She saw dark images running past her peripheral vision. One, two, three, there it was again! She turned around in circles trying to get a glimpse of what was stalking her in the dense forest. The trees were unlike those she knew. These were tall and lush, the canopy blocking out all visible light. She held no torch and relied solely on luminous forest flies for light

Her breath quickened with an extra dose of adrenalin pumping through her nervous heart. There it was again, a shadow perhaps? It must have just been a fox…

“Renoir,” came a soft, male whisper. It sounded in no way threatening, but its presence set her on edge.

“Who are you, show yourself,” her voice came out softer then she intended.

“Renoir, come to us,” It said again before she tuned around to check her back for those shadows.

Her violet eyes opened up and were flooded with morning light. She was in her room. No one was really calling her name; no shadows were really stalking her. They all faded when her hand maiden opened her curtains, though she could swear she saw one fade slowly; rather then flee from the light like the rest.

She shivered as she dismissed her hand maiden and got up to look through the window and out towards the forest beyond the castle walls. Someone in there was calling her, and it scared her. Part of her wanted to truly dismiss it all as dreams, but deep in her gut she felt it, whatever it was.

She turned to her closet and quickly dressed herself in a simple dress before heading out to the great hall. It was early and the daily meeting that demanded proper dress were not to begin until later that day.

Renoir stepped lightly across the stepping stones in the castle’s rose garden. She sat on the stone edge of a fountain and sighed, she knelt over a rose bush to smell one of the lush blooms, pricking her finger on a thorn. She pulled it back and automatically stuck it in her mouth. She cursed lightly in her head, looking out into the distance where beyond the castle walls she knew the forest stood, an ominous shadow on the horizon. Somewhere in there someone was calling to her, sending strange visions into her mind at night. Why?

(Transition)

Twilight; in a realm of crystalline beauty, halfway between that of faerie and the human realm. The trees resembled magical origins with their shining leaves, reflecting prismatic rays of light. The residence areas were built of ancient wood, tall and twisted in elegantly carved fashions. Crystals were in abundance, the ornament of choice.

Outside of one such elegant mansion walked a young man of princely manner. Dark hair fell over his eyes in a boyish way, which he brushed away. A cape of the deepest amethyst trailed behind him, complimenting the faceted violet in his eyes, a color given only to his people, the Twilight Fae.

He knelt beside a glittering pool of enchanted water, pricked his finger with his jeweled dagger and let a ceremonial offering fall into its depths. “Let me see the girl,” he ordered in his deep voice.

The pool rippled and then reflecting back at him was the image of a beautiful princess. She was staring into the fountain, her finger in her mouth. She pulled it out to look at it, a drop of blood falling into the fountain. She sighed and then she spoke, frustration in her voice. “Why do I dream and feel like this? Even now?” she must have been feeling him. He had to admit that he was watching her lately, more then often. It used to be once a year or so when he was a boy, but as the time came closer to him actually meeting her, he couldn’t help himself. She had grown so beautiful, her long auburn hair, and the eyes that matched his own. She was marked, marked as his lover and future queen. He had to watch her, as the time of their meeting grew closer he knew that another intervention from the land of perpetual darkness, the fae realm, would take place.

“Renoir,” he sighed.

(Transition)

“Renoir” She stood up and looked over her shoulders, startled. “Leave me alone!” she yelled out in no particular direction. She placed her hands to her temples and sighed. With her composure regained and her assurance that no one else was in the garden, she felt ease enough to head back into the castle.

(Transition)

“Prince Cyan,” a man donned in lilac robes bowed, the blond rope of his hair falling over his shoulder. He opened his violet eyes to look at the prince. “You presence is requested in the lunar room.” The man lowered his head slightly before walking away briskly, his cape catching in the wind.

The prince sighed and closed off his mirror into the human world and walked away from the pool of water. He walked over the soft ground and onto the stepping stones that changed in hue with every footfall upon them. The whole of the twilight realm was bathed in the soft ethereal lights that were borne of magic. Magic flowed through every tree and every heart of the faeries. To the prince there was no day to day difference in his world, but the elders would be able to tell stories of a time when their realm was bathed in beautiful lights and magic formed warm auras over every being, sentient or not.

Stepping into one of the buildings made from the living bark of a tree, he climbed up the steps that wound up the trunk until he came to a room open on all sides, yet shielded with a clear light from the outside. There in a throne sat an old man. The life seemed to be drained from his violet eyes and his hair no longer held color. Nevertheless he was donned in rich robes and still held himself up with the willpower of a king.

Cyan bowed before him and then rose at the king’s word. “You have heard the accounts of our world a century before now, half of that perhaps? You know the tales of our shining citadel in the trees, do you not?”

Cyan nodded. The elders had told him stories with eloquent speech that would paint pictures in the air, literally and figuratively. “Why do you ask this of me now?” Cyan asked, though he already felt he knew the answer, he had been watching her only moments before.

“Princess Renoir is reaching her age within the next days. She is our hope for bringing our shining kingdom back to its power. She cannot do this alone; she will need you as the new king.”

Cyan nodded, “I understand. I perceive intervention from my uncle though.”

“Aye, your perception is no sharper then mine, I too have considered this. My warriors have been keeping an eye out. A tragedy like that on the night of her birth will not happen again.”

“I understand.”

“Yes, well, tomorrow you and I will be attending the ball. I wanted to make sure you were prepared. Make sure you woe her.”

Cyan grinned, “I am sure I can manage.”

“Cyan this is no casual flirtation like that with a tavern girl. We need her,” the king spoke sternly.

“As do I,” Cyan thought. “Fear not, I will not fail.”

“I would hope to bring her by her own will, but should your charms fail we will not hesitate more drastic measures.”

“Kidnapping?”

“Aye.”