Before This

Hlutr I

The girl walked through the musty market streets, her eyes searching for her favorite stores. For once, she had been eager to go to the market. It was Oaklynn's birthday, and she had finally saved up enough to buy something she had wanted since she was little. A memory.

Oaklynn was roughly pushed out of the path as a man in a long robe shoved pedestrians of the streets.

"Make way, make way! The Dragonhearts are here!"

A few people had landed in the gutter and were cursing at the man, but he couldn't care less. He moved on, pushing more grey-striped folk out of the way as the carriage appeared round the corner. 

It was pulled by horses. Not any horses, but the elegant and strong ones, the well-bred, expensive ones. Four of these marvelous steeds led the carriage along the market-road. On the carriage platform, which was covered with lush rugs and ivory seats stood the Dragonhearts, the most feared family throughout the highlands. There stood the reigning emperor, Magnus Dragonheart. He was strong and able, but it was a running joke among the lower class that his heart was just about as hard as his biceps. Made of stone.

Behind him stood the empress, a ruthless, selfish woman who cared only about the royal house. Her violet fringe rippled in the breeze. Her sculpted face had attracted the attention of many far-away princes in the past, but her personality was what saved them from marrying such a woman if she even would have wanted to. It was rumored that she was behind the tyrannical rule of the Dragonhearts with her late father and Magnus was simply a puppet. The only thing Oaklynn thought Elsa Dragonheart cared about was her daughter, who sat behind her mother being fanned by servants even though winter was in its raw beginning. She was quite shrewd, and had been announced as the heir of the kingdom even though she was in the tender age of eleven. 

On the carriage floor beside her kneeled a young servant holding a satchel embroidered with the princess's name: Tempest. Through the light material of the satchel, an ethereal glow shone. Little children on the street-sides gaped at it and pointed at it and whispered into each other's ears. Tempest's satchel contained several orbs of light, filled with a mystical liquid that was as well-known as it was not. Memories.

Oaklynn peered into her bag, counting out her money. One single ortug and seven pennings. She could buy a memory with the ortug and save the pennings for food. She ducked into a narrow alley, escaping the crowd. When she'd made her way past the jewelry and apparel area, she emerged in the most beautiful street in the market. Also the most protected one.

It wasn't a street, really. It was a circle of Dragonheart-hired sellers, whose stalls exhibited thousands of memories of varying intensity. Oaklynn's childhood friend Andrea had sworn she had seen one attack someone once. 

At first, Oaklynn hadn't understood why people wanted to buy memories. She's asked the guardians of the children's shelter, and they'd explained it to her. 

Today, Oaklynn wanted to buy the memory of her seventh birthday. Five years and it was already fading. She and Andrea and the others had ran down with food to the stream outside the grey settlement near the center of the kingdom. They'd had the time of their lives, playing in the water and gobbling down the food. Oaklynn wanted to relive that moment. But the guardians had also told her another thing. Sometimes memories were locked up by the Dragonhearts to protect civilians. There could be gaps in someone's timeline because the memory had been removed and locked up, and they would never know.

Oaklynn sped up near the entrance only to be blocked by one of the many guards swarming around. There were very strict laws regarding memories. No one except the Dragonhearts could view someone else's memories. 

The guard eyed the brown streak that ran down through the small side braid Andrea had tied for her that day. She stared up at his red one defiantly. In the highlands, lower class people had to dye any one streak of either grey or brown in their hair. Red or blue for middle class and gold or violet for the nobility.

"What are you doing here, girl? You're not supposed to be in this area. Out!" The guard poked her in the chest with the handle of his spear.

Oaklynn put one hand on her hip and jangled her pouch. "I'm here to buy a memory."

"You couldn't afford it in your wildest dreams, girl. I don't see your parents anywhere, by the way."

"I'm from the children's shelter down the fourth lane east from the palace. I haven't got parents. But I have got the money, and it is mine." She firmly moved his spear aside and continued, leaving the guard watching her for any signs of crime. As if.

Oaklynn strode to the other end of the circle where the grey memories were kept. She held up her ortug and the shopkeeper let her in with a snort.

She made her way inside, mouth falling open at the sight of so many memories kept together. Calm ones that rested peacefully in their orbs and fierce ones that fought to get out, but small silver locks rested on all. Oaklynn made her way through the endless aisles before glimpsing her name on one shelf. 

A small section of orbs lay shining in the shelf under her name. Oaklynn's heart suddenly surged with emotion. She gently reached out her hand to touch an orb. It vibrated slightly and sent goosebumps over her arms. Oaklynn looked through them. All the labels were enchanting. Her first time seeing the palace. Her first time watching horses. The time she'd met Andrea and Casper. And finally... her seventh birthday. 

Clutching the memory to her heart, Oaklynn made her way to the front of the shop. The shopkeeper held out his hand, and she dropped the ortug into it.

Just as she was about to leave, a man rolling a cart covered with a velvet cloth emerged and entered the shop, nodding at the seller. Oaklynn was about to step past the seller when a gust of wind blew the cloth away. Oaklynn gasped at the sight of the memories that lay in the cart. They were fierce, intense, looking like they wanted to explode. But they were bound, restrained. Thick metal chains kept the remembrances prisoners in the orbs that suddenly seemed more vicious than ethereal. 

Oaklynn inadvertently reached out to one of them. It was one of the foggiest, and two chains wrapped it instead of one. It seemed to beckon to her, and the moment when her hand was almost touching it felt like an hour. 

Oaklynn was jerked back into reality when the man roughly jerked her shoulder, making her stumble down the step. 

"What do you think you're doing, grey girl? Get out, and give me that!" The shopkeeper yanked her birthday memory out of her hand.

"No!"

"The Dragonhearts have given us the right to prohibit any customers shall they exhibit unlawful behavior." He snarled. He picked her ortug up from his counter and tossed it to her. 

Oaklynn shoved the money into her satchel and turned away, fuming. She wanted to see both the memories. The chained one too. She couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with her...