Chapter 1

Everything looks picture perfect, but what are those shadows that steal away laughter and freedom? Darkness closing in There's only one thing I'm sure of It's time to rise, And go beyond the horizon.

I meet my gaze with the girl in the mirror, those clear grey eyes staring unflappably back. I reach up, weave a bluish-grey ribbon into my hair and braid it down. I smooth down the pale blue gown and twirl, watching its folds flutter in the full length mirror. The faint perfume rises around me, bringing to life the crisp smell of the morning, and... I stop abruptly. It reminds me of fresh, blooming flowers. My mind freezes and I slide down to the floor. My head rests against the cold wall, breathing in deep to calm myself.

My hands clench beside me. I let out a puff. There hasn't been a single biologically bloomed flower ever since the Imperium took over Poder.

The Imperium.

I grit my teeth and force my fingers to unclench. I stand, my body trembling, but not from cold nor fear, and walk over to the single white paned window and look out at the artificial, uniformed, unnatural so called "neighborhood" of Purpura. Those beautiful flowers dotting the area? Fake. Faux. Sculptured by hands, or who knows what, produced and manufactured. Like every other thing in existence now.

Poder, the country once known as the United States of America, strives under the ruling force of the Imperium, the self-appointed nightmares of every single sane soul throughout Poder. Otherwise, they call themselves the gracious saviors. In truth? They took away all that this country was, once, building a whole new country in their image and rules, molding, or rather, forcing everything into the "perfect" life they created. Thus, Poder was born.

Here, fear is the only thing that barricades freedom, our individual rights stolen for nothing, but a mere emotion. The Imperium troops storms in on us in such numbers and forces that fear had long since been carved in our bones. The sight of them is enough to send people running, nightmares and floods of dread and terror. I say people, because I am not one of them.

My bedroom door slowly creaks open. I turn to see my sister poke her head through the crack. Her eyes widen as she lifts a hand and gives a futile knock on the door. She searches my face and says sheepishly: "May I enter?"

A clear peal of laughter escapes me, the kind that only Lia can get out of me, so rare you may have thought it extinct. I pull her in and sit her on my bed, a simple mattress perched atop an equally simple wooden platform, covered by the uniformed bleach white sheets.

Lia's honey colored hair tumbles away from her face as she tips her head back to study me. Then, she says solemnly: "I wish I looked like you. You're always so beautiful."

I roll my eyes but allow a smile to break on my face. I lean in and tap the tip of her nose.

"You, Miss Dahlia Riverstone?" I ask teasingly.

I make her rise and stand in front of my dressing mirror, the only fancy object in the room, with its elegant curves and carvings all over the frame. I tuck back her soft ringlets behind her ears and spread out her dress. It's a gorgeous number, a hand-me-down that had only been worn once by its previous owner, or so the dealer said.

The creamy pink fabric is adorned with a thin drape of silk, shimmering like gossamer wings and sparkling with its dazzling rainbow hue under the rays of sunlight. It ends just above her knees with a ruffles of stark white butterfly lace.

"You are stunning," I say, pointing at her reflection. "This girl practically shines with an ethereal glow."

Lia giggles and swats my hand away. "Emma!" She crosses her arms and mocks a stern stare. "Mum wants me to kick you out of your room so she can at least have a decent straight-you-up session. So move it! Get out!"

"Ordering me, huh?" I tease, but let Lia push me out.

"Hurry up, Emma! It's almost time for the horn!" My mother says, sitting me down on the stiff, straight-backed chair. She instructs me to close my eyes before twirling, tossing and fidgeting with my braid. A dash of powder flies across my cheeks. Something cool breezes down my face and down the length of my body. In the darkness, I hear Lia gasp. A gentle finger lifted my chin.

"You can open your eyes now," my mother says softly.

My eyes flutter open and freeze immediately. The girl in the mirror is still the same, but she isn't. The deep brown tresses are still in the braid, but it is no longer just so. The ribbon is woven through my hair in an elaborate design, as if a moonbeam has melded into my hair, high-lighting it magically. Transparent crystal flowers sparkles in between the graceful arcs of my hair. A single strand of glass beads is draped down the left side of my face, alongside the braid.

Shimmery blue eye shadow and dark purple eyeliner accents my eyelids, my lashes long, thick and dark. Soft, subtle brushes of rogue dabbed across my cheeks and a shiny pink-tinged lip gloss coats my lips.

My locket, a silver heart-shaped charm dangles atop the neckline of my one shouldered dress and I realize with a start, the alterations on my dress too. No longer pale blue, my dress is now the illusion of moonlight skimming on the surface of a clear, gauzy pond, tinged with blue, and the hint of soft yellow. Beautiful translucent fake gems in strands adorns my waist in an intricate web.

Tiny gems of different shades of blue and silver dots my left shoulder, the sleeveless side, in an elegant pattern that takes my breath away. And the one thing that gives the entire endowment the crucial  finishing touch, is the glitter that had settled everywhere, on my hair, my face, my arms and down my dress.

 A gasp escapes my lips. I turn around and throw my arms around my mother, who smiles but pushes me away.

"Don't want to smudge my newest work piece now, would we?" My mother brushes a loose strand of hair back behind my ear.

"Thanks," I say curtly, the smile slipping from my lips. "It's just for show, anyway. A bunch of stupid rules from them. It'll all be gone in a couple of hours."

"Shhh......" My mother places a finger on my lips in alarm, her brown eyes darting about.

"What?" I knock her hand away, but took care to be gentle. "There couldn't be anyone around to hear." All the same, I lower my voice. "Whatever, I'm telling the truth and everyone knows it. Even them."

I'm referring to the Imperium, of course. I shift my eyes to the beautifully carved clock on the wall. Lia and my mother follow my gaze. 9:50 in the morning.

"Ten minutes," my mother says, looking at me carefully.

"Till the horn of doom and gloom," I say in a flat voice, forcing emotions out of my voice, not wanting to scare Lia. As if she doesn't know.

Just then, she tugs my hand. I meet her gaze, instantly seeing the alarm and fear skimming just beneath her gaze. I give an inaudible sigh. Of course she's scared. Today is her first day to enter the draw.

I lower myself to Lia's eye level. I hesitate, but only for a second, then unclasp my locket, fastening it around her neck. She lifts her gaze in surprise. A hand reaches up and fingers the charm.

"But... this is..." Lia splutters.

"Doesn't matter," I cut in quickly. "I want you to have it. You need it more than I." I nudge the locket. "Keep that safe for me, won't you?" I ask.

Lia nods, her eyes glazes over for a moment. She throws her arms around my neck and I pull her close. 

"Thank you. I'll return it to you after the...the...dr..." She stutters, fear clearly drawn on her face.

I draw back, my hands on her shoulders. "You won't be drawn, Lia. I am sure. trust me," I say, my instincts tingling. My instinct are right most of the time.

Just then, a conch horn blares, invading the entire neighborhood, piercing my ears in a way no outsiders will understand. My eyes squeeze shut and my hands are clapped over my ears, failing to keep out the voices that are invading my head. I'm panting, my head spinning. Vaguely, I hear voices calling my name, trying to pull me back, but the harder I try to grasp onto them, the further I slip.

 I don't just hear the horn. I hear screams, mocking laughter and a feminine voice trilling:" Connor Regulus."

The last thing I remember, is hearing his voice, his familiar voice I had tried but failed to forget, saying over and over again: "Em, I'll see you again. I promise. Remember Em, that I......"

And, like the first time, I'll never know what he was going to say. Darkness closes in, and I blackout.

 ~*~

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