Deception Conception

The sun shined brightly as the birds sang their merry melody of sweet nothings; nothing could go wrong on such a joyous day. The bride looked as lovely as a wicked saint with her snow-white gown and golden crown meant to hold her veil in place. Who would have guessed what would happen next? Who would have thought such a thing possible?

Amalia stood before the altar; her head held high as the priest asked the groom if he took Amalia to be his beloved wife to love and respect. Michael did not have a chance to answer the priest as Valentina rushed forward and screamed, that man is already my husband.

At Valentina's declaration, the sky roared as if in anger; another woman rushed forward and, too, proclaimed to be Michael's lawfully wedded bride. Michael refuted their claims and insisted the priest continue with the sermon. Still, to his misfortune, Amalia would have none of it.

Amalia recognized Valentina as one of society's top elites; the same went for the second female Celestina; all three women had been named the youngest of the one percent. It seemed what Amalia had feared had come true. Michael did not wish to marry her out of love; he was after her money. She had heard how the other heiress had been briefly married, but their marriages had ended in disarray. How could a loveless marriage last?

Amalia tossed her veil to the side, the golden crown sending a reverberating through the ground as it hit the earth. Amalia picked one of the tall candle stands and, with the candle attached, throve it through Michael's abdomen, twisting it inward until it protruded from his back.

The guest screamed; Valentina and Celestina were shocked by the result of their declaration.

As Michael fell to the ground, Amalia asked, "Does anyone else wish to attempt and deceive me?" She pressed her heel into his throat and watched with glee as the light in those deceitful eyes went out.

Her own family had once betrayed her; why would it be different now. Sirens rang as the sky darkened; it seemed someone had the gall to call the cops how pathetic off them. Before the police could even approach Amalia, thunderstruck down, lightning flashed in the sky as Amalia was struck; nothing but a blacken stain remained where she had stood.

More screaming followed as the thunder continued to strike, and then there was utter silence before all was forgotten.

When Amalia opened her eyes, she lay in a field of cherry blossoms; her blood-stained gown was no more. How had she gotten here? Amalia wondered as she tried to stand; her arms no, her wings were sore. Wings Amalia thought, what madness is this? Beautiful monarch wings greeted her when she tried to balance herself; even her tiny butterfly legs were tired, and every part of her ached.

Amalia struggled to get the hang of her wings, but when she managed to get airborne, all she did was crash into one of the many cherry-blossom trees.

"I've never seen anyone like you before," a soft voice whispered as delicate hands lifted her. Amalia looked into the eyes of well, she wasn't quite sure what they were, but the being that held her with such delicateness gave her a warm smile.

"It seems you are not from here," that magnificent being spoke as if contemplating something, "I will help you this once." Amalia had decided to call the being that held her a Deity. The Deity closed its hand around Amalia's small form, golden light emanating from those petal soft hands.

Amalia's eyes grew heavy as the light engulfed her in a cocoon of warmth. For the next eight years, Amalia slept within her dreams; she saw things that perhaps had only been a nightmare or possibly had indeed happened. She could not tell. She dreamed of flying over mountains, flowers, and even the ocean at one point. Then those sweet dreams were overpowered by bloody ones filled with pain and hate.

The heavens had given Amalia a second chance for all she had sacrificed, for all she had given. They had brought her to a world not like her own, a world ruled by immortals and beings of power far beyond one's simple mind. The Mother Goddess passed by when Amalia crashed against the cherry blossom tree. The Mother Goddess had gifted her a small portion of her cultivation, taking pity on Amalia. Thus, for the next eight years, Amalia would sleep and grow, and through her unlocked memories of past lives, she would learn.

A crack appeared on the iridescent cocoon on the eve of Amalia's slumber. Now Amalia was not the only one that lived in the cherry-blossom forest. Other mythical creatures were cultivating within the safety of the cherry blossom grove; so that they may take the form of mortals. Among them was a nine-tailed fox, or at least it would become one someday. For now, he only had eight tails which he had acquired precisely eight years ago; the little fox had gained its eight tailed and so waited with joy to see what would sprout out of the iridescent cocoon.

The fox would travel down the mountain upon his return; he would tell Xiao as he had named the cocoon that slumbered above his burrow all that he had seen and all that he had done.

In her slumber, Amalia knew two things; one, her name was Xiao, or at least that's what the sing-song voice proclaimed. Two, the sing-song voice she had decided to call Song, for that was what the voice reminded her of, was waiting for her to wake up so they could see the world together.

Thus, with a final thrust of her wings, Xiao broke free from her cocoon engulfed in lustrous light. A female stood before Song with eyes that resembled a fiery sunrise and hair as black as a starless and moonless sky. Her skin was darker than he had seen amongst his people. Yet, the sun-kissed skin suited Xiao well; Song thought to himself as Xiao finally laid her eyes upon Song, warmth filled his heart.