The Lightning Girl{Temp Hiatus}

The Lightning Girl

For the amazing Mo_Rose, AKA my real-life smexy with a capital M friend Cleo. You like my stuff, you love hers, kay?

The girl laughed as her dancing partner twirled her. The other guests look on with shock as the princess laughed and spun, faster and faster until they thought she would fall. But she never did, her satin slippers were good dancing shoes, much better than the shoes the other women wore. The princess laughed, a masquerade party was the perfect party for a fifteen-year-old girl's birthday ball.

As the song ended, the princess gave her partner a quick hug and danced off to grab a glass of wine from the nearby table. Her mother had told her she could drink the wine, and the girl took advantage of the privilege. The sweet taste shook her from the dance-induced haze, throwing her into a new one.

Looking around, the princess frowned. Her dancing partner was gone, and the guests watched her with a bit of shock on their faces. What, she thought irritatedly, a princess can't dance on her birthday? It was but a minute to midnight, a minute until they would take their masks off. She had been looking forward to finding out who her dancing partner was.

Wiping her hands on the sheer gold silk of her dress, the princess walked briskly around the room. Other children called out a greeting and she returned it half-halfheartedly. Where was her partner, and, more importantly, who was he? The guests began to count down from five and the princess raced out the door.

There was nothing out there, nothing but inky black sky and blinding white stars. The princess frowned, throwing the satin mask away. There was no one out here, and her dancing partner had disappeared. Thunder cracked across the sky, and a worried look replaced the frown. Then another boom of thunder, and light shocked the princess, making her fall down and scream in pain.

The guests raced out as they heard the princess's scream. Bright red lightning marks covered her body, some bleeding, some burned black. Her violet eyes stared lifelessly up at the sky, frozen in fear. Her white-blonde hair covered the worst burns that marred her once-beautiful face. Creamy skin had turned death white, the same shade the other lighting-struck children had turned. Those children had died.

The crowd receded as the king and queen rushed over to their daughter. The queen was beside herself with grief, sobs wracking her frail body. The king was calmer, inspecting the bloody red marks and the charred skin with delicate fingers. His poor daughter, a lighting child. The monarchs and the guests stared with regret at the body of the princess.

But them, much to their surprise, black eyelashes fluttered, and purple eyes regained life. Rising slowly to her feet, the princess looked around. The lighting scars covered her body from head to toe, curling down her arms and legs and ruining one side of her face. But she was alive, a miracle unheard of.

“Long live Crown Princess Elysia, one of the Lighting-Struck.”

More to come in uno momento