This is OG.

The moon looms grey amongst the clouds as I walk down the gravelly footpath. It's the night of the grand Lunae Lucem in Paradiso coronation ball to be held and everyone is excited. This last occurred one hundred years ago when the last ruler over the Alomheim was chosen but was murdered brutely 1 month ago.

My sea green dress falls loosely around my ankles, around my black high heels, the dress connected around my neck with a crested moon white clip. I pull on my pair of dark purple opera gloves over my greyish-purple skin. The sound of Dantinish fills my pointy ears the closer I reach the entrance of Alomheim City. Everyone I pass is wearing something fancy, excited for the coronation ball we've all been waiting for. I pass dome terracotta houses as I walk down the streets, my black high heels tapping against the stone paths.

The large dark castle looms threateningly over me on its lone cliff. The bridge has been blocked by guards have been placed to stop the rush of Sol Dantium's from pushing their way through to the castle. The castle was designed six thousand years ago, a hundred years after our species emerged. It's made out of stone and the towers tiled dome roofs have been painted red. Large windows sit in each tower. A large archway connects the bridge to the inside of the dark castle.

After some time the guards give way and the whole of Alomheim's people rush in as fast as they can, pushing and shoving people out of their way. I walk in near the end of the cue and take a stand near the back of the castle. Everyone falls silent as the new ruler, Lezabel. Her dark dress matches her light greyish-purple skin. A silver headband is tucked underneath the hair. It has two swirly column like things that connect to a diamond in the middle. She stands above us all, her black hair tied in a tight bun.

A young warrior walks onto the wooden stage and stands beside Lezabel. He pulls out his sword and says in Dantinish, "If I may have your hand m'lady." Lezabel draws her hand out to the young man and lets him take a hold of it gently. "I now bestow you the ruler of Alomheim," he says and draws his sword up, bringing it down in the middle of her hand. She doesn't even flinch. Everyone cheers as he pulls the sword and dark purple blood starts pouring out. A medic comes over and wraps the wound in bandages, knowing it'll heal in three days.

The cheers die down as Lezabel claps loudly. "Today is a day for us all to commemorate. Let us dance!" she cheers and loud music plays from the orchestra. The melody soothing to our ears.

I walk away from the dance stage and to the food area. I grab a wooden cup and fill it with worm juice. I chug it down, feeling ultimately refreshed. I fill the cup up again and rest against the wall, slowly drinking it. The goop rolling down my throat. People are dancing around me except one other. A handsome man who looks around one hundred and thirty years old, 10 years older than me. He has long black hair and long pointy ears. His fingers are long and lean and he has bright eyes. I feel attracted to him.

I put the cup down on the table and swivel through the loud crowd towards him. He's standing while pouring himself a cup of worm juice. He's wearing a black suit with a dark purple tie.

"Hey," I say and catch his attention.

He turns to face me and smiles calmly, my heart flutters. "How are you?" His piercing red eyes stare into me as he speaks deeply.

"I'm good. You?"

"I'm fantastic. This party is pretty cool, don't you agree?" He asks and looks out at the dance floor. I follow his gaze.

"It's cool." We stand in an awkward music filled silence side by side.

"Want to dance?" He asks and smiles a pearly white smile.

"S-Sure," I reply and take his hand.

We walk out onto the dance floor and sway side to side to the beat of the calm music. I rest my head on his chest, his cold radiating off of him and it's soothing. He wraps his hand around my waist and I wrap mine around his neck. His cold breathe blows on my ear.

"What's your name, lovely?" He asks deeply. A smile forces its way onto my lips.

"Gaizka," I tell him.

"Seth," he tells me and tightens his grip around my waist, making my cheeks cold with a blue shade. "What a beautiful name."

"Thank you," I whisper. We continue to dance the night away, learning more about each other.