room in the east tower. After climbing about 200 steps, we came to a large, wooden door with gold accents.
Christopher unlocked the door with a key he fished from his pockets, and let me in. The carpet was thick and grey. The walls painted a deep burgundy. The four poster bed had navy blue sheets and fluffy down pillows. Three large windows where on the north, east, and west. "I'll fetch you some supper and send a maid to undress you." He says in his kind, quiet voice. "Thank you," I murmur. He grins. "Your welcome, miss Roya." And with those few words, he leaves.
I wander over to a book shelf that rests beside my bed. I skim across a row of books until one catches my eye. The cover is a musty green a the gold lettering reads: "The Complete History of North America". I flip open the books to read a page or two. The chapter is titled "Swift Current, Saskatchewan". My eyes scroll down. 'Swift Current, SK was the first city in a number of cities that was destroyed, creating the kingdoms we now know. Although this was a rather small city for the time, the consequences where large and greatly infected the rest of Canada.' I pause. Destroy?
'Swift Current was the supplier of all the wind and solar electricity for almost all the large cities in the west. (Not Quebec, Ottawa or Montreal, for they had their own systems). On October 29th, 3568, the small city was bombed. There was only one survivor, a young child named Marie Kidd. She soon died after from the trauma of losing her whole family, and brain damage from a falling tree. She also suffered three degree burns. The bombing destroyed almost all sources of power for Toronto, Regina, and a couple small town in between.' I slam the book shut, tears threaten to fall from my eyes.
Then a knock on the door sounds. I slide the book back onto the shelf and stand up abruptly. I straighten my skirt and rush the swing open the large, elegant door. Christopher stands about a foot away from the door, holding a steaming plate of food. "May I come in?" He asks, using his normal, cocky smile. "Of course," I reply, moving so he can walk in and set the tray on the side table. He turns to leave. "Wait, no." I say. Christopher stops and turns to me. "Stay." He gives me a confused look. "I, uh, miss home and don't want to be alone." I conclude. He shrugs.
"Fine by me." He then plunks himself down in a leather chair.
