Once Upon Many Times

Cause For Celebration

Brielle’s party is set to happen in two days; packs from all around have gathered to celebrate her 16th birthday, a momentous day when she will receive her wolf and have her first run. The excitement is nearing overwhelming, but Brielle is fine as she smiles, thinking about her time with Adam, the Alpha heir. Having met him two days ago, she felt a bit regretful she didn’t introduce herself properly to him, but she wanted to experience the feelings that ran rampant throughout her body; the tingling sensations, the giddiness, the heat that blooms over her entire body. It’s surreal to her, the idea of having a crush on the young Alpha. She wished she had someone to talk to about the feelings that buzz through her young body, almost electrifying her, making her body hum with a burst of...something? She’s not entirely sure what it is, but it makes her happy, like she wants to shout out to the world, that this feels just oh so right.

On her way to see Adam, Brielle bumps into a young girl she had only seen a few times in her young life. Agatha? Amaya? Azlaya? She couldn’t remember her name, but it was an unusual one. She was seer Seraphina’s apprentice, learning ways to one day be helpful for the family. A slight chill crept up her spine at the momentary touch, yet it felt like a slimy, slithering sensation, causing Brielle to recoil. The young seer-to-be stares at Brielle, unblinkingly, her eyes just a bit dark, almost like staring into a bottomless pit. Her hair was the color of the dirt that surrounded the palace, her fair skin had small blemishes, scratches on her arms, neck and face, as if even her skin wished to remove itself from her body, a sense of foreboding tingling in Brielle’s mind. Her nails were a bit longer than most young women desire, caked with dried mud and bits of plant, as if she had just finished digging something for her mistress, and an ingredient or two for a concoction, possibly? She doesn’t know, nor does she desire to know if she were honest with herself.

“Pardon me, Princess Brielle. I did not see you in time. Hopefully I have not dirtied your outfit for today,” she stated, a hint of something in her nasally voice, contempt?

“It’s alright...your name again? I am sorry, I have forgotten it. I do not want to be rude and randomly call you by one that is not yours,” Brielle answered, hoping to make this uncomfortable conversation short and sweet. She normally remembers everyone she has met, but this strange creature makes it very impossible to want to remember. She had never ever felt right when she was around her and her family, always felt icky and wrong to her.

“It’s Athelyna, Princess. It is a bit unusual, I agree. I had best get back to my mistress. I have had to search for some interesting things for her today and now need to get myself clean. I was actually searching for the nearest washroom to at least wash my hands. Please pardon me,” the young woman responded, a quirky and somewhat mysterious smile graces her face, before she darted down the hall in search of the room.

“That one is so weird,” Brielle muttered under her breath, giving herself a quick shake to dispel the tiny tremors that had wracked her body. “Strange indeed.”

Deciding she did not wish to waste her time on trivialities, Brielle heads out of the palace, hoping to go out unnoticed, especially not by Lady Chamberlain. She had been reprimanded by her father for her failure to treat her with the respect her father says she should have for the old bird. Upset at the turn of events, she was required to stay inside the following day, so she was not able to meet up with the Alpha heir to become better acquainted with her as she had planned. Instead, to appease her parents, she trained on the hated instrument, determined to make the time fly as fast as possible, every wasted second torturous to her mind, body and soul. Once she had cleared all the studies expected of her, she happily went into her room and came to a quick stop. A nagging feeling came to her, but she wasn’t sure of what and why, but a pin-prickling sense of dread enveloped her.

Seeing a couple of palace guards patrolling the walkway, she flagged them down and made a request to have her room searched to find what the cause of her unease stemmed from; a cursory search found no evidence of potential foul play, which did ease her somewhat, but the feeling lingered like a bad smell. She gathered some clothes and went to a spare room on the same floor, wanting to rest before dinner.