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Taious ran, his head pounding with the blood rushing through. Little Esli sat nestled in his arms, whimpering at the sudden onslaught of angry spirits following.

Taious hadn’t known that the spirits’ activity was so… active in that part of the forest. He never would have taken Esli for a hike if he had known. He had dismissed the guard who had wanted to escort them, and now he was wishing that he had taken them.

The forest grew thicker and so did the underbrush, the branches and thorns snagging on Taious’ loose trousers. Suddenly, a spirit appeared before him, it’s glowing-green sneer menacing and terrifying. Taious hugged Esli close to his chest and took his sword in a shaking hand, protecting Esli’s face and making sure she wouldn’t see anything.

“Stay back, spirit!” He shouted, edging forward.

The angry being edged forward, its sword at the ready. Taious’ fortitude crumbled and he ran, holding his daughter closer to his chest. What if Taious fell in battle? That would mean leaving Esli to her own devices, which mostly included tiny building blocks and faery tale books. Oh, and stealing random peoples’ shoes. Esli whimpered as her father ran faster.

A huge hand came out of nowhere, halting Taious’ progress. He fell backwards with a shout and the huge, lumbering spirit stalked towards him. Taious stumbled back, tried to stand and run away, but the spirit was too fast.

“Leave us be!” Taious begged, still edging backwards.

The spirit grinned and reached down, and Taious held on to his daughter with all his might. The spirit ripped Esli from her father’s arms, and the screaming child reached for her father. Taious stood to rip his little girl away from the terrible being but he was held back by a pair of hands.
Taious fought with all his heart. He would never let his little girl, his youngest daughter be taken by anybody! He had vowed to never let her get hurt! He loved her!
Taious screamed against the hands’ hold, and tried to free himself, pulling his arms away and stepping on any toes that neared and trying to get a good hit in. But it was futile. Esli’s screams and bawling grew distant as she was taken through the forest, and Taious gave one last agonized shout before a dull knife was thrust through his chest, silencing him with a gasp.

The hands released him. Taious fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding torso and still begging for his daughter to come back.

Esli’s screams grew distant. The ache in his chest grew nearer. Taious’ last thoughts were of the daughter he had failed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli screamed for her Dama. They had just been going for a walk! And then Dama had started running, and then there was a terrifying shriek, and Dama ran harder. Esli had begun to cry. But then, somebody—a monster—had taken Esli away from her Dama. They flung her over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Esli screamed and wailed and begged for her Dama as the sight of her grew distant.

But Esli still saw the knife go into Dama’s chest.

She still saw the man—no, devil-monster-evil—grin as he backed away.

She still saw as the monster stepped away, grinning.
Esli still saw the light leave her Dama’s eyes, the pained regret falling from agony to terrifyingly peaceful. Esli saw her Dama’s eyes glaze over in death.

The man followed after Esli and her abductor, still grinning. “Well, that was fun,” he smiled, whipping off the blade of the sharp dagger.

“Let me go!” Esli screamed, banging on her captor’s back with tiny, angry fists.

The spirit carrying her shook her hard, and Esli almost fell off his shoulder. “Quiet!” He ordered

The man, that Esli now recognized as Nithe with his curling horns, grinned at her savagely. “Oh, this will be fun! We’ve got Rona in the ship, don’t we?” the evil Nitheman asked gleefully.

The spirit nodded.

“Good. Now, I think it’s time for a little rest, hmm?”

With that, a firm blow hit Esli’s head, and everything went dark.Eliza and half of the entire Palace Guard had gone out into the forest in search of the Dathor. Eliza had told all of her children that they were forbidden to come with her, but she could distantly feel Rohad and Kayleth’s presence behind her, trying to act like they were supposed to be there. They stalked through the woods, the trees looming over them and uttering sweet nothings in their ears. The sun is shininggggg, they’d whisper, This ground is scared.

Eliza paid them no mind, as she always did. She could vaguely hear Kayleth and Rohad muttering worriedly behind her.

The sound of buzzing filled her ears, and Eliza trudged forward toward the sound. There, in the bushes, lay a bloodied—and dead—horse, its innards strewn across the dark grass and thorns. It was Taious’ horse. He had bought the mare with his own money, and had taken each of his children on rides with it through the forest. This was the first time Taious and Eliza had been in agreement about letting Esli out in the forest. Taious and Esli had gone on a hike, and the deep feeling of regret was burrowing itself into Eliza’ heart.

Eliza scowled as she noticed a trampled trail of thorns and thick grasses. Taious must have ran through the grasses with Esli to escape whatever they were running from. She saw various piles of ash and corroded pieces of metal that Eliza assumed had once been armor and were the remains of vengeful spirits.

Eliza started running, looking for her husband. He had done away with three of the spirits, which was good. But Eliza hadn’t even known that there were spirits inhabiting her woods, and if she did, she never would have let her husband and daughter go on their own.

A deep knot of worry imbedded itself in Eliza’s brain. What if Taious had been killed? What if Esli had been killed? She’d never forgive herself.

The trail of trambled grasses and thorns kept going, and the trees here started to sing in despair. Looooooostttttt, the trees wailed, Gone!

Eliza’s head swam as she followed the trail. The trees kept singing their mournful song:

Deep down in the woods
Where not one could sing,
There lay the king,
Silent, still.
We wail and we cry,
For for we will not be seen til spring.Running, racing,
Dancing, pacing!
The babe wailed high,
The father wailed low.
Smiling, grinning,
Happy in the beginning.
Now all is lost,
Now all is sad,
Now there is nothing
Warm to be had!Grabbed, yanked,
Pulled, and flanked.
Surrounded and hope
Had departed.
Now we sing,
Now we mourn,
Here we stand broken-hearted!Eliza felt tears prickle in her eyes. Where were they? She asked herself over and over. But finally, she found her answer.

There, in an open clearing and lying in a basin of blood, lay her Taious, eyes vacant and unseeing.

The tears in Eliza’s eyes fell like falling rain as she looked down on her husband’s broken and shattered form, his beautiful, viridian skin gone pale and his flowing waves of light brown hair dotted with the blood that pooled around him.

Eliza had loved him. Every part. His beautiful, pale hair, his curling horns adorned with shining chains and string, the way he swayed when they danced. And now–

He was gone. Back to his Mother, to Ebrar, to the Queen of the Green Things. Her husband lay still in the grass.

Dead.

Dead.

Gone.

She was Alone.

When Eliza’ best friend’s wife, Ara, had died, she had watched Aytha crumple in on himself. Aytha never left his home, he hardly reassured his people that all would be well with the loss of their queen, because not even he believed it. Saytha and Daytha, his sons, had to watch as Aytha fell deeper and deeper in his grief. Eliza watched her best friend, her brother, fall in the heartache of being Alone.

Not even Aytha’s own brother, Thirisam, could bring him back from the abyss.

Eliza stood rooted to the spot like the trees around her for a few moments before regaining her composure. There would be a funeral to prepare. Distant family to invite. A tomb to be made.

Eliza turned to her children who were (not) cleverly disguised as guards. “Go find Esli. Find the rest of the guard, tell them to be swift. Should you encounter any man or spirit in these woods, kill them without a second thought.”

Kayleth and Rohad nodded in tandem, and fled the scene of sorrow.

Eliza forlornly picked up her love and started towards the palace.The remaining guards left to protect the palace were horrified. The Dathor was dead. Gone. The Dathir had strode into the palace doors, walking briskly with dried tears streaked across her face. The Guard was in terrified awe.

Their Dathir hardly showed negative emotion in public. When there was a threat of war from a human kingdom, the Dathir would respond with pleasant greetings and records showing no reason for war to be had. The Dathir was often seen with a cheery smile and bright eyes; now, her eyes were almost as vacant as her dead husband’s.

“Your majesty, where is the rest of the guard?” the co-captain of the Guard asked. Eliza had divided her Guard into two groups: one group to protect the people, and one group to guard the Palace. The majority stayed with the people. This captain, Othrir Mallethorn, had never seen his Dathir looking so despondent.

“Summon the Guard,” the Dathir whispered, barely audible, “search for the dathus.”

Captain Mallethorn’s eyes widened with shock. Where was the Dathus? The little girl couldn’t have gone far! Captain Mallethorn turned to his counterpart at the gate. “Summon every guard in the Palace! Commence the search for the Dathus Esli!”

The guard, much younger than Captain Mallethorn himself, dashed off, a look of alarm covering his usually stoic face.

“Summon the coroner,” the Dathir muttered, drawing Captain Mallethorn out of his stupor of ordering people around. “The funeral must be prepared.”

With that, the mourning Dathir trudged back into the palace.

If anybody saw the Nithequeen and her husband together, they’d have thought, “Oh! What a beautiful display of affection! They must have such a happy marriage.” Which, of course, they did. But now, the servants and scurrying guards saw their Dathir walking through the halls, her cloak and shirt covered with the blood that now ceased to come from her husband’s wound. If anybody looked, they would mourn their Dathor, and mourn for their Dathir, who would be going into a long mourning period.

Soon enough, Eliza had made her way to the dark tomb under the Palace, where her father, mother and younger sister had buried. Three open sections of the tomb had made, and Taious’ was covered with stone engravings of thorny vines with dark roses and beautiful runes that blessed the place to leave his loved ones with a short mourning time.

Eliza doubted the runes would work.

She laid her husband on the stone table in his allotted section, and arranged his hair away from his face. He had hated it when his hair was askew. When Eliza told him that he would look nice with bangs when they were young, he had scoffed and hadn’t spoken to her for the rest of the day.

Minutes after his hair was artfully arranged, the coroner appeared, looking grim.

“He’s dead,” Eliza said blandly.

“Yes, I know that, Eliza, I’m just doing my job. Confirmation for the records,” the coroner and royal advisor, Nathir Prebair, had been a good friend of Taious’.

Nathir sighed. “Who was it?”

Eliza frowned, her brow furrowing. “Spirits and men. People are amassing in the forests, Nathir. If I had known what would-”

“Shut up, Eliza! Go find the Seer and bring them here. And hurry up!” Nathir almost shouted.

Just like that, Eliza snapped. “You do not order-!”

“Um, yes, I do order you around because I am a) older, and b), the person organizing the funeral. So get a move on before the waterworks start coming,” Nathir snarked.

For a brief moment Eliza hesitated, remembering her own mother’s funeral that Nathir had also orchestrated. Then she nodded slowly and left the huge tomb, her soft footsteps the only sound to be heard.On the day of the funeral, Estrada dressed in red. Dark, blood red, as did the rest of her siblings. Plyis held her hand. Plyis was nearing the age of twenty-three, and Esli had been his responsibility as her older brother, and he needed the comfort. Estrada thought that his red tunic and robes would have been cute on her brother for any other occasion. Ama stood beside Estrada, and Rohad and Kayleth were on her other side. Adirous stood beside Plyis, his hand resting on her youngest brother’s shoulder. The crown prince of Tanvi and Heir to the Throne stood grim as he watched his grandmother place delicate strawberry blossoms in her son’s hair. Tears streamed from his grandmother’s eyes as she tucked the small blooms around Estrada’s Dama’s head and shoulders.

Eliza, Estrada’s mother and the Dathir of Tanvi, came to the pale body of her husband, a basket of fresh magnolia flowers in hand. She arranged the large flowers in Taious’ clasped hands, their soft, white petals oddly cheery on the somber occasion.

Only friends and family had been invited. Taious’ will had clearly stated that he had only wanted a small, quiet affair when his end came.

After Nama, Taious’ mother, and Eliza had finished with the flowers, Nathir and the Seer said their words to bring Taious to Ebrar, where he would be welcomed forever in the afterlife.

Estrada saw tears leak from Adirous’ eyes and found Plyis weeping as well. Kayleth was holding Rohad in a comforting embrace, and Nama was holding Rohad and Kayleth to comfort them. Even Ama was crying, though her face was blank as Nathir and the Seer spoke.

But Estrada couldn’t bring herself to cry. No tears welled in her eyes, and her chin did not deign to shake with unshed ones. She felt despondent at the loss of her mother—and quite possibly her littlest sister—but she just couldn’t cry.

Estrada had always stood firm in grief and hardships. When her mother’s father, her Nami, had died in a flood, she hadn’t cried either. And Nami had taught her her numbers and letters, the best knots for sailing, and how to properly take care of her hair. Dama and Ama had cried, Adirous had cried, but Estrada hadn’t. Her four younger siblings hadn’t yet been born, so they never had the chance to meet Nami.

But the thing was, Estrada cried when she couldn’t figure out a difficult arithmetic equation. She cried when Adirous tried to shove her around. She cried when a fictitious character in a story died. She cried when she shot down her first kill, and when she had gone to make sure the man was dead (He was hunting some of their hunting party for their horns, and Estrada had been sent to scout). Estrada seemed to cry for many things, but the loss of family was not one. But she never knew why.

And that was why she was always seen as the foundation of the family when grief struck. When Nami died, Ama almost fell to her grief. But Estrada, Dama, and Rohad had taken up the work, even if Adirous, the heir, was supposed to rule in his mother’s stead.

Now, Estrada stood and watched as Ama, Nama, and Nathir, one of Dama’s best friends, pushed his stone slate in the tomb and covered the tomb with a huge boulder.
The only thing that was left was a fluttering strawberry blossom that had fallen from her Dama’s hair.

(Estrada preserved the flower to remember each day without her Dama.)

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The choppy waves made Esli sick. She was condemned to the brig of the ship, with the skittles of mice to keep her company. They chirped and chattered and squeaked, but never came close. They seemed to be her only company.

When Esli had first vomited on the ship, Jared, the man who had murdered her Dama–

No, the

monster

who had murdered her father. Jared had made her clean up the filth and given her a bucket. Now, as the rain and violent waves slapped and shoved against the wooden vessel, Esli felt sick again.

She wanted her Dama, for the goddess’ sake! She wanted her Dama, or Essy, or Adirous, or even Rohad or Kayleth. Plyis always seemed to make her mad, though.

It was cold in the belly of the ship, and while she was surrounded by boxes of provisions, she hardly had pieces of bread to eat and small cups of water to drink. And the water was always slightly salty. Not the

really

salty of the ocean, but just enough for Esli to know that the mean spirits and men above had diluted it with seawater.

Her hands were bound with thick rope, and they had started to bleed three days ago. Esli thought that she had been on board the ship for four days, and there was four days for her Ama and Dama to find her, and then, it’d all be over. She’d never have to drink salty water from a rotting, wooden cup again, and if she made a sandwich, she’d be able to cut off the crusts. She’d even get Dama to cut it into a flower shape, just like he did when Esli was sick.

Dama would read her a story when she got home, and he’d make her warm, Healing Tea that would make her wrists feel better and–

But–

But Dama was in the forest. Dama was lying still, still reaching for Esli’s hand. Esli wanted to grab his hand, let Dama take her home and tuck her in bed. But–

Esli had a vague recollection of what death was. It meant that you would never see them again. They couldn’t tell you bedtime stories, or kiss your scraped palms after falling on the street. Dead meant still, quiet. Sometimes, Esli heard the trees singing about death, about the eerie stillness and quiet of a dead body, and how there was one just beneath its boughs.

The trees had sang about a dead person’s vacant eyes, their pale complexion. But Esli realized that was what her Dama had looked like when he was lying on the forest floor, one hand reaching for Esli.

When Dama stopped reaching, his eyes stayed open and they shone from the trickles of afternoon light sprayed about by the leaves of the trees around them. His hand had gone still, and wasn’t reaching for Esli anymore. And a puddle of blood—the red liquid that poured from Esli’s hands when she fell on the road—was staining his pretty shirt a nasty, ugly colour.

But now, Esli realized that her Dama

wasn’t

coming to save her. Dama was dead.

Warm, angry tears prickled Esli’s eyes. They spilled over and she leaned against the wall, crying loudly. She guessed it must have been nighttime, because Jared, the too-tall, pickle-headed

meanie

that he was, loudly stomped down the stairs to the brig with a swinging lantern in hand.

“What is it, girl?” he growled. His black hair was slightly tangled around his horns, a few strands hanging from the curves like an ancient style of the queens.

Esli had tried screaming at them to bring her her Ama and Dama, but that never worked. They only sneered at her and had said that they weren’t coming, which wasn’t true. Ama

was

coming, and she’d bring Dama with her. So Esli tried a different tactic.

“I’m cold,” she shivered, still sniffling. “Can I have a blanket?”

Jared sneered, as he was prone to do. “You have body heat, don’t you? Use that.” With those curt words, Jared stalked back up the stairs, but, much to Esli’s delight and Jared’s chagrin, he fell backwards with the ship’s turning, and fell down the stairs and hit his head on the wooden floor. Esli giggled before she could stop herself, and Jared’s head whipped around, his eyebrows a funny-looking line pointing downward towards his eyes.

Jared stood and found a slipping rat on the floor. The poor thing was grabbed by Jared before it could escape, and expertly thrown at Esli (

Is rat-throwing a sport?

Esli wondered). She screamed and edged away from the bars of her cell. Jared grabbed them savagely and pressed his face against them.

“Try that again,

rat,

and you’ll be joining your brethren from other drowned ships in the bottom of the sea!”

This time, Jared successfully made his way up the stairs.

Unfortunately… 
 
When the ship landed, Esli felt worse than she ever had. Her stomach felt like it was imploding, and her head ached worse than when she had hit it on a staircase when she was trying to go get a glass of water at home.

However, it wasn’t Jared or one of his companions—more like minions—who released Esli from the brig. It was a human woman with olive skin, upturned eyes and dark hair, just like her Ama. She tore a thick, white shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows and a dyed-green and blue leather vest with four brass button, Esli counted them herself. Her boots laced up to her  knees, and her black trousers were tucked neatly into the boots. A sword hung at her side and a bracelet with two beads hung from her right hand.

She stood in front of the bars of Esli’s cell, her muscled arms crossed in displeasure. A man, one of the crewmembers from the ship, stood beside her, fidgeting with his sleeve. Esli caught a glimpse of nervousness in his eyes.

“

This

is what you have brought me?” the woman asked, clearly displeased with Esli’s mere presence.

“Well, you see, Jared wanted someone who could be molded-” the crewmember started, but the woman held up a hand in his direction and he quieted.

The woman sighed and snatched the ring of keys from the crewmember and started unlocking the cell. The keys clicked against each other and the door swung open with the awkward squeal of rusted hinges. The woman muttered something about improper care of seafaring ships and stepped inside the cell.

She loomed over Esli with her hands now on her hips. The woman didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. “Well come on now, up!” she barked.

Esli scrambled to stand and

really

wanted to ask the woman to undo her bonds, but she had a crewman to do the same thing, and had gotten slapped for it.

The woman took Esli by her bonds, making Esli hold her hands up. The crewmember started to protest. “Rona, Jared wants her to immediately go to the Chamber–”

The woman, Rona, scoffed. “Jared can take that up with me. I’ve got a troublemaker to deal with.” Rona scowled down at Esli.

Esli cowered under her gaze and Rona pulled her up the stairs. After what Esli thought was a whole month under the ship, the glaring brightness of the sun hurt her eyes. She squinted against the harsh rays of sun, but Rona pushed her forward. The few crewmembers that were fixing the sails and rigging laughed at Esli’s reaction to the sun. Rona shoved her forward again, down a creaky, wooden ramp that led to a creaky, wooden dock.

As Esli’s eyes adjusted to the angry, bright sunlight, she saw men and spirits spiriting things around the docks, people rushing to and fro to complete their tasks. Tall buildings stood high and cobbled streets were covered in a swarm of people buying things from market stalls, or soldiers making their rounds.

As Rona started walking, people cleared a path for her, some pulling their children out of the way to avoid her shoving past them. The people gave them a wide berth, and started whispering amongst themselves about the little girl Rona had found.

Soon enough, a huge, stone fortress came into view. Esli was taken aback by the sheer

vastness

of it. Trios of guards walked around the huge wall that surrounded it, one man with a sword, one with a bow, and one with a long, sharp spear.

The guards let Rona in the front doors without question and once the doors had closed behind them, Esli finally had the courage to speak. “Where are we?”

“The Fortress. It is a cursed land.” Rona said “cursed” like “curse-ed”.

“Why am I here?”

Rona grinned devilishly. “To learn.”

Esli decided it was time to stop with the questions.

The main gates of the Fortress opened and Rona guided Esli down turning halls and up slim stairways that led to who knew where. They passed through a courtyard with a single, dead tree in the middle. The tree was quiet. It didn’t sing or dance in the breeze. It was eerie.

Then, Rona led her down a hall with no windows and no adornments except for a few tapestries. She opened a door and pushed Esli in, closing it behind her.

Inside the room was confusing for Esli. She had assumed it would be another confined cell, but it was quite the opposite. A green divan with a quilted duvet sat in front of a low table and a copper bath tub in front of the fireplace. In the back of the room, a stove, oven and a large ice box stood in front of a wall, along with a spigot of water. A short, wooden table with little cushions sat directly in between the kitchen and fireplace.

Rona pulled out a wooden handle from a hidden pocket and Esli flinched as a blade popped out of it. Rona smiled. “You’ll learn to get used to it.”

Rona cut Esli’s bonds with a few swift slices with the knife. She looked her up and down, from her dirty, bare feet—Esli’s little shoes had fallen off when her Dama had been running—to her filthy tunic and trousers.

“Alright. I’ll get the water going and you need to get in the tub,” Rona said, nodding to the tub.

Esli stood dumbfounded. Her Ama or Dama always helped her take a bath. “Could you help me?” Esli whispered, waiting for a reprimand.

“I’ll help you with your hair,” Rona said, and that was that.

Soon, Esli was sitting in the tub, scrubbing off all of the grime and dirt that she had accumulated. Rona sat on the soft rug, brushing out Esli’s tangled hair. She yanked on it, with no regard for the delicate, light locks. Esli winced every time she hit a particularly difficult knot (and many there were).

After, Rona threw Esli a loose shirt and a pair of slippers and directed her to a dusty room to get changed. The room looked

old.

The bed frame was carved with high posts but no curtains. Esli’s Ama and Dama’s bed had light curtains surrounding it.

The floor was a cold, barren rock. A tall mirror hung from a wall and a wooden wardrobe sat by another. And that was it. The room was relatively large, Esli thought that even Rona or her Dama would think so. Esli patted the bed’s cover and dust circled her hand, floating in the air and slowly drifting back down. The small window across from the door lit the dust, making it all the more visible. Esli sneezed at the onslaught of dirt and dust.

She changed into her large shirt, which went down to her knees, and pulled on her tiny slippers. The room was cold, with no fireplace gracing its drab walls. Her hair still hung limp behind her back, slowly drying in the cold air. Esli took a few pieces and twisted them in her hands. Her Ama had liked to put her hair into little curls and pin them behind her head.. Esli wondered if she could curl her hair by twisting it when it was wet.

However, Esli was broken out of her thoughts by Rona, who barged in with a sharp knock, saying, “We’re leaving.”

Esli followed the tall woman through the cold halls of the Fortress, feeling underdressed in her long shirt and slippers. They went back down the winding staircases and back through the closed and sometimes windowed halls until they finally made it to a huge, square room with a raised dias directly in the center. Sitting on a low desk and writing something down on a long piece of paper, was Jared. Esli bristled at the

thing’s

mere presence.

It took a whole five, boring minutes before Jared finally looked up from his work. “Well, finally. You were told to get here right after the ship landed,” Jared said, glaring at Esli from her faraway position across the room.

“The girl wanted to be clean,” Rona sneered. Esli scowled. She hadn’t even spoken until she was inside the gates! Much less asked to take a bath!

Jareed shrugged. “Well, wouldn’t want her dying from some infectious malaise, would we? Now, Dathus of Tanvi, do you know why you’re here?”

Esli shrugged, still glaring at Jared. “I dunno.”

“You ought to speak to me with respect and dignity, girl! I am an

emperor

!” Jaared growled, now standing. He stalked off his platform and paced in front of the two. Rona put her hand across Esli’s shoulders to keep her from moving, and the hand was large enough to reach from one end of her right shoulder to the left end.

“Now,” Jared continued, “let’s get to business, shall we? So you, Esli of Tanvi, are to be my pupil. Well, I’ll not deign to teach you, but you will do as I say. Should I tell you to chop off a man’s toes, you’ll do it. Should I tell you to go kill your brother, you’ll do it. You are to be completely and totally obedient, understood? Is it through your tiny little head yet?’

Esli looked up at Jared. He looked down on her. Esli scowled even harder at him. “You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my Dama!”

Jared chuckled. “Oh, I might not be, and neither do I

want

to be. But your

Dama

is dead. Gone to the grave, six feet under, stuck in a tomb. And if you’re wondering, your mother won’t even

consider

coming here to save you. It’s too difficult a journey and too difficult for her soldiers to handle. Because she’d

have

to bring his men, because how else would she get past my defenses? I’ve got stone gates with posted archers, roving guards, crossbows on the port towers. I’ve got everything! So, Esli, no, neither your Ama nor Dama are coming to get you.” Jared turned to Rona. “Leave,” he ordered, and Rona, still holding the back of Esli’s neck, steered her towards the staircase again, and took her back to the little apartment.

When Esli was sitting in a ball on the divan, her feet tucked under her, Rona said, “I’m going out. Don’t touch anything. And take your feet off the sofa, they’re dirty.” With that, she left the apartment with a small bag of coins and quietly closed the door behind her.

Now, Esli was alone.

She soaked in Jared’s mean words. He had said that her Ama and Dama

weren’t

coming to get her. But that was impossible! Ama

had

to come and save her. And Dama wasn’t dead, he was just… conked out. And Esli’s sad, sleep-deprived mind when she was on the ship had the incorrect conclusion. Maybe her Dama had just been knocked out by Jared. Yes, he was alive and searching for her with Ama, scouring the woods and going to see if Nama would help.

But now.

But now, Esli was sitting alone, on a cold sofa, with cold feet, cold hands, and was, overall, cold. The fire in the fireplace had dwindled to a small, flickering flame and Esli didn’t dare touch it. Her Ama and Dama said to never get too close to the fire.

However, she did tuck her feet back in against Rona’s orders. Her Ama and Dama had let her put her feet on the couch.
 
Rona stood in the shop filled with yards of fabric and little items of clothes. She hadn’t bought clothes for a child in ages, not since her son had died. The stout woman at the counter waddled over to her with a smile on her face. “How can I help you?” she asked.

Rona nodded, regaining her thoughts. “I need clothes for a little girl of about six. Could you find some?”

The woman nodded. “Oh, yes, that ought to be easy! Any specific colours?” the woman said, toddling back behind her counter to check her records.

“Some green and blue. Easy to move in,” Rona said, feeling a strand of lace between her calloused fingers.

“I can get that. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” the woman scurried away and Rona was left alone in the shop with only her thoughts to accompany her.

Why did Jared give

her

this job? She hadn’t taken care of a child in years! Not since her son. And Jared had

killed

her son. So why would he be so cruel to give her another child, when her own had just died two years ago,

by his hand?

Jared was terrible and merciless, but she never believed him to be this way. And Rona didn’t know what to get a little girl. She needed clothes, bedding—the guest bedroom was so dusty and old, everything would need to be replaced—food,

weapons.

Given Jared’s plan, Rona would have to teach a

six year old how to use a sword.

She was

not

looking forward to that. And anyway, what did little girls even like? Did they like to play with blocks and wooden figurines, or did they prefer soft-skinned dolls and playing dress-up? Rona knew that playing dress-up was out of the question, besides maybe play fighting and getting some armor. She wouldn’t be against that idea. And she’d need to get Esli some little boots. She couldn’t go walking around the Fortress with only th little slippers Rona had lent her.

The woman came back with her arms full of clothes. She held a small, bright green dress with a dark blue sash up for Rona to see. “How about this? Look good?” the woman asked, smiling brightly. Even in this tyrannical island, it seemed people could still be happy.

“Well, how about boys’ clothes?” Rona suggested. She couldn’t have this little girl running around a fortress wearing frilly dresses and slippers! It’d be a disaster in more ways than one.

“Just a moment,” the woman said. She scurried out of sight once more.

About a minute later (Rona counted. The lace had grown boring), the woman came back with a box of clothes this time, and then pulled out a pair of little trousers and a little buttoned shirt.

Rona clapped once with satisfaction. “That’s it. Thank you, ma’am.”

With that, she paid and with her bag of clothes, made her way to another shop where the wares would be

far

more expensive.

The large store was in almost the heart of the town, surrounded by many other smaller stores that sold various—lesser—products. Rona strode inside the wooden door, her bag of small-person clothes swinging on her arm. The man at the counter scowled at her entrance.

“How can I help you?” he asked politely, however, his eyes gleamed with irritation.

“I need one of your soap baskets,” Rona said, peering at a vial of rose-scented perfume.

The man’s eyes shone with surprise. His eyes were very shiny. “Ah. If you’ll give me a moment.”

Rona nodded solemnly and peered out of the huge windows whose edges were painted a delicate blue. She heard the man scurry away quickly and shove through a swinging door to the back.

Soon, another man with dark, feathery hair and distinguished, brown eyes came from behind the desk and smiled tightly. “Might I invite you to the back?”

Rona nodded and stepped away an arrangement of slightly wilted roses. The dark-haired man led her through the swinging door in the back and down a hall and up a set of stairs until they finally found themselves by a locked door. The dark-haired man knocked twice, waited a moment, twice again, a moment more, and finally three times. The door opened and Rona and the man stepped inside.

The room was lit with the light of the bright sunlight from above, the glass-paneled ceilings letting the pale light, making the blades glimmer and gleam. Along the walls, huge, shining swords hung. Great, wooden-handled axes lay on tiered shelves, some having hollowed out engravings in the head. Quivers of arrows hung from pegs on another wall, and in the middle of the room stood boxes and barrels of various—lethal—products. Poisons, throwing knives, sharp, thin strands of metal to put in your hair (something Rona had designed herself, thank you. She was always armed to the teeth, even her head) and everything else. Rona dropped the bag of little clothes by the door and picked up a shortsword from the wall. She felt that it was relatively light, and would work for the time being. She put it back on the wall and turned to the assortment of knives in the middle of the room. She had been looking at box set of finely made and carved Nithe throwing knives, but had never found the courage to buy them. She guessed then was a good time.

She opened the leather-lined box—which reminded her of a cutlery set—and gazed lovingly at the shining blades, three wickedly curved, three pointing straight, and the last being purely ornamental with a gold-lined hand-guard and jewels inlaid in the pommel.

She closed and tapped the box. “I want this one. Plus that shortsword.”

The man raised a brow. “Are you

sure

you want to give a child a set of throwing knives?”

Rona rolled her eyes. “Glasses, don’t even try to dissuade me. Jared’s making me take a new apprentice.”

Glasses sneered. “Of a three year old?”

“Six, actually,” Rona said smartly.

“And you want a six year old to hold a shortsword? I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to keep sharp objects

away

from children,” Glasses remarked, writing down a little ticket and delicately placing it on the leather box of knives.

“Yes, Glasses, I know. I’ve raised a child before,” Rona said. Rona briefly remembered Jamie, with his little set of wooden knives that he would throw around.

“And did you give him a sword?”

“Well…”

“Rona, you fiend! But fine,

you’re

the one buying my wares, and I am the one selling. It is not my place to deny a customer certain items from my vast inventory,” Glasses said, his nose pointed to the sky like a curious bird.

Rona stalked around the room for a few minutes more, occasionally tapping a throwing axe or certain vial. Afterwards, she went down to the front desk in the light of the soap shop and picked out a vial cedar-scented perfume and a bottle of bubbly soap.

In total, she paid three pieces of gold, which wasn’t half bad for Glasses’ shop.

As Rona picked up her last items and started making her back towards the Fortress, she remembered that you couldn’t really leave a child without supervision for too long. And too long it had been. Three hours at least (Rona had a habit of getting lost in the market).

Rona quickened her pace and the guards at the first opened the door quickly, so did the ones at the second and third. Servants scurried away from her as she almost ran through the halls. She quickly opened the door to the apartment and dropped her assortment of newly acquired clothes.

She had only

just

gotten an apprentice! What if the little girl tried to escape? She could be executed for letting her get away so easily!

“Hey, kid?” she called, but no tiny voice responded.

“Kid, where are you?” Rona asked angrily.

She dashed around the room, looking inside the still-filled tub, under the short sofa, behind the bookshelves and under both hers’ and the kid’s bed, but she wasn’t there.

Rona started to worry. Where could she be? She was in a military fortress surrounded by large, intimidating men, even by Rona’s standards. Nobody else besides Jared was Nithe, and she would be surrounded by strange faces. She could get lost or get trampled in the stables, should she even get near. Rona was terrified, and she wasn’t often.

Finally, she had the idea to search through the kitchen cabinets, because the kid was a small person, right? Small people can fit into cabinets, that Rona was sure of. And, lo and behold, Rona found the little girl curled up in a dusty cabinet filled with dusty mixing bowls.

She flinched when Rona opened the door to the cabinet, and drew closer into the corner. Rona scowled. “Why are you hiding?

That much was obvious. She was hiding from something, whether it be Rona coming home or somebody outside, she didn’t know.

“Why?” the little girl sniffed, looking up from her position that must have been uncomfortable.

“Well, if something happened I need to know. I’m in charge of your safety,” Rona said. “Making sure you’re safe.”

“And how’s that going?” the girl asked, scowling at Rona.

Rona sighed. “Listen kid. I don’t know why the hell you’re here, but while you’re here, you need to follow my rules and orders or you might get put with somebody who isn’t nearly as lenient. Got it?” That was a lie. Rona knew why the girl was there. Jared needed a new assassin that would live longer than the last one.

The child nodded.

“Good. Now tell me why you’re hiding.”

The kid sniffed. “Somebody came inside. I was by the fire and the door opened and I went in here and I saw them take something.”

Rona smiled warmly. “Would you like to start our first unit?”

“Unit for what?”

“Why, your schooling, of course!” Rona said, holding out her hand for the girl to take.

The girl took her hesitantly and crawled out of the cupboard, and soon looked up at  Rona curiously. “What’s our first unit going to be?”

“Well first, we need to get all of your things arranged. Come on, let’s go to your room and put everything away,” Rona said, still holding the little girl’s hand and leading to to the ajar door.

“But there isn’t anything there. Just a bunch of dust and old blankets,” the girl said, frowning.

“I haven’t used that room in ages. It’s so dirty, I reckon a den of dust bunnies have made their home under the bed,” Rona joked. She released the little girl’s hand and started strippng the bed of its’ covers.

The girl giggled, and Rona realized that she didn’t even know her name. “Well, calling you ‘kid’ isn’t going to work, so how about you tell me your name.”

“Esli,” she said. She had started looking under the bed o see if any

actual

dust bunnies had taken up residence.

“My name is Rona. It’s a delight to meet you Esli,” Rona answered.

In Rona’s mind, she briefly registered that the youngest princess of Tanvi was named Esli, had been born unexpectedly six years ago, and took after her father, who had light-colored hair and fair, emerald skin. She also remembered that Jared had an innate hatred for the royal families of Tanvi, Eowa, Ionmir, Moran and

many

more. She also remembered that the royal families were direct descendants of Ebrar, the fabled goddess of life and greenery. Along with her own habit of redundancy, Rona remembered that those of Ebrar’s descent were said to be blessed by her, and had been given the gift of innate magic.

That

was probably why Jared wanted a royal family member.

However, Esli didn’t look like she could do any magic. She didn’t utter an odd phrase to rid the bottom of the bed with dust, and she didn’t seem to like talking to animals. She just looked like a normal—albeit slightly odd-looking, with her pale hair—little Nithe girl. And she was

sure

that Jared would want Esli to learn about her magical capabilities.

Now, however, was not the time.

“Go get the bag of blankets by the door. I think we need to throw these away,” Rona told Esli, who was fiddling with a little ball of lint from under the bed. Esli stood and nodded and went to go fetch the new bedding.

Rona looked around the room. She hadn’t been in that room for ages, not since Jamie had died. The wardrobe was covered with a fine layer of dust and the mirror had streaks on it’s glass from where it had been improperly cleaned. The room would need a thorough cleaning the next day, but night was starting to fall and Esli—as a child—needed lots of rest.

A minute later, Esli came back with a bundle of bedding almost bigger than herself. Rona smiled and took the heavy bundle from Esli, who looked slightly winded. “How about you go to the kitchen, and there’s a big, clay jug of vinegar under the faucet. Go get a cloth and start washing off the mirror,” Rona ordered.

Esli nodded and toddle off to do her guardian’s bidding.
 
Three hours later, at around nine o’clock, Rona sat on the divan with a thick storybook in her lap, and Esli beside her. She had just found out that the little girl could barely read, and had probably just started learning before she was taken. So Rona decided that it would be a good idea to continue. She didn’t own an scholarly books about phonics or how to teach a child simple things like their reading and arithmetic. But she knew them well, so she could teach it herself.

Now, Esli pointed to words that she knew, saying them easily or hesitantly. There were quite a few, but all were simple and easy to understand. So Rona made a plan. She had a dictionary, as certain people did, and they would go through a few pages every night, and then read a chapter in the storybook as a reward. Rona turned to Esli, who was struggling with the word “annointed”, “You wait right here, and I’ll be right back.”

Esli nodded and took the book and continued to read.

Rona strode over to a shelf on the wall that was labeled “LEARNING LITERATURE” and pulled out the dictionary. When she had started teaching Jamie his schooling, she had labeled each shelf for convenience. The dictionary was a heavy, thick book with a dull brown cover and an imprinted word, “DICTIONARY”, which was obvious.

Rona sat back down and delicately took the storybook away, much to Esli’s dismay. Rona sat the dictionary on her lap and Esli leaned forward to try and read the cover. Unfortunately, she was stumped. Rona smiled encouragingly. “This is a dictionary. That’s what it says on the cover. Dict-shun-airy. Dictionary. Now you say it.”

Esli drew up her nose as she struggled with the word. “Dict-shun-airy? Dictionary!”

“Very good! Now, we’re going to go through a couple of words every night so you can learn your words, and after, we’ll read a chapter in the storybook. How does that sound?” Rona asked.

Esli nodded. “Okay. How many pages will we read?”

“Probably just one, but we can read more as we go on,” Rona said.

Esli smiled eagerly and continued reading aloud from the letter “a”.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

This wasn’t fun. She had to pretend that she couldn’t read so Rona would see her as a stupid little kid who would have no intention or ability to escape. Esli needed to gain Rona’s trust so she would take her somewhere public, and Esli could merge with the crowd and get somewhere else, find a boat, and get back to her Dama and Ama.

Esli could read perfectly well, in fact, she and her Ama often read similar books and talked about them.

Soon, Rona sent Esli to bed with a glass of cool water and Esli began her plan of escape. She knew that she would need to make something to cover her face—she was

green

for the goddess’ sake. Then, she’d need to find the ships’ schedules so she could be prepared to leave with one of the cargo ships, and she’d also need to get Rona out in the market so she could get away.

Esli could pour out her soap, maybe, and say that she needed more, or say that some of her clothes didn’t fit. Yes, yes, that would work well!

Esli snuggled deeper into her fresh, clean comforter and fell asleep with thoughts of unicorns sleeping on rainbows and clever plans of escape.

When she awoke in the morning, Rona hovered over her bed twirling a small knife out of what seemed like boredom. When Esli opened her eyes, she turned to the woman who smiled brightly and said, “It’s time for breakfast. And we’ve got to go back to the market again. I forgot a few things yesterday.”

Esli nodded and Rona left the room, letting Esli change her clothes in peace. Esli guessed that her escape would be quicker than planned. Esli pulled on the trousers and (with difficulty) buttoned the shirt and pulled on a navy overshirt. She quite liked the clothes, if she was being honest with herself. Her Ama and Dama had let her wear whatever she wanted, saying, “Style is a sense of self-expression and should never be hindered”.

Rona was waiting at the low table with a jug of what Esli assumed was water and a plate of crispy bacon and eggs. Two plates had been arranged along with silverware.

“Not only do we need to buy more groceries, but we also need to pick up an order from a shop. But I’m going to need you to stay close; it’s going to be crowded today. There’s a public execution in the City Square so I want to avoid it,” Rona said.

Her plate was already filled with breakfast and Esli tentatively filled her plate and dug in. She hadn’t even eaten dinner last night, so she was ravenous.

Now, Rona had started to stare at Esli. “So,” she said, putting her fork down, “are you just not all that talkative, or are you nervous?”

Esli didn’t expect that question. She had expected something like, “Is breakfast good?” or “Is there anything particular from the market you need?”

“I’m eating,” Esli answered.

“Great. I guess I’ll carry the conversation, then. So you like the bacon crispy? Because next time I can make it less well done. I like to make sandwiches with it so the crunch is good for that,” Rona explained, munching on another piece. “Oh, and we’re also going to start you’re training after we get back.”

Esli was taken aback. Rona

had

said that her training would start soon, but she didn’t expect the next

day.

“So be prepared. We’re going to start with some easy stuff, though. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Esli kept her face impassive as she ate her breakfast, but on the inside, she was brimming with excitement for her early escape.
 
Esli held onto Rona’s hand as they made their way through the hordes of people in the market. Now that they had come from a different place, nobody paid them any mind. They were just passing the docks when Esli saw her chance. She gently released Rona’s hand and waded through the crowd, Rona still going forward as if nothing had happened.

She followed the crowd towards the docks, where the ships sat moored by the piers. Esli discreetly dashed towards a ship that had its causeway raised to allow access. The wooden deck creaked as she scurried to go find a hiding place in the hold. There, she found the cargo that the ship was carrying, each labeled, “DO NOT TOUCH! FRAGILE!”

She hid behind one of the boxes and tried to open it, peering inside. The inside simply held green bottles packed together with straw. Esli had seen her Ama and Dama drink stuff from green bottles and had said that she shouldn’t have it and that it would make her sick.

She peered inside another box and saw a huge mound of green and yellow apples, ready for eating. She could eat those throughout the journey.

Esli remembered that Plyis, her older brother, had liked apples. Any kind of apples, really. Sour or sweet, crisp or soft, he just liked apples.

Rohad really liked grapes. Some of the nobles around the palace had their servants skin them, and Rohad had told Esli that that had confused him because the grapes were perfectly fine with their skins on. Then, he told her it might be because the skin got in their teeth. Rohad liked to sit in the library with a bowl of grapes and stay there for a while, reading old battle strategies and war stories.

And Kayleth liked strawberries, like Dama. She liked strawberry jam, and fresh strawberries on her toast with whipped cream. One time, Esli had seen Kayleth throw a bowl of strawberries at somebody who kept touching her hair. Then, Kayleth had given them to Adirous as a “gift”. He’d eaten them, but said that they tasted slightly sandy.

Estrada liked fresh peaches. She’d expertly peel the skin and core it, and cut the peach into perfect—tasty—slices. She even had a peach tree planted in her garden. Sometimes, she would make the best peach cobbler, a recipe she had learned from Nami. Esli had never met Nami, but he sounded like a nice person.

And Adirous liked oranges. Well, any citrus, really. He like grapefruit and the sour oranges that were imported from Vivany. He liked to juice them and add sugar and water. Dama and Ama let

him

drink the stuff from the green bottles, but he preferred his citrus juice.

After Adirous had been born, Ama and Dama had planted a huge garden brimming with different fruits and vegetables, and anybody was free to take them. Only a few days ago—no, a few days before she had been stolen—Esli was sitting in the garden and helped one of the servants pick a few for his family. He got some of the oranges for his daughter, who liked to make cake with them. While they picked a few of the varying produce, he told her stories of his family, about how he had met his wife and his father’s journeys at sea. The next day, he gave Esli a little box of orange candies that his daughter had made with the fresh produce.

But then, breaking Esli out of her fruit-induced memories, two of the ship’s crew walked in to inspect the cargo. One of the men came worryingly close to Esli’s box and she prayed that they wouldn’t notice her. While the guards inspected—obviously not very well—they made idle conversation about gossip around the other ships and towns.

“Oh,

The Seafarer

had a stowaway not three days ago, I heard. Heard they dropped him right in the waves!” One said delightedly.

“Oh, I call codswallop! Those boys are always tellin’ jokes an’ stories an’ lies about their travels. Ne’er a truthful bone in their bodies, I say!”

“Oh, you’re just jealous because you never get to go anywhere ‘cept the port!”

“Am not. And you’re jus’ salty ‘cause you didn’t get to go on the raid to that Nithe place! Started with a ‘t’, didn’ it?”

“Oh, yeah! The Reed settlement did an attack on Tanvi! Heard that both the king

and

queen died. Wish I was there.”

“Oh, you’d be gutted in a moment! You hear what happened to the rest of ‘em?”

“Oh, yeah! Heard they’d been executed after the fightin’ was done. Burned the bodies too.”

Esli almost gave away her hiding spot with a terrified squeak. So when she had thought that Dama had died, she was right? Not only was Dama dead, but so was Ama and Estrada and Adirous and Kayleth and Rohad and Plyis. All… gone. And Ama wasn’t going to be there, ready to tell Esli that all of what had happened was just a bad dream, and Dama wasn’t going to be there to tell her that he’d make her a pie to feel better. Adirous wasn’t going to be able to show her his famed and forbidden-from-touching knife collection, Estrada wasn’t going to be able to pick flowers with her, Kayleth wasn’t going to teach her how to write scolding letters to councilors, Rohad wasn’t going to critique her grammar in the letters, and Plyis wasn’t going to pour custard over a nobles’ head to make her laugh (He’d done that before. The victim’s reaction was hilarious).

Esli’s chest hurt. She wanted her Ama and her Dama. Why couldn’t they come and take her home? And why were the men still talking about it? It hurt to hear about her parents’ death! Why were they being so mean? What did Esli and her family ever do to them?

Esli sniffed and suddenly heard, “Did you hear that?” from one of the men.

“Thought it came from that box,” another said. Esli heard their footsteps grow closer and she froze. She didn’t expect to have to make an escape! She never planned for it; she thought her plan was foolproof.

Just as one of the inspectors got close, Esli rushed out from behind the box and ran along the edges of the wall and up the stairs, her head pounding with confusion, sorrow, and the rapid beating of her lungs. But the inspectors were too fast. One grabbed the collar of Esli’s shirt, yanking her down the stairs and hitting her head on the solid floor. When Esli tried to sit up, she then understood the phrase, “they saw stars”.

One of the men picked her up from under her arms, holding her like a cat under her arms. “And what do we have here? A stowaway!”

The other sneered. “You reckon we’d oughta follow

The Seafarer

’s example and throw her off?”

The one holding Esli grinned. “I quite like that idea.”

Esli squirmed and shimmied to try and get out of the man’s grasp, and he dropped her. Esli landed hard on her rear and tried to run away, but the man who was holding her—Esli named him “Mustache”—stepped on her foot, which she felt shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did.

Mustache grabbed her by the collar and peered at her closely. “Why’s she green? She sick?”

The other man, whom Esli had dubbed “Fatty”, smacked Mustache upside the head. “No, you idiot! She’s a Nithe!”

“Then where’re her horns?”

“She’s a kid! The kids don’ have horns yet, you dolt!” Fatty said, smacking Mustache again.

“Let me go!” Esli screamed, trying to shimmy out of the man’s grasp.

Mustache grinned and dragged her up the stairs, Fatty following behind. “Guess we’ll give this one

the Seafarer

’s punishment, hmm?”

Fatty nodded.

Esli writhed and tried to escape, but it was no use; the man’s grip was too strong. Her feet caught and dragged on the wooden planks of the ship as she tried to stop Mustache’s advance, but again, it was futile.

And Esli didn’t know how to swim! The churning water from a recent rain looked dark and ominous when Esli saw it as she came aboard the ship, and she absolutely had

no desire

to go in it for a leisurely dip!

The rail of the boat came into Esli’s vision faster and faster, and when she looked down, she saw something rise out of the water, a something with sharp teeth and a glint of malice in its eye. Esli struggled harder.

Mustache cackled. “See the beasts, do ya’? Those are Jared’s enemies, turned into seething reptiles to guard the shores! Bet they’ll like this tasty morsel, don’t you think?” Mustache turned to Fatty, who nodded eagerly.

He held Esli high above the railing of the ship, her feet dangling over the open water. One of the water-beasts leapt up and snapped at her feet, and Esli yelped, terrified at the monster’s ability to leap so high in the water.

Then, Mustache’s grip on her shirt fell loose, and Esli toppled into the water with a scream. But right at that moment, Esli heard Rona’s commanding voice yell, “STOP!”

Esli’s head hit the water, and she fell into the churning depths, momentarily paralyzed. She splashed and sprayed water back and forth, trying to tread the waves, but the nearing beasts stopped any chance of her keeping afloat.

One of them got too close, and Esli kicked the thing, hard, and was pushed somehow deeper into the water. Esli had closed her eyes, not wanting to get the stinging salt water in them. She felt a sway in the water and tried to pop back up to the surface, but a scaly grasp held her under.

Do the monsters like their food marinated in salt water?

Esli wondered frantically as she struggled to get up to the surface and take a breath.

Her lungs burned, and it felt like a growing orb of unbreathable air was welling in her chest, waiting to be released and fresh air be sucked in (Which was exactly what it was). But she couldn’t! She’d breathe in water and drown!

The thing dragging her down kept going, and Esli fruitlessly kicked at it, as hard as she could, but with no avail.

She was terrified.

She was going to die.

She was going to join her Ama and Dama and family, but she didn’t want to!

She wanted to live, but she

couldn’t.

She was going to die.

She was terrified.

Finally, Esli exhaled with one huge breath and couldn’t resist breathing in. Water rushed into her lungs and she choked, and all went black.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Rona dove into the water, sea monsters be damned! She couldn’t let the child under her care die because of some foolhardy escape! She swam deep into the murky depth of the sea, the water stinging her eyes and the blurry forms of the monsters coming closer. She unsheathed her sword—slowly, she was in the water of course—and swung at any dark form that came near.

When all of the dark forms had vacated except one, Rona dove toward it, and saw bubbles escaping from the thing. A shock of light hair rose in the water, and Rona followed after it, her lungs burning.

Screw her lungs! Screw her stinging eyes! Rona wasn’t the most eloquent person, but she

needed

to get to Esli before she died. For both Rona’s sake and hers.

Rona dove deeper and finally met the creature at the sea floor, light hardly making it’s way through the murky water. Rona grabbed Esli’s hand and shoved her sword at the beast and swam up as fast as she could, Esli tight in her arms.

When she reached the surface, a crowd of people had gathered around the rope railings of the dock, and when Rona climbed up, the people gave her a wide berth.

“Is she alright?”

“What happened?”

“Who’s the girl?”

Everybody seemed to have varying questions of varying degrees, but Rona paid them no mind. She checked Esli’s pulse, and it was a weak, fluttering thing. She turned Esli over on her side and thumped on her back, hoping, by every deity in existence,

hoping

that she would wake up.

When that didn’t work, Rona tried thumping on her chest, and felt Esli’s delicate bones break. She kept going and Rona saw Esli’s head twitch, and then, she turned around and vomited up all the water she had taken it. The whole crowd cheered and gasped with relief.

Esli slumped down, weak and tired, and Rona took her small form and carried her through the crowd. Now that Rona held Esli by herself, she realized how

small

she was. She couldn’t have been given much to eat on her trip to the Island, and that added to her naturally small size was shocking. The Nithe were supposed to be a hardy race, able to endure anything. Grief, sickness, wounds, but never had Rona seen a Nithe so small and weak. Then again, Rona had never seen a Nithe child, so there was also that.

Esli’s cold form started to warm against Rona’s chest, and Rona started to run through the streets,

needing

to get to the Fortress before Esli started to get worse. The guards had only opened the gates halfway when Rona ran through them, not caring in the least when her coat caught on the door and her sleeve ripped. She dashed through the gardens and training grounds, through the doors and halls, and then into the Healing Wing of the Fortress, where one of Rona’s friends worked. Her name was Edith, and she was kinder than the summer sun and as levelheaded as the butterflies in spring.

Edith was doing some sort of paperwork at a desk in the corner of the room, her pale fingers stained with ink. Rona delicately placed Esli on one of the medical cots and ran over to Edth’s desk in a hurry. “Edith. I am in need of your assistance, dear friend,” Rona said, leaning against the front of Edith’s table.

“With what, might I ask?’ Edith mumbled, dipping her pen in the ink well.

“I’ve got a medical emergency for my charge,

who was thrown in the water and almost drowned.

”

“Well nice, that’s wonderful– wait, what?! Who put you in charge of somebody and why aren’t they here?’ Edith finally looked up from her paperwork—that Rona now realized that it was the request for more bandages for the infirmary—with wide eyes and gaped at Rona.

“Well, where are they?’ Edith demanded, now standing from her desk and looking around the rows of beds to find someone. However, all of the beds were blessedly empty, save for the little green girl in the far corner. With a small gasp—Edith was always one for theatrics—she ran over to Esi, who was breathing lightly and looked almost dead.

Edith checked her heartbeat and turned to Rona. “I think it’d be best if you went and prepared something for when she comes back to your house. It’ll need to be comfortable, you know. Now go on! I’ve got things to do.”

Rona started to protest, but Edith waved her away. “Go get her room ready.”

As Rona trudged away from the infirmary, she distantly heard Edith call for more health personnel.

Rona was at war with herself. She didn’t know if she needed to stay with Esli, or if she should make sure everything was safe for Esli to be around. Did she need to babyproof all of the tables and chairs? She thought that Esli was smart enough to not bang her head on anything.

…Right?

Rona sighed. Kids could do anything.
 
Rona sat on the divan, a warm cup of tea in hand. She gazed distractedly at the rippling surface of the warm, tinted liquid, taking a sip every so often.

Some distant part of her brain recalled that ripples in water were an example of transverse waves and that the formula for the area of a trapezoid was

base (1) + base (2) divided by two and then multiplied by the height. Also, the last elements on the farthest right side of the Periodic Table were not very reactive because their outer electron shells were full. Also, the formula for finding the area of a circle was Pi multiplied by the squared radius.

Rona sighed. With all her knowledge, she

still

didn’t know what to do. Esli was going to be moved to her own room and out of the hospital

that very day

. How would that conversation go? “Oh, well I’m sorry that you tried to escape this terrible prison of an island, but this is your life now, so have a cookie. We’ll start tomorrow.”

That would be a terrible way to greet someone!

Still. The tea continued to ripple after she sipped it, and the world continued to spin.

Just then, breaking Rona out of her chaotic mindset, a knock sounded. Rona put her tea down on the table and went to open the door. There, Edith stood with a careful hand on Esli’s shoulder. Esli looked downtrodden and weary, as if the world had fallen on her shoulders. Her head was tilted down, as if she were a child who had gotten a firm talking-to. Which was most likely the case. She still wore the clothes that Rona had bought her, now dry.

Edith patted her shoulder. “You get some rest, alright? I’d hate to see you in the infirmary anytime soon.”

Esli nodded mutely and stepped inside. Rona closed the door behind her as soon as Esli had stepped in the threshold and stepped outside. “Was she any trouble?”

Edith shrugged. “No, not at all. Just sat in bed for the whole two days. Nothing happened. No visitors, no nobody came to see her. Doesn’t she have parents?”

Rona shook her head. How was she supposed to explain the situation to Edith, who was the most down-to-earth person she knew? Would she say, “Oh, yeah, Jared kidnapped a little Nithe princess and plans on me turning her into an assassin! Cool, right?” No way in all twenty-four

hells

was she going to say that!

Rona rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, you see, Esli here was kidnapped… by Jared… who wants me to turn her into…” Rona paused. “An assassin?”

Edith stood in silence for a brief moment before sighing and putting her hands on her hips. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?’

Rona shrugged. “It’s a package deal, Edith. Now. What do I do?’

“Talk to her, for goodness’ sake! She needs reassurance. She’s going to be a killing machine soon enough and you want her to have a stable beginning, don’t you? Well, go make it happen!” With that, Edith stalked off back down the stone hall, little wisps of her hair flying backward, as if they wanted to stay and tell Rona how to handle the situation. Rona wanted them to tell her how to handle the situation, but they couldn’t. They were just hair.

Rona sighed and went back inside again. Esli sat on the divan, looking guilty with her hands clenched and her side. Rona sighed and sat at the other end of the sofa, leaning her head on her hand. “So,” she began, “what was that all about?”

For the first time, Rona saw Eli show any semblance of emotion. She sniffed. “My Ama and Dama died.”

Rona assumed that meant parents. “Oh. Well.” Now how were you supposed to answer that? A little kid tells you that they’re an orphan, and

you

were supposed to take care of them, what should you do?

Rona cleared her throat. “Well. Would you like some tea?”

Esli nodded slowly, her eyes still drawn to the stony floor and the old carpet covering it.

And so, Rona made the little girl some tea and sat down beside her. Esli glumly took the china cup and sipped it slowly, careful not to burn her tongue.

“When are we going to begin learning?” Esli asked. “I know how to read well already. I was lying when I pretended not to read.”

“Oh. Well. I think we can start with making some traps. You know how you said somebody came inside? We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again. Does that sound good?” Rona asked.

Surprisingly, Esli leaned against Rona’s shoulder. Or, she tried. She was too short for the shoulder, so she settled with the elbow. “Can we tickle their nose when we catch them?” She asked, a small pout on her face.

“All you want,” Rona soothed. They spent the rest of the evening gloomily telling jokes and Rona explaining how to make a simple trap.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Rohad was… displeased. Was that even a word? Yes, “displeased” was most definitely a word. He was quite displeased at the moment.

And in that moment, Nathir, his mother’s Head Advisor, stood by Rohad’s table in the library, looming over him and complaining about Kayleth, who was raging around the palace and either destroying the public garden, destroying the kitchens, or throwing knives at unsuspecting advisors and/or councilors, Nathir being one of them.

“Rohad, you

must

reign in your sister! She is

far

too rowdy for the time! Especially since His Majesty Aytha and his sons are coming soon. We can’t have them seeing how… how…”

“How volatile Kayleth is?” Rohad deadpanned, completing his signature with a flick of his pen. He started writing another document.

“Why, yes! She must be contained!”

Rohad sighed. “Advisor, my sister simply cannot be contained. She has not been since birth and before that. If you want her out of the way, like most people do, send her into the forest with her friends for a hunting trip. She’ll be delighted.”

“I would hardly call them

friends

. They are more followers than anything,” Nathir scoffed. With that, he stalked off, his robes swishing behind him.

Then, Rohad didn’t have a single, personal conversation with Nathir for twenty years.

After Rohad’s dull and tiresome “conversation” with Nathir, he continued with his writing of documents. Adirous had been told to draft a bill that would address the deforestation in the Southern Sector, which meant that Rohad would take Adirous’ dough-like idea and turn it into a full, hearty loaf of fresh bread for the Council and the Dathir.

Mother knew very well that Adirous wasn’t the most up-to-par person when it came to lawmaking and people-pleasing, but he knew that Rohad was exceptional at it. Adirous preferred to wander in the forest, cutting down any spirit who dared cross his path. Unfortunately, Kayleth shared his sentiment, especially after Dama had died and Esli had been taken three months ago.

Rohad felt like he needed to release his grief in some way, perhaps by locking himself in his chambers, like his mother, or shouting and raging at everybody like Kayleth.

But he was unable to. Just like Estrada, who acted as if nothing were different. He continued on with his studies and reading, and he was content with that. On occasion, Adirous and Kayleth would pressure him into joining them on a hike or a hunt, where he would collect neither deer nor bird, but only plantlife to study in the palace’s laboratories. Maybe the seemingly immortal purple wildflowers that grew on graves, or the wild flowering grasses that seemed to sprout wherever his siblings downed game. However, Rohad did enjoy eating their catch over the fire at night, watching the stars, and pointing out various astronomical anomalies that could be seeped through the canopies of the trees that were older than the kingdom itself.

Rohad wished that he could be more expressive. He wished he could shout and rage and swear like his sister, without people he hardly knew telling him, “My word! Calm down, Datha! I wouldn’t expect such a soft-spoken man like you to have such a fierce tongue!”

It was exhausting.

Rohad didn’t want to be teased. He didn’t want for people to jest with him, even if they meant no harm. That was why he always spent his days in the library. He and the librarians had a mutual respect for each other. If Rohad didn’t tell his mother that they were copying manuscripts from the council meetings, they would let him stay in past curfew and draft bills in silence. They never spoke with each other, and they also never complained when Rohad occasionally played his violin when the room felt too claustrophobic.

However, there was one thing missing in his haven of words.

A little girl used to ask questions and scurry around his feet, asking, perhaps, how does the water filtration system work? Why does it need to be cleaned out? And who operates it? Esli was always so full of questions and Rohad was always happy to give answers. But it had been three months and four days since his littlest sister had tried to pull off his boots and steal his socks for some reason he would never know. He doubted he ever would, now. Esli was probably another rotting corpse lost in the vast forests of Tanvi, taken by an animal or starvation or sickness. It was likely that Dama had told her to run, unknowing that Esli would easily get lost in the ancient trees and undergrowth. Rohad knew that his father had been murdered. He and his twin sister had seen their mother cradle their father’s dead body and watched. Silent. Still pretending to be the

bribed guards that they had taken uniforms from.

Rohad had seen his cold, bootless feet as an annoyance when Esli still roamed the halls and asked thousands of questions in an hour. But now, he missed it. It was a funny thing. You found something irritating or annoying for a while, but when it’s gone, you want it back. It’s like your brain had already adjusted to having the little annoyance and then was not used to it not being there.

It had happened before with Rohad and Adirous when the two had shared a room. They had every reason to have their own rooms, but they preferred each other’s company. However, Rohad had decided to move out when Adirous started reciting his awful poetry that he was writing to woo some of the girls in court. He spoke every night, about the flowers in bloom and the shining moon. But then, Rohad had moved to the adjacent room, and his nights were no longer filled with maudlin doggerel that made his mind ache with all the revisions that could be made. The two had stayed in separate rooms after that, but Adirous still badgered him with his astoundingly awful poetry.

Now, Rohad wished that he could read some of the silly verses to Esli, anything to see her again. To see her tiny, sticky fingers pull at his horns as they walked through the halls to the library, to have her read a passage aloud for her homework so Rohad could revise it, or even for her to just fall asleep in his lap. Anything would do, as long as she was safe and nearby.

And Kayleth. By the gods, Kayleth. She had been going crazy since Dama’s death. She couldn’t sit still without announcing some controversial topic at state dinners, or without stomping out in the forest to go shoot any animal she could find.

Rohad was embarrassed by her actions. Her civility had always been subpar, at best, but now, it was sub-sub par. She shouted and swore, and nothing seemed to be able to knock her out of her fits of rage besides a quick smack to the head with Rohad’s book of poems that his Nami (grandfather) had written and read to Dama. Then, she’d collapse on the floor in a heap and Rohad would have to drag her sorry rear back up the four stories to her own room, and then get her some ice for the headache that she would have when she awoke.

He grew tired of dealing with his sister’s selfish ways of making everybody else miserable. Why did she always have to make a scene? Couldn’t she be quiet for once? Rohad didn’t know if it was even possible.

Now, Rohad had grown weary of his document. He rolled up the parchment and put the inkwell and pen in the drawer in the table. He wiped his ink-stained fingers on his trousers, something Estrada would probably get on to him for, and took the document. Rohad walked through the halls and aisles of the library, gazing at the leather- and wooden-bound books in their places. Soon enough, Rohad had exited the library and was making his way to his mother’s study.

He didn’t really know why he was going there. Maybe he was going to give the Dathir his bill? No, that would go to Adirous, who would then deliver it to the Council. So what was he doing?

Now, Rohad had no choice but to enter his mother’s study. Rohad gave a curt, three knocks on the door and a tired voice replied, “Enter.”

Rohad opened the door silently and closed it just as quietly. Ama sat at her dark, wooden desk with old candelabras lighting the room. Wax dripped silently from the stalactite-like candles on the wall. The window in the back of the room was covered by a heavy curtain, with only a few strings of light poking through like renegade hairs. It reminded Rohad of his own hair when he was going through his combat training. He was late almost every other day after getting inadequate sleep from spending his nights in the library. When he was late, he’d have to run two laps around the palace grounds, which left him with less time to spend in the library, which was rather counterproductive.

Now, Ama looked up. She smiled warmly. “Rohad. What brings you here?”

Now that Rohad had a better look, he saw that his Ama’s countenance and appearance were not in the queenly state as it was usually. Though she was smiling, it didn’t quite reach her eyes, and her eyes themselves were rimmed with red. Her hair wasn’t in it’s regal plait from her crown to her back, but cascading over her shoulders in a… well, Rohad could only describe as in a sad way. And he was quite articulate when needed.

Rohad tucked his hands behind his back and nodded once. “I would like to take a walk. I recommend you join me.”

Ama shook her head. “I apologize, my son, but I have much work to do. You know how difficult the Council is when–”

“I insist,” Rohad said, his eyes boring into his mother’s. Rohad was not one to push either his agenda or point on people, other than when absolutely necessary.

Ama raised a brow. “Do you?”

Rohad could feel the two parts of his brain warring against each other. The right side of his brain kept telling him to continue, that his mother needed to get out; she was growing weak without the soothing sunlight and graceful greenery. However, the left side argued that if he persisted, he would be chastised and argued against as well; his Ama could be more stubborn than Nama, his grandmother. The left side said that there would be consequences for an argument. However, his right side won out.

“Yes. I believe that it would be in your best interest to get out of the palace, even for a brief stint of time,” Rohad explained. Behind his back, he clicked his fingernails together, an annoying nervous habit he had kindled when he was young.

Ama nodded and put her feathered pen back in the inkwell. “I shall join you.”

Rohad nodded. “I await your arrival by the stables.”

Ama nodded and Rohad exited the room.

When Rohad saw his Ama, she was cleaned up, but not by much. Her hair was pulled into a simple braid down her back, and her robes were fresh.

“Are we set to go?” Ama asked as she neared.

Rohad flinched out of his stupor and held his basket a bit higher for Ama’s inspection. “I’ve planned a picnic.”

Ama’s face scowled. “I thought we were going on a hike.”

“We were. The plan has been altered. We can go to the River and sit there for a while,” Rohad said, stepping beside his mother and looking up at her to see her expression. His Ama was a good six inches taller than him.

Ama sighed and gestured forward. “On we go.”

The hike was quiet, save for the songs of the trees and the chirps of birds searching for their kin. The two royalty occasionally chatted about the various Council members and how well the public gardens were doing.

Soon, the flowing River Green came into view. There, Rohad draped his dark cloak on the drier part of the bank and arranged their picnic of sliced fruit and cheeses, a corked bottle of juice, and a sliced loaf of warm bread. Only an hour before, Rohad had raided the pantry, with the cook’s permission, of course. She might not give him his apples and cheese at midnight, and that was what kept him through the night.

They sat down lightly and Ama breathed in deeply. “I haven’t seen the river in–”

“Months?” Rohad guessed, smearing some soft cheese over a slice of bread.

“Yes,” she whispered, gazing into the river’s streaming depths. “Months.”

“Well,” Rohad said in a bout of confidence that was not suited for him, “we can see to that. I plan on going on a run in the mornings to clear my head and get ready for the day. Would you join me?”

Ama scowled. “I’d’ve thought that you would have wanted to go by yourself.”

“Well I did ask, didn’t I?” Rohad retorted, pouring himself a cup of juice.

Ama shrugged. “You normally prefer to be on your lonesome. I assumed that you would want to spend the morning in quiet.”

Rohad sipped his juice. He was planning to take his mother on a run every morning to get her out again. She needed it. It wasn’t good for a Nithe to spend all day inside a stone castle with no sunlight or greenery.

“Please, Ama?” Rohad asked, looking at his mother with slight puppy eyes and a knowing expression.

Eliza sighed, grabbing an apple slice. “Alright, then. I’ll join you.”

Rohad grinned as he ate his snack. His plan had worked.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Jared sat at his desk, a glass of red wine on a coaster by a candelabra. His plan was working perfectly. He had eliminated the witness of the Dathus’ abduction, had actually taken the Dathus, and now, he was going to erase her memory! Jared had heard all about the girl’s attempted escape and planned to make sure that she would never try it again.Jared rested his slippered feet on his desk, almost knocking over an inkwell while he did. He finished his wine and with a tap on the desk and a shout for a servant, a young human girl came scurrying in, another glass in hand.Jared mocked handing the girl the empty glass, and, to his delight, she actually believed it. Jared cackled when he smashed it against the girl’s still-soft hands. Jagged shards of glass and blood welled around her knuckles and she drew back, clutching her wounded appendages. “Well clean it up, girl! I’ll not have a dirty floor,” Jared said, expertly moving around the pile of broken glass. He enjoyed toying with the servants, especially the younger ones. He felt it better to break them early on.Jared exited his office easily, servants and guards either saluting or bowing as he passed them, and sometimes a combination of both. After a brief walk, he found his laboratory where Rona and the little Nithe girl were already waiting.When Jared entered, he saw the little girl try to hide behind Rona’s imposing, yet small, figure. Rona gently pulled the girl back to her place beside her. The girl quivered with fear as Jared approached.Jared grinned down at her and took another sip of his wine. “Hello, little girl. Are you ready for your procedure?”The girl looked down at the floor, unresponsive. Rona tapped her shoulder and the girl looked up at Jared, and with a pale green face, nodded.Jared dropped his glass on the floor and it broke with a cracking sound. The girl shrieked and leapt, but didn’t run. Jared grabbed her arm and steered her to the middle of the room, where chalk circles were drawn and candles stood at the north, south, west, and east. Jared preferred to say the cardinal directions differently than most people; it made them irritated.The girl stood in the innermost circle, shaking. Rona stood in the back of the room, her foot tapping the floor. Jared grinned again. Oh, this would be fun!Jared lit the candles took a ring of rope from a table near the door and stepped in the inner circle with the girl. He bound her hands with the thick rope and shoved her to the floor. She then started to protest against the bonds. Finally, Jared thought. It normally took people far less time to start protesting and whimpering during his magical experiments. It was astounding that a little girl exceeded some of his guards.Jared stepped out of the circles and started to recite his newly made spell.“ Giu’a pyee narci, kio giu’a’i pyis. Kaciuo yu, mikio koh, shuil alwio pocre narce moipil ashul shri’slu irs Marceth!” It wasn’t much, but it would work. And he quite liked the phrase, “lest your mind explode like many melons in June!” It was violent, but still very interesting.Suddenly, the girl started to scream, and Jared thought that she would die, just like most of the guards he had practiced on. However, she only screamed and clutched her head, howling like a banshee. The chalk circles glowed like embers and Jared smiled. It was working! The girl would believe that her parents were dead, and she could only stay here. Jared was proud of his ingenious move.Suddenly, the girl stopped writhing and lay still. Her eyes started to glow under her closed lids, and she started muttering something unintelligible. However, she soon stopped and Jared grinned. It had worked!He turned to Rona, who had started pacing in the back of the room. “Take the girl. I’ve finished.”With that, Jared stalked out of the room, his task complete. Now, he just needed a new glass of wine.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli had counted the days since she had been in the Fortress. One hundred and forty-three. She felt like she was waiting for something to happen. Or somebody to come…

But that wasn’t relevant. What was relevant, however, was the mass of ropes and pins that Esli was trying to unravel. Rona had told her to unravel the ropes and take the pins, which were, fascinatingly enough, hair pins, to Edith, the kindly nurse who had helped Esli when she had fallen in the ocean. Esli didn’t remember how, but she knew it was bad.

The silver pins were lodged in almost every crevice and nook, and Esli

needed

to pass this test. She had passed the last one in under three minutes, and she needed to get this one done in under that.

She started pulling out the pins and then started with a tight loop that looped over the end of the rope. She tried to pry it away from the end, but it was futile. It wouldn’t give. Then, she tried the other side. Thankfully,

that

side worked.

Soon, the rope was neatly wrapped together in a loose ball on Esli’s right side, opposite the pins. With a grin, Esli gathered her new things. She pocketed all of the pins, as she always did, and rushed down the hall to the infirmary.

When she arrived, Edith was at her desk, as usual, writing something down. With a grin, Esli dropped the mass of pins on her desk and beamed up at Edith, waiting for her kind praise.

Edith smiled down at Esli, who grinned at her with her missing front tooth. Rona said that she would have about four to seven sets of teeth in her life, and she was just losing the first.

“Well done, young one! Here you go, have a candy.” Edith handed Esli a hard, caramel candy that was so rich, it made Esli cough sometimes. However, Esli relished the sweet goodness of the hard candy, never wanting it to fade.

Edith scooped up her hairpins and patted Esli on the head. “I believe Rona is in the training grounds. You’ll find her there.”

With that, Esli raced off to go find Rona.

Esli found the woman in her tight-fitting shirt (Rona had said that it had been like a loose blouse when she had first joined Jared. After she had had her son, she wasn’t as thin), sparring with the captain of the guard. With deft movements, Rona skirted around him, but when he had cornered her, she made a hard jab to right under his ribs and he buckled, toppling over and clutching his stomach.

Rona helped the man up and they continued for a while before the man looked to the guard patrolling the area and sighed. “We’ve got to go interrogate that prisoner.”

Rona sighed and stood up straight, out of her fighting stance. “Really? I thought we had an hour.”

“Well, Jared waits for no one.”

“Obviously,” was Rona’s curt reply. She shrugged on her overshirt and followed the captain back inside the Fortress.

Esli had watched Rona interact with the other people in the fortress and saw that she treated most people with cruel indifference. The guards, the patrols, all except the servants. She treated the servants with kindness. And in return, they told Rona when she would have a surprise inspection of the apartment, just to make sure that she wasn’t planning an escape or anything against the “rules”. The “rules” were basically whatever Jared said, whether he had them written down or not. He changed them frequently, much to everybody’s annoyance.

Rona and the captain started making their way to the dungeons from the training grounds, which led them through twisting turns in the vast amount of halls and through many rooms that Esli had never seen.

Esli followed along, far behind them and still carrying her bundle of wrapped ropes. Occasionally, Rona and the captain would absentmindedly chat, maybe of the weather, or perhaps the minimum wage, which Esli learned was ridiculously low.

Esli didn’t know what the minimum wage was.

She also didn’t know how to do multiplication, so…

Or division.

Or the origins of the Continents.

Yeah, she ought to be focusing on her studies right then, but she was nosy.

One, Esli heard her name in their small talk. Well, the captain said “the girl”, so Esli assumed it was her.

“What’s Jared’s plan for the little girl?” the captain asked, nodding in dismissal to a bowing servant passing by.

“That’s above your pay grade,” Rona said. They both stopped to let a group of servants carrying laundry pass by. Esli was just passing a corner when they did, and almost kept going, where Rona would’ve been sure to see her.

Rona peered behind her shoulder quizzically, and Esli thought that she

had

seen her. The captain turned around as well and asked what she was looking at. Rona dismissed him with a defensive growl and the captain repeated his question.

“Well? What’s she going to be used for? Jared doesn’t keep anything if it doesn’t serve a purpose.”

Rona sighed but said nothing. The two adults then went down a winding staircase and Esli followed silently after. With no corner or curtain to hide behind, she could only rely on her silence, which Rona had told her was legendary. Esli didn’t really believe her; whenever she walked, she could always hear herself.

Soon, the staircase slimmed to only where one person could walk through at a time. The captain scrunched in his shoulders and ducked down so as not to hit his head on the ceiling and said, “Why do we always have to use this entrance? Doesn’t Jared have a bigger one?”

“Oh, would you cease your complaints? If you tell Jared that you’re tired of this minuscule entrance, you’ll be promoted as a minion of the gods; meaning you’ll be

dead,

calmly sitting at their right hands in the Underworld
,” Rona said.

Esli could almost see her brow furrow as she said it. Rona had told Esi right from the very beginning of her stay that she needed to be attentive, and Esli had been. Rona’s brow furrowed when she chastised somebody, and her teeth visibly clenched when she met and spoke with Jared.

Another thing Esli had noticed was that the spirits didn’t seem to eat. Jared had a combination of men and spirits in his army and navy, all of them completely devoted to him. Esli didn’t know why, but they were. The men ate in abundance, every morning, afternoon, and evening, and so did Rona. Esli normally ate in the mornings and evenings, as she never really felt the need to eat in the afternoons when Rona did. Then again, Esli was green and Rona wasn’t.

Torches started to line the already slimming hall and the captain had to duck down even further. Rona still walked normally, occasionally dodging a far-reaching torch. Esli didn’t know how they stayed lit all the time. She had been in the dungeons only once before. She and Edith were playing hide and seek and Esli had followed the staircase down. She didn’t go too far, but she did see a pair of dark shackles. They were shining with some sort of liquid, but it was too dark for Esli to decipher what it was.

Finally, Rona and the captain reached the end of the staircase and Esli paused to make sure that they wouldn’t see her. They went through the short but wide hall and Esli followed slowly. Along the walls, there were rooms with rusted bars covering them. Inside the rooms, Esli could just barely make out chains and iron shackles, some of them darker than others. In one, Esli saw an eerie sight: a mauled and bloodied arm of someone

sat, shackles still hanging from its’ emaciated wrist. Esli shivered at the flies that hovered and buzzed around it. She saw a scraggly and thin rat scurry up to the arm and pull off one of the fingers with a

snap!

Esli grimaced and ran back up to meet Rona and the captain.

They were starting to walk through rooms—no,

cells—

that were inhabited. Thin, dirty arms and pleading faces poked through them, begging and pleading to be let free. Or, in most cases, to get something to eat or drink. The people inside were thin, too thin to be healthy, and dirty rags hung from their bodies, like leeches clinging to skin. As Esli passed, their gnarled fingers reached for her, some begging, “You girl! Please, couldn’t you spare us a bit of food? Some clean water? No, come back! Don’t fear, girl–”

But Esli skittered away from the bars, but there were people to her left and right. As she ran away from the left, a hand grabbed her from the right, tugging her shirt closer to the bars. An old man with scraggly and matted grey hair hissed at her from rotting, black teeth, “Where are you going, girl? Come to give us something good to eat?”

He tried to pull Esli

inside

the cell—and Esli was probably small enough to fit, to be honest—but she grabbed the end of the rope she carried and snapped it at him, and he reared backward, clutching his face where Esli had hit him.

“Stupid rat! What’s wrong with you?” he roared, trying to grab Esli again. Esli dropped the rope and ran. This time, however, she was far out of reach, close behind Rona but still not making a sound.

Esli was surprised that Rona didn’t notice Esli with the prisoners asking for the little girl to get them out, or bring them some water. Soon, the clammer died down and Esli followed Rona and the captain through another tight-fitting hall and then found a larger room, the walls lined with old bricks. A man lay writhing on a stained table, his hands bound to the table with rusted bands. Blood rimmed the bonds at his wrists and ankles. A few spirits were huddled in a corner, murmuring gleefully and making jabbing motions.

Jared stood in front of them, his hands behind his back and his artful tunic seemingly too bright for the eerie atmosphere. He had a stern yet peaceful look on face that Esi hated.

Esli didn’t know why, but she

hated

Jared. He always seemed to walk too slow, or his smile was too wide, or his words too honeyed and obviously insincere. He was just annoying. Esli didn’t know how else to describe it.

Rona and the captain bowed low as they entered, and Esli hid behind the doorway, barely able to see.

**
 
Esli had been forbidden from

ever

going in the dungeons, by both Edith and Rona, and she wanted to see why. The encounter with the old man in the cell who had grabbed her still shook her, but the people couldn’t have been the worst thing there, right?

Jared grinned even wider—how was that possible? Esli hadn’t known any other Nithe besides him and he always seemed to make her impression of their species

very

bad—and said, “Rona, would you do the honors?”

Rona sighed and pulled one of her wickedly sharp knives out of her belt. She turned to the man on the table, who was still writhing and had sweat pouring off his face.

“Alright then. What’d you take and why?” Rona asked the man, hovering over his head with the knife in hand. The spirits in the back of the room started conversing animatedly, but Esli still couldn’t understand what they were saying.

“I- I- I didn’t steal nothin’! Nothin’, I swear!” the man cried, still trying to escape his bonds.

“Then why try to escape?” the captain asked. He pulled out a serrated blade that Esli had seen Rona use to cut bread with.

“‘Cause you’ll kill me anyway! Please, sirs, just lemme go!” the man on the table begged, a stray tear leaking from his eye.

What was going on?

And why were the spirits so happy?

Just like Esli’s feelings for Jared, Esli had a severe dislike for the spirits as well. They floated through the halls of the Fortress, never making a sound. And when they did, they always seemed to be calling Esli rude things, like “Horn head” and “Trophy skull”. Esli didn’t know what they meant, but she felt that they weren’t used in a positive tense. Also, they sometimes randomly wandered into Rona and Esli’s living room. Once, they were practicing with wooden swords not three days ago, an odd spirit wandered in, muttering about violins, gold, and mountains.

He left soon after, but still. They were weird.

The man on the table turned to Jared. “Please, sir! I didn’t do any’thin’! I- I was just an innocent stander by an’–”

Jared slammed his hand on an empty space on the table and it reverberated throughout the room. “You

dare

speak to me, you lowly man?” He turned to the captain and hissed, “Do it.”

The man on the table screamed, “No, no, I didn’ do anything wrong! I was jus’ there–”

The man broke off into a scream as the captain sheathed his knife, but took his sword, and, with one swift stroke, cut three of his fingers clean off. The spirits rushed forward, each taking one for themselves.

And, to Esli’s absolute horror, one by one, they each broke their allotted fingers into three pieces and popped them in their mouths, just like the caramel candy Edith would give Esli.

Esli felt a roiling sea of disgust and horror roll through her body and felt acidic vomit well up in her throat. She turned away for fear that she might make her presence known. The man continued screaming, a deep, guttural scream that made Esli’s hair stand up on end. And he kept going.

The captain asked, “Who took it, hmm? It’s an easy question.”

“I don’t know! I swear, cut my throat and eat my liver! I wasn’t there!” he sobbed. Esli heard the spilling blood drop to the floor like a leaky faucet. She clenched her eyes closed but couldn’t bring herself to leave.

“I’ll do it again, you know,” the captain whispered, barely audible, “I’ll take the other one and you’ll never be able to use those clever fingers again.”

The man on the table burbled something unintelligible through his tears and snot.

“What was that?” Jared asked, leaning forward innocently.

“Please, I’m sorry–” the man started, but Jared waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, for gods’ sake, man! I don’t have the

time

or the

energy

for useless and baseless apologies! Just… cut his throat and be done with it,” Jared ordered, striding out of the room from a door behind the spirits. The spirits followed after him, chatting nonsense about various sauces to make with their… morsels.

With a quick motion, the captain took his shortsword and sliced the man’s soft skin around his throat, as if it were smooth jelly. The man’s blood burbled immediately from the wound, a dark crimson that looked black in the dark room. The man kept trying to scream but his efforts were in vain. In only a few short moments, he stopped writhing on the table and went still, his face starting to pale from blood loss.

The captain turned to Rona, who was stepping away from his head in disgust. “Why didn’t you do it?”

“You beat me to the chase,” she said coldly. Rona sidestepped the leaking blood and strode out of the room. Esli saw the blood on the floor trickle down the one step that led to the room and flow toward her.

**
 
Rona made her way towards Esli, looking only in front of her and not down. For a moment, Esli thought that Rona might not see her, but, like the dead man’s pleas, her hopes were for naught. Rona grabbed her collar and yanked her in front of her fast-walking form, and Esli had to jog to avoid being trampled by her.

They went back up the stairs, and when they were once again in the somewhat light of the fortress, Esli saw bloody footprints following Rona and her as they walked. She hoped it wouldn’t be too hard on the servants.

Rona forcefully guided Esli back to the apartment, and Esli could practically feel the anger and panic radiating from Rona in waves.

When Rona finally closed the door behind them, she locked it twice and leaned her head against the wooden frame, breathing deeply. Esli started to speak, but Rona held up a hand to silence her. Esli quieted and suddenly found her now-bloody boots very interesting.

“Esli,” Rona started, “

what were you doing?

”

“I- um. What do you want me to say?” Esli asked. Since her time in the fortress, Esli had learned that different answers would mean different responses, but with Rona, Esli was able to ask what kind of answer she wanted. With anybody else, Esli would have to read their expression or their tone to figure out if she needed to act meek and mild or strong and defiant. It was usually the former.

Rona sighed. “An honest one.”

Esli sat down on the floor heavily, and Rona followed suit. “I was finished with my test, and I returned Edith’s hair pins, and I went to find you. But you were with the captain and I didn’t want to disturb you. So I followed you because I didn’t know where you would be next,” Esli rambled. Her eyes suddenly welled with tears. Why? Why did she

just

start crying?

Rona scooted forward and used the hem of her shirt as a handkerchief to dab away Esli’s tears. “Quiet now, it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me now. I don’t mind.”

Esli wiped away her tears with a firm palm and sniffed. “I’m sorry–”

Rona tutted and

shh

ed her. “Quiet. I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry to say that you’ll see it again. But right now, how about we make some tea and have dinner, hmm? Do toasted sandwiches and juice sound good?”

Esli fiddled with the hem of her pants and looked up at Rona, who had a caring look on her face. She nodded and Rona helped her up and guided her back to her own room.

That night, Rona had read a nice, fluffy story to her with a happy ending and absolutely

no

scary or sad bits. After a nice dinner of toasted ham and cheese sandwiches with the valuable apple juice that Rona had bought not three days ago, Esli scurried off to bed with her brow furrowed.

She snuggled deep into her blankets and prayed to Ebrar—from whom Esli was descended, she had learned, as all Nithe were—that she wouldn’t see anything like that again. But, apparently, it seemed that Ebrar wasn’t so merciful. That night, Esli dreamt of the bloodied man with no fingers kneading a ball of dough, something Esli had seen Rona do countless times, but his streaming blood was leaking into the dough, streaking and

staining the pale dough with a bright crimson. He smiled and laughed, but made no comment to his injury. When he took the fresh loaf out of the oven, Esli saw his fingers chopped up into tiny pieces, the jagged nails in various places.

Esli awoke with a start, her heart pounding. Her brain started to tell her that that wasn’t real, that the man with no fingers was just a frightening figment of her imagination, but she realized all too soon that it wasn’t.

Then, for the first time out of three, Esli crawled out of bed and tiptoed to Rona’s room. The door creaked open as it always did, alerting Rona of Esli's presence. Esli looked up at her guardian in the dark with soft eyes and Rona sighed, edging to the other side of the bed to give Esli some room.

Esli didn’t dream again that night.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli stood still, feeling very awkward as she held a heavy throwing knife in one hand. One hundred and sixty-seven days was how long she had been on the fortress. Now, Rona had decided it was time to see if she

actually

do something.

Only four days ago, Esli had learned that her future career path would be

assassin

. She didn’t know what it meant, but apparently it involved throwing knives.

A stuffed target was put in the back of Esli’s room, and Rona sat on the bed, directing Esli’s actions.

“It’s going to go head over tail, and you want it to connect with the head, obviously. Now go again,” Rona instructed.

Esli sighed. Her arm hurt. She had poked her hand on a knife blade when she had gone to pick it up. Rona had bandaged her hand, but it still hurt. And her shoulders hurt. Esli hardly

ever

did physical exercises besides running through the hall of the Fortress. And even with that, she made sure to avoid any of the guards. And, much to Esli’s dismay, Rona had decided that she would need to walk up the guard tower staircase in preferably ten minutes. Esli couldn’t do that! The guard tower was huge! Even against Esli protests, Rona still held firm in her decision. Now, Esli was dreading the next few minutes when she was bound to hit the target.

Esli threw the weighty knife again and

this

time, it hit the target, even if it did fall off a second later. Esli sighed. She hated stairs.

Rona stood from her spot on the bed and turned to Esi. “You’re getting better, as expected. How about we go a few more times before tackling the guard tower?”

Esli almost sighed in relief. She was spared a few more minutes.

Anything

to prolong the inevitable. She continued to throw and pick up the fallen knives, and continued to frown with displeasure when the butt of the knife hit instead of the point. Rona, however, seemed delighted with her progress. When three knives stuck out of the rectangular shaped dummy, each nowhere near close to each other. Rona had said that she would want to stick with precision before she started with accuracy.

Just as Esli was pulling her arm back to throw, Rona touched her elbow. “Let’s take a break, shall we? I believe lunch is soon to be had.”

Esli nodded and picked up the fallen knives on the floor. Later, the two had a lovely lunch of warm, brothy soup and fresh bread that Rona had procured from the kitchens.

After lunch, the pair made their way to the tallest guard tower. The door was manned by a glowing-green spirit that had a naturally evil look in its’ eye. Rona glared at the spirit and it cowered, but that didn’t stop it from yanking on Esli’s hair as she passed.

Rona stopped at the beginning of the circling staircase and looked down at Esli. A moment passed before Rona said, “I think I’ll join you.”

“Really?” Esli asked, surprised. She had expected Rona to leave her there and wait by the door with a book, or maybe in the apartment, cleaning up a little and patching up the dummy they had used.

Rona nodded with a grin. “You just need to be able to keep up.”
 
The view from the guard tower left Esli breathless. She could see the spanning forests behind the Fortress, where everybody was forbidden from going. Their canopies were a beryl swath of blankness, never-ending and monotonous.

A guard stood by the staircase, his and resting on his sword which hung from his belt. Rona leant against the stone railing of the tower and looked towards the bleak mass of trees.

“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Rona asked, looking down to Esli with a smile.

“I can’t really see.”

“Oh– yeah, sorry.” Rona picked Esli up under her arms, and Esli got a better view of the forest. She had seen the tip of green forest, but now, the huge forest almost spanned the entire length of the horizon. She hadn’t expected the area to be so

big.

“Wow,” she muttered. She could feel the breeze from the ocean, a whiff of salty water meeting her senses. Rona put her back down on the stone floor and grinned down at her again. She seemed to be in a very grinny mood.

“Pretty cool, right?” Rona said, but suddenly, her grin faded.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Esli asked, her brow furrowed at Rona’s sudden change in mood.

Rona turned to the guard who was

still

standing by the staircase. “Leave us,” she ordered, and the guard silently tiptoed down the stairs.

Rona looked down at Esli with a sigh. “You’ve got to know the facts. I don’t want to keep secrets from you, kid. I told you that your going to be an assassin, right? Do you know what that means?”

Esli shook her head tentatively.

Rona sighed. “An assassin kills people. They kill who they are paid to kill.”

“Oh.”

Hmm.

Interesting.

Oh, wait a minute–

“

What?

”

Rona’s eyes widened. “Yeah, let’s not freak out. I’d be very concerned as well, but we need to calm down–”

“I don’t see how this is a ‘we’ situation!”

Rona patted her shoulder. “Well, you know, it’ll be a while before you ever get to that part, so you’ve got time to make peace with yourself. Think of it this way: you’re just letting them go into a long, restful sleep from which they will wake up to all the splendors of the world. Does that sound better?’

“I guess?”

“Good! How about we go back down and practice your aim again? You could use some improvement,” Rona smiled gently and stared down the stairs again.

Esli was

horrified.

Some internal part of herself screamed at her, telling her that this was terrible, you were a doomed person, you’re going to have to kill people and you won’t be able to say no. Another part told her to calm down, that she wouldn’t have to near that part of her future occupation for years. She simply needed to calm down, and accept the fact that her life might be miserable. She needed to accept that. She had Rona, didn’t she? Esli felt that Rona cared about her. She was teaching Esli about the world, about mathematics and astrology. Well, they hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but Rona had told Esli that they were going to cover it soon. And anyway, if Rona could do the job, why couldn’t Esli? When she grew up, she’d be able complete her tasks that would be given to her with little thought. And anyway, death was simply…

death.

There seemed to be only one reason to fear it, and that was because you had more goals to complete. So, in Esli’s mind, she decided that it would be alright. She pushed away the part of her that told that this was innately

wrong

, and followed Rona down the stairs. The knives weren’t going to throw themselves.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The inkwell was empty. The pen’s tip had broken. The parchment was torn. The lamp blown out.

But still. Eliza sat at her desk. Needing to work, to accomplish, to

do

, but nothing came. It had been five months since her daughter had been. Five months since her husband had died. And five months she had done nothing but wallow in her sorrow. She had not comforted her children. In fact, she hardly saw them. She believed that they were making a group effort to rule in her stead. Maybe Adirous was the Dathor Regent, or maybe Estrada ordered around the people who worked in that palace, organizing parties and celebrations like Eliza was supposed to be doing. Maybe Rohad was expertly writing documents and statements, and getting Plyis and Kayleth to forge her signature. They had an uncanny knack for mischief and Eliza was thinking that it was finally being put to good use. Eliza’s time of mourning had ended a while back. She was expected to regain control of her emotions and be the Dathir that her kingdom needed. But she couldn’t.

Her thoughts strayed to her children. Oh, she knew that they were doing a wonderful job of helping the people and paying wages and soothing the Council’s still-frayed nerves. Well, she thought so. There were no angry mobs at her window, or ruddy-faced Councilors coming to say something. Eliza and Taious had raised their children well, she knew. They were perfectly capable of ruling in her stead. But she worried. She was always worried. Since the day Adirous had come into the world to that very moment, worry rested on her heart like a lead anvil. She wanted her children safe, and if they were calling the shots, making the decisions that people might not like, ordering people around, were they safe? But even more important, were they happy?

Eliza didn’t know. Rohad had asked her to join him on his walks through the woods not two months ago. But she hadn’t come, save for one day. Rohad hadn’t tried to convince her to come again afterward. Eliza guessed that his confidence had been depleted.

Awaking her from her thoughts, a knock sounded at her door. Eliza pulled her hair behind her back and smoothed it over the top of her head and said, “Come in!”

The door opened to reveal Nathir, whose hands were held impassively behind his back. He smiled warmly. “Your Majesty,” he said, stepping inside, “we need to speak.”

Eliza smiled. Nathir was a good friend of hers. “What is it Nathir? Come to tell me the flowers are in bloom?”

Nathir’s smile turned tight, but he sat down anyway. “Your Majesty, may I be frank?”

Eliza nodded slowly. “Go on, Nathir, you’ve always been honest.”

Nathir nodded in agreement and said, “Eliza, I believe that you need to get out more.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Nathir, I am perfectly fine, thank you very much. And it’s just so

warm

outside. I’d heat to death!”

Nathir scowled. “It’s 12℃ outside. You’ll live.”

Eliza frowned. She seemed to be making all sorts of negative expressions today. “If I got out, you promise you’ll let me back in?”

Nathir nodded solemnly. “Cut my throat and eat my liver. You’ll come back inside when you want to.”

Eliza sighed and stood from her desk. “I’ll be there in a moment.”
**
Nathir did

not

keep his promise.

Eliza had taken a stroll through the garden and spoken with the trees, learning that Estrada had been speaking with the public and Rohad was writing new documents and papers. She also learned that Plyis hadn’t poured custard on anybody in a full two months, which Eliza found concerning. However, the trees had nothing to say about Kayleth, which was even more concerning.

When Eliza tried to open the door of the garden, she found that it was locked. Now, Eliza simply sat in the boughs of a tree, listening to the birdsong with a scowl. Then, the door opened and a person walked in. It was Estrada, wearing a thin circlet on her head and a flowing gown. She looked around in confusion for a moment before finding Eliza in her tree.

“Oh! Ama, what are you doing in here?” she asked.

Eliza sighed and patted a branch beside her. “Come here.”

“Oh, I’m okay–”

“Just a second, I’ll come to you,” Eliza said and fumbled down the tree. It was much more difficult to get down than to get up, Eliza realized. She hadn’t climbed trees since her father died, and she was made Dathir.

“Um, Ama, I don’t think that’s a good idea–”

Eliza fell on her face.

The grass wasn’t the tastiest thing she’d ever had.

In fact, it wasn’t very tasty at all.

Eliza stood shakily, leaning against the rough bark of the tree. Her dark hair had completely flown over her horns and her head and was just hanging in front of her eyes like a curtain. Eliza looked around at Estrada, and, through the streaky haze, she saw that her eldest daughter was doubled over with laughter. This event caused Eliza to start laughing as well, a jovial cackle that everybody thought strange.

“Ama, you are so

impulsive

,” Estrada said, still grinning as she strode over to her mother.

Eliza poked Estrada in the ribs. “Where do you think you get it?”

Estrada raised a brow and tilted her head at Eliza, and Eliza did the same. They both started laughing again.

“Come on, let’s go back up the tree,” Eliza said, already searching for her previous foothold.

“How about we just sit down? Or maybe we could go pick the flower in the garden?" Estrada suggested.

Eliza stopped her pathetic-looking climbing and followed her daughter through the garden, looking at the buds of soon-to-be vegetables and fruits. A few ornamental flowers stood along the east and west walls, as if they were standing guard over the rest of the edible fruits. Bushes of different herbs and edible flowers lined the walls as well. Small patches of mint stood beside the roses, and hibiscus trees stood solemn behind the roses. Little growths of thyme and rosemary were at the corners of everything, and the open back wall had trellises full of grapes and tomatoes. To complete the entire garden, a rocky stream (Which had been built specifically for the garden) flowed in a loop through the whole thing. The water was completely drinkable, and Eliza and Estrada stopped to have some. They fiddled with a few buds of the plants and discreetly hit them behind their respective bushes if (or when) they happened to fall off.

A bench had been made by the stream and the two sat down and watched the water burble in silence. “So how have things been?’ Estrada asked.

Eliza sighed deeply. “Tiring. Long, too short. Worrisome. All in all, it could be better.”

Estrada nodded. “Yeah. Worrisome, indeed. You know, Rohad lost his last pair of boots. He’s going to have to go to the cobbler to get some more.”

Eliza sighed and leaned against the back of the bench. “That boy can’t talk to a soul. I reckon Kayleth’s going with him.”

Estrada snorted and copied her mother. “Oh, yes. He won’t let her out in the woods without him, and she won’t let him out in town without her. Oh, and anyway, you should join the twins on their excursion into town. They’ll like it. And they’ll also ask you to buy a lot of sweets.”

Eliza nodded. “I do need to get out more. Suffice to say, I’ve been staying inside for too long. I need to see the people. And more importantly, I need to see you–”

Estrada put a finger to her mother’s mouth. “Calm yourself, Ama!” Estrada took a deep breath. “Everybody grieves in their own ways. Adirous doesn’t leave his room often, and, from what I’ve heard, Rohad is exploring astronomy." She paused. "What I’m getting at Ama, is that nobody is the same. We all process emotions differently and have different directions to loss. You can’t control what your brain decides to do or think. You’ve told me that

plenty

of times. Now, stop being a hypocrite and accept that you might need to get help. I’ve helped Adirous with cleaning his swords—however boring it was—when he asked, and Plyis helped Kayleth organize the Guard. We’ve all been helping people, Ama, but I think that we’ve left out the most important one: you.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

One hundred and eighty-nine days.

That was

a lot

of days.

Esli didn’t really know why she was counting, but she was. Maybe she was counting so she would know when a shipment of cargo from the Heath. That’s what Rona called the closest continent. She said it was all barren rock and sand, with many rocky and unstable mountains. At every sunset, Esli tried to look out of any window she could find and peer as close as she could, just

hoping

to get a view at those dry mountains and rocky shores. Unfortunately, all she ever got was a small reprimand from a servant who told her not to look directly at the sun, or a scold from Rona about the distance from the Island to any continent being very large, and that there was no way for either of them to see the shore.

However, whenever Esli looked eastward, she saw nothing but the rising sun or looming darkness of night. She wanted to know what was to the east. She knew that to the north, there were glaciers and large, blinding-white flats of snow, and to the south, there were a few more islands before reaching

more

snow and ice. However, there were also a few types of animals at both ends, which fascinated Esli. How could

anything

live with that much snow? But even with her questions about the north and South, the East and West fascinated her. More specifically the West. While she knew that there were only dry rocks and maybe the occasional burrowing snake, nobody told her what lay to the west. Rather, it would be different answers. Rona said vengeful tribes of monsters lived in the land, but Edith said that it was like the Heath, only instead of high mountains, the coasts were lined with smoky volcanoes. Esli never dared to ask Jared what he thought. She didn’t want to see his angry face or scary cackle.

However, most of the time, Esli wanted to go somewhere. As time went on, Esli found that she wanted to go somewhere other than Glasses’ shop to look at the colorful bottles of poison and pretty soaps. She was growing tired of the butcher in the center of town, who would always give her funny looks and whisper things to his workers. Rona had yelled at him once for his mutterings, but he hadn’t stopped. Esli didn’t even know what he was saying. And, the worst of all, there wasn’t even a fern in sight.

Esli distantly remembered that she

really

liked plants and green growths, but as of yet, she had only seen grass and shriveled shrubs almost everywhere. Well, besides the strange forest that was forbidden from entering. But whenever Esli neared the northern part of the Fortress, she heard whispers. Like somebody was talking to her. It felt different than when Rona spoke to her or Edith. It felt like both a kind word and a shoulder to lean on. But the thing was, there was nobody there. And talking trees were fake; only a fool would believe in talking trees.

But now, as Esli stared at the piece of paper at the table, she thought about the talking trees again. The Fortress walls to the north were the farthest north anybody on the island was allowed to go, so there couldn’t be anybody beyond the wall. So were the trees actually speaking? Esli stared at her paper again. The little numbers seemed to be all jumbled together in a ridiculous scrawl. Esli could read perfectly fine, but these numbers always seemed to be giving her trouble, especially when she had stayed inside for a while.

It had seemed that with every inside lesson and inside practice, Esli’s ability to solve those boring math equations and correctly read numbers and sometimes symbols grew worse. She had told Rona that she had wanted to practice outside, that the sunlight would help her do better in her work. But, alas, her request had been denied because Rona had claimed that with the physical training going on outside, it could be dangerous.

Soon, the math problems grew to be too difficult for Esli’s squirming mind. She dropped the pen back in the inkwell and shoved the paper away, hoping that when Rona came back, she would give her something else to do.

But Esli didn’t really want to do something else. In fact, she didn’t want to do anything. She just wanted to not have a test or… something to do. She wanted to go to the tiny playground in the center of town or go play at the small stretch of beach where there weren’t any docks. Anything to get out of the Fortress and do

something else.

With a sigh, Esli stood from the low table and slipped on her shoes by the door. She quietly walked through the halls of the Fortress and was happy to see that the servants paid her no mind. Rona had said that she would need to practice her “stealth”. Esli didn’t know what that meant until Edith told her that it just meant sneakiness.

Halls passed, stairways flew by, and doorways blurred together as Esli flitted about the Fortress. She enjoyed not being seen. Recently, as Esli began seeing more guards around the Fortress, she began to feel more hesitant about running through the halls and skipping downstairs. The guards’ eyes seemed to follow her as she made her way around, and it was unnerving. It was like they were waiting for any misstep, anything to go wrong. And sometimes, they spoke to her. But it wasn’t a nice speech, though. They told her to go running back to the forest, or go talk to the fish in the ocean, or make a fire with her eyes. But Esli couldn’t make fire with her eyes, neither could she go to the forest nor speak with the fish. It confused her to no end.

But now, as Esli pranced through the halls, hardly any of the guards noticed her. It was only the quiet ones who seemed to trance her through the stone corridors. Esli had noticed that the louder and more jeering the guard, the less he noticed. Also, there were no female guards. It seemed that the only women in the Fortress were the ones in the infirmary, Rona and Esli, and maybe some in the dungeons. And speaking of jeering, the guards jeered at Rona a

lot

. They’d whistle or give stupid comments about her as she passed them by. Once, Esli had seen Rona slam one of the guards against the wall, and give him a square punch to the nose. Rona, who apparently had a higher status than the guards, ordered his counterpart to leave him and let him suffer for his actions.

The other guard, who was one of the Quiet Ones, had nodded respectfully and glared at the other man who was cradling his broken nose on the floor.

Esli divided the people of the Fortress into many categories, the broader of which were the Nice People and the Mean People. The Nice People were usually the quiet guards, the nurses and doctors in the infirmary, the cooks in the kitchens, and the people who cleaned up after fights in the arena, or just plain old messes around the Fortress. The Mean People were usually the guards, the gardeners—which surprised Esli—and the various people who seemed to be of important status who visited Jared often. However, there were exceptions to these categories. A few guards might let her get away with sneaking a candy from the kitchens when everybody was asleep, a gardener might give her a little wildflower, or one of the important people might give her a warm smile and tell her she looked nice in her little formal robes and dresses. And sometimes, the cooks were mean, and would shoo her out of the kitchen with a dripping spoon. And sometimes, there was this one doctor in the infirmary, whose name was Doctor Infa, who would always scowl down at Esli or tell her that she was stupid for scraping her knee. She

hated

Doctor Infa.

Now, there were two deeper categories of Nice People and Mean People, of these people Esli had names. The Nice nurses were Edith, who would give her candy, Azalea, who would tell her funny jokes, and Venus, who would show her how to make animals with bath towels. The Nice guards were Adi, who would whistle happy tunes and gave Esli a tiny harp, and Lika, who told Esli which fruits from the garden would be ripe and when. The Nice cooks were Arma, who let her eat the leftover batter from desserts, and Ozus, who let her make designs in the leftover flour after rolling dough. The Nice cleaner was Joppie, who let her blow bubbles in the soap he used.

The Mean guards were Anui, who had shoved Esli down a few stairs, Pitha, who repeatedly told Esli that her knife skills were “trash”, and Truis, who Esli just thought looked, breathed, and spoke funny. He looked at her funny, too. The Mean doctor was Doctor Infa, whom Esli had seen go down into the dungeons with Jared and then she heard screaming all that night. The Mean gardeners were Jako and his geese (Jako would release the geese whenever Esli stepped on the manicured grass), and Basy, who threatened to cut off her toes and fingers with his pruning shears. Finally, the Mean important people were almost without count, but the Meanest was the Lady Goswing, who had a scrawny, disgusting looking with a pointed nose and beady eyes and shriveled whiskers. Goswing would

purposefully

let the dog out of her arms to let it go chase Esli when she came into sight. And the dog’s barks were a high pitch, which hurt Esli’s ears to no end. Rona had said that the terrible animal’s barks were normal, but Esli’s ears hurt and rang every time the thing opened its mouth.

Then, the Meanest Person was Jared. Jared was just terrible. Whenever he would pass her in the halls—on the rare occasion that he did—he would scowl and tell her to walk faster, or some other rude thing. And the Nicest Person was Li. Li gave Esli candies from the storerooms that they guarded, and they also let Esli help dye their hair. They had to redo the dye almost every month because they said that they always got the cheapest dyes. Esli’s hands were always stained afterward, though.

Rona had her own category just for herself, and that category was Guardian. Rona was her guardian. She took care of Esli and taught her her numbers and her history, and made sure she was fed and well-kept and not running around in old boots whose soles flapped and clacked on the floor. She had done that before, and Rona had to take her to the cobbler to get them fixed and also got her a larger pair.

Now, Esli skipped through the stone halls and felt slightly… closed in. It felt like the walls were getting closer. Esli had never liked the stone-brick walls of the Fortress, but now, it felt agonizing to stay inside. Esli’s skipping turned into frantic running as she raced through the halls, trying to escape the tightening walls. What was going on? Why were the walls closing in? What did she do to make this happen?

Then, Esli heard whispering. Dark, eerie whispering.

Hello.

Join us, Naris.

The forest beckons.

Come see us.

We have tea.

“Tea?” Esli whispered in her confusion. That was an odd bribe.

Yes, Naris.

Tea with honey and cream.

We are to the north.

Come see us.

We want to see you.

We have a friend.

They await you.

Anxiously.

Esli stopped running and leaned against a wall that still felt too small. She liked tea with honey. But somebody waiting for her? Edith had told her about Stranger Danger. She didn’t want to risk Stranger Danger, especially with how dangerous Edith had told her it was. And going north? She wasn’t going to dare that.

Well, why not?

Yes, it’s only a place,

Afterall.

Come, join us.

We have tea.

“Please be quiet,” Esli asked slowly, starting a slow walk down a hall again. She passed a yellow and red tapestry.

Yes.

We shall quiet.

The voices were silenced.

Esli started running again. The walls started moving again. But the people Esli passed, however few, didn’t seem to take any notice. They kept walking, even as the ceiling grazed the tallest’s heads.

How had Esli never realized how far away the apartment was from the exit?

Esli felt as if the bricks and stone around her were grinding together pebbles and dust falling away like someone was zesting a lemon. Only it wasn’t a lemon. It was a wall. A servant shouted angrily as Esli ran past them, and Esli distantly heard a thunk that told her the servant had dropped something. But Esli didn’t have time to apologize (Rona

always

told her to apologize for her mistakes). She needed to

get out

.

Then, like a blessing from the gods, the huge front doors of the Fortress came into view. A smaller door was nestled in the door on the right so people could go through without the hassle of opening the gates every day. Esli barged through the door but only found that it was locked. She rammed her shoulder into the hard, dark wood in the hopes that it would open. It didn’t. She banged her fist against and noticed a sharp reverberation  (Thank you dictionary!) echoing through her hand. She felt a sprinkle of dust fall on her shoulder and looked up. The huge ceiling of the Opening Room was now sinking, just like the halls. Esli shoved the wall again, but a heavy hand sat on her shoulder, preventing her from moving. Esli could feel her breathing go short, and the air inside her lungs just felt

wrong.

“Woah, there, little trophy! What’s your rush? Don’t you have work to be doing?” The hand was connected to a man, who was connected to a voice, which was talking.

“I’ve got to get through! Open the door, please!” Esli asked, true desperation leaking into her voice. The man didn’t seem to take notice of her pressing tone.

“Alright, little trophy, but don’t go out too far. Rona would have my head for letting you go.” The man pulled out a key and with a heavy turning, he shoved the door open. Esli dashed outside, breathing the cool, fresh air with an eager energy. The wrongness of the air inside the Fortress seemed to disappear, and Esli looked back to the stone monstrosity behind her. None of the walls or roofs seemed collapsed or fallen in. It all looked… the same.

But Esli didn’t want to go back inside. She was still scared of the falling roof. So, she did as any sane person would do. She walked.
 
“What are you doing here, little one?” a voice asked. Esli looked up from her trudging state and saw an elderly woman look down at her. She had skin the color of the cinnamon the cooks would put in cakes, and grey hair that was streaked with black, not the other way around. Her crow’s feet crinkled around her eyes as she spoke, and she had a large nose. She spoke again. “Where are you going, dear one?” she asked.

“I just, I, uh, I just wanted to get out,” Esli said, with no further explanation.

The woman nodded solemnly. “I see. Well, would you like to sit down? I have tea if you would like something to drink.”

Esli blinked once, then twice. “Oh, well. I don’t really want any tea, but can I sit here for a while?”

The woman nodded. “Go on ahead. Stay as long as you like. Do you have any questions? I know lots about plants if you’re looking to converse.”

Esli was stunned for a moment. Nobody had ever offered to speak with her as an offhanded comment. But then, Esli remembered the haunting voices of the trees. They had offered her tea, and the woman was gardening at the northern end of the forest.

Esli swallowed the nervous energy that had pooled in her throat. “Ma’am, do the trees here… talk?”

The woman smiled. “Why, yes, they do! Quite chatty, they are, as well. Would you like to speak with them?”

Esli shifted on the worn, wooden bench she was sitting on. There were flowering carvings on the armrests. “Well, they told me to come here. Do you know why?”

The woman grabbed a pair of pruning shears and started trimming a hedge a few feet away. “I’m afraid I don’t, dear.”

Esli nodded. After a seemingly long pause, Esli spoke again. “Could I have some tea?”

The woman stopped her shearing and lightly stepped towards the bench. She knelt down and pulled out a tray with an unpainted ceramic teapot and little cups. She delicately poured the tea for both herself and Esli and handed the girl one of the steaming cups. Esli took it with a thankful nod.

“Tell me, deary, what is your name?” the woman asked and took a sip of her tea.

“Esli,” the girl replied, blowing lightly on her hot drink.

“My name is Ee-ara. It’s lovely to meet you, Esli.”

The two sat on the wooden bench, Esli occasionally putting the cup on the ground and tracing the engravings and carvings on the wooded arms. None of Ee-ara’s possessions seemed to be painted, only carved or created in a fiery kiln. And Ee-ara herself looked natural as a blowing breeze. Her face was not coated in the pinkish rogue like the horrible noble ladies who visited the fortress, and her eyes were not rimmed with black. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, with no strange, white powder to make it pale (The powder reminded Esli of flour. Why would anybody put flour in their hair?). Esli had nothing against makeup, in fact, she often asked Rona if she could borrow hers. But the noble ladies just… didn’t look right. In all of Esli’s time at the fortress, Ee-ara was the most

solid

person there. She didn’t look like she had come from a faery tale or would leap back into the pages of her storybook.

“I would like to speak with the trees,” Esli blurted. Her tea had long since been drained and the cup had gone cold.

“Alright.” Ee-ara stood and delicately placed her cup on the tray and walked towards the wall, which was covered in shrubs and flowering vines. The vines reached across the whole width of the forest wall, from one end to the other. Rona had told her that it took decades for it to be finished. Ee-ara pulled a mass of vines away from the wall, revealing an old, wooden ladder. “It is very arduous for the trees’ voices to pass through this wall. It’s enchanted, you know. I believe that they would rather see you in person. But you ought not worry; I’m going with you. I can’t have you running around unsupervised, now can I?”

Esli nodded and put her cup away, right beside Ee-ara’s, and looked up at the tall ladder. The entire wall was twice Ee-ara’s height, and Ee-ara was very tall; it was quite a climb. Esli suddenly turned sheepish. “I don’t really know that I want to climb it, actually.”

“You might never get the chance again. You should take the leap,” Ee-ara said, pulling more vines away from the ladder.

Esli looked up at the wall again and felt dread poll her stomach. She

really

didn’t want to climb that wall. But she wanted to see the trees! Esli had seen naught but barren shrubs and twiggy bushes on the island. A part of her ached to see

real

greenery, but she was terrified nonetheless. Especially if the greenery could

talk

. She’d never encountered that before.

A part of Esli didn’t know why she wanted to climb that ridiculously high wall. But the other told her that if she didn’t, she’d never get the chance again.

So, Esli started climbing the old ladder, wincing every time it creaked under her foot. Ee-ara still stood on the ground, giving her shouts of encouragement and praise for getting so high up off the ground. Esli desperately hoped that nobody would see her. If they did, who knew what would happen? Esli had once watched Jared throw an unsuspecting guard into the dungeons and confine the man in a dark room. She had slid the man a little flower and a few words of encouragement but then had to skitter off. When the man came out a week later, he kept raving on about snarling ghosts and crawling vines.

Ever since Esli had seen that man tortured in the dungeon, she had learned how to slip around in the shadows of the deeply shadowed place. She didn’t want to be noticed by neither guard nor prisoner. But now, the sun was shining right on her, and there were no dark shadows to hide in.

Esli was terrified. Heights didn’t really make her bones shake, especially since she and Rona lived in a higher level of the Fortress, but climbing on the rickety old ladder (That was probably made when Ee-ara was young) did not really instill her with confidence.

Even so, Esli continued. As she reached the lip of the wall, the wind grew louder and blew her hair in a bunch of different directions, almost making her unable to see.

“There’s another ladder on the other side! Use it to get down!” Ee-ara called, “I’m coming up now!”

The wind kept blowing Esli in all different directions, making her wobble. She leaned over the high edge and saw a distinct swath of forest, the green now looking different colors. Some treetops were a dark, dull green while others were a bright and vibrant viridian.

With a deep breath, Esli swung her foot over the wall and pulled herself up. As she sat, perched on the old barrier between Jared’s cruel land and a land of verdant greenery, Esli sighed with a new-found joy. The view, the smell, and the overall

aura

of the place overwhelmed Esli with happiness, She couldn’t remember a moment when she had ever felt so content.

Whoosh!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Aytha sighed.

He did that a lot.

He strode through the palace halls, a growing sense of unease growing and weaving through him like a virus. Why did he leave Sam in charge of the twins? He had just gotten back from his best friend’s husband’s funeral, and he was not in the mood for games, something his sons and brother were very fond of.

Nethienthen, the head of the Advising Council, followed him slowly, like a calm cat trailing after its master and waiting for it to tell it off. However, Aytha knew he would Nethienthen’s helps with wrangling the troublemakers.

As Aytha passed a clear window, he stopped in his tracks. The third window to the perpendicular left of the eighth art room on the third floor had emerald green drapes, not rose red. Aytha scowled. This was no doubt the work of the palace’s resident troublemakers. He had given them ample time to cause all the havoc they wanted. He was gone for months, after all. Almost half of the year!

He didn’t relish being away from his sons and brother, but Eliza… well. She wasn’t in the most stable state, if one could sum it up. And

this

was what he received as a “welcome home!” gift. Perfectly normal for Sam, but a tad bit over the top for the boys.

They knew he hated abrupt changes in decór.

With a

seething passion.

Aytha sighed again. He stopped and felt the new drapes. They were of a candescent quality, smooth and almost shining in the sunlight from the dust-cleared window. The green drapes were thick and linen-like, letting no light through the cloth if they were closed.

A servant in a dark dress passed by, and Aytha followed after her. “Excuse me ma’am, but where are the twins?” he asked her.

The servant turned around quickly and curtsied quickly just as fast. “Your Highness, the princes are currently in their rooms. Thirisam had ‘grounded’ them a week ago for running off in the woods for a day without permission.”

Aytha nodded. “Thank you.”

With that, Aytha retraced his steps and strode up a set of stairs to the towers of the palace. Both boys had said that they wanted their rooms in the watchtowers. Why, Aytha didn’t know, but he suspected it was for some nefarious and childlike plan.

Nethienthen followed still, his familiar boots tapping on the floor. Aytha could always tell if it was Nethienthen or some other nuisance because Thien’s stride was different than anybody’s elses’. It was accentuated by an uneven gait. Thien had once broken an ankle in his youth, and, as a hardy youth he was at the time, he had ignored his doctor’s advice and the ankle had healed incorrectly.

“We’re going up the stairs, aren’t we?” Thien sighed.

“Indeed.” Aytha confirmed Nethienthen’s dismal remark with stern determination.

“Joy.”

Soon, the door to the Eastern Tower came into view. The door was ornamented with a few golden leaves and a string of wire leaves. Saytha’s room. Aytha twisted the handle to the door, but was met not with the satisfyingly smooth turn, but a jarring stop halfway through. The door was locked.

Aytha scowled. Saytha never kept his door locked unless Aytha or Sam told him to. Did Sam lock the door to keep him inside? It wasn’t likely.

Aytha gripped the doorknob again and tried again, but it was for naught. The door was locked, for sure. He sighed. Then, he held the door with both hands and said a small encantation. He felt a comforting warmth in his head spread to his hands, but kept his eyes closed. He heard a dull

click

and opened his eyes. He turned the knob for a third time and the door opened.

Then, he grew even more suspicious. Saytha was skilled at simple spells, like locking a door, and Daytha was even better. So who had so haphazardly locked his son’s door?

Aytha burst through the door and strode into the threshold.

Then, a heavy wetness fell on his shoulders. Aytha felt a thick, cold substance fall from his hair and onto the floor. He heard Thien laugh heartily, and turned around to glare at him.

Thien snorted. “The boys have done it again.”

Aytha wiped his hand on his now sullied tunic and looked at the yellowish goop. It shined lightly in the light from the window by the tower’s stairs and had a sweet smell, almost like frosting.

Custard.

“I’ve been

custard’d,

” Aytha growled.

Nethienthen laughed incredulously. “What?”

“Custard. The dessert made with egg yolks and cream, usually topped with whipped cream or flavored with fruit.” Aytha licked the goop on his hand. “And not my recipe,” he noted.

“Why would it need to be

your

recipe?” Thien asked, still perched outside the doorway. “Also, I wouldn’t eat that. You don’t know long it’s been waiting.”

Aytha wrinkled his nose in realization. “Hm. You’re right.”

Then, with a deep breath, Aytha yelled up the twisting stairs, “SAYTHA, GET DOWN HERE!”

However, there were no tell-tale and hesitant steps to be heard. No little feet coming down the worn stairs. Aytha grimaced and looked down at the green carpet lining the stairs. He

really

didn’t want to dirty the most-likely recently cleaned carpet. So, with

another

sigh, he wiped the slimy-feeling custard off of his sleeves and tunic. It fell in wet globs on the stone floor. Aytha grimaced as it fell with irritating sounds.

Aytha sighed (again) and trudged up the stairs. The Towers were the tallest part of the palace, and Aytha didn’t relish climbing so many stairs. However, if he were to find his sons, he would need to. He turned back around to find Nethienthen gazing quizzically at the still-open doorway. Aytha sighed. He did that a lot. “Thien, if you’re not going to come with me, then go have some of the guards look for the boys.”

Thien nodded and said, “Have fun!” with a cheery wave.

Aytha continued up the stairs, grimacing every time a little line of mess appeared on the walls or the stairs themselves. Soon, the secondary door to Saytha’s room came into view. It was decorated with strands of multicolored ribbon and little wooden charms. Aytha turned the handle of the door, and hoped to the dearest Ebrar that it wasn’t locked.

The handle turned smoothly and Aytha went inside, hoping to find his elder son sitting at his desk, working with school problems, or even worse, working with his brother to devise a new scheme. Unfortunately, this hope was for naught. The room, which was slightly dirty, was bereft of any troublemaking teenagers. The bed was made (surprisingly), and curtains open and blowing with a breeze from the open window, and a paper filled with cramped writing sat on the desk. However, the embroidered rug was dusty and sat in disarray, and there was a spilled inkwell sitting lonely on the desk, almost leaking its contents on the lone note.

Aytha sidestepped a pair of trousers lying on the floor and picked up the note. He pulled his eyeglasses (Which Daytha said needed a “sparkle”. The next day the glasses were covered in metallic dust) and picked up the note. In Saytha’s jittery penmanship, it read:

Dama, or Uncle Sam, or whoever gets here first,
Hi! Me and Daytha went for a walk, we ought to be back by nightfall. If not, well, look       for our corpses in the woods. And Dama, if YOU get this, welcome home! 
With most sincerity and love,

Saytha
 
Aytha sighed. He was doing a lot more of that now that he was back home.

Aytha dropped the note and pushed his glasses to his hairline, still giving an exhausted sigh. He was

terrified

. “

Look for our corpses.

”? Saytha wasn’t often a person to joke about things, so what were they up to? Aytha secured his reading glasses and dashed down the stairs, having a newfound urgency.

As he ran down the halls of his palace, Aytha noticed subtle changes to the to the area. Some of the walls had new paintings and a few of the curtains were different colours.

Daytha’s door was wide open, which was a good thing because Aytha didn’t think he had the strength to open it on his own. He ran through the doorway, and, you, reader, can probably guess what happened.

A vat of sticky, chocolate syrup spilled down on Aytha’s shoulders.

“OH, COME ON!

DAYTHA!

” the king of Ionmir ran up the stairs, heaving breaths puffing as he climbed.

Now, Aytha opened the door to his younger son’s room, and found it nice and tidy. However, the curtains were missing and the desk was covered in various pieces of parchment, along with a folded envelope. Aytha opened it with quick fingers and read it quickly. These are the contents:
 
Dear whoever,

Hi! So me and Saytha went for a walk in the southern woods. We should be back soon. We brought our swords so we’ll be fine. And Dama, if

you

get the note, we’re glad you’re back!
 
Daytha

Aytha almost slammed the letter back on the table in his anger. They were in the Southern Woods. An area that was strictly prohibited because of the violent trees in the area. Which spanned almost one hundred and sixty miles! They could get lost as easily as they could sneak out of the palace!

Aytha dropped the note and ran down the stairs again. He needed to talk with Sam. Again, the servants were very confused to see their usually calm and peaceful monarch run down the halls and passages of the palace, but who were they to judge?

Sam’s room was in the middle of the palace, facing the back gardens and a large copse of trees. Aytha had once seen Sam leap from his balcony and into the lower branches of trees for a dare. He had dislocated his shoulder and gotten a muscadine vine wrapped in his horns, but he still got that bag of ten silver. Which he promptly used to buy a new bow.

Aytha finally made it to his brother’s room and barged inside, inadvertently using a quick spell to undo the lock. He had always been better at simple spells than Sam, anyway.

Sam, who was writing at his desk and had enchanted a harp to play in the corner, turned around to his brother. “The cooks throw you out of the kitchen?” Sam guessed, quirking a brow.

Aytha, who could no longer talk and was rendered to heaving breathing, said, “No, I didn’t–you stupid wh–the boys are in the woods–where are they?”

Sam mockingly held a cupped hand to his ear. “Say that again?”

Aytha snatched a full inkwell from a shelf and lobbed it at Sam, who just barely dodged it.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“

The boys!

Where are they?” Aytha yelled.

“What are you talking about? They’re grounded for running off last night. You’re  lucky I caught them before they got too far, you know. If I hadn’t, they’d already be as far as Eowa!” Sam laughed, turning around to continue writing.

Aytha grabbed his brother’s shoulders and spun his around. Sam started to protest but Aytha silenced him with a light

bop

on the ear. “Shut up, Sam! They went to the Southern Woods! You’ve got to–”

Sam leapt from his chair and grabbed his cloak and sword, both of which hung by the door. Then, he dashed out of the room.

“Yay,” Aytha gritted out as he followed his brother through the palace.
 
After Aytha had found his bow and quiver, told one of the guards at the gate where they were going, and found his horse, Sam was already far past him. However, it made no difference. Sam’s horse, Leafa, was meant for long distances at constant, medium speeds. However, Aytha’s own stallion, Coal, was well equipped to run fast and steady as the wind. Aytha soon caught up with his brother.

“Did you see any sign of them?” Aytha asked as they followed through the thin underbrush of the Southern Woods.

Sam answered, “They passed through here not too long ago. I can see a glimpse of their whereabouts, but not much. The trees here, it seems like they’re trying their hardest to keep them hidden.”

Aytha scowled and urged his horse forward with a shout. He heard Sam sigh behind him.

Sam had always been better at “rougher” spells, the ones that had to do with the outdoors. He could calm a horse with a few words, or track a deer with his eyes closed. Aytha, however, excelled farther in the ways of spells to deal with people. He could calm a room with a few well placed words, decipher the best liar out of a group, or find ways to appeal to both parties of a conflict. Sam just seemed to be able to

be

that best liar out of the group.

While Sam was much better with animals and nature, Aytha did know the outdoors well. With a quickly muttered spell, Aytha closed his eyes. From behind the darkness of his eyelids, he saw a faintly glowing footprint pointing east. Aytha spurred his horse onward, towards the growing amount of footprints.

Soon, the footprints grew brighter and larger, until instead of footprints, two figures stood in the distance. Aytha opened his eyes and blinked for a moment to rid his them of darkness and looked deeper into the forest. He saw a glimpse of a shining sword and spurred the horse on.

As he got closer to the scene, he saw that Saytha was lying on the ground, his sword far from his hand. Daytha stood steady before his brother, countering the flowing branches of the menacing trees with his broadsword. Aytha drew his bow and shot an arrow at a branch leaning towards Saytha, and it jabbed into the thick bark with a heavy

thunk!

Only then, did Aytha hear the singing.

Waters swishing, waves rocking, 8

Our brothers call 4

On the wall 3

Our little girl 4

Falling like a stone, down below. 8

Save her, brethren! 4

Catch her fall! 3

The Little Naris, little one, 8

What are you trying? 5

For we cannot run, 5

Cannot move to catch you flying. 8

Glo’rious goddess, 5

Catch her floating form. 5

This strong feat we cannot perform 8

With our flowing limbs and falling leaves 9

We cannot catch her with our thin eaves. 9

The Little Naris, little one 8

Our little girl of hope and freedom, 9

Why did you listen to the goddess? 9

Even though so dreary and glum, 8

We shan’t follow. 4

We cannot. 3

Catch her, young trees, 4

With your boughs green, hold her higher 8

She laughs in the breeze 4

Happy and safe.4

Guard Little Naris, keep her safe 8

Aytha ignored the melodious and grave voices of the trees and fired another arrow at a grasping branch that tried to grab at Saytha’s ankles.

Daytha seemed to have a newfound strength with the appearance of his father and uncle, and slashed at the thick boughs with vigor. From across of clearing, Aytha saw a wisp of Sam’s dark hair flash through the leaves. He also saw a glimmer of something large and shiny.

That was none of his business.

However, it soon became his business because a tree’s limb shoved him out of the cover of the other trees. Aytha ran to Saytha, finding him unconscious but alive almost made him collapse with relief. Daytha hacked at a thin branch that was heading for Aytha.

“Welcome home, Dama! How was the trip?” Daytha asked cheerfully.

Aytha ran to grab Saytha’s discarded sword, realizing his bow would be practically useless against a mob of armored vines.

“Uneventful!” Aytha replied as he grabbed the abandoned sword.

The trees and branches around them creaked and snapped as they moved, their leaves and limbs and swaying with sentience and the wind blowing through them. Aytha chopped though a thin limb but the branch continued its onslaught, heedless to it’s now missing appendage.

Then, out of the darkness of the forest, came Sam, running up with an axe in hand. With a rageful shout, he cut into a thick branch, and the tree’s branches started to writhe and shake, creaking louder. Aytha glared at his brother. “Now how in the

world

are you able to do–”

He was unfortunately interrupted by a tree branch smacking him on the nose.

Aytha stood again, but now, most of the trees were cowed by the sight of Thirisam with his axe. Aytha turned to his brother with a scowl on his face. “And where in the

world

–”

“Did i procure this beauty? Well, I was at the beach this one time, and I met some dwarves who invited me over for dinner, because dwarves have

wonderful

hospitality, and as a farewell gift, they gave me a collapsable magic axe! Isn’t that a coincidence?” Sam grinned, throwing the weapon in the air and catching it again.

Aytha sighed wearily.

However, he had much more pressing concerns than the whereabouts of how Sam procured his new weapon. Aytha turned away from his brother, who seemed to share his idea, and knelt beside Saytha. Daytha was already by his brother’s side, trying to wipe away a dribble of blood on his forehead.

Sam went on ahead and picked up his nephew, regardless of Daytha’s protests. Aytha put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Saytha needs to get medical help. Sam will take him to the palace fastest. You ought not worry about your brother. At most, he’s got a mild concussion and will have a bit of headache in the morning. For now, I suggest we leave this forest as fast as possible. Would you agree, my son?” Aytha raised a brow that meant this topic was over for discussion.

Daytha nodded mournfully and gathered their discarded things from the clearing. Then, the two had to use Sam’s horse, because Aytha’s was far more equipped to make the journey to the place the fastest. The ride was slow and miserably awkward. However, once the stone of the palace came into view, Aytha lent his son off the horse and they strode through the gates, looking weary and unhappy.

No servants asked to take their cloaks or their weapons, for which Aytha was glad. Now, however, Daytha deemed the time to be right for a conversation. “So, how was the funeral?”

“Like most funerals, I’d say. Dark, dreary, depressing. You know how it is. I’m sorry that I was away for so long. Eliza, she… she wasn’t in the proper state to be alone,” Aytha explained.

Daytha nodded. “So bout Adirous and them? What’s up with them?”

Oh.

I guess he doesn’t know,

, Aytha thought.

Aytha started fidgeting with his sleeve, sliding the seam against itself. The vibration of the cloth was soothing.

“Something bad, I guess? Dama, your playing with your sleeve again. You do that when your nervous,” Daytha commented.

Aytha glared at son, which was difficult because he was two inches taller than him. “You and your brother are going to be the death of me.”

Daytha grinned, and Aytha was happy to the sight after so long. “Yeah, yeah, so you’ve said. But tell me what happened with Adirous and the other. They

are

my friends, you know.”

Aytha sighed. It was one of his favourite pastimes. “You know the youngest Dathus, Esli?”

Daytha’s brow pinched with concern. “Yeah? She gave three leaves, a flower, and a

really

tiny pen last time I came over. I’d say Adirous would kill a whole village to keep that little one safe. So what happen?”

“She’s gone missing.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.” Aytha nodded.

“That is

not good.

Please tell me they found her,” Daytah asked looking to his father for an answer.

“Unfortunately not. The Dathir is not taking her supposed loss very well. I recommend you and brother send them a letter to explain your deepest condolences and that you will be coming over soon,” Aytha ordered, adjusting his grip of the swords in his arms. He held them gingerly, not waiting to get cut by the sharp edges.

Daytha frowned. “Dama, come on! It isn’t like I don’t want to visit Adirous, but really? A letter to send them my condolences? Don’t you think that might be a little over the top?”

Aytha put his hand on his son’s shoulder. The fibres of his coats felt too prominent. “Sending a letter to explain how you feel is never a bad thing. And you

will

be going to Tanvi soon to spend time with your friends while I correct all of the disorders around the palace.”

“What do you mean by disorders?” Daytha asked politely, seeming very confused.

Aytha gestured to a bright purple curtain hanging in front of a vaulting window and Daytha nodded. “I see. So when will we be going?”

Aytha didn’t exactly have that figured out yet. “I don’t know, Little Sun. But how about you go and clean your room? There’s a lovely puddle of chocolate syrup that needs tending to.”

Daytha hesitated for a moment before his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. With a sigh, he said, “See you later, Dama,” and made his way through the hall to his room.

“Oh, and Daytha?” the king asked.

Daytha turned around to face his father. “Don’t be too long now, I want to have dinner you boys. I missed you, if you’ll believe it.”

Daytha beamed and continued on.
 
Dinner that night was an awkward affair. For some reason, Sam had decided to pull out his homemade spirits, which led to a heated discussion between Sam and Aytha as to whether or not the boys should be allowed to have some. During the bickering of brothers, however, the boys managed steal a bottle and hide it under the table for “safe keeping”. Aytha only knew because they kept giggling for no apparent reason.

However, once dessert had been brought out and an apple tart lit on fire (Daytha tried to connect with his namesake and touch the fire), Aytha felt that he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

With a loud clatter, he dropped his fork on his empty plate and picked up a small orange. The center of the long table was laden with fresh fruits that would soon be taken to the kitchens and used for cooking. What difference would an orange make?

Aytha picked up the orange, and, with a mischievous smirk, lobbed it at Sam. Sam, who had the both the best and worst reflexes out of all of them, caught the orange with ease and picked up a handful of thinly sliced apples from the tart. He stood and threw them at Aytha, but only three hit him because they came apart in the air.

Daytha and the newly recovered Saytha seemed to take this as “One of Dama’s Breaking Points/ Tension Breakers”. Now, they didn’t know if he was going to hole himself up in his chambers for the rest of night afterwards, or, if he had simply gotten tired of the silence, both of which he was prone to do.

Saytha grabbed a few quartered and boiled potatoes and threw them at Daytha, who, in turn, grabbed a dish full of rolls and started throwing them freely, all the while cackling with glee.

Sam threw a bundle of green beans wrapped in bacon at Daytha, who thought that it was Aytha, and threw a slice of a pear at him.

Soon, it divulged into food warfare, each person with a cache of foodstuffs, throwing them at each other, occasionally taking a bite, and yelling at each other like a group of banshees.

However, their fun was rudely interrupted by Nethienthen, who had heard some sort of commotion in the dining hall.

“What in the

world

are you all doing?!” he shouted, his face a page of aghastness, shock, and anger.

“Uh–” Aytha started. He didn’t really know what to say.

“We were welcoming the Dathor home in the only way we know how!” Saytha explained, gesturing around the room. “Chaos!”

Thien sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Why did I become friends with such lunatics?”

“Hey, I’m not a lunatic! My name means ‘sun’,” Daytha announced happily, seemingly proud of his assessment of his understanding of his own language.

“Yes, I know that, Daytha, but, just…” Thien drew off into a sigh. “I’m going to go find somebody to clean this mess up. All of you, go… take a bath. All of you are covered in potatoes and wine.”

“Moonshine, actually,” Sam corrected as he discretely took a sip from the bottle at his side. “You know, I went to a Falkir river and they let me get some of their fruit for this stuff. It only grows by their rivers.”

“Really?” Saytha asked eagerly, with all the enthusiasm of a child, even though he was almost an adult.

“No, he’s lying, he does that a lot,” Aytha answered, now wiping the runny yolk of an egg off of his sleeve. Where had anybody gotten boiled eggs? He didn’t want to know.

Thien left the room in a huff, muttering about royalty and idiots.

Aytha peeled off his coat and was happy to see that the rest of his clothes were intact. However, he hadn’t issued a parley. A piece of an orange came flinging at him, and he only managed to catch it with an instinctual whoosh of his hand, leaving the slice dangling in the air for a moment before dropping to the floor.

“Shall we commence our peace talks?” Aytha asked, looking around the large room.

The boys nodded to each other and Sam agreed. They came to the idea that if they all ate a bite of “Mrs. Gothet’s Over-Seasoned Pasta” they would all leave the room in peace. However, Mrs. Gothet’s pasta was

horrible.

Mrs. Gothet herself was the pastry chef, not the cook. Her abilities lied with fruits and cakes, not pasta and savory dishes. However, nobody really wanted to tell her.

The pasta had a healthy dose of cumin, cayenne pepper, too much salt, and a type of cheese that

really

didn’t match the flavor combination. Even though they all didn’t want too, they each took a bite out of the dish of pasta and shook hands, parley over.

After, Sam dismissed himself to his chambers with his leftover bottle of moonshine, saying, “I need to go write some letters to my enemies.”

Sam had long since discarded his own coat, so Aytha picked it up and shook it out, a few crumbs falling off of it. He wrapped it around Saytha’s shoulders and his own coat around Daytha’s. They were both soaking wet and exhausted after levitating some water out of a barrel nearby and pouring it over each other.

Aytha pulled the coats snug around their shoulders and patted them each on the shoulder, smiling warmly. “Come on, now. If we’re still here when Thien gets back, he’ll make us help with the cleanup.”
 
After Aytha had gotten the boys safely to their own rooms and then got himself cleaned up, the hour was late, nearing eleven o’clock. And he still needed to pack.

Wearily, he unpacked bag after bag of little dried flowers, pouches of seeds, clothes, and little carvings. All of the Tanvi children in the palace liked to give him little trinkets when he came over, and he kept them happily. He placed the little carvings on the mantle above the fireplace in his room and put all of the dried flowers on his desk for his to put in letters for decoration when he sent them. He would give the seeds to Sam; he would find use for them.

After throwing all of his travel clothes in the hamper, clean or not, he settled into bed with a thick book,

The Bright History of Desserts

. It was very dull.

However, as he turned page after page, his eyes didn’t seem to grow heavy.

Where’s that exhaustion I had thirty minutes ago?

He wondered sadly, as he read the word “sweet” for the eighth time on that page.

After he read “sweet” the tenth time, he decided to get up.

It was a common sight to see the Dathor walking through the palace late at night, wearing his pajamas and bright green slippers (courtesy of Daytha). Normally, he would simply be walking around, gazing through the windows and listening to the crickets or cicadas. But today, Aytha didn’t feel up to the task of such a long walk.

Instead of making the long trek through the palace, he simply went to the kitchens. They were deserted at this time of night, everybody having gone to their own homes or their quarters in the east wing of the palace, which was reserved for the servants.

Aytha slowly tread down the hall, making his way towards the kitchen. He opened one of the wide doors and creaked open, as it had been designed to do. Aytha’s great-great-grandfather, Harrow, had wanted certain doors and windows of the palace to creak, and others to be silent. Nobody, not even his wife, seemed to know why. Aytha understood why, though. Any sort of a constance in life would be welcome to the chaos. Something that he would always know would be there. The amount of jagged creaks in the second window by the first staircase on the floor (there were three) was a calming thing, knowing that it would stay constant forever.

Aytha closed the door behind and breathed in the smell of that section of the kitchen. The entire kitchen was a mass of various rooms dedicated to various things, ranging from pastries to the preparation of fruits and vegetables. That certain section of the kitchen was for bread. Flaky, layered doughs to easily-made rolls. The entire room smelled of bread dough, warm and yeasty.

Aytha didn't like the smell of yeast activating, but he liked the smell of the bread dough. It was strange to him. One smelled like vomit, and the other smelled like warmth. He couldn’t really explain it well.

Aytha pulled a mug out of a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of milk from the ice box in the cellar. The cellar was connected to every section of the kitchen, and was

very

big, with huge shelves of produce and dairy products, ready to be used.

He poured the milk in a small pot and put it on the stove, preparing to make some warm drink. He didn’t know what he was making, but he knew that it would have spices.

Aytha turned the stove to a low heat and toddled over to another part of the kitchen through the cellar. Soon enough, he found the spice cabinet, which went from floor to ceiling and smelled like Ebrar herself had come down from the heavens and blessed the wooden cabinet.

Aytha pulled out the cinnamon, cloves, dried ginger, and honey. What his concoction was going to be, it was going to be flavourful.

Aytha then

ran

back to the bread section, and hoped to the gods that the pot hadn’t overflowed. Luckily, it hadn’t.

He took a few cloves and pieces of ginger out of their respective jars and dropped them in the now-boiling milk.. He gently placed two cinnamon sticks in as well, careful not to get splashed by the boiling drink. Aytha found a wooden spoon and gently stirred the pot, the repetitive motions calming his mind.

That day had had been hectic, to say the least. First, early that morning, Aytha was with Nethienthen, who had gone to Tanvi with him, and Thien had kept humming an

awful

tune that made Aytha want to strange him. He just wanted

quiet

in the mornings, and it irked at him when it wasn’t. Thankfully, the rest of the morning had passed easily until afternoon, when they arrived back at the palace.

That

was something Aytha didn’t was to dwell on.

Aytha was drawn from his thoughts however, by a clutter from the cellar door. Nobody ought to be awake at such an ungodly hour, unless it was Aytha himself or Sam. So who was it? Aytha turned off the stove in hopes that the milk wouldn’t burn and tiptoed towards the door, quiet as ever.

This

door didn’t creak. Aytha knew that.

Like predicted, the door of the cellar opened soundlessly, and Aytha found an endearing sight: Saytha, standing on his tiptoes, was reaching for a jar on one of the higher shelves. He grabbed a spatula from nearby to try and shove it towards him, which, surprisingly, worked. Once Saytha’s jar had ben secured in his hands, he did a little happy-dance right there, the jar snug in his grasp. However, that was when he noticed his father in the doorway.

Aytha peered at his son’s loot. “What are going to make ith… tomatoes?”

“Uhhh, bread?”

Aytha nodded. “Alright. Just clean up when you’re done.”

With a smile on his face, Aytha turned back to the bread room. However, he then realized that to make bread, his son would need to go into the bread room. It might be a little of an awkward exchange, but that was alright. Aytha could stand that if he got to spend time with son.

Just as Aytha had started to take out the spices from his drink on the stove, the soundless door of the cellar opened, and Saytha walked through.

“Oh, hey, Dama! I thought you had left,” Saytha said, smiling as he pried open the jar of tomatoes.

“I didn’t want to right to bed. I’m making some milk, do you want any?”

Saytha skipped over, holding a sack of flour. “It certainly smells good. I’ll have some.”

“Lovely.”

Aytha, in typical fatherly fashion, gently moved Saytha out of the way as he went to the sink with the boiling pot. He found two mugs and poured the milk in them. After dropping the pot in the sink with an uncomfortable

clang

, he handed a mug to Aytha. “Honey?”

“Oh, definitely. Let me get a spoon,” Saytha rummaged around the drawers for a moment before finding an adequate spoon for which to dip the honey. The honey was spooned  and mixed, and the drinks were sipped and tasted.

“Hmm. It’s certainly… strong,” Saytha coughed, putting his mug on a table.

“Indeed, it is,” Aytha put his down as well. Experiments

can

go faulty after all. Sometimes it happens.

They stood in amiable silence for a moment, before Aytha spoke.

“Dama, this might be a bit strange, but can I ask you a question?”

Aytha took another sip of his drink and grimaced. “I might have an answer.”

“Why do you have to be away for so long? I’ve really been wondering for a while, and I just want to know,” Saytha said, looking like he didn’t want to meet his father’s eyes.

Aytha hadn’t expected

that

question. If anything, he had expected a question about succession,who would be Dathor after he died. He didn’t really know why he expect that question, especially since he didn’t even know the answer.

Aytha cleared his throat. “Well, I want you to know that I don’t enjoy being away for months at a time. If I could bring you boys along with me, I would, but recently, it hasn’t been the most opportune time.”

Aytha put a (hopefully) comforting hand on Saytha’s shoulder. “I want you to know that if circumstances would permit, you’d go everywhere with me. But we all have our own things to attend to. You and your brother had your schooling and I doubted you and Daytha would want to sit through a council meeting with a mourning Dathir. If I hurt you or your brother by being gone, I never meant to. You both matter

so

much more to me than any alliance. If it would make you feel better, I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”

Saytha wrapped his arms around his father in a hug, and Aytha smiled. Aytha rocked him gently, rubbing soothing circles on his son’s back.

“Uncle Sam’s hugs are different,” Saytha muttered.

“How so?”

“His aren’t all-enveloping,” Saytha responded.

Aytha smiled and the two separated. “Let’s get to making that bread, shall we? I believe a little midnight snack would work in our favor.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli squeaked, the suddenly strong wind buffeting her shoulders and making her shake. In the distance, she saw a blue figure, standing in front of a window. She didn’t know how she knew the person was blue, but they must have been.

Then, with shock and anger, Esli remembered that the only blue person on the Island was… Jared. He had seen her!

Esli’s eyes widened and the wind continued in waves, blowing her hair to the north, towards the trees and forest.

“Little Friend, I advise you to go on ahead and clear out a path for the other ladder!” Ee-ara yelled. She was half-way up the rickety ladder, and Esli feared that it would break under her weight.

Esli nodded. She felt around the edge of the wal, separating vines and holding on with her legs. This grew increasingly difficult as the wind continued to batter her. Soon, she found a rung of the ladder and spun around awkwardly to get her foot on it.

Who

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

o

oosh

Esli fell from the wall with a scream, the wind blowing through her loose hair. The weightless feeling of falling was horrible. Esli had no steadying hand resting under her, no warm earth pulsing beneath her feet. Her eyes watched the sky in terror as the high clouds grew farther away.

But then.

A shade fell upon her eyes, blocking the blinding sun. A scratchy feeling touched her back and she was suddenly breathless, having dropped from such a height.

A creaking sound came from all around her, like branches breaking and snapping. Esli laid on the bed of scratchy thing for a while, paralyzed by the fear of her fall. Her breathing came in short gasps, and she felt unable to do anything else. However, the bed seemed it grow impatient. It shook, causing Esli to wobble in its’ grasp. She rolled over with a yelp and realized with a sudden fright that the bed was not one of wool or felt, but of

trees.

Esli yelped again and moved around, but unfortunately, she fell from the helpful boughs. Luckily, another branch caught her. Now she was

very

confused.

“Esli? Are you alright?”

Esli looked up from her perch in the trees and saw Ee-ara on top of the wall, her legs dangling down.

Esli cleared her throat and shouted back, “I’m alright!”

Esli looked around her and saw dark branches—no,

rungs

—scattered around her spot. “I don’t think you should come down, either. I think the ladder broke.”

“Well how will you get back up?”

“I think I can manage!” Esli replied.

“I think I’ll wait for you here. If you need help, just call for me, alright?” Ee-ara said, concern leaking in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am!” Esli replied.

Esli rolled over in the comforting boughs and sat up. The branches around her formed a sort of nest, circled together to create a protective formation. The leaves and the twigs in the boughs swayed and moved, despite the wind being completely nonexistent.

“Could you take me to the ground, please?” Esli asked, uncertainty apparent.

The trees creaked and lowered.

We are happy to help, Naris.

We have much to tell you.

We have a place to bring you,

For your safety.

Esli hadn’t expected the trees to speak again, but they seemed chatty now that they had no magical wall to cross.

“Could you guide me there? I would like to walk,” Esli replied.

Indeed

A split grew in the trees’ nest, and stair-like branches reached down to the ground. Esli stood uneasily and hesitantly went down the few stairs, the trees still creaking and snapping. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the trees drew away from their nest and returned to their natural state.

Esli looked ahead, away from the daunting stone wall, and turned towards the forest. A small, glowing sphere appeared between the trees, a faint, pale green against the darkness of the covered ground and shadowed, thick stalks of the trees.

She followed after the glowing orb, and as she did, more appeared, some in bushes or patches of grass, others in clearing paths.

Esli followed them doggedly, happy to be in such a lively place. She didn’t know why nobody was allowed in the forest; the greenery felt invigorating, like a cool drink of water after waking up on a drab day.

You are close.

It shan’t be too long.

Esli smiled. Whatever the trees had planned for her, she was eager to see it.

Then, a huge tree came into view, the trunk looking like a tower of Jared’s fortress. The trunk was scarred and knotted, with little vines wrapping around it. Glowing flowers hung from flowing branches like an ancient willow trees, the flowers flickering and waving about.

Here.

The roots sprawl like a river.

They will welcome you.

Reluctantly, Esli edged towards the roots of the huge tree. The smallest root she could find was twice her height in width. A little door was nestled in a tangle of roots, a shining silver doorknob sitting in the middle.

Esli was hesitant. What would happen if she opened the door? In Rona’s book of faery tales, when a person meddled with faeries, they would be cursed. That door

really

looked like it had some sort of faery residue.

Enter, Little Naris.

Esli sighed and looked down at the pine needles on the ground. There something terrifying and enchanting about the door. She wanted to go inside, just to see what sort of structure held up the huge tree.

So, with an astounding bolt of courage, Esli walked forward and opened the door. The knob twisted with a faint creak, as if the mechanisms were rusted. The door swung open with a shocking intensity, and Esli slowly shuffled inside.

Esli expected the room to look like a crumbling basement with dirt walls that would crumble at her touch and maybe an ancient lantern hanging from a peg. The room in the tree was large, almost as big as Rona’s kitchen and living room combined. The floor was lined with soft, silent pine needles and the roof felt like a tent, the middle reaching highest point in the tree, tapering to a thin point. The walls were made of a rough oak bark with shelves holding vials and jars of various liquids and powders. A table stood in the back wall with a cold fireplace and rusted caldron to the left wall. The right was completely barren, with naught but the bark as a wall paper.

Esli ran a hand over the bare wall, letting the rough texture slide beneath her fingertips, she felt like something was missing. However, Esli didn’t know what. A readily available fireplace was there, a clean table, and a large arrangement of ingredients were at her beck and call, but she just… didn’t know what to do with them.

Welcome Naris.

We are happy that you have found your way.

Our brethren have worried.

Our Progenitor is coming.

They will help you.

Esli frowned. “Who is the ‘Progenitor’?”

You will see in due time.

Light the fire.

Esli rolled her eyes at such demanding trees. And anyway, why would they want her to light the fire inside a

tree

? It didn’t make any sense. However, Esli was not one to go against the commands of a disembodied voice of a forest, so she lit the fire and sat down on the table. Esli swished her legs back and forth, bored by the wait of the “Progenitor”.

Esli didn’t like waiting. It made her mind wander when she want it to. Sometimes, she would think about her future. Who would she kill? Who would she hurt or maim? Would they be of any importance, or would they be like the man in the dungeons, tortured for a simple theft of bread?

“Why are you sitting on the table?”

Esli turned towards the right, where the soft voice had come from. From the barren wall came a strange figure. A man—seemingly—stood by the wall. However, he looked more tree than man. His skin looked to made from the same bark as the walls. His legs looked to be rooted in the pine straw in the ground, and a swath of leaves covered his body. From his shoulder, a thick trunk grew with branches of oak reaching high over his head like an ornate adornment. His hair was done in dark locks with small, wooden clasps. Esli thought that he really wasn’t like a man, she thought he was a “they”, not a “he”.

“I like your hair. I’ve never seen anybody’s hair like that,” Esli said.

The tree man smiled and the small pieces of tree bark on his face creased like crows’ feet. “Why, thank you! You know, I usually get different remarks.”

Esli nodded in agreement. She didn’t really know how to respond to that without being too rude.

The tree man seemed to see the silence, so they began again. “My name is Leaf’n. And who might you be?”

Esli leapt off of the table and held out her hand in greeting. “I’m Esli. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Leaf’n. I don’t want to be rude, but where am I?”

Leaf’n smiled warmly. “You are in the oldest tree on the island, Esli. Here, magic is at its most highest potential. And do you know that

you

can use magic?”

Esi was shocked. To her, magic was something that resided in her books of faery tales and such. Magic wasn’t real. And

logically

, how could magic be real? Rona had told her that nothing can be created from nothing. You couldn’t make a cake out of thin air. And making a cake out of thin air

was

magic! “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Leaf’n. Magic isn’t real.”

Leaf’n looked to Esli, and, with a straight face, they looked to the fire. They walked over to the blazing flames and reached a wooden hand into the heat. Esli was frightened that their hand would burn, but it didn’t. Leaf’n drew their hand away from the fire and came out with a ball of leaping flames curled in their palm.

Esli watched in wonder as Leaf’n strode over to a hanging lantern, their roots moving through the pine straw like grabbing fingers, and lit the lantern with the ball of flames. Once the lantern had been lit, Leaf’n shook their hand and the flames dissipated, leaving only the tree’s uncharred hand.

Esli gaped. Leaf’n continued with their cheery smile and said, “Is magic not real? For I am hewn from wood, flammable and immobile. Yet I have lit a lantern with my very hand. What can one say to that?”

“I think I believe you.”

“Wonderful!” Leaf’n clapped their hands together in delight.

They strode over to a shelf of powders and vials, and pulled out three. One green, one yellow, and one red.

They laid the delicate-looking bottles on the table and gestured to each. They said, “Choose one. Then, you must choose a liquid.”

“Why?” Esli asked, her head tilted lightly.

“I want to see what you’ll make. While you choose your powder, I’ll get the other ingredient. Just a moment.”

Once Leaf’n had left, Esli turned to the table and looked at the little jars of powders. The green looked to be the texture of sand, the yellow a fine powder, and the red a mixture of the two, tiny pieces resting in the fine, red dust. Esli looked for a while, figuring out which color she liked best and looking at the textures of each. She didn’t dare to touch the powders themselves; she had no idea what they even were.

In the end, Esli chose the red powder. It had a major difference between the green and yellow powders. By then, Leaf’n had come back with a little basket of more bottles, the contents clinking and sliding against each other.

They placed the wicker basket gently on the rough hewn table and the bottles finished their noise with one, lasting

clink.

“Choose your solvent. Feel free to take them out and examine them.”

Esli looked at the bottles, their corked tops giving nothing for Esli to see. There were many more bottles than the powders; four lines of three bottles sat in the basket. Esli pulled out a bottle with a scuff on the neck and looked at it’s contents. The inside was a bright yellow, with little bubbles coming up to the top.

Esli looked at each bottle and arranged all of them on the table. She wanted to be able to see all of their colors and to see if them made any residue on the walls of their containers.

In the end, Esli chose a little round bottle with a thick, blue liquid inside. Once she had chosen her solvent and solute, Leaf’n came forth and examined her selections.

They turned the bottles over and looked for any imperfections in the glass or materials inside and finally smiled. “You have made a good selection, Naris. Come. Let’s see what we can make with your selection.”

Leaf’n led Esli to a little glass bowl on the table and pulled out an iron spoon from a shelf. They handed Esli the bottles of her choosing and with Leaf’n’s direction, she poured each into the bowl. As the thick liquid and powdery solute combined, the color changed slowly. From a dull blue-grey, it turned into a bright lavender with bubbles popping to the top. The liquid was thinner and almost clear, and Esli was astounded at the strange change.

Leaf’n smiled again and said, “And that confirms it! With your permission, I’d like to invite you to join me in practicing and learning magic. It seems that you have quite an affinity for it.”

Esli stood in silence for a moment, thinking long and hard about her decision. She

could

learn the magical art, but what would happen? Would Rona be unhappy with her? Would there be negative consequences?

Esli sucked in a breath and replied, “I want to talk with it about Rona. I want to know her opinion.”

Leaf’n nodded easily. “A fine idea. Go to your guardian and tell them of this, and come back with their answer.”

Esli nodded nd turned back to look at the bowl. When she looked to ask Leaf’n how the magic worked, he was gone.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Leaf’n stood by the table, the metal spoon in their hand. He was concerned. The Little Naris—”Deadly Vine” What a odd name for the trees to give a little girl—had passed the test with flying colors! She had chosen the correct bottles, had been kind as a summer strawberry, and was eager to ask questions. In total, the perfect student. But something still worried Leaf’n.

The color of the potion made had made Leaf’n grow wary. Only once before had they seen a lavender compound, and the results of the maker had been disastrous. With the first being who had created the pale purple liquid, Ebrar herself had asked Leaf’n to teach him in her absence. The boy had been snappish and rude, never one to take Leaf’n’s advice. In the end, the boy had left with only a note saying that he was off to see the world. When the boy came home, then a man, Leaf’n made sure that he wouldn’t get into much trouble by staying close by.

Now, as they saw the bubbling lavender potion the mixing bowl, the iron spoon turning a deep orange, they feared.

They didn’t know what the Little Naris would do. Would she raze cities? Would she battle for good? Leaf’n had no way of knowing. All they knew, was the the Little Naris would

do.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

As Esli climbed down the final ledge of the ladder, Ee-ara startled. “Oh, my word! Don’t startle me like that, Esli!”

Esli turned sheepish. “Sorry. But you’ll never guess what happen, Ms. Ee-ara!”

“And what was that, dear?” the old woman asked, looking through the petals of a daffodil.

“I met this, well, I

think

they were a person, named Leaf’n and he said I can do magic, and isn’t that interesting?” Esli told the woman about her time in the Northern Woods with a fast happiness, and Esli could tell that the woman was struggling to understand.

“–And it was really cool! What do you think, Ms. Ee-ara? Should I do it?” Esli asked, a wide grin splitting her face.

“I thinks that’s for you to decide, little one. And look at the sky! It’s darkening. I suggest you get inside before Rona comes looking.”

Esli frowned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ee-ara patted the young girl on the shoulder, a comforting smile on her face. “Fear not, little one. We shall meet again. Now go along; I believe that Rona is looking for you,” Ee-ara said, lightly guiding Esli away from the northern wall and back to the rest of the gardens.

Esli nodded slowly and waved goodbye, already running through the grass and hoping that the gardeners wouldn’t release their geese on her.
 
“Esli! By the stars, you had me worried! Where were you?” Rona asked, wide eyed and grabbing her shoulders. The two stood in the living room of Rona’s apartment, both a little nervous and confused. The happiness that had come from meeting Leaf’n had worn off, leaving confusion in it’s place.

“Oh! I went into the woods–”

“

What?”

“But don’t worry!” Esli amended, “Nothing bad happened! Well, I did fall off the wall but that–”

Rona made a choking sound.

“Just forget I said that! But I had a nice walk through the woods, and then I met a tree-person in the woods who told me I could do magic, and I want to know if I can learn it,” Esli asked, a tentative smile on her face.

Rona put her hands on her hips and a frown drew itself in her face. “Do you want to?”

Esli nodded slowly, as if she were thinking hard on the subject.

Rona sighed and rubbed a weary hand over her face. “Fine.”

Esli grinned madly, her eyes shining with joy.

“But you have to be careful in those woods, you hear? I’ll not have to go tell Jared that you got hurt over a fallen branch.”
 
Rona was

not

looking forward the next few days.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Estrada
 sat in the garden, a small smile on her face. It had been a few days since she had had her talk with Ama, and the results of simply

talking

were astounding. Now, Estrada was simply taking in the view of the blooming garden.

However, a shout came from around the corner, pulling Estrada from her thoughts. She turned around and peered through the door of the garden, hoping to see if the shout was from a petty squabble, or something that actually needed her attention.

Estrada looked and wasn’t shocked at all. Kayleth—the little menace—was struggling to get out not one but

two

pairs of arms who were trying to contain her.

“Your Highness, please stop–” one of the guards started, but Kayleth continued.

“Let me go! I command you!” Kayleth shouted, a mask of rage covering her stern face.

“Excuse me!” Estrada shouted. She marched through the halls and stood before the guards and her struggling sister, who seemed to be delighted at her presence.

“Your Highness, we apologize for the disturbance–”

Estrada turned to Kayleth before the guard could even finish. “What happened?”

Kayleth grinned and yanked her arm out of her captor’s hands. “Well, I was just walking down the hall. I was just leaving a training exercise and I was going through the great hall and I was talking to one of the councilors–”

“She attacked a councilor!” one of the guards interjected, a worried look crossing his face.

“Kayleth! Why in all thirty-nine hells would you do that?” Estrada yelled. Before she could get into more depth in the conversation, she dismissed the guards and thanked them for their assistance.

“Kayleth,” Estrada said slowly, “what did you do?”

Kayleth grinned and answered, “Well, I was just going through the great hall after a training exercise, as I was saying, and I was talking with some of the councilors and other nobles and one of them made a snide comment that I couldn’t ignore. He said that Esli should

stay

lost. I couldn’t let him say that with consequences!”

Estrada gaped at her younger sister. “What did you do?”

“Well, I yelled at him, and then I hit him in the face, and his nose gave a very satisfying

crunch

–”

“Kayleth Tansa! What in the world is wrong with you? You can’t just go around and punch councilors in the face! For anything!”

Kayleth’s grin faded into a scowl of anger, as it was prone to do. “Well, you weren’t there! He said it like she should be dead and stay that way. He deserved it!”

“Kayleth, you are a

dathus

for Ebrar’s sake! You

cannot

act this way! You represent the state of our household with all of your actions, and now, you dare to assault a councilor? What was going through your head?” Estrada shouted, her voice carrying through the hall. A servant scurried by, happy to escape whatever argument was taking place.

“You weren’t there, Estrada! At least Ama cares about it! All you think about is the resources and expenses it takes to go looking for her! You never–”

Estrada broke. All the pressure of holding up the kingdom with Ama and Dama’s absence, the stress of speaking with the council, and the aggravation of having to reign in her sibling's discontent had finally broken through. “I

always

cared! You think that my heart doesn’t

break

every time I hear someone speak my little sister’s name? Do you think I wouldn’t want to say something to that horrid councilor whoever-he-is? I would! But

I

carry the weight of this family, and so do you! Every time you burst, or scream or fight in public, another brick is added to that weight. We can’t

afford

to add more bricks, Kayleth! You need to get your act together, Kayleth, or–”

“Or what?” Kayleth sneered a malicious grin plastered across her face, “You’ll tell Ama? Ama can’t do anything. She keeps to her room all day! She has been since Dama died. I can do as I please, Estrada! Nothing can befall me. Like you said, I

am

the dathus.”

Estrada’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Or else the Council will deem Ama and her family unfit to rule and have one of them take the crown. Then, you would only be honorary. No free rein, no training the guards, no mindless comments. You have lived in a world free of consequence, and now, they are all adding up. If Ama were to lose her seat as Dathir, it would

break

her. She was already shattered by Dama’s death and Esli’s disappearance, but this would crush the pieces. For the sake of our kingdom and our

mother

, you

will

behave.”

Kayleth looked at her sister in astonishment and mocking disbelief. “Really? Ama can’t be taken out! She was born to be the Dathir and the Council can’t take that away from her. Read the Lawbook, Essie.”

“You would know otherwise if you focused on your studies of law instead of galavanting around the kingdom, waving your sword about like a madman!” Estrada yelled, her voice growing louder with every word.

“I don’t go wave my sword about like a madman, I go out to look for my sister, something I don’t see you doing because you think our standing in the kingdom is more important than our sister. I don’t have

time

to focus on the complexities and little letters of law! The year is halfway up, and we’re running out of time to find her. So now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than argue with pretentious princesses who care more about their stature than family.”

As Kayleth walked away, an angry saunter in her step, Estrada scowled. Ever since she was young, Kayleth had been selfish, doing whatever she wanted no matter the consequences to herself or other people. But soon, it was going to catch up with her.

With all of them

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Rona worried. Esli had decided that she wanted to learn

magic

in the

Northern Forest

. It was absurd!

Rona had taken care of her son until he was fourteen, when he was taken by Jared for his armada, and died as a result. But

this

had never happened! Probably because Jamie hadn’t even known

how

to do magic, but still. Concerning.

Now, Rona was following Esli through the palace walls—which Esli claimed had been closing in, literally—to go to the Northern Woods to meet her soon-to-be teacher, Leaf’n. Rona had met many of her son’s teachers; every interaction included a dreadfully awkward conversation and two very confused adults wondering what was going on. Rona was not looking forward to such an interaction.

However, as Rona followed the little Nithe girl through the not-closing walls, she found that Esli seemed to take to the middle of the hall, with hardly a regard for any servants or bystanders in her way. Esli had always been courteous and kind to anybody who passed, so why was she so worried? Did she

really

think that the walls were closing in on her? Was she frightened?

Rona banished the thoughts from her head as she followed the little girl through the halls of the dreaded fortress, not wanting to admit that something had happened to her charge.

Esli guided them through the gardens with ease that Rona didn’t know she possessed and started to talk on the way. “I think you’ll like Ee-ara, she’s really nice. Oh, and the wall might be a little bit scary but it’s alright…”

She continued her—probably—nervous rant all the way until the North Wall came into view. Rona had seen the border many times before and had even crossed over it once. She loathed to go back.

Esli waved brightly as a tall woman with greying hair came in view, a pair of large pruning shears in her hands. The woman—who Rona assumed was Ee-ara—turned around and waved back, a cheerful smile on her face.

“Why, you’re back so soon! And you’ve brought company as well. Would you like some tea?” The question was aimed at Rona, who believed that she looked very uncomfortable in the situation at hand (She was).

“No thank you. We’ve got to meet somebody,” Rona said, awkwardly sparing the older woman any details.

“Ah, I see. Well, give me just a moment and you’ll be able to go in no time!” Ee-ara put her shears in a loop in her belt and pushed a wall of vines away from the wall.

Esli watched in avid glee as Ee-ara pulled away the thick sheets of vines with hard pulls. Rona was surprised that she didn’t pull them free.

An old, rotting ladder appeared from behind the foliage, a few of the vines wrapped around it like the gnarled hands of grandfather clamped on a child’s arm. Rona doubted the old thing could hold her weight.

She looked down at her charge. “Are you sure this will work?”

The little Nithe girl nodded. “Yes. It will work.”

Rona gave a half-hearted exhale and started climbing.

Leaf’n was… a sight to behold. They were a tree-being, a person hewn from bark and leaves to be the embodiment of the forest. Rona had never once seen a person like them. What surprised her even more was that Leaf’n was kind. They were bright and knowledgeable as the ancient gods and goddesses of old, strong as the olden mountains to the west, and kind as the breeze that swept through the glen.

They greeted the two warmly, with an even warmer pot of tea ready to be poured. While Rona and Leaf’n discussed the details of Esli’s learning, the little girl herself busied herself with looking at a few equations scribbled on a piece of paper. Rona knew that Esli hardly knew what the mind-puzzling equations meant, but she analyzed them nonetheless.

By the end of the dreary meeting, Leaf’n had pulled out three glasses and a dark bottle that Rona was delighted to see. “Wine from the Shield. Straight from the Nithe kingdom of Eowa. I’ve been waiting to have it for quite some time.”

Leaf’n poured two of the glasses with the burgundy liquid and the third with more tea. They handed Rona one of the glasses of wine and the tea to Esli, who stared deep into the warm, rippling surface. “Thank you, Mr. Leaf’n.”

Leaf’n nodded and took a sip of their own drink before putting the cork back in the bottle. They smiled, full of content. “Now that’s wonderful. But we must say that this arrangement

must

be kept secret, lest Jared take… drastic measures.”

Rona took a sip of her own drink and nodded. “He’ll never know.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The trip back to the Fortress was uneventful. By then, the sun had begun to set and the moon reared its pale head to peak at any late-night travelers and revelers. Rona was

delighted

that the meeting with Leaf’n was over. It wasn’t that they were rude or unsavory, but Rona just hated meetings in general.

Esli skipped along in her childish glee, the shrinking walls far from her mind. She rambled on about the purple mixture she had made, and how the bubbles looked like tiny fishes were blowing out air in the bowl. Rona listened aptly, not wanting to let another component in Esli’s story fade away.

Once Esli had run out of story to tell, she began to ask questions that Rona hardly had the answer for. Those being, “What are we having for dinner?” And, “What am I learning after the knives?”

Rona smiled warmly, patting the girl’s head. “We’ll sneak in the kitchens for a treat. I can’t cook very well, and I really don’t want to.”

“I know!”

Rona made a face. “Thanks, little one.”

Esli grinned up at her. Rona grinned back.

However, the peaceful reverie of the moment was broken by a loud shout of, “Look out!” and a huge, russet

thing

came rolling down the thin stairs the two were walking down. It

clanked

against the stairs and walls as it slid down, and Rona stared at the huge thing for a moment before grabbing Esli’s hand and pulling her down the stairwell as fast as she could. Little Esli seemed that she just couldn’t keep up, her small legs moving as fast as possible, but still not fast

enough.

If Rona could just get to another level connected to the stairwell they would be alright.

“Hurry, little one!” Rona shouted, pulling Esli harder. Rona could her small breaths heaving faster than the wind.

Suddenly, a wide space appeared to their left; another floor. From the floor, the hand of a man was outstretched, ready to grab them both. “Take my hand!” he shouted, his fingers stretched as far as they would go. Rona shoved Esli forward through the doorway and finally threw herself inside, breathing hard.

The man, who was also breathing heavily, turned to Rona and her charge. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly, his almond eyes upturned with worry. Rona thought he looked vaguely similar to Jamie, with his olive skin and brown eyes.

“I’m fine, thank you. I really do appreciate your help. But we’ve got to be going now,” Rona said. She

really

didn’t want to be asked why she and her charge were out so late at night, roaming the halls of the Fortress.

“It’s no problem. Here, I’ll lead you down the stairs,” he offered, and Rona felt obligated to oblige him. Rona knelt down to Esli’s level and lightly brushed the hair out of her face. “Are you alright?”

Esli nodded quickly, her breathing still coming in short gasps. Rona patted her shoulder lightly. “We’ll get you some tea when we get home, does that sound good?”

Esli nodded again and the assassin, her charge, and her new friend started down the stairs. A loud

clunk-smash!

told Rona that the thing that had been following them had landed on the ground floor and was now reduced to small shards and pieces. Rona assumed it was some sort of clay pot.

The man left the floor and headed down right after Esli, and Rona after him. While he might have saved their lives, Rona didn’t know enough about him. She wanted to watch him and make sure he wouldn’t try anything…

stupid.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what the man had planned. Only a minute after going down the stairs again, he shoved Esli forward down the stone steps. Esli fell with a scream, rolling down the jagged steps in an almost comical fashion. In just a moment, a knife was embedded in the back of the man’s neck and Rona was dashing down the stairs again.

When Rona reached the bottom of the stairwell, Esli was lying on the ground on her side, a pool of blood encircling her head like a gruesome halo.

“Oh, shitshitshitshit!” Rona cried, running to pick Esli up and take her to the Healing Wing of the Fortress. She didn’t know if Edith would still be on shift, but even if she wasn’t, Esli still needed to be cared for.

Rona ran as fast she could, past guards and servants alike. A few stared at her as she passed, but none took any heed. Soon, the doors of the Healing Wing came into view and Rona shoved past the doors, shouting, “Edith! Anybody! We’ve got a problem here!”

A different nurse—Jason was his name?—turned around from his desk, and, after seeing the state of the little girl, rushed to take her. Jason gently laid her down on one of the oversized hospital beds and asked Esli, “Can you hear me, honey?”

Esli gave a weak, “Hmm.”

“Alright. How do you spell ‘ fish’?” Jason asked.

Esli blinked slowly. “F-I-S-H.”

Jason nodded. “Very good. Now, what’s two plus two?”

“Four.”

“Great. Now, do you think you can sit up?” Jason asked as he pried open Esli’s eyelid to take a look at her pupil.

He turned to Rona. “She’s got a concussion,” he whispered, “she needs to stay here for the night.”

Rona nodded. “When will she recover?”

“Normally concussions should take a few weeks to heal on their own, but I recommend she stay away from any physical activities and get some sleep. After she gets back home, let her stay there for a while.”

Rona nodded. “No exercise?”

“No. I wouldn’t recommend too much mental strain, either. Just go over some subjects that she’s doing pretty good in, as a review.”

Rona nodded. But what about her new magic lessons? Rona didn’t know if those counted as mental or physical strain, but she certainly knew that climbing that wall counted as a physical activity.

For a dense moment, Rona stood there like a statue, not saying a word and passively waiting for any more information. Finally, Jason turned to Rona and whispered that she could leave. Rona did so reluctantly, not wanting to let the little girl out of her sight. However, with Jason’s impervious glare, Rona did as she was told.
 
Esli had been at the Fortress with Rona for six months, or around that. It made no sense for the little living space to feel so barren without her little pen scratching at paper, or her little fingers turning the pages of a book. A stack of addition textbooks and a fantasy novel sat on the table by the fireplace, the cold embers darkening the room.

Rona couldn’t bear it. It was

too

quiet. There weren’t enough inconsequential questions abo
ut the wind or the heat of the sun, only dreary silence. It made Rona’s thoughts all the more loud. When Esli had first been sent to the Hospital Wing, Rona had wanted to help her, but she hadn’t felt such an overwhelming sense of anxiety.

On the dining table, Esli’s unfinished subtraction work lay undisturbed, a scribble of a leaf drawn on the page in intricate detail. Rona sighed. Why did this little girl’s future look so dim? Why would Jared condemn such an innocent thing to a fate of villainy and pain? Rona hated Jared with every fiber of her being, every beat in her cold heart, and every thought in her darkened mind. Jared had made her life

miserable.

Nobody had forced his hand to kill her son or to snatch her from her father’s embrace. He was malicious, a horrid creature spawned from every hell combined.

Every instance when Rona thought back on her life, Jared was always at the center of her misfortune. Rona had hated Jared for a good,

long

while, but she felt as if she could do something with her hatred. Esli knew that Jared was horrible, frightening to her, even. Esli disliked Jared, but it was petty dislike, something she harbored often with other people. But Rona knew that Jared would soon begin his teachings, educating—however begrudgingly—Esli in the ways of dark magic.

Rona had seen Jared decimate entire city blocks on the Island with only a chant of jagged syllables and a raised hand. He had gathered thirty other citizens behind them, and as he started his spell, they all collapsed, one by one. When Jared had finished, he had told his men to depose of the bodies and burn them, and to leave the charred bones in the dungeons. There was an entire room filled to the brim with blackened, human bones in the deepest part of the dungeons. Rona had no idea why Jared had kept the morbid reminders of his crimes locked away in his gruesome basement, but she suspected that to him, it felt like a trophy.

Rona wanted to prevent Esli from seeing Jared as a leader, as a person to look up to. She needed Esli to know that any decent person or being should not seek to cause harm but to remedy it. A person of integrity should always strive to be kind, to help those should the need arise. Jared could

never

be considered a man of integrity, but neither could Rona. Rona had killed and would kill again. She never enjoyed it, in fact, she hated it. She knew what pain it would bring. Her hand was forced by the cruel actions of a malicious madman. She had never thought that her life would end up being that of the mur
derer.

Stop wallowing in your misfortune! Now is not the time for pity parties! You have a child to protect. What will happen to her in the future? She will not be able to handle this place without guidance. You must

leave.

Take her and

run.

For the sake of your little girl and for the sake of yourself, you must

go.

The thoughts spun in her head like a violent spinning top, restless and quick. The voice in her head sounded like the disembodied whisper of the trees to the north. Rona found that she didn’t really care if it was the trees or her own mind; she knew that they were right. Esli would not be able to thrive in such a small-minded world.

Rona nodded to herself, the dim and dying flicker of the fire in the wall reflecting her own thoughts. They

had

to go. But Rona couldn’t figure out how. Would they escape in one of the cargo ships heading for the Shield? Would they go through the Forest and leave from the tip of the island? There was always the threat of ice that far north, as well as the savage beasts that lived in the forest. However, Rona was starting to doubt the existence of those beasts; she and Esli had made their way through the woods with ease.

A cargo ship would be too risky, and she couldn’t figure out how to bring a ship from the harbor to the forest. Rona sighed. Her plans would have to wait.

But if her plans for leaving would have to wait, she could work on her plans for staying. When Jamie was young, Rona had made him a list of rules for things to do and things to not do. Jamie had been a very smart little boy, and knew not to do certain things without being told. Rona doubted Esli would be the same. The little Nithe girl didn’t seem to know the rules.

Rona dropped a dry log into the fireplace and went to find a piece of paper. She would need lots of it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Rona hated boats.

They were cramped, dirty, and stuffed with other people that she never got along with.

The first time Rona had been on a boat overseas, she had been horribly sick almost every day, which she accounted the illness for the choppy waves and ill-tasting food. Later, she figured out it was morning sickness, but still. She hated it.

But then, for her first trip

off

of the Island, she was ill too, so she just had bad luck when it came to water.

This trip was no different. About an hour after setting sail, the nausea had overwhelmed her hard-earned resolve and she dashed to the edge of the ship’s railing. Rona hated vomit. It was half-digested food along with the stomach acids going out of a person’s mouth. It tasted horrible, it felt horrible, and it smelled horrible.

Later, some kind soul—which was difficult to find in Rona’s line of work—brought her a little stool. She was

immensely

grateful for whoever had given it to her.

As the worst of the nausea passed, Rona stared out into the lightening horizon. She pondered her mission. Esli knew what she was going to go do; it was in her job description, which Rona had told the little girl not long after she arrived.

Now that Rona was there, no turning back, she felt like a traitor. A liar. Rona had told Esli time and time again that the killing—the

murder

—of innocent, sentient beings was horrible. Ruthlessly unforgivable. And yet, here Rona was, just on her way to go murder a few innocent, sentient beings.

What would Esli think? Rona hated to admit it, but ever since that little girl had donned that huge shirt and faked her reading, Rona loved her. Not as a replacement for her Jamie, no one could ever replace him, but as another child. One wholly different but still deserving of love and affection. Rona had never thought she would want children. She had met plenty of people who had decided they didn’t want little ones at their feet, and they stuck to that promise. Edith had no family; she didn’t want to bring something into a world that Jared ruled so ruthlessly.

Rona understood good and well that the girl wouldn’t have lived if she had had that baby. There would have been complications. Edith had seen enough to know it well.

Rona knew that some things were up to other people, that it was their decision, but she knew that if she could get her son back, she’d pitch herself into fire herself.

Her mind wandered back to Esli. Had she had her lesson with Leaf’n yet? Was she eating her breakfast? Was Azalea going to keep her promise of taking care of Esli?Rona hated to leave her alone without her or Edith, but the consequences if she didn’t go were far too grave for her to stay.

Rona felt like a hypocrite as she gazed at the rising sun, the bright, yellow ball stinging her eyes. She had done her job tens of times before if not hundreds. But this time, it was different.

It wasn’t just some foolish human general stirring trouble in Jared’s investments or a silly Nithe prince with visions of grandeur, no, this was more important. Jared needed the royal family of Ionmir

eliminated.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Leaf’n could feel the apprehension rolling of their apprentice in waves. They wanted to be somebody Naris could trust, somebody she could open up to, but Naris had to be willing.

“Is there something on your mind, Naris?”

Naris seemed to shrink in her little blue tunic, trying to hide from the question. “Are you sure?” she almost whispered, just loud enough to be heard.

Leaf’n sat down on the floor and felt their wooden legs bend and creak and they adjusted their position. “You can tell me anything you want me to know, and don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want me to know. I simply want to help.”

Naris sat down on the floor as well, fidgeting with her sleeves. “Well, Rona left today, to go do her job.”

Leaf’n nodded. “I see.”

The
trees whispered in their ear,

She sails to Tanvi.

To ill fortune.

Leaf’n felt like a few leaves had wilted in their tree. “And you know what she will do?”

Naris nodded. “She told me, but she didn’t tell me

who.

”

Leaf’n nodded. They weren’t going to tell the little girl who her guardian was going to kill, even if they suspected. They didn’t know if the mention of her family would bring back unhappy memories or not, and they did not want to find out.

Leaf’n’s thoughts disappeared as Naris muttered, “I’m worried about my work.”

“Your work?” they thought, raising a stiff brow.

“My math work. But I don’t really want to do it here,” Naris said, again, barely audible.

“Well, why not? I can help you if you want it,” Leaf’n said. The girl was a mystery.

She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. It had gotten longer since she had first come, from her collarbone and now down to her elbows. She would probably have to cut it if Jared saw.

"It’s just… you know how certain places just feel

good?”

Naris said, gesturing with her hands.

They nodded. “Yes.” Their mother’s garden felt happy, when Leaf’n and their adopted siblings would run around and cause havoc, pulling leaves off of plants and through tufts of grass at each other.

“Well, this place feels happy. And I don’t want to dread coming here all because of the math work that I can’t seem to figure out. I like being happy here,” Naris sighed.

“Have you asked anyone else for help? I’m sure that they’d be delighted.”

Naris shook her head. “If I asked anybody else—besides you or Ee-ara, I mean—they’d probably yell at me.”

Leaf’n didn’t know what to do. They didn’t know what to say. If Naris didn’t want to learn in his classroom and didn’t want to ask anybody else, how would the girl learn?

“Naris, I’ll give you what I think. Even if the majority of the people surrounding you dislike you, there has to be at least one who can help. So who is the person at the Fortress that dislikes you the least?” Leaf’n asked.

“Ee-ara. Or maybe Azalea.” She paused. “But I don’t know if–”

Leaf'n
 held up a hand and the girl quieted. “Esli, you’ll never know if you don’t try. Should worse come to worst, I’m sure Rona will help you when she comes back.”

“Alright.” The girl still seemed tense.

“Is there anything else on your mind?” Leaf’n wondered.

Naris seemed to think and consider for a moment before finally speaking. “Why am I so bad at math? The trees told me that everybody was good at something and not so good at others, but I don’t get it. I feel like I want a more logical explanation.”

“Well, Naris, like the trees said, everybody has their own special skills, of these, all of them are different. However, there are more variables in this equation than one might expect. Different experiences can shape the way how a person views certain things. People are all different, including their brains. Brain chemistry affects the way people can learn new things. Head trauma can also cause your brain to, in simple terms, ‘be weird.’”

Naris nodded. “So something could have happened that made me not good at math?”

Leaf’n considered the statement. “Well, not exactly. Again, there are other variables. A person’s brain could just be like that.”

Naris nodded. “Alright then.” She stood. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

Leaf’n stood as well, their roots stretching to stand. “Remember, Naris, be sure not to use too much of the potion at one time. You’ll get sick. Now, take care, and be sure not to trip on any roots outside.” They gently patted Naris on the shoulder and the young girl left, her potion syrups clutched in her small hands.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli had an idea.
She didn’t really know if it was a good one, though. Ever since that “accident” where Esli had taken a tumble down the stairs, it seemed like her already horrible skills at arithmetic had decreased, which Esli didn’t think was possible. And it felt like the things she was supposed to do were simple! Adding two or more numbers wasn’t that hard! But still.

After Leaf’n had told her that her aversion towards numbers

could

have been caused by that concussion, as Rona had called it, Esli knew that she might have a solution. And now that she had a healing potion at her disposal, she could use it and see if it would fix her head.

As Esli toddled back towards the wall, the trees whispered to her.

That is foolish!

Ignorant!

That is a bad idea!

That is for emergencies only!

“What are you talking about?” Esli asked, feigning her ignorance. Rona had said that she was very good at “masking her expressions”, which Esli had realized was a good thing to fool Jared into thinking that she

hadn’t

knocked over stand of armor.

We hear your thoughts!

Foolish!

Foolish!

Wrong!

“

What

are you talking about? When I get home, I’m going to bed. I don’t see anything foolish about sleep, do you?” Esli asked the trees, who seemed to sway in agitation.

You are exempting the truth.

“But I’m not! Now, do you have anything other than accusations to throw my way?”

The trees swayed again, their leaves rustling and a few
 falling to the ground.

We

have new verses.

“Oh, do you?” Esli asked, her brow raised. It wasn’t often that the trees sang to her anymore. They seemed to prefer talking than singing.

Young and old,

Right from wrong, was never told.

Mighty and vain, traveling like the flowing wind

Foolish, brave,

The worst of things, all together.

Though new to the earth, still the curse upon the land.

Lord of the Castle,

Lord of the Island,

Lord of the Evil,

Never one to fulfill his debts,

Nfalling to the ground.

ever to show his kindness

King

of the Horrors,

King of Cruelty,

King of Enemy!

Of the Queen’s descent,

Shame to his name, to his people.

Stole his teachings like a thief in the night,

He destroys our power,

Confines us to this wretched cage,

But soon, one day soon, we are to be saved.

Lord of the Castle,

Lord of the Island,

Lord of the Evil,

Always lying to his people,

Always using his curses.

King of Filth,

King of Anger,

King of wretchedness!

One day, soon, we will be saved!

"What do you mean? ‘We will be saved’?” Esli wondered. She knew that the wall stopped the trees’ magic from going any further, but who was the king of wretchedness, the king of filth?

Later.

We are tired.

Later.

The trees’ voices fell silent as Esli continued on her way down the path, following the twinkling lights once again. Soon enough, the dark wall came back into view. One last tree who still seemed to be awake helped her up the wall, keeping her steady and holding her bottle as she grabbed onto the vines.

Esli held the bottle tightly as she scrambled down the wall on the other side, hoping that Ee-ara was still there. And, lo and behold, sitting on her usual bench, was Ee-ara, a thick roll of yarn by her side and twin needles in her hands, clacking away and creating a wide rectangle.

As Esli quietly shimmied down the wall, the woman said, “What is your bounty for today?”

Esli dropped to the ground with a huff, almost falling to the ground. “A healing potion. I think it should come in handy one day.”

Ee-ara nodded and looked up from her yarn-work, her hands still knotting and needles still pulling. “And you’ll be responsible?

Esli nodded. Why did everybody think that she was going to use the potion for something weird? “I’ll be even more responsible than Leaf’n, don’t you worry.”

Ee-ara

hmm

ed and stood, finally putting away her little rectangle and standing stiffly. She crackled her back as she stood and finally spoke again. “Come now, let’s head to your house. It’s gotten dark.”

Ee-ara had never helped Esli home before. Usually Rona was there when Esli got back, so they would go together. Esli suspected that Ee-ara was just going with her in Rona’s stead.

As they walked through the many yards around the Fortress, Ee-ara was silent.Esli felt a little bit too worn out by her talk with Leaf’n to speak, so she stayed silent as well. As they walked inside through the back door, the guards didn’t seem to notice them, staring into their own little oblivions and ignoring them completely.

“Keep quiet, little one,” Ee-ara whispered, holding her finger to her lips.

Esli nodded.

Soon enough, the dark door of Rona’s apartment came into view. Ee-ara patted Esli on the arm and wished her goodnight. When Esli opened the door,

she immediately
closed it. Somebody was inside! Esli knew for certain that Ee-ara had already turned the corner, and she knew that this was her house, so what was a person doing there?

Esli peered inside again, and saw that the person was standing in the kitchen, and seemed to be swaying to some unheard sound. Esli took a deep breath, mustering the courage to step inside. She pulled the tiny throwing knife from her pocket and stepped inside. She closed the door, but, as always, it made it’s automatic

screee scree screeeeeeeak.

The person turned around, and Esli realized that it was not actually some intruder, but Azalea, standing in the kitchen making dinner. She didn’t seem fazed by Esli outstretched blade, and instead took the pan in her hand and mixed it, still facing Esli. “Oh, you’re back! Rona had told me that you spent some time with Ee-ara and would come home late. But I’m making dinner, it’s noodles, you’ll like it. Go get cleaned up and we can eat soon.”

Esli released a relieved sigh and breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of garlic and something unidentified. Esli made her way to the bathroom and delicately put the potion in the closet, not wanting to make a noise for some unknown reason, even to her. Esli stood on her tiptoes and turned on the spigot, a tiny stream of water going through the metal pipe. She washed her hands and face and went back to the living room, where the fire roaring and warm.

As she dried her hands on her trousers, Esli went back to the little kitchen where Azalea just seemed to be finishing up the dinner of pale noodles and a dark sauce with little green circles on top. Esli had no idea what the circles were. She just wanted her noodles.

Azalea looked down at the little girl, who was trying to take a noodle from the bowl. Esli stared up at Azalea as she watched her slurp up a noodle, both of them staring at each other. As Esli stared deeper into Azalea’s eyes, she felt her mouth burn with the spicy sauce. Azalea grinned. “And that’s what happens when we steal noodles, Esli.” The nurse took a cup of water from counter and handed it to Esli, who drank it happily.

“That’s the chili oil. That was my bowl, so I wanted it extra spicy. Your’s is much less so,” Azalea said, and Esli nodded.

“Sorry for taking your noodle,” Esli said, still staring up at the woman. For a brief moment, the two simply stared at each other before Esli burst into a fit of giggles and Azalea followed.

After their giggles had stopped, Azalea smiled and handed Esli a bowl of her noodles. Esli was just about to grab a saucy noodle with her fingers before Azalea tapped her wrist with a pair of chopsticks. “We use utensils in this household, little one.”

"But
you’re not part of this household,” Esli retorted, trying to figure out how to use them. Azalea showed her how, placing the utensils in her hand and eating her noodles calmly, no hesitation at the spiciness that Esli had had such an adverse reaction to.

Instead of eating at the dinner table as Rona preferred, they sat on the small sofa, chatting as they ate. Esli still found her noodles slightly spicy, but tasty nonetheless. She wondered why Rona never made anything like this. Rona had only made noodles once, and it was a noodle soup.

Esli hesitantly ate her dinner while Azalea regaled her with her day in the hospital. One of gardeners had cut his fingers almost clean off, and a guard had a dislocated shoulder from breaking up a fight between a few cadets.

Every once in a while Esli saw the cadets—soldiers and guards in training—around the fortress, but they usually kept to the other side of the island unless they were visiting for something, maybe as a formal training class or for a graduation. Esli had been to a graduation about two months ago, where each new soldier had to pledge his allegiance to Jared with a cut on their forearm. If Jared deemed them worthy, he would heal them, and if not, he would let them bleed. Jared never healed the wounds enough to take away the scarring. Each soldier had a deep scar on his arm as a testament to his loyalty. If he especially hated them, he’d have them cut their other wrist. Afterwards, all of the accepted men would walk through the middle of the room, straight through the puddle of blood, and track their footsteps along the Island, where they would

take a hike along the whole enchanted wall. Their hike symbolized that they would spill their blood or their fellow’s away from home should they be called.

Three soldiers that time had died because of Jared. Rona had tried to tell Esli look away from the whole thing, but she was curious. By the end, the floor was a bloody mess and the bodies of the fallen sat discarded, still leaking from their arms. The rest of the new soldiers—61 of them, after Jared’s decision—marched through the lake of their own blood and tracked it through the wide door, through the yards, and finally to the wall, where Ee-ara still sat. The old woman had told Esli that they had marched right past her, the tips of their dark boots shining in the noonday light.

Azalea grinned when she told Esli about the shout the man had made. None of staff in the Fortress had any fondness for the soldiers and guards that prowled the halls. They were rude and abrasive, and had no qualms with yelling at anybody. Rona and Esli’s apartment was a good ways away from the soldier’s and guard’s quarters, which Esli was grateful for. However, that never stopped anybody from coming inside unannounced. Esli had no idea why people would just walk through the door, with no invitation, but she always hid under her bed when they did. It was demeaning, but they never found her. In fact, Esli was always so swift, that she never even got to see who it was. But Rona had

told her enough times that she would knock twice on the door before coming it, and the wouldn’t even knock. But still, Esli didn’t want to test her luck by staying around to find out.

Azalea ate another noodle. “So what did you do today?”

Esli shrugged, a saucy string halfway out of her mouth. “I sthpoke with Ee-ara an’ tried to do my math, but I’m not the besth.”

“I can help, if you want,” Azalea said, placing her bowl in her lap.

Esli gaped. “You will?”

Azalea nodded. “I’m going to be here in the morning to get you up and help with breakfast, so I’ll be there.”

For the rest of the time that Azalea was there, she cleaned up dinner and put a few more logs in the fire. Then, she placed a kiss to her pal and patted Esli’s head, wishing her a good night.

Esli couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saytha could not wait a moment more. The last time he had seen his best friend, it had been to help search for his youngest sister, little Esli, who had vanished. The whole trip had been dismal and bleak, and Adirous had seemed tired and mournful, which was to be expected as his father had just died a few months before and his little sister was missing.

Now, Saytha hoped that it would be better. He didn’t want to dismiss the search for the missing Dathus, but the chances of her still being alive dwindled every day. Nonetheless, even if Saytha would have to go on another trip, he would for the sake of his friendship.

Daytha draped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, grinning as they made their way from the library to the secret garden. The garden was where the brothers spent lots of their time, planting flowers and picking herbs and fruit. Their mother would take them there before she died, but now it just seemed right to keep taking care of it.

“Alright, brother,” Daytha said, “so what’s our plan? How are we going to make this trip miserable for our father?”

Saytha cast a questioning glance towards his brother. “Since when has our objective

ever

been to bring Dama chaos?”

Daytha shrugged. “Dunno. Just seems like that’s what usually do.”

Daytha sighed. “Alright, you little gremlin, do you swear that Dama will not be involved in our antics this time?”

“Cut my throat and eat my liver. And anyway, we do not partake in

antics.

We enjoy… playful jaunts and cheery tricks,” Saytha corrected, patting his brother on the back and removing his arm from his shoulders.

Daytha looked at the Nithe beside him. “You are full of it,” he grinned.

“Of enthusiasm, you mean.”

“Yeah, that and–”

“Boys!” a voice shouted.

The twins turned around, their eyes wide at the prospect of being caught discussing their antics, no matter the name.

Walking briskly towards them was their Uncle Sam, looking bright. His greying hair was tangled with little twigs and leaves and seemed delighted for some inexplicable reason. “Are you both ready to go?”

Saytha nodded. He was eager to get going. “Indeed, we are simply discussing our activities while traveling.”

Uncle Sam raised a brow. “Are you now?”

Saytha jabbed his brother in the ribs and Daytha grinned, a sense of mischief and jokes gone from his expression. “Yes, Uncle. All of our things are ready to go. But what about Dama? Is he well?”

Uncle Sam waved the question off, and Saytha almost grinned, their thoughts on mischief now being forgotten. “Oh, Aytha’s fine, he just hasn’t been out of his office in a while. Now that you mention it, he might not know that today’s the day we’re leaving.” Uncle Sam tapped his chin in thought, still unaware of his disheveled state.

“Um, Uncle Sam?” Saytha asked.

Sam looked up and out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“You’ve got a little something up there,” Saytha said, patting his head.

Sam smacked his dark hair and was suddenly surprised at the appearance of the twigs and leaves. “Oh! Thanks for that! It’d be weird if I went to see Aytha with dirt in my hair.” Sam pulled a few twigs from his hair and turned back to his nephews. “Better?”

Saytha and Daytha nodded in unison, ignoring the three more leaves and two more twigs sprouting from their uncle’s crown. Sam nodded and grinned, heading back to where he was heading. Once he was out of sight, the two turned to each other and their serene façade faded. Saytha burst into laughter, leaning on his brother for support. Not a moment later, Daytha followed. A few servants passed, looking concerned, but Saytha paid them no mind. If the twin Dathas were laughing with no provocation, it didn’t bode well for any person within the palace.

Later, when they had finally found their way to the garden, they gathered a few apples from the tree and discussed their plans of pranks.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli was bored. She had thrown her knives so much that her arms hurt. She had run around in the most lonely section of the training grounds. She had eaten a sandwich. She had made her bed. She had swept the floor. She had even practiced a little bit with the tiny flute that Edith had given to her for her seventh birthday. Well, Rona had given it to her but Edith had bought it. Esli had considered reading to pass the time, but her mind just wasn’t into it.

She could visit Ee-ara, see what she was doing, maybe go see if she had a new brew of tea. Maybe go see Leaf’n and surprise them with a visit. He might have something to do.

Esli was

so

bored. There was nobody around to play with, no people her age, and asking any of the guards to entertain her would be a one-way ticket to the hospital, and the hope that Azalea was there.

The light from Esli’s room streamed through the open door in the living room, giving Esli a distant warmth. Esli had watered all of the plants (The tree in her room, the flower bush by the window in Rona’s room, the vine on her window, and the little succulents in the kitchen). Every time she got close to one of them, she just felt

better.

Like a weight was gone from her shoulders.

Esli thought for a moment before deciding. She was going to go see Ee-ara.

Ee-ara was in fine spirits when Esli got there. She had easily escaped any guards’ looking eyes and had eased out through one of the back doors. From there, the walk to Ee-ara was easy.

However, Ee-ara wasn’t alone that time. There was another woman there, with thick, dark hair and skin like snow holding a thin umbrella. Both of them sat on the bench, seemingly unfazed by Esli’s presence. Well, she

thought

they couldn’t see her. Could they?

Esli waited a few minutes more—which drew on like hours—before the white woman turned around with an angry scowl on her face and glared at Esli. However, it changed into surprise. “Oh, my goodness! Ee, since when have there been

children

in this hellhole?”

Ee-ara lightly hit her friend on the arm. “Isa! Watch your language! I doubt little Esli would like to hear such foul things.”

Esli grinned and toddled into view. “Oh, that’s okay. I know many words like that. Like–”

The white woman quickly put her hand to Esli’s mouth, effectively shutting her up. “Let’s not say those things in front of Ee-ara. She'll have a conniption.”

Esli nodded and the white woman dropped her hand. Ee-ara walked over to Esli and knelt on the ground, saying, “What are you doing here, Esli? Isn’t Rona there?”

Esli shook her head sadly. “Rona had to go do her job.”

Ee-ara sucked in a breath. “Ah. I see. Well,” she started, “would you like to join us for tea?”

Esi grinned. “I’d be delighted to, Miss Ee-ara!”

The white woman smiled. “Such a polite little girl. My name is Isabella, but you can call me Isa.”

Esli turned to the white woman and nodded. “Miss Isa, I’m Esli. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Likewise, little one. Now come, sit down, the tea will get cold.”

The conversations with Ee-ara and Isa—who Esli learned was Ee-ara’s sister—were very interesting. Isa spoke of their brother, who was the head of the household, and about how he would shut up about some game he was playing.

Isa also had an interest in speaking badly about Jared, which Esli quite liked.

Mainly, the two women gossiped about almost everything. Nobility, kings and queens from distant lands, fathers in the sky, almost anything. However, when the topic of Esli learning magic from Jared came up, Isa seemed unhappy.

“

Jared?

You’re going to let

him

teach her? Even be near her? Are you out of your boose-addled mind?” she said, almost shouting.

“Quiet down, Isa! And it’s not like I have any choice in the matter. I can’t interfere!” Ee-ara protested. Esli, who sat between them, looked up at the arguing women and found that it was

very

entertaining.

“Like hell you do! You’re a–”

“

Quiet, Isa.

” Ee-ara’s voice turned icy, like what Esli thought the northern tip of the island would be in the winter. Last winter, the Island hadn’t changed too much. There wasn’t any snow, but it did get cold. Rona had warned Esli that she

could not go into the water.

When they had gone to the beach, Esli had put a toe in the water and immediately leaped back, surprised by the cold. She didn’t remember any time when she had been so cold, but she sort of remembered a major dislike of being in the water, especially when it was so cold.

Isa turned to her sister, seemingly unhappy. “Well. I’m just saying that you don’t have to deal with this.”

“I can’t interfere, Isa. You know that as well as I do,” Ee-ara said, calmly sipping her tea.

“What do you mean by interfere?” Esli asked. All of these words made no sense to her. Esli knew that nobody could interfere with Jared’s plans, even if they wanted to. Rona had told her repeatedly that Jared was

not

somebody to look up to; not somebody to trust. While Esli hated Jared, she still had to treat him with calm indifference, as Rona had told her.

Ee-ara smiled warmly, which Esli noticed she did a lot. “We cannot tell Jared what to do, little one, nobody can.”

“Exactly,” Isa said, nodding with a seriousness that Esli hadn’t seen before.

Long moments passed in silence. Isa spoke. “Esli, do you, by chance, know how to use throwing knives?”

Esli beaned and pulled a small dagger out of her boot. Rona had told her to put it there just in case. She didn’t really know why. “Yeah! Rona told me to bring one wherever I went, and I’m getting pretty good at throwing them. I’ve seen Rona use her knives up close to people, but she says I’m not ready for that yet.”

Isa nodded. “I know you’ll be up to the challenge soon. But would you like to practice with me? I’ve grown a little rusty in my negligence.”

Esli leaped up from the bench, almost knocking over the teapot on the ground. “That would be great!”

Isa stood and closed her linen umbrella and leaned it against the bench beside her sister. Esli got a good look at her then. She wore a dress of dark blue and purple, with heeled leather boots and a silver buckle on each. She was, by no means, a wilting flower, as Rona had called many of the nobles that had passed. Her dress had no sleeves, exposing her muscled arms. The neckline of her dress was sort of low, which reminded Esli of a sketchbook that Rona had left in the living room. She had large, almond eyes the color of the tea that Rona and Ee-ara would drink, and a short, up-lifted nose. Her hair was pulled into a waterfall-like pile on top of her head, from the mound, strands falling down like a willow’s leaves.

Esli thought she was beautiful.

Isa smiled and led Esli through more grassy fields, and Esli was suddenly grateful that there wasn’t a guard in sight. Isa pointed to a large, shady oak tree close to the huge wall. “Our target?” she asked.

Esli was hesitant. She didn’t feel comfortable throwing a dagger at a living, photosynthesizing tree. But when she looked around, she found that they could either throw knives at the wall, or each other. Esli shrugged. “Alright.”

From a pocket in her dress, Isa pulled out a knife. Esli had

never

seen a weapon so beautiful. The blade looked like it was made of pure silver, and the hilt a soft leather with the brightest gold loop that Esli had ever seen. When Esli pulled out her little dirk, she was suddenly embarrassed.

Isa gently guided Esli into position. “Go ahead. Aim for right in the middle.”

Esli nodded and held the very bottom of the knife lightly, light enough for it to fall out of her hand. Her palms felt sweaty. Esli had never thrown a knife in front of someone other than Rona. Why was she so nervous?

With a deep breath, Esli threw the little knife, and, much to her chagrin, the butt hit the bark of the tree, and the blade fell to the ground. Esli felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. Wasn’t she supposed to be good at this? She had been practicing for the better part of the year.
Isa just smiled and told her. “You go get it. Let’s keep practicing.”And so, that was how they continued for most of the evening. Ee-ara went about snipping at the hedges and pruning the gardens around them, and Esli and Isa would each throw a knife at the tree. If one of them missed (Isa didn’t even miss once), they would keep throwing until the knife stuck. Esli, with her little girl strength, took far more turns than Isa. Before long, her shoulder burned with exertion. When the sun was starting to set, painting a lovely, orange glow across the sky, Ee-ara came over with her shears and told Isa that it was time for her to go“Do you have to go?” Esli asked, unhappy about the fun being stopped.Isa patted Esli on the head. “Well, we all must listen to our sisters, you know. But I’ll be back soon. And don’t you have a lesson today?”Esli’s eyes widened and she nodded. “Leaf’n said that today, we’re gonna make–”Isa put a finger to her lips. “Quiet now, little one. I’ll see you later, alright?”

Esli nodded. Leaf’n would be waiting.

After Ee-ara had helped Esli up the wall, as she always did, the trees helped Esli down onto the leaf-scattered forest floor. As she walked the trees whispered. Whenever Esli was going through the woods, they always seemed to be saying something. It could be an odd song, or sad poetry, but Esli’s favorite was when they simply spoke to each other or asked Esli questions.

Summer is soon.

We yearn for sun.

We are disheartened by so much moon.

And in the summer, oh the fun!

In the summer, we are drier than prunes,

But, oh, do we delight in the sun!

Esli grinned at their wordy rhymes and wished she could come up with something like that. Of all of the books that she had read, they all were so… elegant. It was like the words were strung together with a fine string and woven into a grand tapestry fit for even Jared’s throne room. Even though she was surrounded by such beautiful words, Esli still couldn’t seem to bring any of them together for herself. That was why Esli liked the trees’ verses so much. She could listen to them without scanning the words on a page.

Little Naris, what have you done?

The trees didn’t often explain what they meant.

“Well, today, I went to see Ee-ara and me and her sister had fun.” Esli decided not to mention her and Isa throwing knives at a living tree.

We are glad.

Have you practiced your growth?

Esli grinned. She had been practicing her skills in helping the little plants in her and Rona’s house grow more quickly. They always seemed to get bigger every time Esli walked past them. “Of course I have! Rona still makes me water them, though, even though they don’t really need it.”

Even a satisfied man will accept a cup of water.

Esli shrugged. “Even so. I think it’s tedious.”

Your words are growing.

Much like those little shrubs.

The ones you call plants.

Esli raised a joking brow. “Excuse you! My plants are quite nice.”

Nice, indeed.

Esli grinned at the trees’ acceptance. Esli had been practicing her magical skills for around half of the year, and Leaf’n had proved to be a lovely teacher. They would let her help when they needed to repair one of the mighty tree’s roots or let her relabel the bottles on their shelf. As long as the labels were accurate, of course. Esli liked to put little sparkles and doodles on the paper labels before Leaf’n would glue them to the bottles.

Have you finished your work?

Esli sighed. Only something as ancient as the trees would ask if Esli had done her homework. “Do you want me to be truthful?”

Every time.

Esli’s gaze dropped to her double-knotted boots. “No. But I can’t seem to understand it! It’s just like the numbers don’t seem to fit right in my books. The words do, but the numbers don’t.”

And Rona is absent.

“How do you know that?”

Our roots extend deeper.

Deeper than these simple plains of grasses.

Through the fields and murky river passes.

“Do you mean that you can speak to other trees through the water?” Esli asked excitedly, arithmetic forgotten.

Indeed.

And what of your work?

Leaf’n can benefit you.

“But then I’d have to add my schoolwork to the stuff I do with Leaf’n! That would just make it all unhappy. And I don’t want to make my magic lessons so…”

Negative.

Depressing.

Argumentative.

Stressing.

“Yes! I don’t want to change my magic lessons all because I can get a hold on my schoolwork,” Esli agreed.

Mmm.

Our Guardian is nearby.

She will assist.

We are sure.

“Do you mean Miss Ee-ara??”

She will avail.

“But would she understand it?”

Your work is simple.

Our Guardian is near all-knowing.

She will assist.

We are doubtless.

Esli sighed. “If it’s so simple, then why can’t I make sense of it?”

We are all different.

All peoples are different.

You are different.

We find difficulty in many things.

The horrid wall.

Keeping still.

Controlling our beast.

And you also have difficulty.

Commands.

Math.

Balance.

We all have differences.

Some are apparent.

Others, less so.

“How is that supposed to help?” Esli wondered, furrowing her brow.

In any way.

Any way you see fit.

Esli sighed. Then, in a wave of excitement, Esli grinned and skipped in her step. “Do you have a new word for me?”

As a way to entertain Esli on her walk to Leaf’n classes, the trees had taken to telling her foreign words and letting her guess the definition.

Mikio,

Naris.

Guess the supposition.

Leeh lam iy shu mikio?

Do you know?

Esli thought for a moment. The trees had delighted in teaching her this strange jumble of words that they called a language. She thought the first part was simple: to love me or.

It had to be something like “or hate me”. But the trees never gave her sentences split in half, so what? It had to be the direct opposite of love. So what was the opposite? Hate? Disgust? But neither of those fit the sentence!

“But it’s got to be contradictory!” Esli exclaimed, frowning slightly.

Yes.

Opposite.

“So hate?”

No.

One slash.

Esli frowned. If it wasn’t “bad”, then what was it?

She threw her arms up in defeat. “I don’t know. What is it? Tell me!”

Never.

“‘Never’? What do you mean, ‘never’? You’ll never tell me?” Esli pouted, crossing her arms as she stepped past a thick root.

Never.

“So you won’t tell me?”

Never.

The lock clicked into place. “Wait! You mean that the word is ‘never’!”

Indeed.

We are surprised.

We did not expect it to be so difficult.

Even for your dull skull.

“You’re impossible!

Leeh lam iy shu mikio.

To love me or never.” Esli looked up to the canopies. “That doesn’t flow well.”

Neither does your homework.

“Fine! I guess you win.”

We always are the victor.

We are many.

Blessed by the hallowed one.

Her presence is a balm.

“Yeah. I get it,” Esli nodded. The trees spoke of their guardian as a benevolent hand, hovering nearby should they need help. It was like their mother was holding them at an arm's distance, keeping them steady.

Do not disappoint.

Your guardian will greet you soon.

Esli felt a hot pang of anger in her chest. “How? Rona is across the water! She won’t be back for months.”

Little in the span of time.

“For you, maybe. But it’s going to take forever for her to get back!” Esli explained. The trees had hardly any concept of time, which meant that Esli had to explain it to them any time the subject came up.

Your destination approaches.

Esli sighed. “Thank you, trees, for taking me here.”

It is our pleasure, Naris.

The rustling in the leaves stilled and all was quiet as Esli strode towards the huge trunk of the tree. Leaf’n had told Esli more times than she could count that every tree in the huge forest was connected to the one in the center, like a ginormous web chart.

Everything

connected to that tree.

Esli knocked on the bark twice, as she always did. After two, agonizing minutes, the bark opened, revealing Leaf’n’s warm smile and wooden face. “Welcome, Esli. You are early today. What brings you by so quickly?”

Leaf’n used the roots at his feet to slide out of Esli’s way as she stepped inside. The classroom—as Esli called it—was in a small state of disarray, which was uncommon. Leaf’n must have always cleaned up before every lesson.

Esli reached towards the table to pick up a bottle, a dark residue lining the edges. But before her hand could take it, Leaf’n’s leafy fingers snapped at her wrist. “Hey!”

“Do not touch things that aren’t for class, you know that very well, Naris,” they recalled, taking the jar and sitting on top of the highest shelf.

“But I was just trying to help!” Esli explained, still rubbing her stinging wrist.

“I know, but you remember our rules. They…” Leaf’n let the sentence hang for Esli to finish.

“‘Keep us safe in our magical setting,’ I know,” Esli sulked, turning towards the wide fireplace.

Leaf’n gathered the rest of their ingredients in silence, putting them back on their respective shelves. Once they had finished, they turned to Esli. “Does your wrist still hurt?”

Esli hadn’t expected that. She had thought that he would continue their lesson as usual. “Not anymore,” she responded, still slightly shaken by the remark.

“Well, I am sorry. But you must–”

“Remember the rules?” Esli guessed, and Leaf’n nodded in agreement.

“Come now, Naris, I want to show you how to make your next potion,” they said, turning to the table where a little stool waited. It hadn’t been there before.

“What’s this one for? You showed me how to make the cooling one last time.” Esli sat down on the tall stool and silently noticed that her feet didn’t touch the floor, not even by a wide margin.

Leaf’n gestured to the small bowl on the table. “Now remind me, what are the basic ingredients for our mixtures?”

Leaf’n extended their wooden hand and displayed each five fingers. Esli tapped each as she listed the ingredients. “Water, thyme, oil, starch—or flour—and some form of gas. Like the oh two you were talking about, or the see oh two you mentioned a few days ago,” Esli said.

“

Oxygen

and

carbon dioxide.

Or, O₂ and CO₂. But correct. You go get those, and I’ll get our other ingredients.” Esli was slightly confused about Leaf’n having her sit down and then go and get the potion supplies, but she dismissed it. She bounced off the stool and went to one of the shelves, where a large, clay pot of dried thyme sat, ready to be used. Heaving the pot in her arms, Esli reached for the tall bottle of yellow oil beside it. She ran back to the table, put the two ingredients on the table, ran back to the shelf, and grabbed the coarse flour. Leaf’n ground it themselves, which meant that it wasn’t very soft.

She dropped the bag on the table and went to the water pump, which hadn’t been there a few weeks ago. A little bucket sat beneath it, and Esli filled it almost to the brim. Soon enough, all of the basic ingredients were gathered.

Esli sat back down and waited for Leaf’n to finish their search. Leaf’n was surprisingly fast for a tree. Rona had taught Esli all about cell functions, and the little things inside them. Esli didn’t really know how Rona knew what was inside a cell, but she didn’t question it. The energy-makers in an animal cell were the mitochondria, and for plant cells, it was the chloroplasts. And because Leaf’n was both a living thing, and a plant, that probably meant that they had

double

the energy. Well, that was how Esli saw it, anyway.

Moments later, Leaf’n deposited their bounty on the table. “Now. Tell me how we combined our ingredients, Naris.”

Esli stood on the wooden rail of the stool to get a better look at the pot on the table. “So you’ve got to add the water and everything else, and then you take your whisk and you loop it through the air.”

“And that is also how we make…”

“Eggs!” Esli answered, a grin on her face. She liked eggs for breakfast.

“Indeed. Now how about you get that ready while I monologue about our potion?”

“Alright.” Esli took the glass cup and dipped it into the bucket of water. She needed exactly one cup of water for each potion starter. One tablespoon of oil, another tablespoon of flour, and then a teaspoon more of thyme. When Esli would stir the mixture together, it would turn a pale green, even without any heat. She assumed it was magic, as that was what she was learning.

Leaf’n started their lecture. “Today, I am going to instruct you on how to properly make a healing potion. Now, take the antler velvet–”

“But last time we made one of regeneration! How are they different?” she asked.

Leaf’n smiled. “I’m glad you noticed. Well, with the potion of regeneration, it simply increases the amount of mitosis within the cells to regenerate new skin cells or other things a person may be lacking. However, because of the rapid regeneration, this can cause cancers that may be harmful if unidentified in time.

“With our healing potion, however, new cells are created, but only to a certain extent. By adding our extra pine sap, it halts the regeneration process once the healing is complete. Then by adding our spinach root, it alerts the body that there will be rapid cell growth, and tells the brain, ‘We’re doing something over here, so it might be weird for a moment.’ Because of that, there is less of an adverse reaction like the potion of regeneration. Does that sufficiently explain their differences?”

Esli nodded. “Yes, sir. And we’re using ground ‘spinch roots, right?”

Leaf’n smiled warmly. “Yes, Naris, ground

spinach

roots. If we had just let them sit in the pot, they would infuse, yes, but it’s much faster to add the powdered stuff. Now, tell me what ingredients we have.”

Esli turned to the table and its contents. A little glass jar of powdered spinach root stood with it’s heavily embellished label, and next to it was a larger jar of dried pieces of deer velvet that Leaf’n had had Esli go collect a few months ago. The deer had simply walked up to her, and Esli had reached up to yank off the soft velvet. She had accidentally pulled too hard, and the deer almost bolted, but he had stayed. Afterwards, Esli had given him a good pat on the head and the deer had gone on his happy way.

Leaf’n had chopped up the velvet into tiny pieces with their huge, shining knife and left them by the fire. Esli had drawn a little deer on the label with large, sprawling antlers and a happy face. She was quite happy with it.

Esli’s attention came back to the potion ingredients. “So there’s the

spinach

roots, and the velvet crumbles, and the cotton seeds—I know those because I put little clouds on the paper, see?—and after the cotton seeds are the little bottle of pine sap, and then the needles. Did I get it right?”

Leaf’n took their heavy hand and patted Esli lightly on the head. “Correct. Now that we have our base, we need to add our primary ingredients. Based on our little collection here, what do you think our primary ingredients will be?”

Esli stared hard at the gathering of bottles. Usually, ground powders would be added last, so that took out the spinach root. Seeds usually had to be split open and would be used early on, but Esli didn’t think they would be first. The velvet crumbles would be added with the cotton seeds, so they could infuse together. That left the two pine products. The needles wouldn’t be used for the drinking part of it, just like the seeds and velvet, so they would eventually taken out. So that left the sap to be added.

Esli tapped her chin. “I think we should put the sap in first. It would thicken up the potion, and, when it combines with the flour, it would thicken up even more. Then, I think we should make a tea with the needles, pour it in, and then add the velvet and seeds for the infusion thing, and then put in the spinach powder.” Esli’s tone changed from confident to hopeful. “Is that right?”

“

Al

most. You do it exactly how you said, but you make the needle tea last, and then pour about a cup of the potion–after being put through a sieve, of course—into two cups of the tea. And this is also the ratio for…”

“Rice!” Esli beamed, jumping up slightly in her chair.

Leaf’n snapped their wooden fingers, creating a dull

thunk.

“Exactly! One cup of rice and two cups of water. Or, one cup of solute and two cups of solution. But we’ll learn about that later. Now go on ahead and put the pot on the fire and start cooking.”

Esli hefted the heavy iron pot from the table and toddled over to the fireplace, where an iron rack stood, waiting for the pot to be placed and potion stirred. With a

tink

, Esli dropped the pot on the rack and reached for the long, wooden spoon hovering just above the mantle. It took a few jumps and a few glares in Leaf’n’s direction, but she reached it eventually. After watching the pot for what felt like too long, a soft bubble rose and Esli stirred the pot, starting at the edges. The mixture had only started to thicken and Leaf’n handed her the bottle of sap.

“Now?” Esli asked, concerned that the flour hadn’t had enough time to cook.

“Indeed. We ought not wait too long for the inevitable outcome. Even though most professional potion masters will add their oil and flour together, then water and thyme, I prefer it this way. It teaches patience.”

“But how does the potion get its air?” Esli wondered.

“The bubbles.” Leaf’n pointed to the boiling water, their finger lightly stirring the potion starter. It swelled a tad bit, but as Leaf’n drew back their appendage, the water poured back out and into the mixture. They nodded. “Yes, it’s almost ready. Please add our sap.”

Esli took the little bottle and slowly poured the sap into a little spoon that Leaf’n had procured. The sap slowly poured into the pot, and Esli scooped out the rest with her finger and let it drip into the boiling potion.

After that, Leaf’n started on the tea. As they did so, Esli stirred the pot and added the split seeds—that Leaf’n had chopped of course—and the velvet. Esli hung the pot on the hook above the fire and let the potion simmer. Then, once Leaf’n had finished with the tea, she added the spinach root. In the end, it didn’t make very much of a potion. Leaf’n poured it into a clay bottle labeled “HEALING SYRUP” and handed it to Esli. The bottle felt warm to the touch.

“Why do I need it?” Esli asked, tilting her head ever so slightly.

“Why, as a precaution, of course! It never hurts to have extra medicine at home, now does it?”

Esli nodded. “Alright. Is it time to leave now?”

“Not yet.”

Esli brightened up. “Are we making a different one?”

Leaf’n shook their head. “No, you need to take your quiz. What is the base of all potions?”

Esli sighed. “Water, oil, thickener, thyme, and air.”

“Good. What are the ingredients for a healing potion?”

“The base, pine tea, pine sap, spinach roots, deer velvet, cotton seeds and that’s it.” Esli counted the ingredients on her fingers.

“And what do most experts do for their base?”

Esli scrunched her nose in thought. “They put the thyme in first?”

“No, little one, they make a roux with the oil and thickener, which makes the potion smoother. Last question. Why do deer have velvet?”

“Oh!” Esli grinned. “Because they’re just growing their new antlers and they’re all fuzzy and they shed the fuzzy velvet during winter!”

Leaf’n grinned. “Very good. Now, you take your potion and you are free to go. Unless, as always, you wish to speak with me.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Rona hated boats.

They were cramped, dirty, and stuffed with other people that she never got along with.

The first time Rona had been on a boat overseas, she had been horribly sick almost every day, which she accounted the illness for the choppy waves and ill-tasting food. Later, she figured out it was morning sickness, but still. She hated it.

But then, for her first trip

off

of the Island, she was ill too, so she just had bad luck when it came to water.

This trip was no different. About an hour after setting sail, the nausea had overwhelmed her hard-earned resolve and she dashed to the edge of the ship’s railing. Rona hated vomit. It was half-digested food along with the stomach acids going out of a person’s mouth. It tasted horrible, it felt horrible, and it smelled horrible.

Later, some kind soul—which was difficult to find in Rona’s line of work—brought her a little stool. She was

immensely

grateful for whoever had given it to her.

As the worst of the nausea passed, Rona stared out into the lightening horizon. She pondered her mission. Esli knew what she was going to do; it was in her job description, which Rona had told the little girl not long after she arrived.

Now that Rona was there, no turning back, she felt like a traitor. A liar. Rona had told Esli time and time again that the killing—the

murder

—of innocent, sentient beings was horrible. Ruthlessly unforgivable. And yet, here Rona was, just on her way to go murder a few innocent, sentient beings.

What would Esli think? Rona hated to admit it, but ever since that little girl had donned that huge shirt and faked her reading, Rona loved her. Not as a replacement for her Jamie, no one could ever replace him, but as another child. One wholly different but still deserving of love and affection. Rona had never thought she would want children. She had met plenty of people who had decided that they didn’t want little ones at their feet, and they stuck to that promise. Edith had no family; she didn’t want to bring something into a world that Jared ruled so ruthlessly.

Rona understood good and well that the girl wouldn’t have lived if she had had that baby. There would have been complications. Edith had seen enough to know it well.

Rona knew that some things were up to other people, that it was their decision, but she knew that if she could get her son back, she’d pitch herself into fire herself.

Her mind wandered back to Esli. Had she had her lesson with Leaf’n yet? Was she eating her breakfast? Was Azalea going to keep her promise of taking care of Esli? Rona hated to leave her alone without her or Edith, but the consequences if she didn’t go were far too grave for her to stay.

Rona felt like a hypocrite as she gazed at the rising sun, the bright, yellow ball stinging her eyes. She had done her job tens of times before if not hundreds. But this time, it was different.

It wasn’t just some foolish human general stirring trouble in Jared’s investments, or a silly Nithe prince with visions of grandeur, no, this was more important. Jared needed the royal family of Ionmir

eliminated.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Leaf’n could feel the apprehension rolling of their apprentice in waves. They wanted to be somebody Naris could trust, somebody she could open up to, but Naris had to be willing.

“Is there something on your mind, Naris?”

Naris seemed to shrink in her little blue tunic, trying to hide from the question. “Are you sure?” she almost whispered, just loud enough to be heard.

Leaf’n sat down on the floor and felt their wooden legs bend and creak and they adjusted their position. “You can tell me anything you want me to know, and don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to me to know. I simply want to help.”

Naris sat down on the floor as well, fidgeting with her sleeves. “Well, Rona left today, to go do her job.”

Leaf’n nodded. “I see.”

The trees whispered in their ear,

She sails to Tanvi.

To ill fortune.

Leaf’n felt like a few leaves had wilted in their tree. “And you know what she will do?”

Naris nodded. “She told me, but she didn’t tell me

who.

”

Leaf’n nodded. They weren’t going to tell the little girl who her guardian was going to kill, even if they suspected. They didn’t know if the mention of her family would bring back unhappy memories or not, and they did not want to find out.

Leaf’n’s thoughts disappeared as Naris muttered, “I’m worried about my work.”

“Your work?” they thought, raising a stiff brow.

“My math work. But I don’t really want to do it here,” Naris said, again, barely audible.

“Well, why not? I can help you if you want it,” Leaf’n said. The girl was a mystery.

She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. It had gotten longer since she had first come, from her collarbone and now down to her elbows. She would probably have to cut it if Jared saw.

“It’s just… you know how certain places just feel

good?”

Naris said, gesturing with her hands.

They nodded. “Yes.” Their mother’s garden felt happy, when Leaf’n and their adopted siblings would run around and cause havoc, pulling leaves off of plants and through tufts of grass at each other.

“Well, this place feels happy. And I don’t want to dread coming here all because of the math work that I can’t seem to figure out. I like being happy here,” Naris sighed.

“Have you asked anyone else for help? I’m sure that they’d be delighted.”

Naris shook her head. “If I asked anybody else—besides you or Ee-ara, I mean—they’d probably yell at me.”

Leaf’n didn’t know what to do. They didn’t know what to say. If Naris didn’t want to learn in his classroom and didn’t want to ask anybody else, how would the girl learn?

“Naris, I’ll give you what I think. Even if the majority of the people surrounding you dislike you, there has to be at least one who can help. So who is the person at the Fortress that dislikes you the least?” Leaf’n asked.

“Ee-ara. Or maybe Azalea.” She paused. “But I don’t know if–”

Leaf’n held up a hand and the girl quieted. “Esli, you’ll never know if you don’t try. Should worse come to worst, I’m sure Rona will help you when she comes back.”

“Alright.” The girl still seemed tense.

“Is there anything else on your mind?” Leaf’n wondered.

Naris seemed to think and consider for a moment before finally speaking. “Why am I so bad at math? The trees told me that everybody was good at something and not so good at others, but I didn’t get it. I feel like I want a more logical explanation.”

“Well, Naris, as the trees said, everybody has their own special skills, of these, all of them are different. However, there are more variables in this equation than one might expect. Different experiences can shape the way how a person views certain things. People are all different, including their brains. Brain chemistry affects the way people can learn new things. Head trauma can also cause your brain to, in simple terms, ‘be weird.’”

Naris nodded. “So something could have happened that made me not good at math?”

Leaf’n considered the statement. “Well, not exactly. Again, there are other variables. A person’s brain could just be like that.”

Naris nodded. “Alright then.” She stood. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

Leaf’n stood as well, their roots stretching to stand. “Remember, Naris, be sure not to use too much of the potion at one time. You’ll get sick. Now, take care, and be sure not to trip on any roots outside.” They gently patted Naris on the shoulder and the young girl left, her potion syrups clutched in her small hands.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Esli had an idea.

She didn’t really know if it was a good one, though. Ever since that “accident” where Esli had taken a tumble down the stairs, it seemed like her already horrible skills at arithmetic had decreased, which Esli didn’t think was possible. And it felt like the things she was supposed to do were simple! Adding two or more numbers wasn’t that hard! But still.

After Leaf’n had told her that her aversion towards numbers

could

have been caused by that concussion, as Rona had called it, Esli knew that she might have a solution. And now that she had a healing potion at her disposal, she could use it and see if it would fix her head.

As Esli toddled back towards the wall, the trees whispered to her.

That is foolish!

Ignorant!

That is a bad idea!

That is for emergencies only!

“What are you talking about?” Esli asked, feigning her ignorance. Rona had said that she was very good at “masking her expressions”, which Esli had realized was a good thing to fool Jared into thinking that she

hadn’t

knocked over a stand of armor.

We hear your thoughts!

Foolish!

Foolish!

Wrong!

“

What

are you talking about? When I get home, I’m going to bed. I don’t see anything foolish about sleep, do you?” Esli asked the trees, who seemed to sway in agitation.

You are exempting the truth.

“But I’m not! Now, do you have anything other than accusations to throw my way?”

The trees swayed again, their leaves rustling and a few falling to the ground.

We have new verses.

“Oh, do you?” Esli asked, her brow raised. It wasn’t often that the trees sang to her anymore. They seemed to prefer talking than singing.

Young and old,

Right from wrong, was never told.

Mighty and vain, traveling like the flowing wind

Foolish, brave,

The worst of things, all together.

Though new to the earth, still the curse upon the land.

Lord of the Castle,

Lord of the Island,

Lord of the Evil,

Never one to fulfill his debts,

Nfalling to the ground.

ever to show his kindness

King of the Horrors,

King of Cruelty,

King of Enemy!

Of the Queen’s descent,

Shame to his name, to his people.

Stole his teachings like a thief in the night,

He destroys our power,

Confines us to this wretched cage,

But soon, one day soon, we are to be saved.

Lord of the Castle,

Lord of the Island,

Lord of the Evil,

Always lying to his people,

Always using his curses.

King of Filth,

King of Anger,

King of wretchedness!

One day, soon, we will be saved!

“What do you mean? ‘We will be saved’?” Esli wondered. She knew that the wall stopped the trees’ magic from going any further, but who was the king of wretchedness, the king of filth?

Later.

We are tired.

Later.

The trees’ voices fell silent as Esli continued on her way down the path, following the twinkling lights once again. Soon enough, the dark wall came back into view. One last tree who still seemed to be awake helped her up the wall, keeping her steady and holding her bottle as she grabbed onto the vines.

Esli held the bottle tightly as she scrambled down the wall on the other side, hoping that Ee-ara was still there. And, lo and behold, sitting on her usual bench, was Ee-ara, a thick roll of yarn by her side and twin needles in her hands, clacking away and creating a wide rectangle.

As Esli quietly shimmied down the wall, the woman said, “What is your bounty for today?”

Esli dropped to the ground with a huff, almost falling to the ground. “A healing potion. I think it should come in handy one day.”

Ee-ara nodded and looked up from her yarn work, her hands still knotting and needles still pulling. “And you’ll be responsible?”

Esli nodded. Why did everybody think that she was going to use the potion for something weird? “I’ll be even more responsible than Leaf’n, don’t you worry.”

Ee-ara

hmm

ed and stood, finally putting away her little rectangle and standing stiffly. She crackled her back as she stood and finally spoke again. “Come now, let’s head to your house. It’s gotten dark.”

Ee-ara had never helped Esli home before. Usually, Rona was there when Esli got back, so they would go together. Esli suspected that Ee-ara was just going with her in Rona’s stead.

As they walked through the many yards around the Fortress, Ee-ara was silent. Esli felt a little bit too worn out by her talk with Leaf’n to speak, so she stayed silent as well. As they walked inside through the back door, the guards didn’t seem to notice them, staring into their little oblivions and ignoring them completely.

“Keep quiet, little one,” Ee-ara whispered, holding her finger to her lips.

Esli nodded.

Soon enough, the dark door of Rona’s apartment came into view. Ee-ara patted Esli on the arm and wished her goodnight. When Esli opened the door, she immediately

closed it. Somebody was inside! Esli knew for certain that Ee-ara had already turned the corner, and she knew that this was her house, so what was a person doing there?

Esli peered inside again, and saw that the person was standing in the kitchen, and seemed to be swaying to some unheard sound. Esli took a deep breath, mustering the courage to step inside. She pulled the tiny throwing knife from her pocket and stepped inside. She closed the door, but, as always, it made its automatic

screee scree screeeeeeeak.

The person turned around, and Esli realized that it was not actually some intruder, but Azalea, standing in the kitchen making dinner. She didn’t seem fazed by Esli's outstretched blade, and instead took the pan in her hand and mixed it, still facing Esli. “Oh, you’re back! Rona had told me that you spent some time with Ee-ara and would come home late. But I’m making dinner, it’s noodles, you’ll like it. Go get cleaned up and we can eat soon.”

Esli released a relieved sigh and breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of garlic and something unidentified. Esli made her way to the bathroom and delicately put the potion in the closet, not wanting to make a noise for some unknown reason, even to her. Esli stood on her tiptoes and turned on the spigot, a tiny stream of water going through the metal pipe. She washed her hands and face and went back to the living room, where the fire roaring and warm.

As she dried her hands on her trousers, Esli went back to the little kitchen where Azalea just seemed to be finishing up the dinner of pale noodles and a dark sauce with little green circles on top. Esli had no idea what the little green circles were. She just wanted her noodles.

Azalea looked down at the little girl, who was trying to take a noodle from the bowl. Esli stared up at Azalea as she watched her slurp up a noodle, both of them staring at each other. As Esli stared deeper into Azalea’s eyes, she felt her mouth burn with the spicy sauce. Azalea grinned. “And that’s what happens when we steal noodles, Esli.” The nurse took a cup of water from the counter and handed it to Esli, who drank it happily.

“That’s the chili oil. That was my bowl, so I wanted it extra spicy. Yours is much less so,” Azalea said, and Esli nodded.

“Sorry for taking your noodle,” Esli said, still staring up at the woman. For a brief moment, the two simply stared at each other before Esli burst into a fit of giggles and Azalea followed.

After their giggles had stopped, Azalea smiled and handed Esli a bowl of her noodles. Esli was just about to grab a saucy noodle with her fingers before Azalea tapped her wrist with a pair of chopsticks. “We use utensils in this household, little one.”

“But you’re not part of this household,” Esli retorted, trying to figure out how to use them. Azalea showed her how, placing the utensils in her hand and eating her noodles calmly, with no hesitation at the spiciness that Esli had had such an adverse reaction to.

Instead of eating at the dinner table as Rona preferred, they sat on the small sofa, chatting as they ate. Esli still found her noodles slightly spicy, but tasty nonetheless. She wondered why Rona never made anything like this. Rona had only made noodles once, and it was a noodle soup.

Esli hesitantly ate her dinner while Azalea regaled her with her day in the hospital. One of the gardeners had cut his fingers almost clean off, and a guard had a dislocated shoulder from breaking up a fight between a few cadets.

Every once in a while Esli saw the cadets—soldiers and guards in training—around the fortress, but they usually kept to the other side of the island unless they were visiting for something, maybe as a formal training class or for a graduation. Esli had been to a graduation about two months ago, where each new soldier had to pledge his allegiance to Jared with a cut on their forearm. If Jared deemed them worthy, he would heal them, and if not, he would let them bleed. Jared never healed the wounds enough to take away the scarring. Each soldier had a deep scar on his arm as a testament to his loyalty. If he especially hated them, he’d have them cut their other wrist. Afterward, all of the accepted men would walk through the middle of the room, straight through the puddle of blood, and track their footsteps along the Island, where they would take a hike along the whole enchanted wall. Their hike symbolized that they would spill their blood or their fellows away from home should they be called.

Three soldiers that time had died because of Jared. Rona had tried to tell Esli to look away from the whole thing, but she was curious. By the end, the floor was a bloody mess and the bodies of the fallen sat discarded, still leaking from their arms. The rest of the new soldiers—61 of them, after Jared’s decision—marched through the lake of their own blood and tracked it through the wide door, through the yards, and finally to the wall, where Ee-ara still sat. The old woman had told Esli that they had marched right past her, the tips of their dark boots shining in the noonday light.

Azalea grinned when she told Esli about the shout the man had made. None of the staff in the Fortress had any fondness for the soldiers and guards that prowled the halls. They were rude and abrasive and had no qualms with yelling at anybody. Rona and Esli’s apartment was a good ways away from the soldier’s and guard’s quarters, which Esli was grateful for. However, that never stopped anybody from coming inside unannounced. Esli had no idea why people would just walk through the door, with no invitation, but she always hid under her bed when they did. It was demeaning, but they never found her. In fact, Esli was always so swift, that she never even got to see who it was. But Rona had
told her enough times that she would knock twice on the door before coming in, and they wouldn’t even knock. But still, Esli didn’t want to test her luck by staying around to find out.

Azalea ate another noodle. “So what did you do today?”

Esli shrugged, a saucy string halfway out of her mouth. “I sthpoke with Ee-ara an’ tried to do my math, but I’m not the besth.”

“I can help, if you want,” Azalea said, placing her bowl in her lap.

Esli gaped. “You will?”

Azalea nodded. “I’m going to be here in the morning to get you up and help with breakfast, so I’ll be there.”

For the rest of the time that Azalea was there, she cleaned up dinner and put a few more logs in the fire. Then, she placed a kiss to her pal and patted Esli’s head, wishing her a good night.

Esli couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saytha could not wait a moment more. The last time he had seen his best friend, it had been to help search for his youngest sister, little Esli, who had vanished. The whole trip had been dismal and bleak, and Adirous had seemed tired and mournful, which was to be expected as his father had just died a few months before and his little sister was missing.

Now, Saytha hoped that it would be better. He didn’t want to dismiss the search for the missing Dathus, but the chances of her still being alive dwindled every day. Nonetheless, even if Saytha would have to go on another trip, he would for the sake of his friendship.

Daytha draped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, grinning as they made their way from the library to the secret garden. The garden was where the brothers spent lots of their time, planting flowers and picking herbs and fruit. Their mother would take them there before she died, but now it just seemed right to keep taking care of it.

“Alright, brother,” Daytha said, “so what’s our plan? How are we going to make this trip miserable for our father?”

Saytha cast a questioning glance towards his brother. “Since when has our objective

ever

been to bring Dama chaos?”

Daytha shrugged. “Dunno. Just seems like that’s what usually do.”

Daytha sighed. “Alright, you little gremlin, do you swear that Dama will not be involved in our antics this time?”

“Cut my throat and eat my liver. And anyway, we do not partake in

antics.

We enjoy… playful jaunts and cheery tricks,” Saytha corrected, patting his brother on the back and removing his arm from his shoulders.

Daytha looked at the Nithe beside him. “You are full of it,” he grinned.

“Of enthusiasm, you mean.”

“Yeah, that and–”

“Boys!” a voice shouted.

The twins turned around, their eyes wide at the prospect of being caught discussing their antics, no matter the name.

Walking briskly towards them was their Uncle Sam, looking bright. His greying hair was tangled with little twigs and leaves and seemed delighted for some inexplicable reason. “Are you both ready to go?”

Saytha nodded. He was eager to get going. “Indeed, we are simply discussing our activities while traveling.”

Uncle Sam raised a brow. “Are you now?”

Saytha jabbed his brother in the ribs and Daytha grinned, a sense of mischief and jokes gone from his expression. “Yes, Uncle. All of our things are ready to go. But what about Dama? Is he well?”

Uncle Sam waved the question off, and Saytha almost grinned, their thoughts on mischief now being forgotten. “Oh, Aytha’s fine, he just hasn’t been out of his office in a while. Now that you mention it, he might not know that today’s the day we’re leaving.” Uncle Sam tapped his chin in thought, still unaware of his disheveled state.

“Um, Uncle Sam?” Saytha asked.

Sam looked up and out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

“You’ve got a little something up there,” Saytha said, patting his own head.

Sam smacked his dark hair and was suddenly surprised at the appearance of the twigs and leaves. “Oh! Thanks for that! It’d be weird if I went to see Aytha with dirt in my hair.” Sam pulled a few twigs from his hair and turned back to his nephews. “Better?”

Saytha and Daytha nodded in unison, ignoring the three more leaves and two more twigs sprouting from their uncle’s crown. Sam nodded and grinned, heading back to where he was heading. Once he was out of sight, the two turned to each other and their serene façade faded. Saytha burst into laughter, leaning on his brother for support. Not a moment later, Daytha followed. A few servants passed, looking concerned, but Saytha paid them no mind. If the twin Dathas were laughing with no provocation, it didn’t bode well for any person within the palace.

Later, when they had finally found their way to the garden, they gathered a few apples from the tree and discussed their plans for pranks.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next day started pleasant. When Esli awoke, Azalea was there in the kitchen, slicing a thick loaf of bread into slices. She was dressed in her usual nurse’s uniform, grey-blue with a pinned apron. For breakfast, the two ate warm toast and an apple that Esli insisted tasted better with cheese. Azalea disagreed, but they bickered further until they had finished their meal.Then, right after breakfast, Azalea grinned in an almost devilish way. “Guess what time it is?”Esli’s heart sank. “Math?”Azalea’s grin deepened. “Today is a day for learning! We must match with an equal enthusiasm on the playing field.”Azalea cleaned off the table and Esli went to the bathroom, where she considered using the healing potion in the cabinet. The measurement was specific—one cup of syrup with two cups of water—so Esli didn’t really want to make it in the bathroom. But she could wait, couldn’t she? Of course, she could! Esli was waiting for plenty of things, so what was one more?After washing her hands, Esli closed the door behind her and almost made a face. Almost. Rona had told her not to make faces, even though she really wanted to. One time, some old noble lady—probably Lady Goswing, if Esli was being honest with herself—had made some strange remark about Rona’s eyes, and Esli had scowled and when she had thought that Goswing had looked away, Esli had falsely imitated the Lady’s weird accent and large hair. Goswing had turned around, smacked Esli on the back with her cane—which was hard, mind you—and toddled away with her wretched dog still in hand. Esli hated that dog.But after that, Esli made sure not to make mean faces or imitate people in a rude manner. However, it was difficult when the lord of the Fortress stood at the dinner table, his looping horns scraping at the ceiling. Azalea seemed hunched in her seat, her hands fidgety in her lap. Jared loomed over the table, and as he scowled, Esli suddenly wished that Rona had spent more time teaching her about people traps. Esli awkwardly stepped forward, and once she had reached the other side of the table, she bowed deeply and said, barely audible to her own ears, “How fare you, Your Majesty?”Jared’s scowl seemed to deepen. “What was that?” he said loudly, and Esli flinched.“Nothing,” Esli mumbled, still looking down at her toes.Jared hmmed. “Nurse, I’ll be taking the girl for the day. Return to your duties.”Azalea seemed to pause for a moment before mustering her courage and saying, “But, Your Majesty, I’m going to be–”“Did you not hear me clearly? Do I need to speak again?” Jared inquired.“No, Your Majesty,” Azalea answered.Esli looked up at the hulking Nithe—one of her brethren, apparently—and nodded lightly. “I will go.”Jared smirked. “Well, it seems the little one has a strong voice after all! Go on, girl, it’s time for your first lesson.”Azalea seemed resigned as Esli followed Jared out the door. Esli gave her a small goodbye and followed the King through the door. As Jared opened the door to his laboratory, Esli felt a painful stab in her head, like the beginnings of a headache. A bad one, too.In the middle of the room sat two tables, each adorned with a heavy cauldron and mixing utensils. Esli realized that it was now Jared’s turn to teach Esli his trade. Esli had learned much from Leaf’n already, but Jared didn’t know that now did he? So Esli needed to pretend not to know anything. She was pretty good at pretending. Well, she thought she was.Jared pointed to the farthest table. “Go stand there. We’ll start momentarily.”Esli made her way to the table and sighed. She was directly eye-level with the pot. Jared came back a moment later and turned his gaze just over Esli’s head, then, for a moment, seemed confused as to why she wasn’t there. Then, he looked down and realized that his charge was, in fact, as tall as a second grader. Which she was.Jared mumbled a few curse words that Esli was sure to remember and left the large room again. Esli grinned at the minor inconvenience she had caused him. For once, her height brought her joy. Rona had told her that she would get taller soon, but she didn’t really believe that.Jared came back a few minutes later with a small stool in hand and dropped it on the floor for Esli to stand on. Without any words exchanged, Esli stepped up on the stool and stared at Jared, as if waiting for instruction. Jared sighed and turned to face his own cauldron. He began, “So making a potion is like making soup. You ever made soup before?”Esli shook her head. “No, sir.”Jared sighed. “Fine. You put stuff in hot water until something happens. Got it?”Esli nodded.Jared took the small bottle of antler velvet, which Esli recognized easily, and held it in front of Esli. “What’s this?”“Tiny rocks?” she guessed.“No, this is antler velvet. Cut up and dried. This is the base for most beneficial potions.” Jared set the bottle down and picked up another with a dark powder. “This is turkey spur. Many land birds have spikes on where we would see their ankles to defend against other animals. It looks similar to a large claw. This the turkey’s spurs that have been ground into a powder–”“Was it difficult?” Esli asked, glancing at the bottle still in Jared’s hand.“What?” he hissed, eyes narrowed in sudden aggravation.“Was it hard to grind up the turkey spur?” Esli repeated.Jared waved a dismissive hand and shrugged. “I used magic, it was easy. And don’t interrupt me again.”Esli nodded.Jared looked into his own cauldron and poured a small amount of the ground spurs into the water already in the metal bowl. Esli waited for instruction, but Jared simply looked at her with impatience. “Well, go on! You do what I do!”Esli quickly uncorked the bottle of dark powder and poured it into the water. Jared took another bottle—all of the bottles were unlabeled, which was a hazard in the making, Esli knew—and Esli did the same.Jared began. “Today, we’re going to be making a potion that causes deafness. The ingredients are the potion base, which is just water, thyme, oil, and flour. After the base is made, add the spurs. Whole, dried spurs can be used, but it takes longer for them to take effect. Then fox teeth, moth wings, and pumpkin seeds. The potion then needs to boil for over ten minutes to absorb all of the ingredients' magical properties. Then, the fresh, specifically fresh, azalea leaves are going to be added. This can be used for tricking any potential targets into silence or keeping patrols from hearing any loud noises. Now, make the potion. I’ll be back in a while, and if the potion isn’t ready there will be consequences.”With that last word, Jared left the room in a huff, already tired of Esli. The girl looked up at her potion base, now mixed with the ground spurs. Jared hadn’t even given her any measurements, so what was she supposed to do? There wasn’t even a teaspoon on the table! How was she supposed to make the potion without any past knowledge or even a simple instruction?Esli took a deep breath and looked at the small dishes of ingredients on her table. A small saucer of pale pumpkin seeds sat to her left, as well as a saucer scattered with a few sharp teeth. Unfortunately, each one of the fox’s teeth—Esli assumed they were that of a fox, anyway—was splattered in dried blood, as if they had just been ripped out of the source. Then, to the right was a cup of water, wilting, purple petals, and papery-looking wings. Esli dropped the fox teeth into the cup of water to wash them off, not knowing whether or not the blood would change the potion. Once the teeth had been cleaned, Esli was ready to start her first test. When Jared came back, an hour had passed and Esli was absentmindedly stirring the potion, sitting on the table. Jared had never specified whether or not the potion needed heat, but Esli assumed not because there wasn’t even a fireplace in the room.When Jared’s heavy footfalls sounded through the door, Esli leaped down from the table and looked down at her potion, which looked strange and smelled odd as well.Jared loomed over the table and peered at the liquid’s surface, scowling as he always seemed to do. He dipped a finger in the potion and brought it to his lips as if hewere tasting a sauce for the next course of dinner. He scowled. “This isn’t even warm! What have you even been doing this whole time?” he said, his voice rising to a shout.“I- I made the potion, just as you said to,” Esli explained, her voice hardly a whisper.“If you had done it right, I wouldn’t even know what you’re saying! I’ve had common folk from the city make better potions than this!” Jared snorted. “And Rona said you were bright.”Esli stood on her stool, her face burning with shame, and took Jared’s jeers without comment.Once he had finished, Jared simply took the pot and splashed it on the stone floor, the dark droplets splashing on the floor and falling on Esli’s boots.“Do it again! Honestly, it’s simple! It’s just an equal amount of everything and let it boil. Are you so stupid that you can’t even manage a basic potion?” Jared wondered.Esli shrugged. “There’s no fire anywhere.”Jared leaned down, his dark eyes boring into Esli’s like horrid, vile pits of dark. “Then make one.”With that, he strode out of the room, and Esli was delighted when he slammed one of his horns into the door frame. Esli had to restrain herself from giggling. After Jared’s rage-induced actions, Esli realized that she did not have any fire. Leaf’n had taught her how to catch fire, but not yet to make it. But the fire was only air and fuel, right? And Leaf’n had told her many times that the body could be used as fuel. Leaf’n had assured her that they hadn’t meant as in burning the hand, like tinder, but using the body’s store of energy. While the act could be used in emergencies, Esli decided that Jared’s anger could count as an emergency.When Esli had asked to learn how to draw fire from inside, Leaf’n had shaken his head, making the leaves on his head wilt and tumble to the ground in his worry. “Do not ever,” he had said, most adamant, “use your own energy to make something as trivial as fire.” Esli, of course, wanted to learn about it even more after that. While Leaf’n had taught her to make a magical fire with wood and other fuels, she still wanted to learn how to make one by herself and sustain it.When Esli usually used her magic, whether it be to help her plants grow or to levitate a pen, her chest felt strained, as if she were using her muscles in some strenuous activity. Esli remembered when she had been in Leaf’n’s tree one day, and she had been making the table, three separate bottles, a few logs, and the potion pot hover just a few inches above the ground. Her chest had ached, feeling worse than any kind of heartburn Rona had ever spoken of, and worse than any other exercise. She had held everything for only about a minute, but only a moment later she had fallen to the ground in a heap, head dizzy and disoriented. For the next few days, her chest had hurt for almost a week later, as if she had been stretched as far as she would go.Esli didn’t know what would happen if she didn’t make her potion if she didn’t follow Jared’s words to the exact letter. Esli took a deep breath and focused, hard, on the concept of fire. Super-heated gas, visible in reds, yellows, whites, and blues, destructive, beneficial. A light in the dark, warmth in the cold, it releases dark smoke, pale steam, and crackling pops that are more distinct than the full moon in the sky. Esli felt a deep warmth spread through her hand, making her palm sweat. She opened her eyes a smidge, just to peek, and saw a glowing flame in her palm. Looking around the room, in a pile of dust blank papers. Esli ran over to the dry, folded pages and grabbed them with her free hand. After dropping them on the stone floor by the table, she almost fell to the ground from the heavy feeling on her core, as if she were a magnet being drawn to the center of the earth. Behind the pillar with paper, a stack of twigs and other wooden objects sat, waiting to be used. After moving the paper back to the pillar, Esli lit the corner of one page with her dwindling flame. Once the fire had caught and was steady, she reached up towards Jared’s table, where his cauldron sat, untouched. Esli scooted the stool to table and picked up the heavy thing. She didn’t really know how to hang the cauldron on top of the fire, so she settled for sitting it in the middle, inside a small well. She hoped the smoke wouldn’t affect it.She’d see if it worked or not.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The trip to Tanvi was

horrible.

The oncoming cold seemed to seep into every seam, crevice, pore, and thread of everything. Even wrapped in a cloak

and

blanket, the wind still bit into his skin. It was just starting to grow cold, and Daytha detested the season. His brother seemed absolutely chipper, even with the scatter of ice coating the hem of his cloak and his boots had a hole in the toe.

Daytha could never understand why Saytha always seemed to be so

happy

all the time. Whenever he stared at the sun, he’d say that the light felt warm and soft, but never that the ray burned his eyes. Daytha could never fathom the cool wind or stinging snow like his brother.

And, as if he had been summoned, Saytha trotted up on his dark mare with a grin on his face, as if all was right in the world. “How are you faring in this

lovely

weather?” he asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“Dismal,” Daytha grumbled, checking ties around around his horns to secure his hood. “Only you could enjoy this weather.”

“Why, yes indeed! It’s better than any summer day. Now tell me, in what air did Adirous speak in his correspondence?” Saytha wondered, throwing his brother an extra scarf.

“Why would you want to know? In what tone did Estrada answer your letters?” Daytha wondered.

Saytha’s face turned an even deeper indigo, and Daytha smirked against the frigid breeze. “Well? Are you going to answer or just sit there like your feelings?”

Saytha bundled up another scarf—Daytha had no idea where he kept getting them from—and threw it at his brother, all malice. “Shut up,” he muttered, barely audible.

“Well,” Daytha said, wrapping both scarves around his neck, “Adirous was his usual, long-winded self in his letters, you know, run-on sentences, the worst grammar imaginable with the best script. He mentioned Esli only once this time, and how much he missed her, and that he was losing hope. Now that I’ve told you, you have to tell me about Estrada and her correspondence.” Daytha decided not to tell his brother that Estrada had a suitor; a librarian who wore glasses and seemed content in only his books, as Adirous had said.

Saytha looked less than pleased. “She’s been helping Rohad rule the country in their mother’s stead. She says that Kayleth’s causing trouble, as usual, and that Adirous isn’t doing much besides looking through the woods. Plyis hasn’t really done anything interesting, she says, which is strange. He’s always up to something.”

Daytha tilted his head in confusion, a habit he’d had for a while. “Well, that’s concerning.”

“Oh, yes. She said that she’s concerned about him as well, but she always is. She and Kayleth were arguing about something a little while ago, but I think they made up.”

“Good. Now tell me, what do we have planned when we get there?”

That night, Daytha and Saytha had stolen their uncle’s boots and hidden them in his saddle bags, so he had to walk through the fresh snow to get them. Their father had only watched them over the rim of his glasses, reading some leather-bound tome he had brought with him.

Three days later, when Daytha felt like his feet would freeze off, they finally found themselves in one of the outer hamlets of Tanvi. A water fountain sprang from a statue of an embellished Ebrar, her draping stone robes painted a bright green and skin a warm brown with artfully sculpted hair. Her right hand was extended in from of her, cool, clear water pouring from her wrist and falling into a stone basin beneath her. Daytha thought that it made her look like blood was coming from her wrists, but he didn’t really know where else the stream would come from, so he ignored his intrusive thoughts.

The citizens had just begun to awaken and paid them no mind. To them royalty were as important as a foreign language; useful at times, yes, but not often necessary. Soon, the hamlet was left behind, and other villages and lone cottages came into view. However, as they passed through the forest, an area with no trail, Dama led them to a

solitary cottage, vines growing up the windows and door frame, and little sprigs of trees growing on the roof.

Uncle Sam grumbled, “Aytha, where are we? I know you know the way to Eliza’s, so why have we made a stop at this dilapidated–”

From the door came an ancient-looking Nithe, her horns draped with dark, blood-red ribbons and three wrought iron charms, each studded with a singular gem in varying colors. “Now tell me, Aytha, why do you decide to come to my house this early in the morning, retinue in tow, and think that that’s a good idea?”

Dama leaped off his horse, and, a grin on his face, reached towards the old Nithe. She enveloped him in an embrace and gestured to Uncle Sam as well, who sighed and got off as well.  Daytha looked to his brother in confusion, who shrugged.

The Nithe released the two brothers and turned to the younger brothers. “It seems that your boys have done some growing, hmm, Aytha?”

Dama nodded. “They’re taller than me.”

The old Nithe smacked his shoulder. “Now, that’s no feat. All of you, come in! Tie up those horses and come inside. Ionmir steeds have a habit of wandering.”

Finally, Daytha and his brother fell to the ground and Dama helped them tie their steeds to the posts by the window. Dama and Uncle Sam fixed the horses’ nosebags to their heads and the group headed inside.

Inside the cottage, it was blessedly warm. A fire was lit in a large, stone fireplace in the back of the front room, a threadbare and dark red with brown designs. The white tassels on the ends had faded to a pale tan, and Daytha suspected that the thing had once been beautiful. Lumpy pillows were scattered across the smooth, wooden floor, in colors ranging from deep greens to pale purples.

Three rocking chairs surrounded the fireplace, with an iron tea kettle hovering over the fire on a hook. On the other end of the room, a table was laden with aromatic herbs and a heavy chopping knife. A porcelain teapot, probably the newest thing in the house, sat beside the knife. Shelves stood halfway to the wall, where a potted plant sat, the pale rays of the early morning sun streaming through.

“Tell. us, Nama, how have things been since our last visit?” Dama asked, settling down in the rocking chair closest to the fire. The old Nithe, Nama, hurried about, pouring the hot water from the kettle to the teapot. She found five teacups on the shelves, each completely different. She poured them all tea and handed Uncle Sam his first. She pinched his cheek, saying, “You think my home is dilapidated, hmm?”

Uncle Sam turned a deep turquoise. “Well, I–”

She papped him on the face lightly, “Oh, I was just teasing. Go sit down. And where did your beard go?”

“You had a beard?” Saytha grinned, blurting out his statement.

Nama nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “Oh, yes he did! Not a long one though, I had him trim it before he left. You know, your Uncle stayed here for a long while, for his schooling of course, and he visited me often. Well, that was a long time ago, and I lived elsewhere.”

Saytha grinned. “Oh, I can see it now! Scrawny teenage Uncle Sam pulling weeds from a garden with a goatee.”

Dama grinned behind his cup of tea and Uncle Sam looked affronted. “Hey! That was a long time ago. And you wouldn’t want me to bring up that time when you only wore green, do you?”

Nama laughed, small but warm. “Oh, stop bickering, boys, and drink your tea. I know you’re cold.” Nama handed Daytha his cup, which had a little chip by the handle. “Tell me, Daytha, do you know where we are?”

Daytha sipped his scalding drink. “No, ma’am.”

Nama turned to Dama. “Oh, so polite!” to which Dama nodded happily. “We are near the River Green, in the center of Tanvi. I’m quite a ways from the palace, but still, close enough to make visits.”

Uncle Sam snorted. “Nama, you’re never far away enough to not make visits. For some reason, you’re always nearby.”

Nama tapped her temple and took her seat in one of the rocking chairs. “Magic,” she grinned, sipping her drink.

“Nearby Eliza, maybe,” Dama grumbled, staring into his cup like it held the secrets of the universe.

“Well, it was never

my

fault that you never visited. You know that I stay put,” Nama said, her nose pointed up.

“Yeah, Aytha, why haven’t we visited recently?” Uncle Sam asked condescendingly. Daytha grinned. Any conversation with Uncle Sam involved was sure to be interesting.

“Because the last time I checked, we came for her son’s funeral, negotiations with human villages that felt they were undermined, and you were always tired after every trip. And you never asked.” Dama took another sip of his tea and pointedly looked to his cup.

Nama turned aghast. “You never wanted to visit?” Daytha quite liked it when other people teased his elders. In Ionmir, only he and his brother were teased, as if they were still knee-high.

Uncle Sam turned indigo. “Well– you see, we never really had the opportunity–”

Nama tapped Uncle Sam lightly on the knee, her smile lines active. “Oh, I’m just teasing.” Nama turned to Daytha and Saytha, “Tell me boys, what kind of nonsense has your uncle gotten into lately?”

Saytha smirked. “Oh, not too long ago he fell off the roof–”

“--and ate some bread dough–” Daytha continued.

“–and fell out of a tree–”

“–and then he got trapped in the pig pens after trying to get out a ball,” Daytha finished.

“After you kicked it in there!” Uncle Sam protested.

“I kid you not, we told you

not

to go get it,” Saytha said, crossing his arms. He looked strange because he still had his teacup clutched in his fingers, hanging over his elbow.

Nama seemed to be enjoying the chaos as she sipped her tea. Dama simply sat in his chair, rocking back and forth, looking around the room.

As Saytha and Uncle Sam bickered over the circumstances of the missed ball and unfortunate instance involving the pig pen, Daytha watched as Nama soaked in each word, as if it were the life-saving elixir that had just been handed to her by the most trustworthy doctor.

Then, once Saytha had stood up from his seat on the floor pillows, Nama’s grin subsided. “Oh, there’s no need to argue! What do I say, Sam?”

“‘Arguments are like the rocks in the river; softened by time and completely useless,’”  Uncle Sam muttered, slouching down his rocking chair, and, with the excess momentum, knocked the chair over and fell in a heap on the floor.

Saytha, still standing, burst into laughter, pointing at his uncle who was covered in warm tea with a bruise to the back of his head and his pride. Uncle Sam scrambled up from his position on the floor and yanked his brother’s teacup out of his hand, much to Aytha’s displeasure. Uncle Sam splashed the cup at his nephew who gasped at his suddenly wet clothes. “Oh, why you–”

“That’s what you get for laughing!” Uncle Sam cackled.

Saytha grinned, ready to be the cause of more madness. Nama still watched with glee written over her face like a shining, stained window. “Oh, you want to take this outside?” Saytha asked, haughty in his tone.

“Oh, you know I do!” Uncle Sam and Saytha tumbled out of the little vine-ridden cottage grasping each other's shoulder and trying to shove each other. Daytha followed behind, still sipping his tea. He would see the proceeds of this argument, even if it meant enduring the cold snow outside.

Nama followed Daytha outside, wrapping a pale shawl around her shoulders. When Daytha stepped through the door, he saw his uncle and brother grappling with each other in the River Green, hands locked on each other’s shoulds and trying to push the other down in the water. Nama stood beside Daytha, sipping her tea. “So your the calm one?” she asked.

Daytha grinned. “I’m tempted to join them you know.”

“I’ll take that statement back,” Nama said, cupping her drink in her palms. “How has your father been?”

Daytha shrugged. “Dama doesn’t really like showing his emotions to people. I don’t know if he thinks it makes him look vulnerable, or just doesn’t feel comfortable with it. But I think he’s taken Uncle Taious’s death badly. He hasn’t really spoken of him since he returned from the funeral last year.”

“Your father has never been one to show his emotions, but only those around him. If you look displeased, he’ll say so and ask why. But he’ll never tell what he’s feeling unless pressed.” Nama sighed and jerked back as a splash of water hit her toes. “

As I was saying,

you shouldn’t worry about him. If he wants to tell you something, he will. But your uncle, he’s simply going to do whatever he pleases.”

Daytha snorted lightly. “As usual.”

After the trip to Nama’s, where Nama and Daytha had a riveting conversation and Saytha and Uncle Sam were drenched in the river, the road to the capital of Tanvi was none too exciting. Uncle Sam and Saytha bickered the whole way, telling each other that they needed more exercise and that Uncle Sam needed to lay off the pastries and Saytha needed to get a better right hook. Daytha disagreed with the right hook comment, considering Uncle Sam had a bruise growing on his jaw.

When they finally arrived at the palace, both Uncle Sam and Saytha had finally shut up after a firm shout from Dama. The guards at the front gate let them inside readily, and Daytha relished the sight of the gardens dusted with white, the bright summer flowers went to be pressed in books, and the sprawling branches lightly sprinkled with snow. The Ionmir gardens were nothing like those of Tanvi; Tanvi excelled with their beautiful gardens and bountiful exports of produce, but Ionmir was known for their artful design of weapons and tools. Daytha had once heard their tools compared to the dwarven works of the coasts.

As their horses made their way up the gravel path towards the palace’s front gates, Daytha grinned. He hadn’t seen the imposing doors in months.

From the gardens along the path, a shout came from Daytha’s left. He turned around to see Her Highness Estrada standing in the garden with the sleeves of her thick

coat rolled to the elbows, hands darkened with cold soil. A strange Nithe stood behind her, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He too, wore a thick, fur-lined coat, only he looked like he was about to drown in it.

Estrada ran over to their little caravan, and Daytha noted that she wasn’t wearing her usual clothes of cheerful blues or yellow, but of a dark green. Her deerskin coat was rolled up at her elbows, letting her dig around in the topsoil. Her shawl was tucked into her belt, the thick leather embroidered with ancient words that Daytha seemed to remember from the Tanvi library when Rohad had dragged him there years back. As she ran over, it looked as if her shawl was slipping for her shoulder and Daytha found it strange that she wore such an ensemble for the weather. While it was cold, yes, it wasn’t cold enough for a Nithe to be wrapped in deerskins to the throat.

Daytha remembered what she had worn when he had last seen her. A small memory, yes, but memorable. She had worn a deep green robe and lace shawl the last time he had seen her. The seasons might have been different, but Estrada’s style in clothing changed almost as easily as her hobbies; that is, not very common.

When Daytha turned around, his brother was already off his horse, grinning like a madman. Estrada ran up and wrapped him in a hug, to which he returned. Daytha came down from his own steed and grinned as well. Estrada leaned back, her hands still on Saytha’s shoulders. She seemed to think for a moment before saying, “You need a haircut.”

Saytha shook her hands off his shoulders and mussed his friend’s hair. “And you need something to keep that mane down. A bit too frizzy, I’d say.”

Estrada shoved him playfully and undid her already falling shawl. She wrapped it around Saytha’s head, covering his tangled hair from view. “There. Much better. And why are you wet?”

Saytha shrugged. “Snow.”

Then, still grinning, Estrada turned to look at Daytha. He was greeted with a warm hug, and he smiled against the embrace. “Tell me,” Estrada said, pulling away, “when was the last time Saytha had a haircut?”

“Months,” Daytha smiled, metaphorically throwing his brother under the horse.

Estrada clucked. “Split ends. He needs it cut.” She stepped back, returning Daytha’s space to him. “Now I suppose you’ll want to know– now what are you doing?” Estrada turned to Saytha, who was drying off his hair with the lace shawl.

“Well, I’d rather be dry when I get inside, right?”

Estrada stomped over and took her shawl back. She smiled at his foolishness. “You are a fool.”

“A charismatic heir, you mean.”

Estrada dramatically held up her hand and lifted her nose. “I am done with you. I shall speak to you later, once my shawl has dried.”

“So be it,” Saytha grinned and crossed his arms.

Estrada turned to Daytha, who watched the conversation with curiosity. “I expect you’ll want to find Rohad and Adirous. Adirous is bound to be in his quarters, writing poetry worse than Dama’s. And Rohad should be in the library, as he usually is.”

“Poetry? What is this obsession with–”

Daytha was interrupted by another voice, sounding humorous. “What am I, brother? Old, not worthy of a welcome.”

Estrada turned away from Daytha, twice now, not that Daytha was bitter, and faced Uncle Sam, her hands on her hips. “And now you’re simply being dramatic. You haven’t even got five centuries under your belt.”

Uncle Sam shrugged, hugging his eldest niece. While their families were not related through blood, Daytha’s family, along with Estrada’s, were close enough to be kin.

After Uncle Sam and Estrada had exchanged a few words, Uncle Sam gave her a pat on the shoulder and headed back down the path. Dama stepped down from his horse and patted Estrada lightly on the shoulder, mildly commenting that the fabric was of nice quality. Then, same as Uncle Sam, he left to go arrange his quarters.

Estrada turned around and wrapped an arm are Saytha, who did the same. “You need to see this new bill I’ve been working on. I think you might be able to help me make the revisions.”

Daytha smiled as Saytha handed him the reins of his steed, and followed his friend through the gardens. As they stepped out of sight, Daytha could hear his brother laughing, loud and joyous.

He was happy for him. While he might have fancied Estrada as more than a friend, Daytha was glad that his brother hadn’t let that get in the way of his friendship with the Dathus.

As Daytha watched them go, he remembered the other figure who was in the garden with Estrada before they arrived. The Nithe still stood, rooted to the ground, his expression had gone from curious and glad to seemingly unhappy, his brows furrowed.

If there was one thing his father had taught him, it was how to read people.

The Nithe was probably a friend of Estrada’s, or—worse—her suitor. Daytha felt the need to introduce himself if only to make the Nithe feel better. Or, perhaps for some reason to show that his family would not be pushed around. The idea stemmed from some bitter pride that Daytha felt displeased with like it was some ancient belief of superiority.

It was distasteful.

Daytha decided to walk away, to store the acknowledgment of the Nithe’s displeasure for a later date, and followed his father and uncle to the palace.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The potion bubbled lightly, and Esli marveled at the steam. She hadn’t expected the potion to warm up, much less bubble.

Esli was tempted to try it, just to see if she would be able to hear, but she decided against it. An hour was almost up, and it would not bode well for Jared to come inside, tell her what better to do, and then her not hear it.

Esli sat by the fire, choked by the smoke and poking at the dying fire with the blackened end of an old walking stick. A twig inside fell, and a tiny plume of sparks fell.

Esli watched the fire, wondering how it worked. Rona had once said that she asked far more interesting questions than her adult students, whether they be guards or cadets. Esli had asked why the throwing knife went head over tail, and why it had to be so perfectly balanced. They might have been simple questions for other people, but Esli wanted to know.

With a

bang

, the door behind her opened, and Jared strode in, behind him, a young-looking maid with scars on her hands and a gaunt face. Esli didn’t know her name, but she had once given Esli a scarf when it was cold.

“Is the halfwit finished?” Jared demanded, his frozen eyes looking through the room. “What is that smell?”

Esli stayed quiet and simply stood to acknowledge his presence.

“Well?” Jared asked.

“I used some of the paper by that corner for a fire,” Esli explained, wringing her hands.

“The paper by the corner? What paper by the?–” Jared’s eyes widened as he realized something about the paper.

Esli stepped away at his enraged expression, his face turning from a soft blue to a splotchy indigo. He reached down, fast as a striking snake, and grabbed Esli’s wrist.

“Do you know how long I spent on those?” he demanded, seething.

“But there wasn’t any ink,” Esli explained and was sure she looked terrified.

“No, there wasn’t any ink, because I was making the damn pages with a Fool’s Pen! Invisible ink! Those documents were

priceless!

”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know–”

Jared took Esli’s hand in his own and gripped her palm hard, and it

hurt

. Esli yelped as he clasped his hand. Three, faint pops sounded, and Esli almost fell from the pain. It spread up her arm and through her shoulder. Jared released her hand and Esli looked at the limp appendage, various pieces bending the viridian skin this way and that. It had already begun to swell.

Jared turned to the serving girl. “Clean all this up. Dispose of the ingredients and give the potion to the cadets in the training grounds. If it works they’ll be unable to hear for the day, and if not they’ll be swimming in the harbor.”

The maid nodded and scurried out of the room, ready to go fetch something to clean up the ashes. Jared stared down at Esli, and, with a curt look, hissed, “Go. You’re not needed here, foolish one.”

Esli tried her best to not run towards the door but found that she didn’t really care about looking strong. She opened the door and left quietly, already starting to find her way to the Hospital.

Esli had once disliked Jared for many reasons, but no harm had been done to her. Esli hated him for how rude he was to the servants around the Fortress, and the time when she had watched him order a man to die in the dungeon. But now, instead of a wary fear, Esli was

terrified.

Her hand ached with every step she took, even though her hands and walking did not correlate. When she looked at her fingers, she saw that her index finger was bent, her little finger even moreso.

Esli sniffed and felt tears well in her eyes. It

hurt.

She didn’t what else to think. She quickly turned a corner, and, in her haste to get to the Hospital, she almost ran into a servant girl. The servant almost dropped her bucket of water, but Esli didn’t deign to apologize. When the doors to the Hospital came into view, Esli ran through the open gates and found Azalea sitting at the desk, reading through a sheaf of papers. The nurse looked up and smiled. “Esli, where have you been? What’s the matter with that hand–?”

Azalea broke her statement and rushed forward, papers forgotten. Azalea knelt down on the ground and gingerly took Esli’s bokeh hand. “Does it hurt?”

Esli wanted to yell and say that obviously, her hand hurt, but that would be rude, and she didn’t know what Azalea would say to that. Instead, she simply nodded and stood there as Azalea prodded at her aching hand. Azalea squeezed her little finger and Esli yelped. Azalea muttered an apology and finished her examination,

Azalea led her to one of the soft beds and had her sit down. As Azalea looked through a drawer, she said, “So you’ve broken your fifth metacarpal in your left hand, your second middle phalange, and your fifth proximal phalange. And, to add to everything, your distal phalange in your thumb is a little bit skewed. So I’m going to bind your fingers together, which means I’ll take a piece of wood, and I’ll fix it along your fingers, and then tie the wood around your hand. That way, you won’t be able to move your fingers.” After a moment, Azalea came back with three, flat, wooden sticks and a roll of thin bandages.

Azalea looked back at Esli’s fingers and tutted at the dark discoloration at the tips of her fingers. “I need to straighten your fingers, which is going to hurt. Do you want me to get you something to bite down on?”

Esli shook her head.

Azalea shrugged. “Alright then.”

As Azalea bound Esli’s fingers to the wooden sticks, tying them securely with the bandages, Esli felt like she was going to faint. Once the nurse had finished, she looked at
Esli with a concerned look on her face. “So do you want to tell me what happened? Because those breaks were pretty bad.”

Esli looked up at Azalea, who sat on the bed beside her. She wiped her nose with her unbroken hand and said. “I burned some of Jared’s papers, but I didn’t know! They looked blank, and–”

Esli felt tears well in her eyes and she quieted, sniffling softly. Azalea wrapped her arms around, rubbing her head lightly. “It was an accident,” Esli whispered in between her sobs.

Esli hated crying. Her face looked weird and she hated

why

she cried. She hated the origin, or the reason why she wept.

Azalea rubbed her back and whispered sweet nothing in her ear until Esli fell asleep on her shoulder, exhausted already from the day.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Daytha found Rohad in the library, as usual. He had fallen asleep on the wooden floor, using an open book as his pillow. A thin blanket was draped over his shoulders, and Daytha recognized it as Kayleth’s.

Daytha sighed and knelt beside his friend, who snored lightly. How could he still be asleep at this hour? It was almost noon! Daytha shook Rohad’s shoulder lightly, and the Nithe made a small snort sound as he awoke. “Hmm?”

Daytha cleared his throat and said, in a much deeper voice. “You, sir! Do you not remember that sleeping in the library is prohibited?”

Rohad wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and hugged the edge to his chest. “Not to the Datha.”

“Ah! So the Rule of Law does not apply to the Dathus's family?”

“Yup. Now go away, Plyis, I’m sleeping,” Rohad muttered.

“Wrong brother.”

“Go away, Adirous.”

“Wow, you treat your guests that way? Auntie Eliza’s got some work on her hands,” Daytha remarked, taking a pencil and tapping a tune on one of Rohad’s curling horns.

Finally, the man looked up. “Daytha, how long do I have to tell you not to meddle with my horns?”

“Until you're too tall to reach,” Daytha grinned.

Daytha looked up from his position on the book, only moving his head. “My neck hurts.”

Daytha snorted. “That’s to be expected. Now come on, let’s go find your brother.”

Rohad finally sat up and brushed off his shirt. He closed the creased book and gathered his things. When Daytha looked further, he saw the dark circles under his friend’s eyes and how his hair looked unkept, like it was dry and unwashed.

“You look terrible,” Daytha noted. He doubted Rohad was getting enough sleep.

Rohad paused at the grand doors of the library before he nodded lightly. “I’ve been… conducting some research. About the sky.”

“The stars?” Daytha wondered.

Rohad nodded.

Daytha’s face turned dark. “You ought not dwell with the stars,

riis.

The Lady does not take well to those who meddle.”

“Do you not think I consulted the temple first? I sat in the catacombs for

days

before starting,” Rohad said.

“And did you hear anything? A whisper?”

Rohad paused, stopping in his tracks. “No. I did not. I have not heard anything, ever.”

Daytha nodded. “Not even from the Dark One?”

“Not even from Ownoyo,” Rohad sighed and continued towards his brother’s chambers.

The stars were not something a mortal, even those with long life were to tamper with. To properly see the stars, a Nithe had to ask the gods, Islay, the Lady of the Forge, Ebrar, the Creator and Queen of Green Things, and Ownoyo, the Lord over the Sky and Death. To see the stars, each of their permissions was needed. To properly create the tools for observation, one would ask Islay for her guidance. To see the sky in such detail, was an offense that needed permission. One would ask Ownoyo for the ability to use their tools to see the sky. And, lastly, one must ask Ebrar for a clear sky and informative findings.

And if Rohad had heard from neither of them, then that meant they either approved of his conquest or simply found it unworthy of their time.

“Are you positive that you want to look to the stars?” Daytha asked.

“One hundred percent. I shall use them for navigation.”

Daytha quirked a brow. “Navigation? Can you not use the trees for directions?”

“There are no trees in the water. Humans have used stars for navigation for centuries, since their creation from the Lightning. I see no reason why I should not
follow
in their steps,” Rohad said, turning another corner to the North Wing of the palace, where Adirous was sure to be sleeping, or, even worse, reciting horrible poetry.

“But the humans

were

cursed! Their ancestors lived long lives, almost as lengthy as ours, but then what did they do? They looked too far into the sky and saw it as their own. And now look! If they planted a tree in maturity, they might not even live to see it bear fruit,” Daytha said. Rohad was being foolish! He was not thinking properly.

Rohad snorted, folding the blanket in his arms and slipping it into his sister’s room. “You are exaggerating, Daytha. For most trees, it takes not even a decade to reach maturity. I will not be cursed for something so simple. In fact, it is for an honorable reason.”

“And what is it?” Daytha demanded. The two had finally reached Adirous’s door.

“I’ll tell you later.”

From inside Adirous’s room, no sound came. Daytha poked his head inside and found it strange. Adirous might not have been the most tidy person, but his room was littered with crumpled pieces of paper, various articles of clothing, and shattered bottles of what looked like ink.

Rohad knocked on the doorframe. “Adirous? How fare you? Are you well?”

A small groan came from

somewhere

in the room, along with a gravelly, “Go away.”

Rohad allowed himself a small grin and stepped inside. Daytha watched as the Datha looked through a pile of dirty laundry, making idle conversation with the voice of his brother. “No poetry today, hmm?”

“No,” Adirous’s muffled voice agreed.

“Well,” Rohad said, folding a pair of dirty socks, “we have company today if you’ll deign to join us.”

Rohad threw the pair of now folded socks into an almost empty basket of dirty clothes. Daytha dutifully stayed by the door, not wanting to touch his friend’s soiled clothing.

“Hang ‘em,” said Adirous’s voice, still muffled and groggy.

“You’d hang your best friends?” Daytha asked, mock astonishment in his voice. “How could one be so callous?”

A blue, horned head popped out of a door that neither Daytha nor Rohad had noticed. “Atom prince?” Adirous asked, his voice no longer muffled by the walls or clothes around the room. Saytha and Daytha were the atom princes to Adirous, the name coming from their kingdom,

Ion

mir.

Daytha gave a mock bow. “At your service, my liege.”

Rohad shook his head and he threw his arm-full of laundry at his brother. “And you’ve been hiding in your closet this whole time.”

Adirous pulled a sock off of his looping horns and threw it back at Rohad, who caught it easily. “I did not

know

that we had company.”

Daytha kicked a ball of paper around the floor. “Of course you didn’t. As it would seem from your horrid excuse of living space, you haven’t got out much recently.”

Adirous clambered out of hiding place and stood before them, his hair looking greasy and his eyes dull with sleep. “I’ve gotten out plenty, I’ll have you know.”

Rohad nodded and wiped his hands off on his trousers. “Well, I’m sure you would like to see everybody else. After you’ve bathed, of course.”

Adirous nodded. “Yes, that would be ideal.

Please

tell me the bathhouses are empty.”

Rohad nodded. “They’re always empty this time of day, brother.”

Adirous grinned, and, after slapping Daytha and Rohad on their shoulders, strode out of the room in search of the bathhouses.

As the two left the heir’s chambers, Rohad turned to a passing servant and told them to get some cleaning personnel working on the Datha’s room. The servant nodded and continued with their current task, taking note of their new orders.

Rohad smiled tightly. “Since Dama died, Adirous has… fallen. He is holed up in his room. He does not even go out in the gardens. It seems that he and Ama share at least one quality: self-deprecating grieving practices.”

Daytha wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “This time, ‘round, we will get Adirous out of his haze. After all the formal ceremonies of welcome and whatnot, we will be going to Asterask, where nobody knows who we are, and where we can get wasted out of our minds, and,

hopefully

, have a good night. Sound fun?”

Rohad sighed. “Only you, atom prince, would revel in the presence of Men.”

“Why, both the gender and race interest me!” Daytha said. “They are the dullest of colors and seem to have their women in the most

ridiculous

clothes. They looked trapped in that many skirts, if I’m being honest.”

Rohad tapped Daytha’s arm lightly, and Daytha took note of removing his appendage from Daytha’s personal space. “You should do well to respect other races’ cultures, my friend.”

“Well.

I’ll

do it when they decide that hunting me for sport is illegal and morally wrong,” Daytha said.

“Nonetheless. You know better.”

Daytha shrugged, properly chastised. “Fine. But we’re all going; you, me, Saytha, Adirous, and Estrada.

Maybe

Kayleth. She might be up for it.”

At the end of the hall, the two friends bid each other farewell, both princes ready to prepare for the welcoming festivities that awaited them.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saytha enjoying his evening. They had left the welcoming festivities a little after eleven and had made it to Asterask by midnight. Now, the group huddled around a shady bar, mugs of ale in each of their hands.

Saytha enjoyed the sight. Humans, dwarves, Nithe, and even a few Falkir were scattered around the place, all drinking and chatting merrily as if none of them harbored issues among themselves.

Saytha found the sight of his friends, his

family

, together a joy. Estrada had worn something much more

Nithe

at the party. A loose, draping dress that demonstrated her figure nicely, with long sleeves split in the middle that fell to the floor. No other patron or matron at the establishment looked as nice as she did, Saytha knew that as a fact, not even he outshone her beauty.

Her twisting horns were strung with golden ribbons, their cheer covering the dark, obsidian beads that hung from them. She held her mug of ale in one hand and had won three drinking contests between all of them. Just seeing her grin, Saytha was tempted to

challenge her again, whether he won or lost was of no consequence, he only wanted to see that bright smile.

The group had descended into madness as an awful game of truth or dare ensued between them. Every time they met, they had new secrets to tell, new stories to share.

Every once in a while, a barmaid would come over with new drinks. Saytha watched as Adirous drunkenly told the human woman that her eyes shone like fresh pottery, ready to fired in the kiln. The woman lightly swatted at his shoulder, grinning at the compliment.

After they had had their fill of drink, they wandered into the cobbled street, unrecognizable in the sea of revelers. Apparently, there was a holiday in Asterask, and the Nithe royalty hadn’t checked.

Soft music flowed from the heart of town and they wandered towards the jovial sound, the group ready for more revelry.

A dancing jig played from the band, colorful cloth swayed and slipped through the air, dancers spinning in their partner’s arms as they followed the tune and rhythm.

Saytha turned to Estrada, her face flush with alcohol, and he grinned. “Care to dance?”

Estrada nodded. “Only if you’re sure you don’t mind broken toes.”

Saytha took her hand and led them into the dancing circle. “You only step on the toes of those you dislike.”

“And you think you’re exempt from that group?”

Saytha grinned as he was swept into another woman’s arms. When he met Estrada again, he said, “I think I’m exempt from the ‘dislike’ group. After all, you accepted readily.”

Estrada laughed, and if Saytha could hear one thing, it wouldn’t be the music or the clapping and yelling of the crowds, but her loud, untethered laugh. Estrada’s laugh was small and ladylike to the public. When alone, with her friends, it was loud and joyous, and if you heard it, you would think that it was the best sound in the world.

When the song ended, Daytha pulled Adirous into the fray and Saytha and Estrada stepped out.

As the joy around them continued, Estrada found them a bench to sit on. Their feet hurt a bit, and the respite from welcome.

Estrada leaned against the wooden slats on the rickety bench, stretching her arms high to the sky. “I haven’t had a night like this in

ages.

”

Saytha smiled. “Me neither.”

The music continued flowing and the people continued dancing. Finally, Estrada spoke again. “It’s been… a bit lonely in the palace without you. And Daytha, of course,

but things haven’t been as enjoyable. I’ve hardly got any free time anymore, with Ama in such a state, but still–”

Saytha put his hand on her shoulder, hoping it would be a steady calm in her anxiety-fuelled speech. “I suspect that you haven’t had a lot of time to yourself. Should your hardships as Regent, even if that title is official, grow too much, know that I’m here if you need me. We’ll go dancing every night if it makes your mind at ease.”

Estrada smiled, and he’d be damned if he never saw it again. The two had leaned in close, close enough to

kiss.

But Saytha didn’t go any closer; he wouldn’t make any move unless she wanted him to, no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Ess, I–”

Saytha was cut off by Rohad who waved to them excitedly. He shouted, “Adirous fell! Come help him up!”

Estrada sighed as she was drawn from the interaction, and Saytha sat still on the bench, wondering if he had let his only chance of a kiss from Estrada slip between his fingers.

After Adirous had been rescued, Estrada headed out to a little shop—still open, surprisingly—to buy some strange perfume. The Aytha boys, along with Adirous and Rohad, headed to the city’s huge garden, where a bonfire had been erected and people milled about, telling stories. It was, by far, the quietest part of town. Adirous had painstakingly convinced Saytha to join them at the fire instead of going with Estrada, but Saytha was quite delighted with his decision. The people around him were loud with drunken and joyous songs, and ale was freely poured. In the more quiet places, further into the darkness, stories were told of valiant human knights and brave sea-faring dwarves, Nithe lords keeping the peace and Falkir sharing their magical flowing water.

Saytha gleefully listened to a Falkir’s description of their family’s ancestral creek. The Falkir said that in the ripples and rapids, you could see the future, and then delve into a future they had seen before they left to come to the city. The future was filled with dark actions and humorous replies. The Falkir were renowned for their magical properties, but also for their storytelling.

As the fire crackled loudly behind the group, Saytha heard a great shout from the fire. He, along with most of the group, turned to see the commotion. Adirous, looking soaked with

something,

was thrown into the air by a group of people, with Daytha standing at the edge of the crowd, his arms crossed. Rohad sat by the fire, warming his hands with another Nithe who spoke softly.

Saytha rolled his eyes and continued listening to the Falkir, who had just started with their next Future vision.

Once the Falkir had stopped their story and said that they were finished, the crowd around them dispersed, Saytha following the group. If Saytha were being honest, he wanted to find Estrada. He wanted to see what fragrance she had bought this time. The last time they had been in Asterask, Estrada had bought a perfume scented with lavender and rosemary, and she had said she wanted to try something new.

As Saytha wandered off from the group, he found Estrada just coming out of her shop, waving goodbye to somebody inside.

She grinned when she saw him. “Well, well, Mr. Aytha, coming to get some soaps and scents, are we?”

Saytha shrugged. “Any recommendations?”

Estrada shook her head. “No, I think you wear the pine smell well. Now tell me, what was Adirous doing last you saw?”

Saytha remembered the bonfire. Adirous was being thrown into the air, probably soaked in wine, now that Saytha thought about it. He raised a brow. “You really want to know?”

“As long as you didn’t see him with pants down, then yes.”

Saytha snorted. “No, I didn’t. Do you want me to take those bags?”

Estrad shouldered her light load and gave Saytha a look. “You are deflecting. What has the heir to Tanvi done this time?”

“Not much this time, truly,” Saytha assured her. “Last I saw, a bunch of people were tossing him in the air, and he was most likely covered in wine, but I didn’t stay long. Do such activities sound like him?”

Estrada looked up as if in prayer and sighed. “Yes. Let us go find him before he causes any more trouble.”

As they walked through town, they met up with Rohad and Daytha, who were stopped by a law officer after they had “accidentally” doused him in wine, White specifically.

Estrada had convinced the man to let them go, which he did begrudgingly. After the officer was out of earshot, Daytha burst into raucous giggles. Rohad, as always stayed stoic and calm, those his face betrayed him with a faint grin.

Estrada snorted. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes. The man was, in Daytha’s words, ‘dousing the fun,’” Rohad said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

Estrada frowned. “I could care less about who was dousing the fun. What I do care about, however, is how you present yourself in public, Rohad. Now, where is Adirous?”

“Given circumstance, I’d say in the prisonhouse. I saw him scuffling with a human man not too long ago,” Rohad answered.

“And did you not think to stop him?” Estrada asked, her voice rising an octave in anger.

Daytha shrugged. “It seemed to be his fight. Anyway, they were having a screaming match about mothers before the fight.”

Saytha pursed his lips. The one thing a man was not to do, was insult a mother. He sighed. “I suppose didn’t see anybody drag him away?”

Rohad shook his head. “Oh, no, a dwarven officer pried them apart.”

Estrada sighed and gestured towards Daytha and Rohad. “You two, go find Adirous. We’ll gather the horses.”

Daytha was Rohad left as they were told, and Estrada and Saytha headed to the inn where their horses were tied.

Estrada sighed. “I am so…

weary

of their antics. I’ve got Kayleth to placate, and now them. It’s just–”

“Unfair?” Saytha offered. Miserably, Estrada nodded.

“It’s not

fair

that I have to take care of them, along with the kingdom. It’s been a whole

year

and Ama still hasn’t gotten up off her ass. I’m

tired of it!

This is not my job,” Estrada said, untying her horse’s lead.

Saytha put a light hand on her shoulder. “Estrada.”

Her voice shook. “What?”

“If you feel so wronged by your mother, why don’t you tell her?” Saytha asked.

Estrada turned around, her eyes red-rimmed and mouth pursed. “Because I don’t know

how.

Ama is grieving, and who am I to tell her to get over it?”

Saytha scowled incredulously. “You’re her

daughter,

Ess. If you couldn’t tell her to fix herself, who could? You tell her that she needs to get off her ass and do her job. It’s been a year since your father died, and it’s time she woke up. When was the last time you even saw her?”

Estrada scowled in thought. “Months. She hasn’t been out of her chambers in

months.

”

“Exactly. She needs to focus not on what she’s lost, but on what she

has. You

are what she has, and she needs to keep that in mind.”

Saytha pulled his hand from her shoulder and—surprisingly—Estrada wrapped him in a hug. After his initial shock, Saytha rubbed her back gently. “You–”

“Don’t speak, just hold me,” Estrada said, her voice muffled.

“Alright.”

Once they had found Adirous, who was not, in fact, at the jail, but hanging upside down in an oak tree, the group headed back home at the joyous hour of two o’clock in the morning.

Rohad was diligently talking about the stars and the ways to travel and pray by them, with various interjections from Daytha, who was adamant that whatever Rohad was doing was foolish.

“Honestly, if he didn’t hear anything, then wouldn’t that be a good thing? If the gods didn’t give their adamant opposition, then–”

“But he’s meddling with the star, Essie! Don’t you remember that old Nithe who tried to see the future without going to the temple? He turned into a frog, for Ebrar’s sake!” Daytha said.

“Because he was playing with dark magic, Daytha, not–”

“Yeah, and the stars

are

dark magic, Estrada! It’s a fool’s errand to deal in such quandaries. Has he gotten permission from the priests, or from Auntie Eliza? Really Estrada, how can you not see that this will not end well? The last thing I was to nag, but this is foolhardy–”

Rohad interrupted, “If your brother had gone missing, wouldn’t you do anything to get him back?”

“Yes–”

“And so am I.”

Daytha and Rohad continued arguing, Estrada’s input forgotten. Saytha sighed at his family’s bickering. While he knew that Daytha’s objections were borne of fear, he couldn’t help but fear that Daytha was too… insistent. Of course, there was always a danger with meddling with foreign objects, but why would Daytha be so insistent? What was agitating him so?

Out of the two boys bickering, Saytha heard a soft

thump

and disturbed whinny behind him. He glanced behind his shoulder, hoping to see Estrada’s cerulean form shaking her head in irritation. He was taken aback when he didn’t see her. “Estrada?” he called.

Estrada’s horse shook its mane and stamped, staying in place instead of moving with the group. Saytha leaped off his horse, and the group started to stir with Estrada’s disappearance. Saytha calmed the horse, muttering sweet nothings in its ear. After the horse had calmed, Saytha carefully edged toward the darkened path behind them, ignoring the calls of his friends. “Saytha, what are you doing?” Daytha asked.

“I’ll catch up,” Saytha responded, grabbing the dagger at his side.

A form appeared on the leaf-strewn ground, raven hair splayed like dark water. Saytha ran over to the figure and was horrified to see Estrada collapsed in the road, an arrow pointing out of her back.

For Daytha, the next couple of minutes were

terrifying.

Saytha had dashed back to his horse with Estrada limp in his arms. When Daytha had seen his brother, eyes darker than night, he was—for the first time—frightened of him. Then, once he had dashed off, his horse gone in an instant, Daytha turned to his friends.

“Did she just get

shot?”

Adirous asked, incredulous.

Rohad cleared his throat. “It would seem so.”

“Well, who in six hells would do that?” Adirous asked, aghast.

“Before we answer that question, how about we follow them, hmm?” Daytha said, breaking into the conversation.

Daytha was so confused.

He was

very

scared, as well.

“A fine idea.” Rohad spurred his horse, and the others followed.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

An arrow.

That Rona hadn’t shot.

What the hell.

And it was at the wrong person too! Had Jared sent somebody else to do her job? She knew that if somebody else killed the blueberry men, she wouldn’t complain, but still! She felt insulted!

However, it was

not

Rona’s intended target, so it had to be a different party. If she were being honest, Rona had no idea how the younger one, Saytha, hadn’t seen her. She wasn’t even more than three yards into the tree line!

Roona looked above her, where the arrow had come from. Above her was a terrified look Nithe, and, even in the gloom, Rona could see their shocked and frightened expression. She almost laughed. Whoever the Nithe had intended to kill, it

wasn’t

the princess. As Rona watched the three princes ride through the path, she realized that right then had been an opportune time to strike.

But, gazing up at the Nithe’s horrified expression, she decided that it was worth it to not throw any knives.

As Rona stepped out of her hiding spot, the Nithe above her seemed to notice the crunching of the leaves below her. He nocked an arrow and aimed it at her, defense and anger flashing through the dark of night.

Rona pulled a knife from the sheath across her chest and threw, the sharp end lodging into the tree behind the Nithe. His eyes widened and he flinched, almost falling out of the tree. He looked towards her, terrified.

“Shhh,” Rona whispered, putting her finger to her lips as she grinned.

Rona liked to think that she was a good person, but she really wasn’t. A good person wouldn’t throw a knife and scare a man in a tree, and a good person wouldn’t even be on this mission. But she digressed.

Unhappy to leave her knife behind, Rona quietly trudged down the leaf-strewn road and about some new tactics. Almost through the whole ride, Saytha, the younger one, was sniffling. Either he had gotten a cold on the trip to Tanvi, or had some magical bug. Either way, Rona was sure he would be slightly incapacitated over the next few weeks.

And if so, that would be one mark less.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The next day, Rohad was not happy.

Not only had his elder sister been shot with a mysterious arrow, but her suitor was screaming at him to provide him with answers. If Rohad were being honest, it took every ounce of restraint not to simply walk away.

“How could you

not

know what happened? She was right there!” Shaltho shouted (Ah, alliteration. One of Rohad’s most favored forms of writing).

“Do you have eyes in the back of your head, Shaltho?’ Rohad asked, finally at his wits’ end.

“Of course not!” the scholar said, scowling (Alliteration again!).

“Well, neither do I. Now please, if you so desire to be of any help, sit at her bedside like a good suitor. Her face will glow like the morning sun if she sees you there,” Rohad said, turning away from the irritating Nithe and continuing making his way down to the hall to the library where he would go over his notes from the Council meeting. They had finally gone over the unrest among the citizenry and had not yet concluded how to fix the problem. However, Jalko had brought his “talking toy”, which helped arguments dissolve faster.

At first, Rohad was going to say that whoever spoke when the toy holder had the toy, the toy holder could hit them over the head. However, that soon descended into madness, so Rohad had simply told Jalko to throw sand at whoever spoke. And, with such vain old Nithe, they stopped speaking quickly.

In the library, the sunlight streamed through the windows merrily, completely polar to how Rohad felt at the moment. His sister was near Death, for Ebrar’s sake, and the Council still expected him to make an appearance? It was foolish, to the highest extent.

Just as Rohad flipped over the first page of his notes, he heard amiable chatting from the entrance. No one, not even Adirous, would come into the library in such a chatting manner. It could only mean one thing.

“Rohad! How was the meeting?’ Uncle Sam asked, after finally finding him among the dusty shelves and ancient wooden tables.

“Dreadful.”

Uncle Sam scratched the back of his head, and, grimacing, said, “Yes, I’m afraid that they’re like that. So tell me, what happened?”

“I’m afraid that’s confidential,” Rohad answered, scribbling out a false phrase with his pen and rewriting it.

Uncle Sam tapped his chin in thought. He grinned. “What if I could get your mother to attend the meetings instead?”

Rohad turned away from his work and raised a brow at his uncle, interested and insulted. “The Dathus is in no condition to be returning to work.”

“Ah, yes, but do you want her to? And better yet, does she need to?”

Rohad thought. Ama had not left her chambers in months, and Rohad hadn’t seen her for longer. The only reason he knew she was still alive was because of the trees who peered in her window.

Rohad crossed his hands in his lap. “What do you think, Uncle Sam?”

Uncle Sam snorted. “Oh, she needs to get out. I’d say she has the worst vitamin D deficiency in the world. And if she stays inside all day, she’ll only get worse. When Ara, Saytha and Daytha’s mother, died, he wouldn’t leave the palace. But, after I dragged him into the woods and shoved him in the river, he got better.”

Rohad raised a brow. “You suggest I push my mother into the River Green?”

Uncle Sam smiled. “No. I suggest a push of

emotion

. Aytha almost drowned after I pushed him, and I suspect that his feelings of anger shoved away his feelings of grief. Sure, they were still there, but he had other things occupying his mind. Well, I had the boys run up to him after we got back to the palace, so he would be occupied with them. You’ll be surprised how much reading comprehension can draw one out of grief.”

Rohad blinked. “That sounds extremely unhealthy.”

Uncle Sam shrugged. “He needed a distraction, and the boys needed their father back. While a distraction can’t draw you away from your grief, it can help. Now, I say we go see your mother, and see if she’ll go with us.”

Rohad shrugged. “So be it. But you know that this could end horribly?”

“Oh, yes, that’s the goal.” Uncle Sam grinned as he left the library.

The Dathus’s eyes creaked open, like a rusty lid. Vines grew around her dark horns and curled around her ears and head like hair, their soft leaves mingling with her slick hair. Thick, vibrant vines wrapped around her head and fell with her hair, tumbling to the floor in a pool. She sat cross-legged against the wall in her office, the chair in pieces nearby and the desk flipped over. The vines had almost completely wrapped around her neck, and traveled around her body, crawling up as if to absorb her. The vines had even started crawling up her horns,

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke. “What?”

Nathir clasped his hand and pursed his lips. “Your daughter, your Majesty. Estrada… she’s been wounded. Fatally.”

Eliza’s eyes widened, and one of the leaves from a vine fell to the ground, withered. “What happened?” she asked, her voice icy.

“The group left a few nights ago, into town. As they were coming back, Estrada was shot. We don’t know–”

Eliza tried to stand, but failed, as the vines in her hair had latched onto the wall behind her. She stood shakily and gathered them all in her hand and pulled. The greenery fell away from the wall and Eliza wrapped it around her hand and marched out the door. Nathir had only seen such a trance when he was young, when his mother, the old coroner, had taken him to a Nithe’s house to retrieve their body after they died in their trance.

The trance is only achieved in times of great grief when a Nithe doesn’t move, doesn’t do

anything,

and the trees try to stake their claim. Eliza shoved past him to get to the door and started down the hall, and still attached vines and hair ran behind her.

Natjir followed her out. “Eliza, where are you going?!”

Eliza gave no answer.

Eliza ran down the hall, the cold stone of the floor stinging her feet. The vines in her arms were heavy and thick, like the ropes of a ship. The leaves tickling her face were of no importance as she ran through the halls and almost ran into a servant. The girl looked horrified and Eliza dashed past her, probably having never seen a person growing vines.

The doors to the healing wing of the palace were closed, and two guards were stationed at the door. If Eliza weren’t so worried, she’d be proud of her daughter’s protection. The guards, while shocked at the Dathus’s appearance, crossed their spears and blocked the door.

Eliza stepped back, affronted. “What is this?” she asked. “Let me in!”

The guards glanced at each other warily. Finally, one spoke. “Your Majesty, no one is to enter the healing wing.”

“So says who? I am the Dathus, for Ebrar’s sake!”

“So says Datha Aytha.”

Eliza grit her teeth. “I don’t give a damn what Aytha says!

I

am queen,

I

rule this kingdom, not him!” Eliza shouted.

The guards glanced at each other again, this time in fear. “Well, your Majesty, Datha Aytha is in the healing wing. He’s operating and–”

“Then that gives me every reason to be there!” Eliza's face turned stony. “I will give you one last chance.

I

have jurisdiction over this kingdom,

and

this palace, and I say

let me in.

”

The first guard drew his spear back and the second did hesitantly. Eliza shoved past them and opened the door, the vines she held dropped to the floor. They dragged behind her with her dress and hair. A Nithe was at a desk in the front of the healing wing, staring down at some book. Eliza strode past her with nothing said, and the woman shouted after her as she made her way to the surgery room. “Ma’am, you can’t go that way–”

“I’ll do as I please,” Eliza growled, shaking off the woman’s arm as she shoved open the door.

When she looked inside, she was terrified.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Saytha was sick.

So was Uncle Sam.

Apparently, brawling in the River Green during the height of winter was

not

the best idea. Uncle Aytha had looked them over and said that they needed to stay in bed and keep warm.

Of course, Saytha didn’t

want

to stay in bed, but he really didn’t have a choice. He was

exhausted

. Oh, and his head was aching something fierce.

It was midafternoon, and nobody had told him anything about Estrada. He had heard somebody say that the Dathir had awoken from her chambers, and his father had had to keep her out of the healing wing. Also something about vines.

It had been a few days since Estrada had been shot, and Saytha was growing restless. Nobody had told him anything, and he was doomed to live the rest of his days in this bed.

He had been ridden with a sniveling nose and an annoying cough since he had got to Tanvi, and now he just felt worse.

As Saytha fell back asleep, he thought back to his first moments in the palace, not even a week ago. The man with Estrada had seemed down, as if he were unhappy. Even from far away, his shoulders were squared in anger and his head tilted in either confusion or unease.

Whatever he and Estrada had been doing or discussing, the Nithe seemed unhappy at her leaving to greet them. As Saytha drifted off into sleep, he wondered why Estrada greeting him would elicit such a response.

When Eliza awoke for the second time, she felt

lighter.

She leaned up in the bed and patted her head. Instead of the thick, winding vines, there was a thin bandage around her forehead. She looked at her hands and found that their dorsum was wrapped in bandages. She slowly peeled one away. Under the bandage was a faint line, curling around her hand and branching off at the wrist. She tore off the rest of white bandages and saw, in horror, that the scars wound up her arm. She felt along her chest and neck and followed them up. None marred her face, but there was a mass on the back of her head, raised lines against her scalp.

The scars were only faint, pale blue lines on her skin, but they unnerved her nonetheless. With a sigh, Eliza realized that she wouldn’t be able to wear short sleeves after this.

After such a thought, she scowled, frightened that that would be the first to come to mind. Why in Ownoyo’s name would she wonder about short sleeves when her daughter was injured, almost dead?

Eliza pulled back the thin covers of her bed and stepped out of the bed. Well, more like toppled.

Just to know, the floor hurts.

Eliza shoved herself off the ground and, in her haste pulled on her hair, which had fallen with her.

Eliza stared at the ebony strands on the stone of the floor. She was beginning to hate her hair. While humans hacked off their locks with no abandon, for a Nithe to shear their hair would be

mortifying.

A Nithe’s hair was their pride, a show of faith to strangers. For royalty, long hair was a sign of peace, showing that a kingdom had not been to war in ages. Eliza prided her long hair; it went all the way to the floor. While it was difficult to maintain, it showed other people her level head and strong resolve.

Eliza

hated

her hair. She did not feel peaceful; she wanted to

hurt

and

kill

whoever had paid her family for such offenses. She didn’t feel like she earned her token of peace. Frankly, she just wanted to be done with her hair.

Eliza climbed back on the bed, feeling miserable. Eliza wrapped herself in the shin sheet again and fell back asleep, tired after even an infinitesimal effort.

Aytha frowned at the arrowhead on the metal tray. It had long since been cleaned and given to Nathir to try and find who had shot Estrada. Estrada was still in her private room in the healing wing, usually reserved for the Dathir or her spouse. But, as the Dathir no longer had a spouse, it was usually used for anybody else. Now, however, Aytha was feeling petty so he put the eldest Dathir in the room instead of Eliza.

Shaltho, Estrada’s suitor, had come in the room many times, but only with Aytha’s supervision. As Sam had often said, his “overprotective streak was guided towards even the fish in the river.” Aytha, however, wasn’t going to let anything happen to his

unconscious

niece, even if the person was as trusted as Shaltho.

The scholar glared at Aytha from his rickety seat beside Estrada’s bedside. “Do you

really

have to be here?” the young Nithe asked, raising a brow over his glasses.

Aytha looked at him over his own reading glasses. “Indeed. It is best to monitor the patient to examine any developments in health.”

Shaltho sighed lightly and stood, dusting off his tunic. “I’m needed in the library,” he announced as if he were dismissing himself from a great conversation regarding the merits of studying the stars.

“Have fun,” he said as the boy left, an agitated sound to his steps. If Aytah were to be honest with himself, he didn’t like the boy. He was pretentious and acted… overly competent. At times, such a thing could be beneficial, but with Shaltho, it was simply irritating. He interjected his statements at dinner the night before over Daytha

and

Adirous. Each time he did it, Aytha had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something he shouldn’t have.

What Estrada saw in the scholar, Aytha didn’t know.

And, of course, there was the factor of Saytha having feelings for Estrada, so that made Aytha biased. Of course, Shaltho was intelligent and well-read, as well as very motivated with his occupation. However, he was rude and, again, pretentious. A little part of Aytha’s brain told him that Shaltho was only with Estrada to “climb the ladder”, as Sam would say. If the boy were to climb the social ladder, Aytha would prefer he do it

any

other way.

Then, of course, Aytha’s mind drew away from his reading and towards the Queen in the other room. Aytha was worried about her, and just about everyone in the palace
shared his sentiment. Honestly, Aytha wouldn’t be braving the strange healing wing of Eliza’s palace if she and her daughter weren’t in such medical peril.

After Eliza had fallen into a deep sleep, he had gotten a nurse to help him remove the vines from the queen's skin, leaf by leaf, vine by vine. It took ages, having to cut and peel away all that greenery. However, after another exhausting spell to heal all of the scrapes and cuts along her arms and other appendages, Aytha had wrapped her bandages, and he had been eerily reminded of a funeral shroud.

It had been awkward to tear the vines away from her chest, but necessary. The vines had seemed to accumulate right on top of Eliza’s heart, as if the trees that grew the vines were searching for the source of her grief. Aytha himself had a similar scare, winding along his shoulders and down his back, but not that bad.

Eliza had been left to her grief for a

year

, and, like most parasites, the vines were the epitome of an opportunistic organism. Aytha feared that if Eliza was left to herself for much longer, maybe even another month, she would’ve died.

Aytha sighed. The chair under him felt too hard, and the light streaming through the window itched his eyes. The book in his hand had long since grown boring, and he felt like he wanted to add a few more colors to his embroidery. At first, he was planning on making a tapestry for Eliza after Taious had died, something vibrant and cheerful. Then, Aytha realized that he didn’t have that kind of time. So, instead of a tapestry, he had taken to stitching a scene of the garden by Eliza’s palace, with her and Taious in the background.

He was starting on the colors of orange and red, creating the sky and the fruit hanging from the trees. After one last look at Estrada, Aytha closed his book and took off his glasses. After folding them gently together, he left the room to retrieve his embroidery. As he passed Eliza in her bed, he paused and noticed her unwound bandages and rumpled sheets.

Mournfully, Aytha sighed and tucked the sheets closer around her face, making sure she wouldn’t be cold. Then, after telling the nurse on duty he was leaving for a moment, he headed to his chambers.

As he passed the drawing rooms and gardens, stained glass and offices, he reached his own quarters and quickly retrieved his felt bag of embroidery. Nama had given it to him for his last birthday, after he had made her a handkerchief with a delicate embroidered tulip on it. The bag had proven useful many times, especially during travel.

Aytha stopped at his brother’s door and pondered the idea of saying hello. If anything, Aytha thought that Sam would like some company.

Aytha opened the door and his eyes widened at an unexpected sight. A small human woman with a covered face held a dagger to his brother’s throat. She immediately
turned to him and threw a dagger at him, lightning-fast. Aytha stopped the tiny thing with a fizzle of blue magic. The woman’s eyes widened and she headed out of the open window. However, in Aytha’s rage, which wasn’t a common thing, he muttered the darkest incantation he knew. The woman contorted and fell to the floor, convulsing. Aytha released his spell and whispered a different, more simple incantation. The woman stilled unnaturally and Aytha let her stilled form hover behind him as he walked, embroidery forgotten.

Who would

dare

to hurt the Son of Ionmir? And who would think that it would not result in punishment?

Aytha headed towards the dark—yet small—dungeons under the Tanvi palace. Aytha detested the place ever since Eliza had dared him to go down there at night, without a lantern. Now, however, Aytha felt no trepidation.

He descended the worn and ancient stairs, the woman still hovering behind him, and yanked open the door to one of the iron-clad cells. He delicately dropped the assassin on the floor and broke the spell. After locking the cell door and turning away, he heard a

clank

of the woman running into the cell door. “Let me out of here!” she shouted, her mask falling loose.

Aytha turned around, his brow raised. “And why should I? You have attempted to kill my brother. You are lucky I did not kill you.”

The woman scoffed. “Oh please, he’s just a figurehead! Nothing would happen if he died–”

Aytha’s eyes hardened. “You ought to hold your tongue, woman. It does not fare well for those who meddle with Sons of Ionmir.”

Aytha walked away, back up the slanted stairs, ignoring the protestations of the assassin. He found his embroidery again and continued in Sam's room, not wanting to let his brother out of his sight.

When Aytha finally left Sam’s room, partially content in his assessment of his health, he headed back to the healing wing where he would awaken Eliza and inform her of the recent events.

When Aytha arrived, Eliza was sitting up in bed, the sleeve of her shift falling off of her shoulder, looking like a loose pauldron. She looked up at him with agonized eyes. “What happened?” she whispered, eyes wide.

“After Taious died, you sunk into a trance, and during that trance, you grew vines. Similar to my circumstances, but far worse. Then, A few nights ago, Estrada was shot on her way from Asterask. Saytha brought her to the healing wing. You tried to get to her when you awoke, but I had to calm you down and then remove your vines.” He gestured to Eliza’s arms, “That’s why you’ll find scars along your arms.”

His explanation of events was bland and without detail, as was his usual way. He added few things, just to know that he sympathized, but kept it short.

Eliza sighed and fell back in her bed, closing her eyes. She looked exhausted, and Aytha was sorry for his friend. He was unhappy that she had had to suffer as he had. The loss of a spouse was agonizing, as if one’s heart was ripped out and tossed across the yard; miles away, and seeming unreachable but so close.

“What am I going to do?” Eliza whispered, staring at Aytha with mournful eyes.

Aytha shrugged. “You live.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Daytha was so confused.

Apparently, there had almost been an assassination attempt on his uncle, Estrada had been shot, Auntie Eliza had woken from some sort of “trance”, and Uncle Sam had pneumonia. So did Saytha.

Honestly, Daytha was just happy that Rohad had barred anybody from coming into the library. Rohad had told all of the librarians that they needed to leave, immediately, for political matters that they would discuss. Of course, they had been reluctant and left with the promise of the gift of a book from Ionmir to be delivered at the earliest convenience.

Once the librarians had left, Rohad needed to coral Shaltho out of the library, where he was researching the abilities of the lily-of-the-valley plant. After Rohad had told Shaltho that he needed to leave, the Nithe had been adamant about his staying put. In the end, Rohad pulled the dreaded, “Who has the authority here?” card, and Shaltho eventually left under the excuse of needing to go see Estrada, who was, unfortunately, still unconscious.

Now, Rohad was sitting at his usual table, a scatter of papers around him and an inkwell, half-empty, to the side. Daytha, instead of participating in some productive task, was lying face-down on the floor, waiting for his headache to dissipate.

“My head hurts,” he complained to Rohad.

Daytha heard the creak of his chair as Rohad turned away from his work. “Have you had anything to drink? Dama said hydration is the key to any headache,” Rohad said.

“I
just downed a whole mug of orange juice,” Daytha said, burying his head in his arms.

“Good vitamins,” Rohad conceded, “but not water.”

“What else do you recommend, O great Scholar?” Daytha drawled, his voice quieted by the floor.

“Sleep. Have you been sleeping regularly?”

Daytha thought back. Had he slept well in the past few days? No, he hadn’t. Well of course he hadn’t, his uncle had almost been killed, along with one of his closest friends!

Daytha snorted. “Like hell. You?”

Rohad shrugged. “My work does not give me the time,” he said and turned back to his papers.

Daytha lifted his head from the floor, a question on his tongue. “When

do

you rest? I doubt such prolonged time without sleep would be beneficial.”

“Hmmmmmmm,” Rohad tilted his head in thought and Daytha let his head fall back on the floor.

“Dear goddess, longer than when Plyis was born?” Daytha wondered, exasperated.

Rohad gave him a vague, “Mayhap.”

“

You,

” Daytha said, “

are crazy.

”

After a brief pause, Daytah began again. “No, really. Why are you awake so often?”

Rohad shrugged again, still entrapped in his work. “My elder sister is on Death’s Door. Would you be sleeping soundly?”

Rohad was exhausted.

He had spent the night and the three others before that reading through a thick, ancient tome about how to communicate with each of the gods. Ask for Ebrar, he might take the skin of a sheep and drape it over a rose bush,  and then use the roses to make a certain tea flavored with honey. Then, one would drink the tea, fast for three days, and go to the temple and sit, in complete silence, for the night. At dawn, hopefully, the goddess would appear.

Rohad wanted to try that method, desperately, but the only sheep in the area were owned by a human farmer at the edge of the kingdom, who was far too finicky with his prices and the neighbors. Kayleth had once recommended that they banish him after he charged Ama three silver pieces for just a pair of wool socks—they were for Dama’s birthday, he had a collection—but Ama decided against it because he hadn’t done any criminal offense except sell overpriced socks.

But anyway, he didn’t like tea made from roses.

But now, after Daytha had left, Rohad was hit with the force of his exhaustion. By then, the librarians and other scholars had shuffled back into the library and continued whatever work they were doing. Shaltho gave him a dirty look as he passed, but Rohad really could not describe how much he did not care.

After realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to write or read anything else, he rolled up a scroll he had brought, closed his books, and left after putting his things away.

Then, as he was leaving the library, Councilman Jalko came towards him, walking quickly and a smile on his face. When he saw Rohad, he grinned even wider. “Datha! There you are! The Queen is back. She is in the Hospital right now. I was sent to find you and your–”

Rohad nodded, the gears in his mind moving a mile a minute. He blinked once. “Alright. Thank you, Jalko.” He paused. “You’ll be at the next meeting?”

Jalko nodded, his smile still bright. “Yes, Your Highness, I’ll be there. And let’s hope the Queen will join us, hmm?”

Rohad nodded solemnly as Jalko passed him. “Indeed.”

His mother? Awake? Rohad almost couldn’t believe it.

The walk to the healing wing seemed to take ages, expectations of what had happened falling on his shoulders. What would Ama say? Would she tell him that he had done a good job ruling in her stead? Or would she apologize for her ignorance? No matter what, Rohad could not think up a plausible answer.

The door to the healing wing was crowded with the members of the Council, all arguing with a nurse. “I apologize, sirs, but the Queen will not be seeing anybody right now.”

Rohad dodged past them, and the nurse let him through, with no argument. Councilman Utriah gasped. “Then why does the prince get to come through?”

“The prince has come to visit his sister,” the nurse said, and Rohad almost grinned. He had thought that all members of the Council had been banned from seeing the queen, and the nurse was taking her job seriously.

When Rohad walked through the row of beds, he found only one occupied. In it, was a thin woman with an ashen, blue face. In her hand, she fiddled with her hair, which Rohad felt could probably fall to the floor. She wore a shawl over her nightgown, but Rohad could see small, thin scars tracing around her palms. His mother. Rohad almost wept at how the Dathir had fallen. How had grief wrapped its sharp claws into her heart so quickly? How had none of them gone to see her? And better yet, who had opened her windows to allow the trees in? Everybody in the kingdom knew the trees would take any chance to take a life, especially one so strong.

Rohad, who had gone unnoticed by his mother, came and knelt at her side, grabbing her fidgeting hands. They shook lightly as he held them. Her nails were long and sharp as if they hadn’t been trimmed in ages, but they were clean. Probably the work of Uncle Aytha.

“Ama,” he said, his voice hardly a whisper, “you are alright.”

Rohad sat with his mother as she spoke and wept, and had never felt as helpless as he did then. Not when his father had died, not when he had scoured the forests of Tanvi for his little sister, and not when the gods hadn’t deigned to speak to him.

Through her tears, the Dathir apologized and hugged him fiercely, as if he would disappear. Awkwardly, Rohad patted her shoulder and reassured her of her, and the rest of the family’s health. He honestly didn’t know what else to do.

Rohad pulled a plain handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped Ama’s hand around it. Rohad remembered Uncle Sam’s advice. Strong emotion, he had said.

“Ama,” he said, “calm down. Dry your tears. Now is not the time for weeping, but for strength. We have been wronged by someone, Ama, one who wishes us harm. Now is not a time for mourning, Ama, but one for action. Estrada has almost been killed, and an assassin was found in Uncle Sam’s quarters. It is time for you to wake up.”

Ama looked at him with stony eyes. “Is Sam

dead

?”

Rohad shook his head, now worried about what he had said. “No, but there was a threat. And you know about Estrada.”

Ama nodded, her brow furrowed in what Rohad thought was anger. “I do.”

There was a long pause, and neither spoke.

“Rohad,” Ama said, taking the handkerchief and roughly scrubbing her eyes, “you know I love you?”

Rohad smiled. He hadn’t heard that in a year. What he wouldn’t have given to hear her say that when she was gone?

Rohad nodded. “And I love you.”

Then, suddenly, Ama grabbed Rohad and wrapped her arms around him, as if he were the only thing keeping her afloat in the turbulent waters of grief.

Rohad relaxed in his mother’s embrace, both of them sitting in the uncomfortable hospital bed and reveling in each other’s presence.

Ama pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. “Thank you. For everything. Aytha told me everything you and your sister have done, and I am ashamed to have not been there to see you grow.” She met his gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears, “Can you forgive me?”

Rohad pressed his forehead against hers and said, “I will always forgive you.” And he knew it would be true.