Fragmemt

Prologue

(3rd Person)

"James!?" Beth yelled, her voice hoarse and frail. Her husband rushed into the room, seeing his wife in disdain. "What is it?" He asks. Tears run down her face, as she holds up the bundle of life in multiple pieces of cloth.

"T-take her. Hold her. N-never let her go." She says, before fainting of exhaustion.

Bethany Brooke had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl, Elyssa. Such a small thing, she was. So small. So frail. So fragile. She could shatter at any moment.

James held the tiny baby, nearly dropping her at what he saw. Her skin was pale and smooth. Her eyes glistened in the flicker of the candle light. And her hair stuck to her face. Bit what frightened him, was that she was porcelain.

As if she could have broken at the touch.

She sneezed, looking up at her father with full, hazel eyes, swirls of green glistening as she smiled. She lifted her tiny arm, and he took her hand, gasping at the touch. She was warm. She could move. She, almost, looked human. But in his hand, it felt like he was touching a fine China.

And for that, he was afraid to break her.

At once, a loud clap filled the room, the hard patter of rain hitting the exterior of the castle. "Guards!" He boomed, "take my wife and daughter. Take them somewhere safe." He could her the clasp of footsteps just outside, his soldiers marching into war.

The guards burst in at his command, and he handed the baby to a young boy trailing along. "Boy. Follow these guards. You will care for my daughter. Is that clear?" He says.

The boy couldn't have been more than five, as his eyes widened at the command. The king wanted him? How so?

But there was no time for questioning, as the rumble of the battle above stirred. The baby let out a cry, sapphire tears dripping from her face. The boy looked down at the child, spans she at him. At am instant, she stopped her wailing, observing him.

"Go!" James booms. And with that, the boy scurries off, guards surrounding him to refuge.

And what a cold day that was. War and death entered the once happy land of the Celestine people.

Kind James was forced into battle, and nearly died. Bethany was foremost ill, but the baby. Elyssa, was happy. She did not understand how her world was thrust into disorder, but found the pleasantries of life in everything.

Such as the blue roses that would grow outside of their large house, the one they'd moved to during the battle. Yet, she did not always know the world was unsafe. And she never knew a time when it was.

Alas, the young boy stayed with her. His name was Caleb, a stable boy who earned his way into the royal guard.

And Elyssa would always crawl onto her mothers lap during stormy nights, whimpering as the thunder boomed outside.

"Precious rose, do not be afraid," Beth would say, "you were born under the storm. And in the rose. You are my fine, little china. But the world is selfish, and would wish to keep you as their own...."

And the child would frown, watching the fire flicker in their small room.

"You can be broken, my dear rose. Do not let the world break you."

"Why can I be broken, mother?"

"Because you are special. Pure. Fragile, love. Now hush, and wait for your father to come home."

"But mother! Why is it so- so scary out there?"

"Its just like the storm, rose. Its angry, but has yet to pass."

Elyssa Brooke still head much to learn. Much to do. Picking up fragments of her life. Understanding the world. Understanding, just what is was like to be broken.

What it was like to only be a fragment of herself.