Prlogue: The Marked

I lived in a land where beauty was everything. One blemish, and society frowned upon you. One flaw, and you were shunned. Once something wrong was discovered, there was no being accapted again.

As "beauty" changed and evolved, people found new ways to stay "beautiful". Magic ran wild in the bad-lands, and people figured that if they could tame that spark, they could maintain status for forever. My father, the king's brother, tried this. It backfired, and I became cursed.

It started out small, barely noticable, but the more grief people gave me about it, the marks and lines spread. The lines swirled around my eyes, creating spirals and curly-cues. I personaly thought they looked cool, but as the awful comments continued, the marks spread. The worse the townspeople spoke of me, the got worse and worse, the hurtfulness never ceasing. Some days I'd try to cover the marks and swirls with face-paint and scarfs, but it never worked, something in the spell would kick in and slowly, the marks would show through. It was terible.

Usually the Immediate Royals, the king, his wife, and his children, along with the Extended Royals, the kings immediate family, including nieces and nephews, were invited to meetings discussing battle strategies, how to handle problems revolving around the kingdom, and how to handle imports and exports. Before the marks, the King valued my opinion, thought I was one of the smartest people there, and often took my advice to heart, now, as the marks slowly took over my face, I was banned. Not only was I never allowed to attend the meetings I was no longer to visit the Immediate Royals.

Even among my family I was shunned.

Normal Is Overrated

Today was just like any other, I woke up, slid on an elegant, yet plain dress, and made my way down the stairs to the library. I curled up on my favorite chair, tucking my legs underneath me. Our kingom was small, and not very well known. Everywhere around us, there were advancements, but we still stayed the same. In other places, cellular devices were commonplace, here, they were unheard of. In the neighboring countries, Ebay, whatever that is, was a place everyone aquired their possesions from. To those places, we were a thing of the past. We spoke the same language though, had the same slang, moody teenagers, and misunderstanding parents. Sure we had technological differences, but we were all the same.

I sighed. I had let my thoughts wander again, something that, here, was frowned upon. Women and girls were supposed to be focused and people of education, while the boys were allowed to get jobs, have fun, and be normal. I was even more restricted, confined to the estate. Believe it or not, I was quite stressed. I mean, how was I to get this curse lifted. Magic here isn't wizards and witches, it's orbs, balls of fire and things more un-thought of. My ridiculously self-absorbed uncle found an orb of a special kind of magic. When he broke the orb, the magic ricocheted off of his overly magicked and lifted face and hit mine. The thing that cuts me most though, is the fact that he isn't sorry.

Everyday, whenever he sees me, he always says, "The gods must love me more than you, for they told the magic to hit you square in the face. Why was I cursed with a child unloved by the gods." When the curse was still small and new, his words stung and hurt, now, they were meaningless.

I tried to focus on my reading again, but it was a failed attempt. Angrily, I slid the book away from me. I folded my arms on the table, hiding my face in them. Why did this have to happen to me? Was I really that awful a person that I was cursed? I shook my head. No, I knew that I wasn't. I slumped in my chair, then heaved myself up. I climbed the stairs up to my room, and relaxed on the balcony, breathing in the fresh air.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 25.11.2011

Alle Rechte vorbehalten

Widmung:
This is for all those who have been told they aren't pretty enough. You are beautiful, don't ever forget that.