11.
This is another mini-prequel for my project, Emerald - I wanted to resurrect this journal somehow, so I'm going with some old writing!
Guinevere was set to inherit the throne of the Antiqus, a race of people who were around when the world of Pouverà was first created. She lived a normal life until she was nineteen years old, when her village and all its people were destroyed by Rhianna.
Gwen walked down the coastline, her long white dress trailing through the sand. Her black hair was loose, flying through the air behind her in the wind. The sun was just beginning to set beyond the mountains in the distance, and Gwen knew that she should be heading home but she just wasn't ready. Going home meant that she would have to get ready for yet another party set up to find her a husband, a king who would sit next to her when she ruled. And since her father was ill, there were rumors that she might be ascending to the throne sooner rather than later. Gwen wanted all the last bits of freedom that she could get.
But Gwen knew that the longer she took, the more she'd have to listen to her mother go on and on about responsibility, and her little brother and sister would rag on her about how much they wanted the throne themselves and she should be happier that it would be hers by birthright. All of that talking would fill the silence she desperately wanted to have, before all of that responsibility would rest completely on her fragile shoulders.
Though she forced herself to head back home, Gwen's footsteps were incredibly slow, so that she was gliding rather than walking across the tan pieces of sand beneath her toes. The waves slowly made their way closer to her, soon lapping up against her feet, swelling all the way to her ankles. Gwen wished she could be swept back out to the ocean with the waves but she knew her place was here, in the castle the she could distantly see.
But the closer she got, a strange feeling came over her. Something was wrong, something was different. Gwen began walking quicker, picking up her pace and hurrying to the only home she had ever known.
When she came to her village, she stopped dead in her tracks. The entire place had been attacked, some houses still burning while the rest were ashen and looked like they had been hit by a tornado of ice. No one was in sight and the only sound Gwen could hear was her village burning. The castle, her home, was half-demolished, and the other half appeared to be completely frozen. Gwen didn't know where to turn, what to do.
Then she spotted a figure coming toward her, a black cloak covering its face as pale arms extended forward, in her direction. She was speaking something, but it wasn't a language that Gwen understood, plus she was too far away to be heard properly.
Gwen immediately turned on her heel and fled to the only place she could see: the ocean. She ran through the waves, slowed down as they tried to push her back to the shore. A burst of energy suddenly hit her in the back, ice prickling her skin. She fell into the water completely, her head immediately becoming engulfed by it. She gasped for breath and opened her eyes though they burned in the salt. She glanced around wildly, trying to find something to save her, something to fight back with.
Another burst pushed its way into the water, ice exploding. A shard came toward Gwen, but the water slowed it down and she managed to push it aside without getting hurt. Instead she was focused on something she saw on the ocean floor: a stone of some kind, one of a deeper and richer blue than the water surrounding her. She paddled her way down to it, picking it up in her trembling hand.
Immediately she felt air return to her lungs and she took a breath, somehow not swallowing the water. Instead, she felt as if she were above water breathing in oxygen as normal, rather than suspended in the salty water.
Gwen dropped the stone in shock, but it floated rather than falling back to the ground. She pushed it away, still able to breath. The farther it got, though, the more pressure she felt and as it got thirty yards away, she felt the water rush back into her lungs, dragging her down as her eyes started to flutter shut. But then her hand felt something smooth as the air returned to her lungs and she clasped the jewel, a type of sapphire.
Gwen let herself continue falling to the ground, slower this time, closing her eyes. She felt tears slipping beneath her eyelids but they were immediately assimilated with the other salty water all around her, and there was no evidence of her tears. Instead, she was completely alone.
Guinevere remained under the water for another forty-four days before she got up the courage to resurface and face her old village. But it was gone, as if it had never been there before. The creature was still there, though, waiting. She immediately sent storms of ice and hail to Guinevere, but somehow a type of force field protected her and she wasn't harmed. The Sapphire enabled her immortality, and so she remained safely in the water. The creature, Rhianna, dedicated the next dozen or so centuries to studying ancient magic, trying to figure out how to destroy Guinevere for unknown reasons. Guinevere, meanwhile, learned English from the different civilizations that came afterward. She also learned of the Four Jewels and made it her life's mission to keep them safe until the girls of the Prophecy would come.
Guinevere was set to inherit the throne of the Antiqus, a race of people who were around when the world of Pouverà was first created. She lived a normal life until she was nineteen years old, when her village and all its people were destroyed by Rhianna.
Gwen walked down the coastline, her long white dress trailing through the sand. Her black hair was loose, flying through the air behind her in the wind. The sun was just beginning to set beyond the mountains in the distance, and Gwen knew that she should be heading home but she just wasn't ready. Going home meant that she would have to get ready for yet another party set up to find her a husband, a king who would sit next to her when she ruled. And since her father was ill, there were rumors that she might be ascending to the throne sooner rather than later. Gwen wanted all the last bits of freedom that she could get.
But Gwen knew that the longer she took, the more she'd have to listen to her mother go on and on about responsibility, and her little brother and sister would rag on her about how much they wanted the throne themselves and she should be happier that it would be hers by birthright. All of that talking would fill the silence she desperately wanted to have, before all of that responsibility would rest completely on her fragile shoulders.
Though she forced herself to head back home, Gwen's footsteps were incredibly slow, so that she was gliding rather than walking across the tan pieces of sand beneath her toes. The waves slowly made their way closer to her, soon lapping up against her feet, swelling all the way to her ankles. Gwen wished she could be swept back out to the ocean with the waves but she knew her place was here, in the castle the she could distantly see.
But the closer she got, a strange feeling came over her. Something was wrong, something was different. Gwen began walking quicker, picking up her pace and hurrying to the only home she had ever known.
When she came to her village, she stopped dead in her tracks. The entire place had been attacked, some houses still burning while the rest were ashen and looked like they had been hit by a tornado of ice. No one was in sight and the only sound Gwen could hear was her village burning. The castle, her home, was half-demolished, and the other half appeared to be completely frozen. Gwen didn't know where to turn, what to do.
Then she spotted a figure coming toward her, a black cloak covering its face as pale arms extended forward, in her direction. She was speaking something, but it wasn't a language that Gwen understood, plus she was too far away to be heard properly.
Gwen immediately turned on her heel and fled to the only place she could see: the ocean. She ran through the waves, slowed down as they tried to push her back to the shore. A burst of energy suddenly hit her in the back, ice prickling her skin. She fell into the water completely, her head immediately becoming engulfed by it. She gasped for breath and opened her eyes though they burned in the salt. She glanced around wildly, trying to find something to save her, something to fight back with.
Another burst pushed its way into the water, ice exploding. A shard came toward Gwen, but the water slowed it down and she managed to push it aside without getting hurt. Instead she was focused on something she saw on the ocean floor: a stone of some kind, one of a deeper and richer blue than the water surrounding her. She paddled her way down to it, picking it up in her trembling hand.
Immediately she felt air return to her lungs and she took a breath, somehow not swallowing the water. Instead, she felt as if she were above water breathing in oxygen as normal, rather than suspended in the salty water.
Gwen dropped the stone in shock, but it floated rather than falling back to the ground. She pushed it away, still able to breath. The farther it got, though, the more pressure she felt and as it got thirty yards away, she felt the water rush back into her lungs, dragging her down as her eyes started to flutter shut. But then her hand felt something smooth as the air returned to her lungs and she clasped the jewel, a type of sapphire.
Gwen let herself continue falling to the ground, slower this time, closing her eyes. She felt tears slipping beneath her eyelids but they were immediately assimilated with the other salty water all around her, and there was no evidence of her tears. Instead, she was completely alone.
Guinevere remained under the water for another forty-four days before she got up the courage to resurface and face her old village. But it was gone, as if it had never been there before. The creature was still there, though, waiting. She immediately sent storms of ice and hail to Guinevere, but somehow a type of force field protected her and she wasn't harmed. The Sapphire enabled her immortality, and so she remained safely in the water. The creature, Rhianna, dedicated the next dozen or so centuries to studying ancient magic, trying to figure out how to destroy Guinevere for unknown reasons. Guinevere, meanwhile, learned English from the different civilizations that came afterward. She also learned of the Four Jewels and made it her life's mission to keep them safe until the girls of the Prophecy would come.