Prologue
Long white hair shimmered in the moonlight as pure and beautiful as the night sky above it. Below it, silver, metallic eyes burned a colder, distant stare into nothing as she reached her hand up to grasp a pure white flower above where she knelt. So far from reaching the gem in the dark green thorn trap, she let her hand drop gracefully and hopelessly back to her side. Out of nowhere, luminous crystals formed, covering the grass around her and extended in a perfect circle in the groove she sat. Everything, even the trees, bushes and flower above her was covered in the glowing stone, lighting up the place the distant woman sat.
She was young in her late teens or early twenties by appearance and clothed in a long dress with a brown top and white skirt, back covered by her heavenly hair that reached below her waist in loose curls. The bottom of her dress was frayed and torn and she wore no shoes. After a few seconds or silence, there was crackling as something else was walking up to the crystal haven. The girl kept staring into the space through the now stone flower.
“Beautiful,” a man’s voice said and the footsteps stopped. “Such a beautiful aura you have. Constantly changing and growing; it’s unheard of.”
The girl continued staring, staring into nothing. “Nothing to say? That’s unusual for you, what happened to your witty comebacks?” The dark figure moved into the crystal border and continued forward until he was next to her. “Could it be that you gave up?”
“How many more have you done this to?” The woman spoke airily, rolling her head to look up at the figure next to her. He chuckled.
“Who knows, but you’ll go out with the biggest ‘bang’ for sure,” the other assured. The woman stared back at the spot she was looking at before as if seeing through the thick greenery that blocked the way.
He lifted his ringer and pointed at her, strange hues forming around it, hardly visible swirled around it like coloured mist getting thicker and brighter. The wind started to get heavier and the colours developed into a massive, bright spiral covering the groove millimeters past the pip of his finger. The wind was like a hurricane, centered around the spiral, the white hair moving hysterically around the unmoving woman. The spiral stretched backwards like a thin vortex of colours, as if repulsed by the woman as it cot closer and closer. Tears welled up in the woman’s magenta eyes but still, she did not move away or resist. The crystal reflected the light in a cascade of colours and in the strong wind, the flower, much like a lotus fell from the branches above the woman, got caught in the circular wind. The woman watched as it danced in the colours in front of her. The crystal she made around the plants deteriorated and were stripped of their leaves.
The wind stopped. The still crystal flower drifted into the woman’s hand. The vortex hit.
