Amaque Arabieplith Was a ghost. Just like the other three girls in the room with her. A moving, translucent, ghost. Behind her, the four bodies of herself and her companions lay in a line on beds, lifeless. Well not completely lifeless. She wasn't exactly dead. She could tell that much. When she stood close to her body, she could almost feel a pull. Like a thin little thread connecting her soul to her physical form. However, it was indeed thin and thinning with time. She may not be dead yet, but she was dying. Whatever had her under it's spell would kill her eventually.
She stood at a tall window, her back turned to the bodies. Moonlight, crisp and silver, bathed everything in a surreal glow. The deep sapphire velvet silk of her gown, the black velvet cloak she wore, the other princesses milling about the room, the walls, everything was washed and silvery. Long spiraling tendrils of white-blond hair looked even brighter in the moonlight, spinning their way down to her hips, her skin a smooth porcelain, her eyes a deep velvety black. Plenty of people called Amaque beautiful. She was a princess afterall, and her name did mean forgotten beauty. But it was beauty that had a coldness about it. Like an icicle. Cold, hard, and yet, strangely delicate.
She turned her velvety black gaze away from the window, tired of looking out yearningly at the passerby. With a sigh, Amaque held her hands out before her. Translucent, but if she concentrated hard, she watched as the color grew more complete and she began to look solid again. It was merely an illusion that was nearly impossible to keep up for more than ten minutes, but she found that as she practiced, it became easier. She could also turn it the other way and dissappear completely. Being a ghost, did have it's advantages.
She looked at her body on the bed and twirled the emerald teardrop nestled against the wing of her collarbone. Her physical form was wearing the same thing as she was now. A long sapphire silk gown, a black velvet cloak with the hood pulled down to cover her sleeping eyes, and an emerald teardrop necklace around her neck to represent her element. Glancing at the others, Amaque lifted her hood and pulled it down to shade her eyes, it's velvet hem hovering just along the bridge of her nose.
"I'm leaving." She announced to the others in a voice that matched her appearance. Ice. "I don't intend to stay here in this little room until I die." She shook her head, white ringlets bouncing. "I'm going to do something about it." With that, she stepped forward to leave. She knew she could teleport, but actually making an exit seemed more final somehow. Like she wasn't joking.
She reached for the doorknob, but was stopped up short. It was already turning on it's own. The door flew open, sliding right through her, and in stepped four boys. Guards from the palace. The ones her father had left in charge of watching them while he was in search of the healer. At first, she merely ignored them, walking straight through them into the hall. They were ghosts anyway. All the boys would see was a room with four sleeping girls.
"What is this?"
Amaque turned slowly. They seemed to be stunned and looking straight at Amavain. In response, her friend scoffed. "What does it look like?" And Amaque smiled a tiny proud smile. Good job Ama. Give them sass. She herself was particularly fond of sarcasm. That was when Scarny jumped up and her smile completely dropped. "Why do you act as if you have not heard the rumors. Shouldn't you have prepared yourself for this? Are you just afraid of what we can do NOW that we are 'ghosts'? We are still princesses so speak!"
'We are still princesses so speak!' Amaque winced and rolled her eyes. Just because they were princesess... With a heavy sigh she passed through the boys again to the other side, standing beside Amavain. She placed a hand on Scary's shoulder and shook her head. "Relax Scarny." She rolled her eyes again, and then realize that her hood was still shielding half of her face. She pushed it down gently, white-blond spirals tumbling down her her hips, velvety black eyes revealed.
She laid her eyes on the one who'd spoken for a second before looking at Scarny. "Seriously. I'm sure if you'd seen a ghost you'd be pretty shocked too." She said with a smirk. Scarny was gifted with fire and so often, her temper was impossible to control. She turned to the boys, laying her eyes on them again. "So are you just going to stand there or are you going to explain what you're even doing here in the first place?" She asked, looping one arm through Amavain's.
Lyvain Dryeardlues had been playing cards with a few other knights when the king's messenger arrived, explaining that the King required and audience with him immediately. Lyvain had been confused at first. Why would the king want to speak with him? He was supposed to be leaving the next day, heading off to lead his men in some distant war, always faithful to the strongest of the kingdoms no matter what the cost in life.
But now he'd been ordered to stay behind. Along with three other knights. A new knight was placed in charge of his men, and Lyvain was placed in charge of four sleeping bodies. Not exactly the most exciting task he'd ever had. He'd rather be away in the war fighting nobly than milling his time about the castle "defending" the princesses. Who was going to harm a princess? The four girls were loved dearly by his kingdom as well as their own. Why would someone feel the need to kill them?
They were gorgeous though. It was a sad thing they were unconscious. If they were awake, his job would be ten times more interesting. "Well, seems like we get to go and check out the castle."
Lyvain looked up as his card game was once again inturrupted to find Zarail Cyredeplith standing over him. It took him a second to realize that this man must be one of his new team members and was charged with the same thing he was. Deciding that he would never finish his game, Lyvain took a swig from his drink and threw down his cards. "Good luck ladies." She told the other men before walking away with Zarail.
They went and found the other two before the four of them began exploring together. Something didn't seem right and all the while, Lyvain was extremely conscious of the bow on his back. They passed through a cold spot and Lyvain shivered, blond hair quivering.
The four of them stopped up short at a room and Zarail reached forward to grab hold of the knob and push the door open. Inside, were the sleeping bodies of the princesses. All seemed normal, but Zarail spoke up and Lyvain turned to see what had shocked him. Four.... Ghosts! He felt an extreme chill pass through him as one of the princesses literally walked through him. His eyes locked onto the blue eyes of the princess he knew came from the water kingdom. The one that had been mysteriously destroyed. She was beautiful and his eyes rolled over her quickly, trying not to stare as the others spoke.