Unveiled Pages

Jostling in the stiff lock, a rusty iron key granted reluctant entry. The rich oak floorboards squealed in protest as they were forced to bear weight again. Dust stirred, suffocating the open air, as it was dislodged from its resting places. Without a glance to the surroundings, a lithe young woman swept to the grand dining room window. The china of little interest, she pulled aside the damask curtains, opening the window they sheltered. Gently, she laid a glass telescope on the silk cushioined window seat. A moment to conceal her bright green hair, to polish the eyepiece of her life. A quick check of the time, she took a slow breath to fill the remaining seconds. Lifting her telescope, she looked to the roof across the forsaken street. The pool barely recognizable beneath years of filth, the formerly pearl white tile caked in thick dirt. A sanctuary for the wealthy had become a monument to their downfall. She choked down a bitter laugh as another woman emerged onto the roof. Her

No one can have power without first being influenced. Her blood red gown billowed behind her as she strode through the silent hall. Dozens of people lined the edges, pushing to get a glimpse, yet were held back by armored guards. As she reached the dais, her foot on the first step, she looked up to the portrait above the throne. Her eyes sparkled sadly as she bowed her head to her mother’s memory. A moment longer she stood, before ascending the remaining stairs and turning to face the crowd. “My mother was undeserving of her death. She rose this kingdom up from nothing, gave us all a reason to live.” Hair fell beside her face in long black waves. Her hands shook as her eyes turned to steel. “I killed her. I wanted the respect she had from all you. I wanted to be loved.” She refused to weep, to show weakness, as she faced the faceless crowd. No one can lead without first acknowledging one’s faults. Falling to her knees on the dais, her voice wavered as she removed the black

The small, crowded space echoed its raucous occupants. Beer, whiskey, and spirits were constantly being tossed back in celebration. Every person in the room held a glass or a bottle. All but one. One of the few females in the pub, she sat alone at a table in the corner, watching how carefree everyone else had become. Her brows furrowed as she drummed her fingers lightly against the stained wooden tabletop. Strands of her cropped black hair fell across the tops of her eyes; a hand brushing them did nothing to move them aside. Her eyes turned forlornly to the empty chair beside her, cast in shadow as it should be. “You should be here, Semira. We won, you know. I remember you said that we would, and I was a fool not to trust in you.” The wild clamor dulled to a more soft murmur as she continued to speak. “You saved me, Semira, pulled me back from the darkness I had chosen for myself.” Her voice shook as her vision blurred. “I would not be here today if not for you. You gave me t

The grand hall rang with dozens of conversations, full, yet not quite loud enough to overshadow the lilting music of the orchestra. Wine glasses were lifted to lips, peals of bell-toned laughter chimed in the air, and hors d’oeuvres floated around the decadent party. As the orchestra’s piece wound to a close, a tall, thin man stepped on stage, grasped the microphone, and called for Scarlett Iyer to come forward. Her long black gown flowed about her legs as she strode through the crowd. Reaching the stage, she smiled at the man as he handed over the microphone. Long locks of bright violet hair framed her face as she spoke, “I’d like to thank everyone for coming here today. It is an honor to be able to introduce my newest invention to you all this evening.” She presented a small glass vial, filled with brilliant pink liquid, to the crowd. The light glinted off the vial, reflected in her blue eyes. Radiant beauty bloomed in the room as she uncorked the vial. The crowd stared, frozen,