Once Upon Many Times

Let’s Get This Party Started

Walking into the hall, Brielle and Adam, still with hands clasped together, move about the room, as they greet those who have attended the celebration. Many of the revelers nod or quietly speak among themselves about the young couple, some speculating regarding the budding relationship. As Brielle and Adam finally come to stand before his father for an introduction, the watchful eyes never leave them, carefully gauging the conversations all around them. A silent scoff is whispered into the air as the watcher listens to the party-goers complimenting the young couple, many wishing for the princess to be successful with the young man, hoping for them to be mated. Alpha Blake and his pack are a successful and powerful pack after the royal Lycan pack.

Stepping out of the shadows, Athelyna mingles with the revelers, offering a fake smile here and there, especially when she hears them talking about the princess and the Alpha heir, as well as the grandeur of the celebration. She trembles with the amount of willpower she maintains within herself not to voice her true feelings. Her mother would be greatly displeased with her, though she was not of the mind to truly care. Her thoughtful plans are taking root, her wicked spells are in place, there is just one more she has readied herself to invoke to wreak havoc on the girl who has everything. Slowly smiling at herself, she braces for the time, which is fast approaching. She cares not if the young Heir is her mate or not, she just wishes to see her fail at making the ultimate connection, the solidification of the mate bonding and the fulfillment of the prophecy. She cares not that this girl has not done anything wrong in the princess’ eyes. To her, she had been overlooked, made to feel unimportant, even by her mother, who she felt should have spent more of her time with her instead of the Queen and her family. But that will all be rectified tonight. Princess Brielle will not be getting her grandeur birthday wish fulfilled tonight, or any other night, if she has anything to do with it.

A cold breeze ruffles the shawl Seraphina is wearing, causing her to mutter to herself. The night was warm, as forecasted for the special occasion tonight. There were no musings of this coldness that seemed to try to seep into her very bones. She looks around as everyone is enjoying themselves, readying themselves for the finality of the celebration, the moment of revelation for the final child of Alpha King Ambrose and his Queen, Luna Amberleigh, when she is given her wolf. The excitement is in the air, as each person in the hall gazes happily at the young princess, some wishing her well on her upcoming meeting with her wolf, though, to the Seer, she feels a veil looming over her, not truly comprehending what is going on. She had felt a cloudiness shrouding her earlier, had begun to feel the weight of holding on to the prophecy, awaiting the culmination of the years and struggles endured, hope flaring as this day approached. The magnitude of this day is overwhelming most days, and on other days, a deep need for it to happen, to see the Moon Goddess’ wish and wants to be completed. But a nagging feeling has invaded her waking and sleeping moments. Doubt had started to cloud her mind, she had even meditated, done the sacred rituals requesting clearer sight. Instead of answers to clarify what she was feeling, she received a message that was loud and clear: all is as it should be. What could that mean, and why, dear Goddess, is this cold seeping so heartily into her soul? For this one night, a special, reverent night, she is blind, her sight unfocused, wavering, a feeling she is not accustomed to, and it brings with it something else: fear.

As the time nears the end of the long wait, Seraphina looks out again into the crowd and sees happy faces all around, until her eyes land on one figure, cloaked in darkness, unsure of what had caught her attention. It is when the unknown figure overstepped their shadow, their face illuminated, their lips moving silently, staring ahead at the young girl, whose eyes are glowing with happiness. With a sharp intake of breath, Seraphina recognized the silent, shadowy figure: Athelyna.

“What in the Goddess’ name is she doing?” she asked quietly, studying her daughter’s every movement. With startling clarity, she watched dumbfounded as her daughter slowly raised her hands towards the princess. The Seer’s eyes grew wide in fear, hastening to the child, who was to the Moon Goddess a special blessing, and threw herself in front of Princess Brielle, before a bright, blazing ball of dark light touched the young girl.

“NOOO!!!” Seraphina yells, just as she is hit, though she did not take the flaming ball onto herself completely. A small portion of the powerful dark magic grazed the princess, causing her to fall with a loud “oomph!” onto her back.

“Who did this?” yelled the Alpha King, looking around as his guards surrounded both him and the princess, creating a barrier to prevent further chances of harm. A cacophony of screams, the sound of terror, fills the great hall, the revelers scrambling away from the stage that was set for Princess Brielle’s first shift. A stampede of onlookers trying to find a safe passage away from the perceived danger, bewilderment and the scent of fear permeates the hall, with some who have fallen and are now in danger of being stomped onto the floor. Tables have been overturned, plates and glassware shatter on the floor, people haphazardly escaping any way they can.

“Ambrose, Seraphina and Brielle. Check on them!” Queen Amberleigh yells, shocking her King into motion as he rushes to his daughter and the Seer. As he gets to Brielle, he notices the top half of her dress was singed, a smoky wafted near her, as she lay on the floor unconscious. Laying on top of Brielle is Seraphina, a stench of burnt flesh and a smoky haze enveloping her, her mouth moving soundless, her breath hitches as she stares blankly ahead of her. King Ambrose doesn’t know what or where she is looking at, but he does know that she is in a state of shock, and is possibly dying before his eyes. She had jumped in front of his child, to protect her, with the knowledge she might die, the feeling welling up inside him was an overwhelming gratitude to her, for possibly, hopefully, saving his only daughter.

“Athelyna,” he finally hears her raspy voice say, repeatedly, each time becoming fainter.

“Your daughter?” King Ambrose asks. “Is she hurt? Do you see her? Do you need me to get her for you? Please, tell me. I’ll have my guards find her,” he says frantically, wanting to help her as she has helped his daughter.

“No. Not hurt. I am so sorry,” she says, licking her lips, blood coating her tongue and teeth as it fills her mouth slowly. “I’m so sorry, she did this.”

As Seraphina finally tells the King what she knows, staring into his once shiny, but now dulled with pain, blue eyes, tears fall freely from her eyes. She grabs his hand and pulls him closer, giving only one direction.

“Find my daughter, she did this.”

Gasping, King Ambrose yells to his guards, “Find Athelyna, the Seer’s daughter. Seraphina said her daughter did this. I want a total lockdown. Search every room, nook, hidden space everywhere. Leave no stone unturned. I want her found immediately!!”