Nara woke to the Sun's rays warming her face. She stirred and reluctantly
opened her eyes. She stifled a yawn and got out of bed. She sighed,
eager to start the day.
Her birthday had come. Too long had it been belated. Unlike the humans living beneath them, a Fae's birthday came once in a decade. Humans aged ten times as fast as them.
'Perhaps that's why they are always in a rush.' She thought as she opened her closet to the fine selection of gowns and evening dresses she owned. She decided upon an elegant amnest one. Very simple, but light as a feather from a love bird itself, and smooth to the touch.
She brought it fit to her figure as she smoothed the fabric over her arms, latching the ring of the sleeve around her middle finger on both hands. The neck line was low, though she was not yet of age to show too much skin. She took a graceful, obsidian scarf so as to be presentable to her Father. She put her hair in a braid, languidly leaving strands around the rim of her hairline.
She left her room to the Majestic Hall. The walls were a grand coat of gold, rimmed in a royal red. The walls were enclosed by paintings of her Father, Mother, future Husband, and self. The floor was a sleek black marble. The ceiling was casted a brilliant pure color, one unnamed, as to always keep the room alit.
She walked down the Grand Stair to see her Guardian talking profusely talking with my father. As his eyes cast away from my entrance, their meeting ceases.
"What meaning is there that my guardian would talk to my Father?" She asked, curtsying to her Father in respect. He bowed his head unhurried.
She looked to her guardian.
"Begone, I am in no use of you now." He bowed to her and left quickly.
"Will you not answer me, Father?" She asked watching him gazing at her guardian's retreating form.
"If what your guardian informs me is loyal, then I have much need to speak with you. But not at this time." She watched her Father left the room of entrance.
'How strange.'
Her birthday had come. Too long had it been belated. Unlike the humans living beneath them, a Fae's birthday came once in a decade. Humans aged ten times as fast as them.
'Perhaps that's why they are always in a rush.' She thought as she opened her closet to the fine selection of gowns and evening dresses she owned. She decided upon an elegant amnest one. Very simple, but light as a feather from a love bird itself, and smooth to the touch.
She brought it fit to her figure as she smoothed the fabric over her arms, latching the ring of the sleeve around her middle finger on both hands. The neck line was low, though she was not yet of age to show too much skin. She took a graceful, obsidian scarf so as to be presentable to her Father. She put her hair in a braid, languidly leaving strands around the rim of her hairline.
She left her room to the Majestic Hall. The walls were a grand coat of gold, rimmed in a royal red. The walls were enclosed by paintings of her Father, Mother, future Husband, and self. The floor was a sleek black marble. The ceiling was casted a brilliant pure color, one unnamed, as to always keep the room alit.
She walked down the Grand Stair to see her Guardian talking profusely talking with my father. As his eyes cast away from my entrance, their meeting ceases.
"What meaning is there that my guardian would talk to my Father?" She asked, curtsying to her Father in respect. He bowed his head unhurried.
She looked to her guardian.
"Begone, I am in no use of you now." He bowed to her and left quickly.
"Will you not answer me, Father?" She asked watching him gazing at her guardian's retreating form.
"If what your guardian informs me is loyal, then I have much need to speak with you. But not at this time." She watched her Father left the room of entrance.
'How strange.'