June 20, 1837
Morn of my coronation.[size=0.75em][/size]
This entire morn hath been tense for me. With the death of my beloved Uncle, and my royal coronation looming in just a few hours, I fear I shalt perspire through my Gown. The weight of this kingdom shall soon rest upon my not so broad shoulders, and I am worried I may not be able to carry the weight all by myself.
June 18, 1837
After my coronation.
The ceremony was a very strange one I must say. The crown was almost upon my head when I heard a loud boom overhead. Then when I looked up I saw the most amazing show of color in all my 18 years of existence. It was a circular burst of rainbow color that extended outward over the sky, tinting everything in a pinkish hue. The aftershock of the explosion was incredible, more powerful the recoil on a thousand cannons. I was blasted back several feet, forcing myself to hold on to a column to avoid being whisked away. I felt a strange tingly feeling in me, I cannot explain it. The noise after the boom was that of a million tinkling bells. Then I saw small figure trailing under the disk of light, it was too small to distinguish, but a vibrant rainbow trail streamed behind it, and in seconds, it just vanished. Poof. Gone. When I looked around, everyone was staring up at it. It took several minutes to get themselves together and finish the coronation.
June 19, 1837
Dearest Journal,
I am feeling under the weather this morn. I do not know what illness hath been bestowed upon me, but, I think it might be linked somehow to the explosion I saw in yesterday during my coronation ceremony. I felt a strange essence wash over me. Though I do not know what. I shalt travel to my library on the morrow, to see if I can find anything on the subject.
June 20,1837
I have searched the royal library on such strange occurrences and cannot find a single shred of informative knowledge on the subject. I shall have to access the castle’s royal archives. I am certain I will find what I am looking for.
June 21, 1837
I believe I have found what I seek. Enigmatic Phenomena: a reference guide. It was under E! The book looked somehow out of place amongst the others. It seemed much older and ancient than all of the ones beside it. I spent several hours Flipping carefully through the thick book, afraid I might rip the delicate pages were I to turn them faster. Then I found a page that I had been looking for. It showed the colorful disk I had seen before in black and white.
The Spectrum Explosion.
There was apparently little known about the strange explosion, other than it happened several hundred years ago, for explorers discovered a cave filled with the drawings of a strange circular disc in the sky.
This one was so powerful; it left a large mark on the seascape, in what are now called the waters of no return. A triangular area in the ocean where boats and ships disappear often. I knew of no such thing. Another one was experienced fifty years ago, over France, though not as powerful, Not much is known of it. the French experienced strange occurrences afterwards. They soon were in agreement to wipe any and all evidence of the occurrence from their history. Reports that were recovered were of people having a tingling feeling wash over their bodies, and then weird symptoms after
I closed my journal after reading that line in the book. I dropped my quill and took a deep breath.
“Relax yourself Victoria, tis’ just a book after all.”
I bent down and picked up my quill, closed my ink vial and stared at the weathered book in my small palms. Carefully I slipped the quill inside, marking the page and closing the book. Then I put it back in its place and stood up. Taking another deep breath I hurried back to my chambers.
My dreams were strange that night.
Large rectangular towers one identical to the other. They gleamed in the sunlight, taller than any castle tower I had ever been in. They stood in the midst of some strange civilization. The carrages seemed to be made of colored metal animals with doors on them. they coasted freely without horses on black wheels engraved with silver. The strange rectangle like structures were everywhere, All metallic and silvery. People walked about in strange and revealing attire. Women flaunted their curves shamelessly and men openly stared. What was this? What kind of world could this be?
Then I heard a deafening roar unlike any I’ve heard before.
A large metal bird with no animalistic features sped through the sky, a low and distinctly unbird-like sound emanating from it . It seemed to glide, glass windows all down the side. It crashed itself beak first into the large metallic tower, black smoke and fiery orange flame erupting from the groaning structure. I heard screams all around. Familiar words of fear and worry were being shouted in horror.
My eyes wouldn’t move. I just sat there and watched as a second metal bird crashed into the other tower.
I awoke in a cold sweat, my heart pounding away in my chest. I looked around and fumbled for a candle. Lighting it, I looked round for my journal. I needed to write this down. Dipping my new quill into the depths of the ink, I took out my journal and began to write.
June 27, 1837
Dearest Journal,
The strange dreams still continue. I do not understand why, maybe this is the effect of the Spectrum Explosion. Though I do notice a pattern. My dreams all have that same metallic feel to it, as if this may be some kind of future thing. Though they make no sense, I have opted not to tell anyone of this. I fear they may worry. With my still learning the dynamics of being a queen, I do not wish to bestow this worry upon their heads.
I put down my quill and rub my eyes. Then I glance around and scratch my thigh in an unladylike manor. Setting down my journal, I head over to the easel in the far right corner of my bedchamber. I haven't painted in a while. I set up my palette and begin. I’m not exactly sure what it is, for my mind begins to wander.
“Equus….”
What? What was-
“We found thou…”
“We found thou...”
I blink. What was I doing? My mind drew a blank.
I blinked again and looked up. I must have been painting.
I can’t make out the painting. It.. What?
The painting is of a golden painting palette crisscrossed from behind by two gray paintbrushes.
The golden light of the setting sun illuminates the tan background-
“Wait.”
I look out the window beside me to see the sun in fact setting on the horizon.
How long had I been painting? And how come I didn’t remember?
The gap in my memory worried me greatly. I felt as if this was more serious than I wanted to let on.
I calmed myself down first, then I slipped on my nightgown and climbed into bed, though it felt as if I'd only just gotten up.
My dreams were filled with paint and caramel mist.
July 7, 1837
Sorry, it has been a while since my last entry, but I have been neglecting my duties as the queen, and that was most unbecoming. I am hoping that I can relax and clear my mind of all my troubles. I wish to paint, but I fear I may lose myself. The thought scares me to great lengths. My dreams have died down a bit, and for that I am grateful. But now my dreams are filled with that wretched painter’s pallet and the strange misty caramel background I painted. But alas, painting is the only way to relieve my stress.
I put down my quill and glanced warily at the easel. On the far side of my bedchambers. A fresh white canvas sits neatly on it, and there, off to the side, mocking me with its presence, sits the painting I painted not too many moons ago. Putting the cap back onto my inkwell, I stand up and immediately feel a pressure on my back, as if I’m unbalanced. I look down at my heels, and raise them up off the ground, feeling the pressure relax. I think nothing of it and walk over to the easel. The clean canvas beckons me with a sea of cloudy colorless eternity “Paint me,” it asks.
I stare at the blank space reluctantly for what feels like an eternity. Then I pick up my pallet, fill it with color, and begin.
I feel it. A thin cloud of ecru mist began to creep into my mind. I try to fight it, as I feel myself slipping from reality. It seeps into my thoughts, tainting my mind, killing my self-control.
“Equus…”
The voice it as soft as the light tinkling of silver bells.
“She seeks thou…”
“Painter of royalty…”
The canvas in front of me fades in and out of my vision.
“Glass of silver, dawn of next morn…”
I blink.
Once, twice. Mist over my mind recedes. And I feel my senses returning.
What was I doing? I look up at the beautiful portrait-
“Stars above! Not again!”
I look up at the portrait of a… what?
On the canvas is a beautifully depicted portrait of a mare. Her features are cartoonish but, realistic. Her coat is a caramel tan, and her eyes are a murky walnut brown. They sparkle ever so slightly. Her hair is a wavy chocolate brown, falling just past her shoulders. From behind her neatly brushed bangs, a long spiraled horn protrudes, in similar coloration to her coat. She wears royal regalia on her neck, hooves and head. Silver horseshoes stopping a fourth of the way up her legs shine brilliantly. On her neck is a silver bib, not an eating one, but a royal one, for dress. Atop her head behind the horn is a small tiara, inlaid with midnight blue gems. And upon her flank-
I freeze. upon her flank is a golden painting palette crisscrossed from behind by two gray paintbrushes. I back up slowly from the painting and quickly run out to my balcony for fresh air. Then I notice, yes, it is nighttime. I sigh.
-
My sleep is dreamless.
When I wake up, everything is normal. I feel somehow refreshed for the first time in many moons. I go to write in my journal, to find several entries missing. I look over to my painter’s easel, to find both paintings gone.
“What?” I search the entire room, to find nothing. When my hands come up empty, I realize I have no idea what I was looking for. My vision becomes clouded as black seeps in from all sides. And then...nothing.
The balcony door opens, swung inwards by a light blue aura. A tall white equine steps in, coat thick curtains of molten red locks framing her narrow snout, eyes an crisp blue sea of concern. Atop her head is an crown of golden laurels. She spreads her powerful wings, several ruffled feathers fluttering to the ground. She flexes them, slightly worn out from the long journey from the astral plane. Dainty hooves click softly on the tile. The beautiful mare surveys her surroundings, eyes falling onto the small form of Elizabeth.
Slowly approaching the girl, she lets out a weary sigh at the furry brown ears peaking through her messy hair. the ears disappear with a wave of her hoof. Bending drown, she nuzzles the girl before touching the top of her horn to Elizabeth's forehead.
“Forgive me and my carelessness, Queen Elizabeth.”
With a flash of blue light, everything in the past few weeks was erased and replaced with different memories. The shimmering white goddess picked the girl up in a gentle glow of magic, and put her to bed. Then with a flick of green magic, rearranged the room. Looking around, she nodded and in a flash, was gone.
