The King's orders are simple: Anyone who aids or is established as Supernaturals must die.
Ember Bright, an exceptionally powerful magic user born to Human parents, only had one goal---to survive. That is until she finds herself responsible for he...
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Song: Start A War, Klergy and Valarie Broussard. Content Warnings: Strong language. ◃───────────▹
When Ember was a little girl, she always ran to her mother for help. Whether it be a scraped knee or an argument with a friend, she ran to her. Once Ember had been bitten by a snake while playing in the garden. She'd gone to her mother distraught, telling her they should kill the snake. It was dangerous, after all, it could've poisoned her. Daphne asked to see the snake, and her daughter obliged. Nestled in the ruffles of cabbage, resting in the shade, was a small green snake. Daphne had picked the reptile up by its tail, proclaiming it not to be venomous. Ember insisted they kill the creature before it bit another.
Nonsense, Daphne had told her. You only frightened him. That is why he bit you.
The woman tends to her rose bushes, an exhibition of red, yellow, and pink. She sits on her knees, her emerald green dress collecting dirt and leaves on its skirt. Her sable hair is pulled back haphazardly and her skin is beaded with sweat.
"Mother," Ember rounds the corner into the back garden, barreling through the gate.
Daphne stands abruptly. "What's the matter?" her face is heavy with worry.
Ember's face is pale and her lips are a blueish tint. With a shaky hand, Ember waves the note in her face. She tries to speak, but her words come as breathless gasps.
Her mother pries the paper from her fingers. Smoothing it out, Daphne reads it carefully. She reads it over and over, the words never evading her but unregistered nonetheless. Ember's breathing grows rapid and she wheezes. Daphne crumples the note, picking up the girl's face in her hands.
"Listen carefully. You must not panic," Daphne's brown eyes are cold and emotionless.
"But I—"
"You are afraid," the woman says. "I will protect you."
She grabs Ember's wrist, tugging her along the path away from their house. The girl pulls back.
"We should tell Father–"
"Don't," Daphne snaps, her gaze hard. She speaks with such conviction that it startles Ember; but she has never questioned her mother before, and she wasn't bound to start today. "We must find Cedric,"
"Tower Five."
Daphne nods. They sprint down the hill.
Every blade of grass that touches Ember's skin burns, each song of a bird hurts her ears. Goosebumps decorate her skin, raising her hair on its end. She can barely hear the greetings of village people as her mother wade through them hand-in-hand. She squeezes her hand anxiously. Daphne returns the gesture reassuringly.
Tower Five is the biggest and newest tower, closest to the agricultural sector and a short walk away from the Clarke residence. It'd been Cedric's preferred meeting ground since he'd been sworn in as Captain a decade ago. If he wasn't patrolling the village perimeter or training new Guards in the field behind his house, Cedric was bound to be in the tower.
