Hiya! So, I've written another prologue for Everlae. It's very different from anything else in the story, but it's very important. Or will be, later on. It's also very weird and confusing. I'm not going to take the time to add it to the actual document on here yet. I just want to test it out for a little while. Get your oppinions so I can edit it and make it more understandable. This is an extremely rough draft. So point out any typos, missing details, vague sentences, confusing parts, etc! Please! Otherwise, I hope you enjoy. Thanks in advance for reading, your support, and your advice/corrections! -Elle.
A child sat alone on a vast balcony, tearing and crushing and discovering a leaf. Her long black hair was swept over her shoulder in an attempt to keep it out of the way as she worked, and it nearly concealed her entire right arm from view. The night sky’s glittering pinpricks were reflected perfectly in that hair. If she shifted her head the tiniest bit, an onlooker would get the impression that tiny beads of light were actually glowing within the black locks; it was the vast and dark universe which protected the poignant world that was her mind.
She frowned as she came across a string like vein in the leaf and tried to separate it from the rubbery green material.
“Tiny passages come from the tree and spread throughout the leaf so that it can deliver the food and all else that makes a leaf a leaf to it.” Ingreta told her.
“That’s like what you do,” she replied to the servant.
The servant’s lips pressed together before she allowed an answer to escape.
The passage broke, though, so she tossed it aside. She stared at the mangled bits by her feet and suddenly realized that the tree could not bring this leaf any more food. It was a permanently severed joint. She wondered what would happen to it. Since the things that made the leaf a leaf were no longer able to make this leaf a leaf, would it become not a leaf? Perhaps this was why the trees guarding the horizon changed colors, just before it all vanished and left skeletal lines to scratch the fog. When a leaf turned yellow or orange was it suddenly not a leaf and then banished from all of the other leaves until finally the last leaf turned crimson and disappeared out of shame? The girl suddenly yearned more strongly than she ever had before to escape the walls of her confinement just so she could fetch a tree and bring it back. Would the tree trunk change color once it was taken from the dirt?
A tiny bug flew by her cheek and she move to swat at it, but then she remembered something else Ingreta had told her:
“Everything you see, everything that can move, sing or change comes from the sky, dirt, and water.”
The girl thought, if we all exist because of those three factors, surely we are all the same? With an unmediated swiftness, she grabbed the insect out of the air. Cupping her hands and peering through the space between her thumbs, she watched the bug walked along the creases in her palm. She moved her left hand to pinch its wings between her forefinger and thumb and lifted it in front of her nose. The tiny life began to struggle now, as this was unprecedented contact for two creatures of their kind. She watched its hair-thin legs twitching furiously, batting at her fingernail. Then she gripped the tiny body with the fingers on her right hand.
“Don’t worry,” she muttered. “The leaves always come back.”
And she pulled.
It took little effort to separate the wings from its body. They stuck to her finger. She stared at them, fascinated by their transparent qualities and waiting for them to change color. The long white wings on her own back fluttered with excitement; however, she felt disappointment when it didn’t happen straight away. Then again, her leaf was still green. Maybe it took a little while.
Meanwhile, the bug had escaped her grip and crawled across her wrist all the way up to her elbow. Its movement tickled her skin in an unpleasant way so she brushed it off and watched it land on its back on the floor. It scrambled to right itself on its feet then walked in circles, clearly lost. For a moment she wondered what it would do until its wings came back, but a noise distracted her: loud and cheery voices from below.
She excitedly scooped up the pieces of the leaf and the two wings and dumped them in a pocket in her gown. She glanced at the bug, which was still wandering aimlessly. It would be there when she returned, probably. She ran to the edge of the balcony and climbed on top of the rail. Light from the left wing of the castle illuminated the grass. The girl stood there for a moment, perfectly balanced on the thin beam, and stared at it. Then she jumped, long hair trailing like a ribbon after her head. She flapped her wings, and they easily caught the weight of her light body. She swooped downward through the chilly air until she was level with the grand opening. Her feet touched the ground at a run and she dashed toward where five people stood down the hall. A servant, the Queen’s advisor, and the queen and king, who towered over everyone; the pulsing magic beneath their skin was so strong that the air surrounding them felt alive. Another girl stood between her parents; she was approximately the same height as the other child and her hair was roughly the same length.
“Sully!” The little girl with black hair cried.
“Do not call me that,” she said tersely. “It is unbecoming.” The queen patted her shoulder approvingly and she beamed.
Seemingly unaffected by her abruptness, the girl said, “You must tell me all about your travels!”
Sully bowed to the queen and king and then turned toward the girl. “Well, come on then.”
As they walked side by side, the contrast between the two girls was undeniable. While one’s hair was darker than the night, Sully’s hair was brighter than the rays of the sun and seemed to catch every color the light could throw at it. Both had opaque, pearly skin that glimmered with the lights in the hallway; however Sully’s had a pink hue.
They entered a large bedroom at the end of a corridor and Sully went straight toward a large mirror hanging on the wall. The other girl curled up on the end of the canopy bed.
Sully talked as she brushed her corn silk hair. “Oh, Landa, it was magnificent. First, we went to that village just over the hill. You know, Tulach? Everyone was excited to meet me, and we had dinner with the sweetest faeries. Then we went to a few more villages that were kind of like that, but after that we went into the forest! I met faeries who live in water, trees, and underground. Some of them were barely bigger than my hand! Can you imagine?”
Landa grasped every word her sister said desperately, each a symbol of what she couldn’t see from inside the castle. However, as her sister’s stories were usually a source of wonder and imagination for the girl, now something dark swirled in her chest. Staring at her hands, she said, “Why is it that you get to go to these places, and not I?”
Sully’s hands froze on a piece of her hair. “Because I’m your better. You are too odd for the faeries to handle; you do not bring the sense of peace that I do. You would drive the faeries into chaos.” She turned from the mirror finally and stared at her sister. “Landa, do not give me that look! You know I would not say those things if they weren’t true.”
“Do not call me Landa,” she snarled. “It is unbecoming.”
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