prologue

 

                She looked delicate; a shimmering bubble ready to be popped, or thin glass about to be dropped. Light shimmered around her edges, like sunlight filtering through stained glass windows.

There was a golden halo around her head, where locks of a similar color flowed in a gentle cascade of curls to her waist. Thick, dark lashes brushed high cheekbones, just over rounded cheeks. Eyes, now closed, were known to swirl in a complex pattern of blues, greens, and grays, strangely reminiscent of the ocean.

She lay on her back on top of the gold sheets on her bed, with her right arm over her stomach. Her legs were gracefully tossed before her, and her bare feet carelessly placed. Her body was petite, she being only fifteen, and her limbs were pearly, glowing softly in the predawn light.

An ivory, gossamer dress, simply made with thin straps, and a small ribbon tied tight around just under her breasts with a bow in the back. It then flowed, accentuating every lovely curve, to fall just below her knees in a light, uncontrolled fashion.

Her face, smooth and pale as the moon, was tranquil, unperturbed in sleep. Her full, light-colored lips pouted in a slight frown. Her every aspect shone with her innocence.

Her name was Iris Blackthorn. The year was 2137.