Have you ever noticed, that the more power someone has, the more prejudice they become against those that they used to be like?
What is it that is so shameful about being true to your roots when you've become successful in life?
Is it that they have become so desperate for approval from society, that they assume by ignoring their past, they are erasing themselves from it?
Do they believe that society would lose their respect or awe of them by being reminded of where they came from? Indeed, perhaps that is the truth, for I have seen it time and time again.
You humans never change...Well, you do, but by the time that occurs, it's too late...always too late.
And yet again, history repeats itself.
I pray for you, that you will finally learn from past mistakes, and save your selves from your demise, instead of running towards it.
Sadly, I hold very little hope.

- Melody
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~Melody~

A thousand whispers hurtled and bounced through the air like rogue radio waves, and Melody's dark eyes flashed open.
She knew what the whispers meant; it was her kind's way of communicating over long distances. To all but the one who was being summoned, it would sound akin to a symphony of whispers, just out of the range of hearing what they were saying, or the sound of leaves rustling softly to the ground.
Just then, a soft voice filtered through the whispers, and made its way to her ears.
It was a summons, politely requesting her presence at the gathering of elders, which was held once every moon cycle.
Melody knew very well that she had no obligation to make an appearance.
However, it was the proper thing to do, no matter your importance, and social standing...or lack thereof.
She thought back to the boy, Aiden.
Melody had not wished to carry out the onerous task of taking his mother's life. The boy's mother had been strong, her very soul fighting against the magic that Melody had used to create the accident.
Neverless, she had passed on in the end, for the elders had commanded it, and what they commanded, so it came to pass.
Melody herself had heavy influence on the elder's decisions, but when a synonymous vote was cast, she was helpless to the outcome of their final decisions.
Aiden's mother had been one of the unlucky humans to get pulled into an unfortunate circumstance, and as a final decision from the council of elders, her life had been agreed upon to be inconsequential, but dangerous if she were to be allowed to live.
Melody herself was unaware as to why, because she preferred to stay neutral.
However, when the vote was cast, she had offered to be the one to take the woman's life, as quickly, and as painlessly as possible.
The elders had instantly agreed, knowing if Melody were to carry out the act, she would leave no room for error.
She understood herself, all too well, that some others took much joy in their assignments, dragging them out, while she tended to avoid assignments like the plague.
At first, many, many years ago, Melody had been adversed to the things that some of her people did.
However, after a period of time, as time does for all things, those feelings aged and hardened, and she had become numbed and accustomed to their ways.
A slight twinge of melancholy made itself known to her, and she thought back to the earlier years, when her people had been less corrupt.
They would argue it to be different, of course, but beneath her cold, frozen exterior, Melody knew that what they did was wrong.
Melody's people had once been upholders of justice.
They had gone by the name, Karma. One name of many, certainly, but a more common one for sure.
Humans knew the name, but were unaware of its significance.
Another soft summoning call jolted Melody out of her thoughts, and her eyes fluttered shut momentarily, before she reluctantly stood up.
A flickering of lights, accompanied by a soft sigh, and she melted into the shadows, the way she traveled when she wanted to get around quickly.
When she reappeared, streams of bright sunlight illuminated the white and golden room she now stood in.
The elder's hall.
It was an enormous room, large golden Greek style pillars lining both walls, and the amber tinted floor joining smoothly at the corners with the pristine white walls.
At one end, raised just slightly off the ground, sat a row of throne-like chairs, where the elders, and others of importance sat.
Others of lesser importance stood on the floor by the thrones.
Melody's raven-black hair and dress, and midnight blue eyes, as an understatement, stood out like a sore thumb.
Immediately, all eyes that occupied the room were drawn to her, and she could see why, as always.
Most of the others in the room had piercing bright blue eyes, with light blonde hair.
Their garments were white gowns, embroidered with intricate golden designs, or if the person was male, a white tunic.
She was a sharp contrast to almost everything in the room.
Walking towards them, Melody used the shadows to hasten her steps.
"You requested my presence?" she questioned, her soft voice ringing out in the quiet hall.
The individuals who sat on large, white, golden thrones, glanced up from their conversations with each other, and instantly sobered more than they had been, if that was even possible.
"Greetings, Meellodia," a male with white hair and pale blue eyes inclined his head towards her with a slight smile on his face.
"Melody." she objected.
The man raised a brow at her response.
"I prefer Melody. You know this, King Wrotesha." she said evenly.
"I do not understand your preference for the human translation of your name," the woman beside the man said.
Melody inclined her shoulders slightly with a delicate shrug. "I know not why I choose to execute many of my actions, Lady Naomi," she replied. "this is just another variant upon that fact."
Wrotesha chuckled, finding her answer humorous.
"We must talk," he announced. "I bear grave, and rather sudden news that must be taken care of with much haste."
Dozens of pairs of bright blue eyes from around the room watched the elder closely as he turned to Melody.
"Melody, we cannot be interrupted when we begin our discussion. Might it be too much of a hassle to use your shadows to bring us to the Round Table?"
"Is it too much of a hassle yourself, My lord?" Melody asked, though by the look on her face it was clear to all that she knew the answer.
The Round Table was the stuff of legends, a quite spacious stone hall, with a large stone table in the middle of said room, called the Round Table.
It held many magical properties, one of which was the ability to see the future.
All one had to do was touch the table, and it would show that individual flashes of his or her future.
If many were to touch the table at the same time, it would display the future of an entire species.
This was an extremely dangerous thing to possess, so this room was guarded.
Special individuals were taken to guard this room, and these individuals were known as the Alchemists.
Now, the Alchemists were smart, and they knew that sooner or later a foe would arrive that would be too much for them to handle.
Especially seeing as bloody and violent civil wars had broken out between the shadow users, and the clean ones.
This disturbed the Alchemists greatly, as they had been trained and raised in the belief that both shadow users and non shadows users were meant to live in harmony.
But they were not, and now, both sides had set their sights on the Round Table; anything to get the upper hand on the other.
So the Alchemists created a safeguard.
They warded and built up the walls around the room so strongly, only those that had the ability to travel with shadows could get inside.
Of course, you had to use the shadow ability to be able to do this, and the non shadow users were much against this.
This bode well for the dark ones, but when they traveled inside, it was discovered that the Alchemists had thought further than previously assumed.
The Round Table could only be activated by one who had not used the shadow ability.
The realization dawned on all, that there had to be peace between all the people, both clean and dark, for the Round Table to be used.
This was not an option at the time, so the Round Table was forgotten, lost in time.
For many years, until now...
The woman that stood by Wrotesha scowled, but kept her mouth shut. She was aware that it was unwise to anger Meellodia, or, Melody, as she preferred to be called.
"Calm your fury, I jest." Melody said, directing the answer at the woman.
A smirk made its way across Melody's lips, adding a mischievous twinkle to her eyes, before it was gone, no traces of a smile on her face.
The small smile had been too fast, and none had caught sight of it, except for one.
Another male that stood near the back, with light blonde hair and clear, sky-blue eyes, leaned against a golden pillar, watching the proceedings with a fond smile on his face.
Melody's brother.
He caught Melody's eyes momentarily, and he shook his head at her in mock disapproval.
Melody's mouth twitched with the urge to smile, but she reigned it in.
However that one, the others caught, and they followed Melody's line of sight to see why she had almost smiled.
The day Meellodia, as secretive as she was powerful smiled, was a rare one indeed.
By the time they saw whom she had been smiling at, all traces of mirth were gone from the boy's face, and his stone cold mask was back in place as he looked innocently back at everyone.
Wrotesha sighed at the two sibling's antics.
He was aware that his son and daughter were rather mischievous and got into much trouble when left to their own devices, and he could count the amount of times they'd saved each other's lives on both his fingers and his toes.
Michael, the boy's name, was a Parallel, someone born with the rare and coveted ability to travel with light.
With Wrotesha's people, everyone was born with blue eyes and platinum blonde hair.
However, if they chose to use the shadow ability, their hair would turn as black as night, as well as their eyes, or a dark midnight blue colour, if they were lucky.
When this happened, they were considered unclean, and were not permitted to enter the elder's hall, where blonde and blue eyes were seen as the norm and dark colours were looked down upon.
Michael, instead of the normal ability of traveling with shadows, or manipulating them to do his will, commanded sunlight, while shadows weakened him.
Meellodia and Michael had an explosive sibling relationship, each other's powers engaged in an eternal fight for the upperhand.
Of course, it was all a game to them, for they would never actually hurt each other.
Though it seemed doubtful they ever could. Even though their powers were so different, because of their sibling status, it seemed that when it came down to it their powers were so in sync you would not be able to tell that there was a difference between them.
They worked flawlessly together.
Melody inclined her head in agreement.
"I'll take you to the Round Table, on one condition," she informed Wrotesha.
He leaned forward.
"Which is?"
Melody's eyes twinkled. "That I am permitted to sit in on your discussion," she replied.
Lady Naomi jumped to her feet, her face flushing in anger. "My lord, this is an outrage," she protested angrily.
"The Round Table is not meant for any individuals other than the clean ones. Meellodia, or whatever childish human name it is that she has taken, is dark, unclean, and everything that is wrong with our society. You cannot be considering allowing her passage!"
Elder Wrotesha shifted in his seat as his wife insulted his daughter.
He glanced at Melody, who's eyes flared brightly at her stepmother as her temper heated.
He wanted to defend Melody, but he knew that Melody was extremely independent, and would like to defend herself.
Of course, if her opposition became too harsh, he would step in, but for now...
Naomi seemed to shrink in on herself as Melody moved forward in slow, measured steps.
The hall grew silent; everyone knew of Meellodia's fiery temper, spurred on by her dark abilities...and now, one of their own had insulted her.
Then, the dark light in Melody's eyes dimmed and receded, and the air felt once again light and breathable.
"I was not bargaining for passage," she said mildly. "I was in fact, stating the reality of your situation, which is that if you wish to use the ancient room that holds the Round Table, you must allow me to partake in your discussion."
Naomi seemed to forget her place once again as she slammed her hand on the throne-like chair she was situated upon.
"We shall never allow the likes of you in with us," she snarled. "You are wrong and dark, an unclean monster, and if you think for one second-" she cut herself off as she cried out when the sunlight that was streaming through the room, concentrated into a damaging beam, and left a jagged burnt mark on her hand.
The hall echoed with quiet gasps as the lords and ladies watching were taken aback by the happenings.
Michael was now standing beside Melody, completely ready to fight for his sister's honor.
Gone was the lighthearted smiling boy, as glimmers of sunbeams danced about on his hands which had clenched in anger.
Melody sighed inwardly, but felt warm to know her brother was so protective.
She wanted to work these things out herself, and she had made it clear to all that tried to help her, but Michael was the exception.
While most got the message immediately that she wished to take care of herself, Michael flat out stated that he didn't give a damn what she thought.
He was her older brother, and regardless of her wishes, he would defend her and fight her battles with her.
"How dare you speak to my sister in this manner," he seethed. "If you were not who you were, you would be hanged for such insolence against royalty. She is your princess, your superior, and you will treat her as such, Surra!"
Wrotesha stood up at that. "Michael!"
The people gasped in shock that Michael had the audacity to call their queen that.
To the humans, Surra would mean nothing, but in their society, it was essentially calling someone out on marrying into a bloodline.
For Michael to call Naomi that, he was reminding her that her blood meant nothing, and that were it not for the fact that she had married Wrotesha, she would be a commoner, or a peasant.
Naomi covered her mouth with her jeweled hand as her face went dark pink in humiliation.
'A royal flush,' Melody thought to herself in amusement as she remembered the card game that humans sometimes played.
Then she looked over at the others in the room who had scandalized looks on their faces, and she rolled her eyes, a motion she had seen many humans do when they were aggravated or annoyed at something.
She strongly disliked drama, and although she got a bit of wicked joy at her brother insulting their stepmother, she knew that unless she stopped it, it would only escalate.
Stepping forward silently, she put a hand on her brother's and immediately his powers faded, him not wanting to burn her.
'Calm down, brother," she whispered into his head, 'her words do nothing to damage my honor any more than I have damaged it myself.'
'You're being utterly ridiculous,' Michael sent back, irritation lining his tone, though not directed at her. 'Just because you chose to use your gift, it does not mean that your honor is broken.'
Melody sent him a warm feeling in his head, the thought equivalent of a hug.
'I know what I'm doing, let me handle this.'
Michael stepped back slightly, his way of telling her he was acquiescing to her request, albeit extremely reluctantly.
Wrotesha moved back to sit on his throne, seeing that his daughter had calmed her brother...really, he had to speak with him about addressing their queen in such a matter, well, publicly that is.
Naomi may have been his wife, but it had been strictly a strategic union, borne of war and illness.
At the time, one of the larger shadow regions had declared war on the Light Capitol, and Naomi had been the undarkened daughter of the shadow region's leader, Ezra.
Ezra had agreed to sign a peace treaty if King Wrotesha were to marry Naomi, Ezra's daughter.
Wrotesha had agreed, partly because he wanted to avoid a war, but mostly because he wanted his children, Meellodia and Michael, safe and not battle hardened.
Melody stepped forward once more. "We needn't fight about this, father," she told Wrotesha, addressing him more informally.
"All I want is to know a bit more about the coming events. A strong wind from the north whispers to me, and she tells me that danger is fast approaching, something we haven't dealt with in many millennia. It will not do for me to be kept in the dark about these matters."
Melody pinned a steely gaze upon Naomi, who seemed about to speak again, then turned away from Naomi and back to her father.
"What is your answer, my lord?"
The hall was silent.