In these Ashes

Prologue

The smell of sweet lilac laces the spring air, as I run, giggling, across the palace lawn. Nipping at my heels, a boy, the same age as me, with a curly mop of brown hair struggles to keep up with me. All elbows and knees, at 11 he stands just a hair shorter than me, despite our being the same age. He grins as I look back at him, showing a gap toothed smile.

"Run!!" I screech over my shoulder. My breaths come ragged and my legs burn.

Suddenly, like a hawk swooping in on it's pray, a flash of a teal dress and auburn hair catches the corner of my eye. An arm snakes around my waist, and I, along with Finn am thrown to the ground.

I roll over on my back, laughing uncontrollably with the exhilaration of the flight.

"I got you!" My mother's smooth voice sings out. Her emerald eyes sparkle with excitement, and her lips twitch into a smile.

"Uhhfmmm" a muffled voice retorts from under me. I shift to the side, as Finn crawls out from under me. "No you didn't!!" He repeats.

"I think I did!!" My mom laughs back, reaching over to ruffle his hair, shaking loose bits of grass and leaves. Looking at the obvious disappointment in his eyes she laughs again, "Oh Finn don't you worry darling, one day you will be able to run twice as fast as me, and then we will see who is laughing then!"

With this thought, he brightens a little. "Yah then I will win every time!"

I roll my eyes, "Yah we will see about that. You still have me to worry about, and we all know you will never beat me!"

He makes a face, "Keep dreaming!"

As if on cue knowing that Finn and I are about to get into a full blown argument, my mother reaches out and tickles our stomaches, making us squirm and screech and forget all of our previous qualms. She always knows exactly the right thing to do to keep the mood light. She knows the best games, the best jokes.

But just as suddenly she stops, drawing back into herself, recoiling like a spring. Suddenly, like a light switch, the game is done, and she wordlessly stands, briskly brushing herself off before helping us to our feet. I look at her confused, so focused on trying to read her face that I almost miss the shadow of a man drift across the ground, the spikes of his golden crown like spears of darkness against the green carpet of grass.

And that was how it always went. Like a bird, my mother was free, beautiful, and wild. She was my best friend, besides Finn. More than that, she represented everything I wanted to be. But every time my mother flew to high, smiled to big, laughed too freely, an invisible cage would close around her, making her back straighten and her smile tighten to a straight emotionless facade. And every time I would watch the shadow of a crown, see the glint of a ruby cast in gold, hear the sharp, deep voice reprimanding her.