The Story of Sarelle: The Immortal Years {INCOMPLETE}

Prologue

Sarelle is back!! xD Yay! I'm so excited! There is a lot of drama in this one! I can't wait to read what you guys have to say about it! I'm going to let you read the prologue now so.... Enjoy! (: - LongLiveMusic17

P.s. 7 votes for chapter one! (:

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A supernova is a thing of beauty. A cataclysmic event that changes everything. From such violence so many things can be reborn, and so many others thrown on the wayside. The simple logistics of it are enough to make a mind rethink the very workings of the universe. It fuels its own destruction, it's own change of form. The energy it exudes is just a fraction of what it built within, what will eventual turn it to universal dust.

A supernova is a beautiful thing, but like all beautiful things it comes with great consequence and the knowledge that once it has happened, nothing will ever exist the way it once had.

I knew this for fact...

13th June 2047

One hundred and Thirty-seven years since this place became what it is now—a place for flowers, sunshine, and a vampire's regrets. So many visits, so many moments of planting flowers, pretty purple flowers. And yet my human feet only touched upon this ground ninety-five years ago. My little human feet, led by a dead man's hand to stand in this pool of sunshine and natural wonder that my own rage had created fifty two years before.

A twisted story to say the least, but how else could it ever have been? Twists were what I was made of, twisted emotions, twisted morals, distorted past, and a future too bent out of shape to predict. Funny how immortality can change so much and yet so little at the same time.

I opened my palm, ignoring how my skin glittered and focussing purely on the petite seed at the centre of my hand. Knautia arvensis, one pretty little flower to signify another passing year since I made this place of reverence, this place for my parents' souls to rest—the souls I'd extinguished when I was first changed. The firsts of too many.

I bent in front of the large oak, poking my finger in the soil to create a shallow place to lay the seed to rest, just as I had dug my own parents' graves with my hands. This flower would grow just as all the others had. It would grow and bloom and spread its offspring around it to make this place even more beautiful than it was before. At least that was a positive.

I filled the hole in, and as I crouched there I brought my locket to my lips and kissed the two delicate rings that dangled from the chain.

"I'll never forget," I murmured before rising from the partial shade.

This was tradition, a constant that kept my life from becoming one endless passing of time. It marked my aging and in turn it formed a year by year memory book in my mind. The beginning years were full to the brim of discoveries, struggles, angst, but then everything changed, to some degree. It all started to fall into place when I found him.

My phone buzzed at my side so I slid it from my jeans pocket, smiling at the name before accepting the call.

"Aslo, I was wondering when you would call."

"Am I that predictable, Kvetina?" he chuckled down the phone, his native tongue rolling around his pet name for me.

"No, not predictable, although 118 years together does give a girl somewhat of an insight." There was a pause as I ran my hand across the cross one last time. "I miss you, Aslo." The longing was clear in my voice, even I knew that, but he was just another person close to me that I'd lost, if only temporarily.