The Gathering: Race For Immortality

Chapter One: Natalia Williams

A young serf entered the dressing room, carrying the attire I was expected to wear for tonight's ceremony. I let out a sigh, preparing to put on the heavy dress. There were several maids there to help slip it over my head and do up the back. I tried to stand straight and tall, allowing them to tighten it as much as they could. They took their time, making sure everything was perfect. While I waited I fingered the stiff lace that covered the ivory gown.

The room was hot and sticky. I stood there as they pulled back my light brown hair. The curls kept flopping in my face. I blew them out of the way.

Soon the tall, wood doors opened and another man walked in. It was Zavreon, a noble. My father often entertained him here.

"Natalia, how you've grown" he stepped closer slowly. "This must be quite exciting for you, becoming royalty so soon"

I shot daggers at him, "That's not quite the word I would use" my voice was shaky.

He smiled, coming closer to put his hand on my shoulder. "It was a tragic event, I know" He said, trying hard to imitate sadness in his tone. He paused,"But a fortunate outcome all the same"

That sickened me.

Before I had a chance to say another word, I was rushed out the doors, leaving Zavreon behind in the dressing room. One maid led me down the long hallway, while the others held up the bottom of the long dress. It was really meant to be worn by an adult. I was thirteen.

The maids stopped at the doors, letting down my dress. I walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the grand hall. I could already hear the chatter of hundreds of people below. The grand hall was filled with nobles. They had come from far and wide to witness the ceremony. I looked down at them. I watched the serfs come out, serving drinks to everyone.

It wasn't long before some of the guests noticed me. I saw a few of them nudge each other and then point up at me. My stomach churned. I was not used to being the center of attention.

I lingered on the balcony until a woman called me over to her. She was waiting in the stairwell to my right. She told me to hurry up and go down to the throne.

At the end of the grand hall there was a throne. It was where my father used to sit.

I hurried down the spiral staircase that lead to the grand hall. When I stepped out, the place fell silent. I felt strange, embarrassed or something. I just wanted everyone to stop looking at me, mostly because I felt like I could cry any second. It was a long walk from that stairwell to the throne. They had layed out a carpet for me and everything.

When I got there, there were three people standing there, dressed all proper. They were men. One, I recognized from somewhere, but I couldn't put my finger on it. One was holding a red pillow with my mother's crown on it. The other stood beside the throne, opposite the crown guy. He didn't do anything the whole time.

To sit in my father's thrown and wear my mother's crown felt altogether wrong. I tuned out most of the ceremony, finding comfort in a childish daydream.

After hours upon hours the crowning ceremony finally ended. Each noble bowed to me on his way out, usually adding in a good blessing for my future.

Once the Grand hall was cleared I made my way up to my room. I was exhausted in every way imaginable. The corridors were empty aside from an occasional maid here and there. I pulled out my hair as I walked. I caught a glimpse of the night sky on my way past a large window. It was pitch dark. The stars weren't even out.

As I went to push the door to a stairwell, someone pulled it open on the other side. I lit up when I saw him.

"Kyrin!"