Serafina

Chapter 1

Serafina was never the same as anybody else. No one knew this, of course, because she was never seen by anyone outside The Fortress. Though she may not have realized it until she met Eamon, her chamber was her confinement. The servants were forbidden to step past the doors that blocked her exit; her father, Leader Roderick, and her teacher were the only ones who were permitted to enter. These were on her father’s terms. “This is for your own good,” he would say, “Outside these walls... there is only danger for you, my sweet daughter. You must understand.”
She had believed this for the last nineteen years of her life... so here she stayed.
A lump of blankets and pillows of brilliant gold and ivory lay in a heap atop a four-post bed, where a canopy of the same colors was drawn against the early morning sun, shielding the eyes of the sleeping girl within. The sunlight was coming through the solitary window in a circular room with gray stone walls. Over the years, vibrant green vines had coiled their way up the tower walls and into the window, latching themselves onto the room’s wall where they continued to thrive and grow. The sole inhabitant of the room begged for the plant to remain, as each spring brought beautiful buds of red roses. The color was a relief to the eye since almost half of the ugly gray stone was already covered by green and red.
Three knocks on the mahogany door of the room stirred the sleeper. Serafina’s eyes fluttered open and were shut in an instant. Groaning at the discomfort of nearly having her corneas sizzled out by the sun, she pushed herself up and lazily made the trek across her room to the door. She knew who was on the other side, but the visitor always made her check anyway by looking through the peephole. Like every morning, she was met at the other side by a graying bearded man. Sighing, she opened the latch of the door and stepped aside, letting her father in. Once the door was closed and re-latched, Leader Roderick turned to Serafina with a huge, goofy grin spread across his face.
“Dad, the sun is barely up,” Serafina complained, scratching the back of her head.
“My dear! I should think you would want to be awake as early as possible today! Last time I checked it’s your twentieth birthday,” he responded while his eyes raked over the mess of hair atop her head, “and I should think you would have thrown a brush through your hair before presenting yourself before an important man.”
“Well excuse me, your Highness, for not spiffying myself up for your presence at,” she glanced at the small palm-sized sundial sitting on her windowsill, “six in the morning.” Ever since the people of Parideas had decided to name Founder Roderick “Leader” upon the birth of Serafina, he had developed a set of expectations from his daughter. After an accusing glare from her guest, Serafina huffed and walked over to her vanity, sitting down and grabbing her brush. Her normally long, wavy auburn hair was at odds and ends on her head and, as usual, was a beast to get the bristles through. After a short battle, Serafina declared herself presentable and turned to face her father once more. “Better?” she asked, annoyed.
Roderick laughed. “Come here, I have something for you,” he said as he pulled a large, white box with a ruby ribbon from behind his back and held it forward. “What’s a birthday without something overly packaged from your parents?”
Serafina reluctantly took the gift and stared at the ribbon. “Mom, too?” she asked uncomfortably, not meeting Roderick’s eyes.
“Yes, your mother, too,” he responded gently. Fire flared in Serafina’s eyes as she shoved the gift back into Roderick’s arms. “I don’t want it,” she stated firmly as she stormed back to her bed and sat with her back to her father. Then, remembering her manners, she added, “No, thank you.” Unsurprised by her reaction, Roderick walked over to Serafina’s bed and placed the package on her sheets. “She made it for you, you know,” he started.
“So why doesn’t she come and give it to me herself?”
“You know she cannot,” he said warningly. After a pause, he continued, “It’s a dress. It has an open back and everything for your--”
“And who am I supposed to wear this for?”
Taken aback by the sharpness in her voice, Roderick started toward the door, then stopped, remembering his role. “You’ll watch your tone with me, Serafina. You sound as though you didn’t get a very good night sleep last night,” he suggested, hopefully changing the subject.
“I didn’t.”
“When did you fall asleep?”
“The moon was low in the western sky.”
“Why so late?”
“There was a meteor shower last night. I was watching it.”
“In your window?”
“Where else would you suggest I watch the sky?”
This time, it was Roderick who lost his temper. “You mean to tell me you were sitting at your window all night? Have you forgotten that I forbade you from staying within eyeshot of the people of Parideas?” “But Dad--your Leadership! It was as dark, no mortal man could see me for miles!”
“And no mortal man, woman, child, pig, or dog shall! I will not have my daughter in danger!” Roderick took a deep breath and calmed himself slightly. “If I catch you doing this again, I will find enough stone to personally and permanently close that window. Do you understand me?”
Serafina remained silent at her father’s threats.
“Serafina I asked if you understood me!”
“Yes, your Leadership,” she said in barely a whisper.
“Very well. Happy birthday,” he muttered as he left the room, slamming the door behind him and locking it from the outside, something he only did when he was furious with her.
After a few moments of sitting with her eyes closed, Serafina rose from her slump, knocking over the gift and kicking it under the bed. She walked across the room, her feet seemingly weightless despite her heavy heart, to the full-length mirror next to her armoire. She stood in front of it, first admiring its floral pearl frame and letting her eyes and her fingertips travel to the decaying remains of the only white rose to bloom on her vines. She had plucked it from the rope-like plant during the last summer months and laced it in one of the nooks of the frame. Considering it was now November, the flower was all but white. Insects had decided to make the brown petals home, and at first a disgusted Serafina had considered throwing it away, but reconsidered when she realized they were her only other company. She tore her eyes away from it and onto the looking glass in front of her. Staring back at her was the reason for her imprisonment.
There before her stood a girl whose locks of maple rippled from her scalp to her chest. Eyes of the purest golden brown stared back into hers and were intensified by her untouched olive skin. She was thin due to the small rations designated to families, Founders or not, that was necessary to keep all Parideas alive and fed after The Ending War. Her body was overall sleek and slim, as though she were built to escape the wind.
However, her most striking feature was neither her beauty nor the intensity of her eyes, but the pair of pure white wings that grew from her back, reaching the length of her body when folded. If ever she took the chance of unfurling them, the span could nearly touch opposite walls of her room. Her father frequently discouraged her from doing this, yet she took the opportunity whenever she could; it felt refreshing to stretch her wings. She would do so especially in the daylight because the sight of them would bring her to tears. Not tears of sadness, certainly not, but of amazement at the beauty. In the sunlight, flecks of gold would shimmer as if all the riches in the world were laced between her feathers.
According to her father, these things she thought were so brilliant were incredibly dangerous, and every morning she stood in the window allowing them to greet the sunlight, she could never understand why.