#c;lark

Conor couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched a figure emerging from the fog along the shoreline. She took a half step back, watching as they stopped at the edge where the water met the sand. They didn’t say anything. They just stood there. As Conor’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized the person was a man. He was tall and lanky with short hair that hung down a little to frame his face. She tilted her head to the side, but didn’t recognize him as one of the survivors or the castaways. Conor regretted not having a weapon with her now. 

She considered running, except that she was mesmerized by the man who stood completely still. She wanted to call out to him and ask if he needed help, but his disturbing stillness kept her from saying anything or even moving an inch. Conor let out a small sigh of relieve as someone came up beside her. “Do you see him too?” she breathed, knowing all too well that the island was known for playing tricks on people. Ghosts, voices, mysterious beasts. The island had it all. 

              It's coronation day, and a very pregnant Olive               is watching the future king of Glacies make his way               to the center of the town square. He's going to make                a great king-----that much is for sure.

              So today was the day---Wren was going to be a king.               Abel was filled with a mixture of pride and fear, standing               stiffly beside his mother and father as he watched the               crowds begin to cheer. What a task, ruling an entire               kingdom, and to do so alone, without a queen?  The kid               really had his work cut out for him.                Abel and Valeria might not be madly in love, but his wife               was an incredible ruler, smart, stubborn, and full of ideas               to better Arcadia. He wouldn't be able to be king without her.

               Coronation day---why the hell did it call for such stuffy outfits?                Lark kept shifting his weight, fingers pulling savagely at the                 itchy collar around his neck. A crown, one with the same jewels                 as his mother's and brother's, was perched on his head, glittering                brightly in the last of the sunlight.                As his brother's carriage neared the square, he let out a low sigh                in relief. He couldn't wait to get undressed and start stuffing his                face---because everyone knew that the best thing about the kingdom's                parties were the feasts.                Turning for a moment to face his mother, he'd caught the eye of                two village girls, one a pretty redhead and the other a blonde. The                redhead gave the prince a wink, and the blonde offered a shy smile.                The boy found himself blushing; after Zoe, he hadn't thought about                anyone else. It was nice to be noticed.

"Rosie? Did you break the microwave?"                    Lark's cheeks were covered in smoke,                    cheeks dirty from what looked like ash.                    All he'd done was press the start button                    too heat up some left over pizza and----                                      BAM!