Prologue: Orange Horizon

A young girl plays witness to the last normal day of her life.

Just before sunset a young girl of sixteen strode along the harbor shore, the light cast an orange glow over the Floridian shore and the Spanish style mansion set back from the water. As she sat precariously upon a low stone wall she could only just make out the crimson sails of her father's merchant ships.

Her silent reverie was broken by a cry from the house. "Octavia Serafina Varinia Santillian!"

Jumping to her feet she called back, "I'm coming, Señora Marento." Picking up her long skirts she ran to the door where the housekeeper stood.

"Cena is waiting for you, Little Señorita." Seated in the dining room at the long and empty table - while Señora Marento and Enitan, the African butler, stood against the wall - she morosely ate the small meal placed in front of her.

"Couldn't you join me?" Octavia asked, leaning forward on her elbows.

"Elbows off the table, Señorita." Marento said gently, tacitly answering the question posed her. Removing her elbows, Octavia picked up a fork and moved the food around on her plate. At that moment the echoing roar of a host of ship canons on the sea reached their ears. Octavia jumped from her seat and flew back to the shore, another volley of of canon fire lit up the horizon as she approached. She barely noticed the other ship docked, its crew surrounding a fire on the shore. By the repair dock, Pedro, an eighteen year old native of New Spain whom her father had taken in, stood watching flaming ships turn the dark horizon orange as they slowly sank. Picking up a periscope from a workbench she focused, out of breath, upon the ships.

"Papá's ship!" Training her gaze on the attacking ship, she saw the British colors flying from its mast. "The British!" Her voice rumbling with anger. "Someone's got to do something!" She rushed toward the shore where a small row boat was beached.

"Octavia!" Pedro called from behind her.

"And where do you think you're going, Señorita?" A strange man's voice said, in badly accented Spanish, as she was seized.

"Let go of me! Let go!" She cried, accentuating her statements with hard stomps of her heel upon the man's toes, which seemed to have no effect upon him. "I have to get there! I have to help him! Papá!" The grip felt as cold and impenetrable as iron to her.

Pedro had taken over watch upon the ships. "Reina de Oro down." He announced in a low voice, making the sign of the cross as he said it.

"No!" Octavia cried, allowing herself to be lowered from the unknown man's hold to the ground, sobbing. "No, Papá, no!" Her tears of sorrow quickly turned to those of bitterest anger. "I swear my vengeance upon all ships that fly the British colors."

Author's Note

Thoughts please. Particularly if I should elaborate on the immediately following events or leave it here.

Reviews

[Cyndy Robinson]

I think the prologue is great. It definately hooks you, draws you into the story and makes you want to read more. You have enough description and everything else to put you there. Good job.

[JulianaSun]

The prologue would surely make me to want to read more about Octavia and the turns her life took after the loss of her father. The first thing I liked about Octavia was her peculiar name. A name also quite long as it often happens with Spanish names :)) Then it was her bravery that caught my attention, because despite the flaming waters she wanted to take a row boat to her father's ship. This is a very well-written prologue because it hooks the reader right from the first page.

Also I found a couple of minor mistakes. I thought I should point them out ;)

answering the question posed her – posed to her.

another volley of of canon fire – volley of canon fire