I know that I have several unfinished fics that I should probably pay more attention to, but it was the day after midterms and I couldn't help myself. The fact that I turn sixteen in a few more days (February 2!) adds onto the fact. Anyway, things I should probably address. The prologue may differ slightly from the summary simply because the protagonist and the following main characters have not quite been introduced yet. That would have to wait for the first chapter. This introduction takes about fifty years before the actual story. Standard disclaimers apply.

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Title: Ethereal Beauty

Author: Amethyst-Heart

Rating: As of Yet Unrated (PG-13?)

Prologue:

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She could feel the adrenaline rush to her blood as she allowed her gaze to wander over the sky's obsidian expanse. Murky grey clouds merged with the silver light of the stars, shadows dancing in every corner with the screeching wind. A sanguine moon settled in the midst of the night, streaks of the infringing light creeping through her bedroom window. She could hear the owls cry, perched on the susceptible branches in the middle of winter where almost anything could happen. It was not her first time alone in the dreary building, yet still, her body just couldn't seem to get used to it.

Brushing a sleek finger over her perspiring brow, she drew in a deep breath, her hands reaching for a large bag sitting on the side of a mahogany desk. She pulled out a flutter of velvet drapery in hopes of concealing the intimidating view and then hastened out of the room. Perhaps some warm milk would freshen her up.

Her legs carried her down three flights of marble stairs, eyes observing the tower of a house she now called home. What on earth had possessed her to live in such a place? Cobwebs could be seen ornately decorated in all the right places, dust finding a new home on the antique golden banister. She had known that the building was ancient, but this was ridiculous! Ignoring it all, she continued walking, yet another sigh escaping her lips.

A monotonous tone sent her jumping almost three feet in the air as soon as she had entered the kitchen. Trying to still her beating heart, her hand clutched the offending object: a black telephone. "H-hello?" her voice stuttered, her breathing beyond shallow. No response. Shaking her head, she threw the phone into the bag and made her way to the kitchen. Her body mechanically shivered, chills sent down her spine. She had no idea what was going on, but she could feel something ominous about to happen. She laughed at the thought. Since when did Yumeno Yumemi, one of the world's most strict realists, believe in premeditated visions?

She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she entered the dark room. Lying in the center of the tiled floors was a woman, her eyes closed in a reclining position, lips pursed together, frosty and red. A mass of golden hair gracefully fell to her knees, her body curled against the cool surface of the ground. Yumemi eyed her meticulously, glancing over her silk embroidered gown. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought the girl to be some princess out of a hackneyed fairytale! Blinking, she made her way to the fallen figure, her hand reaching out to the weary newcomer. Where in the world had she come from and why was she in her kitchen? Deciding that there would be time for questions later, she picked up the sleeping teenager and carried her to one of the closer bedchambers. Placing her on the soft white mattress, she sat down in the armchair and closed her eyes. She couldn't understand it! What was going on, and why did this stranger look as if she was from regency England?

Thunder bellowed in the sky, the bloody shriek causing the brunette to leap in the air. Yumemi could see the clouds glowering overhead, flashes of lightning penetrating against the glass of the window. Another cold chill wafted through the room and she found herself reaching over for the curtains to block out the horrendous weather outdoors. She turned to face the angelic beauty slumbering soundly in the grand bed, a small smile settling upon her lips. Capriciously, her fingers reached for the nearby bag, removing an array of containers. Within seconds, she was seated at her easel, her hands slowly forging a goddess on canvas: pretty, blue-eyed, and with hair spun of gold. She laughed at herself as she finished the masterpiece. Somehow, the oddity in her life brought about the greatest inspiration. Satisfied, she stole a glance at her guest. In her place, however, she found a gilded locket, crystalline and in the shape of a star. Baffled, she took a look around her.

Behind her, the curtains flitted, an illuminating light finding its way into the cold, dark room. The portrait scintillated wildly as a vague melody drifted through the whole of the building.

Yumemi couldn't figure it out. Somehow, the girl had vanished into thin air.

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Sorry for keeping this so short, but it was getting late and I didn't want it to drag on forever. It's simply here to set the scene, and this prologue will actually play an immense role in the story, so it was most definitely significant. In case anyone was wondering, Yumemi Yumeno is actually the name of that artist from Sailor Moon, the first season. At least that's what I think it is (if not, tell me ;). So, what do you think? Anything in my writing I should work on? Was the prologue too confusing? Anything that didn't make any sense whatsoever? Feedback is well appreciated, flames are not.

--Amethyst-Heart, 1/29/05