Before you begin this story, I must warn you first. This is not a tale of dashing knights and lovely damsels awaiting rescue. It is not the tale of happy endings, with birdsong and rides into the sunset. It is a tale of light magic and dark, of drag...
Llares - the fifth month of the year; last month of spring
KRYSSA
The Rose Farm, Northwestern Valory
13 Llares 577A.F.
Reyce's twelfth birthday dawned bright and beautiful, though threatening clouds quickly rolled in to darken the sky. I hastily took my leave of Vitric in the woods, determined to make it home before the rain. I clutched a plain box to my chest, encasing my gift for my brother: a whole cake iced with pink sugar, made for us by the Widow Ellisa, a treat none of us had had in years. I smiled as I made my way down the rutted path to the farm, my heart light.
The rain began to fall as I arrived, and I hurried inside. The others were waiting for me, gathered around Reyce. His arms were full of Kylee's gift- a squirming kitten, which purred loudly as he stroked its grey fur.
He beamed up at me as I entered, shaking rain from my hair. "Kryssa, Kylee got me a kitten!"
"Yes, dear heart." It had been my suggestion when she had come to me, fretting over her gift. "What will you name him?"
"I'm not sure." He lifted the kitten so I could see it. "What do you think?"
I tilted my head, considering. "Well, the white stripe on its face looks kind of like a mask. What about Bandit?"
"Bandit." He grinned and hugged the kitten to his chest, looking so much like the child he should have been that for an instant I wanted to weep.
Alyxen had crafted him an ornate box, painstaking engravings of his stories carved into each of the sides along with Reyce's name. He had worked on it for months, and his eyes warmed as our brother traced the carving of a family of squirrels, cleverly made to look like each of us, riding on dragons beneath the fragile, handmade hinges.
Lanya's gift was a new shirt, sewn from an old sheet I had been given by one of the villagers. She had embroidered intricate designs on the collar and cuffs, charms for luck and health and family. I had watched her make it, stitching by firelight long into the night after the others had gone to bed, her face rapt with concentration. She blushed when Reyce praised it as one of the most beautiful things he had ever owned, her eyes bright with pleasure.
Brannyn presented him with his favorite dagger, a small child's blade Father had given him before our mother died. He had struggled with parting with it, though it was useless to him now, and it hurt him to watch as Reyce tucked it into his belt. It was one of the few reminders we possessed of what had once been.
At last, it was my turn. I handed him the box, watched his eyes go wide with delight as he opened it, the others crowding around him.
"It's a cake." Alyxen's voice was reverent. "You got him cake."
"It's for all of us to share, but yes." I smiled, pleased. "Happy birthday, Reyce."
His eyes glowed up at me; for a brief moment, I was blinded as brilliant white happiness poured into my mind.
The front door slammed open, letting in the storm.
The happiness vanished.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
