Golden

Chapter Two

Picture on the side is Lysandra's Armour, but she does NOT have a bow and arrow... also the girl wearing the armour is NOT what Lysandra looks like :)

Chapter Two

 

            The inhabitants of Valsea do not sleep.

            Instead, we roam through the fields in wait of a task to carry out or a person to speak with. The Unborns mostly speak amongst each other and to their guiding Agents while I mainly spend my time walking along the shore.

            Yet, it is so unbearably lonely. I have counted the limitless stars that envelope this flat world and the many galaxies that edge around, but I have only done so without company. The Agents are constantly managing the Unborns and the Unborns themselves are too secluded to speak with anyone other than each other or an Agent.

            I have no one but myself, and because of this, I am also always training. I easily grow bored by walking along the shore, and so I head to the training room.

            The room is placed in Penella’s Hall. It is a substantially large room – fit for thousands of soldiers to train in at once. It is bare, resembling a stone cell with rock flooring and resilient, indestructible vines that hang alongside the wall across from where I stand. A sturdy bar stretches from one wall to the other in the center of the room, and the wall to my right is pitted – perfect for climbing.

            A long mirror that stretches from the floor to the ceiling rests directly in front of me. I touch my hip-length strands of dark brown hair, once again unsure whether to cut it or not. I have always loved my long, straight hair; however it is always a nuisance during battle. My opponents always pull on it to distract me, and more than half of the time; it works. The only issue is that in Valsea, nothing grows; if I cut my hair, it will never grow back. I also have nothing to cut it with, and I would prefer not to use a rock.

            My eyes stare back at me, lit brightly by the incredibly light, golden rim that lines around the pupils. The gold darkens as it reaches towards the outer edges, illuminated by the more brilliant specks that scatter throughout. Lined with thick lashes that unfortunately grow no longer, my eyes are most definitely the best feature I have, followed by a small nose, slightly thick lips and a heart-shaped facial structure that wraps it all together.

            I move my gaze to my armour, remembering the surprise I felt when I first saw myself in such garments.

            I had only just been transported to Valsea, where I awoke to find myself lying on the shore. There was no Agent to retrieve me from the waters because they were not to guide me to another world; I was to stay here.

            From the very beginning of my arrival to now – I wear the same outfit and armour. Underneath, I sport a white, lightly form-fitting dress that hangs to my knees. Covering it is a beautiful, shining, dark gold metal that thinly covers my stomach and halfway across my chest. The metal itself is intricately designed, covering only the areas on my body that need be and exposing the white dress in the areas that are not covered. I wear gloves that are a soft white with gold metal rings at the knuckles as the fabric covers up to my elbow. Over top of the soft material are gauntlets that start from the wrists and end at the elbows. Protecting my shins are greaves that travel down from my knees and stop short of my ankles. The boots I sport have no heel, and the bottoms are lined in a soft material that quiets my movements to a completely inaudible sound.

            The entire outfit is beautiful and unusually comfortable. The armour itself – despite the thinness of its gold metal – is virtually indestructible. I have had swords thrust towards my stomach, only for it to be deflected off as though the swords were made of straw.