The Golden Age
Prologue
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1585 - Madrid, San Jerónimo el Real
The church's high-domed ceilings echo with the Latin hymns of the monks. Their voices sing as one, calling upwards to the heavens, praising His name. A man walks by the ecclesiastics, his green eyes kept low in the presence of men so holy.
His boots are silent on the delicate marble floors and his shadow flickers in the candle light, a monster cast against the walls that depict scenes of war and salvation.
Finally, he reaches his destination, a long hallway at the end of which stands a man draped in expensive attire. Quietly, he waits for him to finish his prayers, his eyes still trained at his feet.
A rustle of cloth alerts him and he straightens. Philip II strides towards him, his face blank and lost within thought. The ruler walks by without a word or even a nod of recognition. Instead, his hand reaches out and he mumbles, "Come my daughter."
Turning, he sees a young woman standing behind him, her pale cheekbones high and gaze steady. "Isabella…" The name is spoken with adoration. "God has spoken to me. The time for our great enterprise has come." She fidgets slightly, dark eyes flicking between her father and the silent man standing behind him in the shadows.
He takes her hand, continuing to lecture her fondly. "England is enslaved to the devil." The young woman's eyes continue to dart back to the man following her and her father. "We must set her free."
Holy men line their path towards the large black double doors. Their faces are solemn and held proud as their leader walks by them. They do not look at the man trailing them, rather ignoring him as one would a poor beggar on the street with shifty, untrusting eyes.
The doors open and blinding sunlight fills the dark insides of the basilica. Cheers, shouts and a crowd of over a thousand gathered people explode into life, chasing away the dull song of the monks.
Carefully, the princess let's go of her father's hand and walks forward so that she can overlook the swarm of faces. She leans against the banister and casts a look back at her father, doubtful. He backs away into the shadows of the church, nodding calmly and fingering the jewels around his neck. His mouth whispers orisons as his daughter turns her attention back to the congregation.
The man steps forward, leaning his head so his ear rests beside the murmuring lips. He deciphers only one thing in the midst of the Latin. "Begin the preparations. England will be freed." Bowing his brunet head, he turns on his heel and disappears into the belly of the church.
All the while, his daughter grips a doll in her hand, a smile slowly spreading across her face.
Author's Note
I was watching Elizabeth: The Golden Age and the total regality of it really inspired me to research to Elizabethan Era. This will be heavily, heavily, heavily based on the film, but will focus more on Arthur.
Just as a quick thing, the Nations are just emerging onto a more global scale. Before, they spent most of their time disguised amoung the common people, unsure of why they never changed. Their rulers are just finding them and figuring out what they really are.
Hopefully this story won't bog me down too much, but knowing me...