Novels2Search
Strings of Fate
0. A dream.

0. A dream.

In the middle of the unlit room, was a table, a gorgeous table made of the finest materials, it seemed even master craftsmen would take decades to detail the patterns.

To the sides, massive bookshelves, lined the wall, holding countless books, each resonating an air of raw knowledge.

On the table, a ruby wineglass, a bottle of luxurious champagne wine.

The bottle alone, made out of crystal glass, could feed an average family for three lifetimes, let alone with the hundred years of refined luxury inside.

All alone in the room was a lady, sitting at the table, someone who even made the surroundings look humble.

Illuminated by the moonlight shining through the windows, she was breathtakingly beautiful, wearing a Victorian-style dress that not even the most talented tailor could make.

A figure of immense authority and grace, sitting at the table, absentmindedly staring at the floor while curling her hair with her right hand.

As she stopped toying with her silky turquoise hair, a small portion, the lower right corner would not straighten back to normal, as she had always curled that part of her hair.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Her slender hands was quivering, as she reached into a drawer in her desk, pulling out a single pill.

The pill was bleach white, small as a sunflower seed, but something was frightening about it.

Placing the pill into her wineglass, it sat there, like a lion staring at his prey.

The lady poured some crimson wine into her glass, swirling the contents as the pill dissolved in the liquid.

Getting up from her seat, she walked to the window, staring out at the city beneath.

With the moonlight shining on her face, she was almost ethereal with her green eyes. Her beauty, and her youth was something undreamed of.

She barely looked even 20 years of age.

As she stared at something beyond, a single tear, like a diamond, rolled down her cheeks.

With barely a whimper, her mouth opened for one last sentence.

“Maybe.. Maybe we will meet again.”

With that faintest of whispers, she brought her drink to her rose lips.

----------------------------------

Was it descriptive enough?

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter