The Society of the Ethereal Medallion

Prologue: In Which History is Written

The ground shook with horrific force, causing the city to crumble and fall. Tsunamis wreaked havoc on the golden city and the citizens within it. A once-prosperous city brought low...

"Hurry! More water!" A young nurse barked.

Tables were overturned as war raged beneath the ocean. Frustration was cut with stress in the delivery room. The Gods could hear screams far and wide of the city's civilians: the Queen joined in their shouts for rest and comfort.

"Push! Push Dione!"

Dione let out one last ear-piercing screech causing the ears of everyone in the room to burst and bleed. Her hands released the sweat-soaked sheets she sat upon; Dione had finished her work.

Time stopped, and a wave of silence rolled in.

All that the servants could hear was the panting of breath and then the high-pitched squeal of a newborn.

"A boy," a young handmaiden stated, tears of happiness falling from her eyes. The au pair cradled the bloody baby in her meager arms, shushing him gently.

"Agatha...bring him to me," Dione muttered breathlessly with fluttering eyelids.

Agatha quickly cleaned the baby, wrapping him in a blue silk blanket. She gracefully placed the calmed infant into the arms of his mother.

Just then, a nearby soldier burst through the golden doors, "Your Majesty...they're coming."

Dione ignored his warning, continuing to hold her child, memorizing every little detail about him. She was unsure of the time they had left together; nothing seemed simple anymore. Hot tears skimmed her face as she gingerly kissed her son's cheek.

The guard frantically glanced behind the entrance, unsheathing his blade, "Your Majesty! We must make haste!"

"There is no time! You must take him." Dione extended the child out to Agatha, who was shaking her head furiously.

"My Queen...I cannot." She gripped her metallic necklace tightly; the physical pain distracted her mind from the emotional pain of her soul. The Queen could not die; she could not leave her son, her husband, her friends in such a way.

"You must! Do not argue with me!"

Agatha took a moment to mourn the inevitable death of Dione. With a heavy heart, Agatha knelt at the side of her mistress.

Dione quickly and carefully placed her most prized possession into the hands of a quivering, inexperienced matron.

Agatha placed a kiss upon Dione's head, "It has been an honor, my Queen." Tears threatened to flow from the crevices of her eyes, bound to fall at any time.

Dione fought against them with a flick of her finger, "The honor was all mine. Now go, go! Get him away from here! Take him as far away as possible!"

Agatha obeyed, disappearing into a cloud of dust.

"Akecheta," Dione called.

A young guard jogged towards the Queen, who beckoned him. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"Protect them both. They are going to need you."