The Forgotten Ones

Prologue

☽

The wind whispers as her eyes darts upwards, towards the vast blue, lips tugged in a gentle smile—almost invisible. Her hair cascades down her back, the icy wind swaying it away every few seconds.

It's cold. She thinks, bumps appearing on her pale, milky skin, nothing to cover her from the cold except a thin scarf—her mother's—rolled around her neck.Yet her smile grows wider. 

She watches as silvery flakes drift down—soft, gentle, almost, maybe even softer than her mother's kiss—finding a place to rest, to cover the already blanketed backyard in its pristine glory.

The snow is akin to the colour of her hair, pale white. Is it why her heart perceives the white flakes  with a fondness she has never been aware of? It is her first time watching the snow covered land, the window in her tower not being enough to scour through the vast horizon, not enough to feel the biting, stinging coldness against her bare arms and feet, her prison not enough to reach out and touch the powdery, lush, lain blanket of snow.

It's cold, but the feeling of freedom overrules it. Even if it was just for a short while.

At just 8 years old, Thea knows that she, without a doubt, has been forbidden to be outside at the moment. Her chamber on the tower is her prison, and despite no words being spoken, she understands the disdain, the admonition of a fessible aberration, when the guards and even her caretaker, Eva, peers at her fragile frame. But she had always longed for freedom when her eyes gazed over the horizon from her closed window, when she witnessed the little birds flying with no restraints—she wished she could fly as well.

But wishes and hopes were redundant, notably if it was Thea Nephele, a princess who was cursed since birth, an abomination, a nuisance and a shame to the royal blood of Ansan—where magic behooved a commodity of abhorrence, a palpable vexation.

Hence, a prison for a home, memories of a fading mother in her mind, Thea survived until she was 8–the first time she is able to taste freedom, for a brief moment. She is not sure when this privilege will come knocking at her door again. It is only fair that she cherishes it now, in the present, the thoughts of punishment pushed for later.

Her bare feet finally moves forward, taking her towards the start of a vast forest. She always did wonder what lies amidst the tall trees, her curious mind creating tales of animal companions, magic and beasts that would take her away from her cage. So her tiny, brave, heart trembles in sheer trepidation, a blend of turmoil and warmth while facing the tall trees that almost looked like it will consume her whole. She almost wished it did, nevertheless, it is a fleeting thought.

She stops, her shallow breaths forming a swirl of fog before vanishing into the air. Fascinating. A sudden whimper grabs her attention and she zeroes in on a bush, more specifically, behind it. Her feet treads through the snow, towards the source of the whimpers which are getting loud now. Slowly, she peers over the bush and her big eyes grow even wider, her heart thumps even more loudly and a soft gasp leaves her dry lips.

It's a puppy! Or, atleast, that's what she thinks it is.

Black silky fur covered in remnants of the white fallen snow, eyes so blue, Thea feels hypnotised for some reason. It seems like it's injured, a spot of red on the snow indicating the source. The puppy seems wary but also tired enough to run away from the stranger, teeth baring, snarling, in a meek attempt to protect itself.

"I won't hurt you." Thea says, kneeling on the ground, the cold snow seeping through the fabric of her thin dress. She ignores the numbness that overcomes again.

The puppy stares at her, finally calm but still hesitant. It's a human, a stranger. Humans are cruel at times and maybe the puppy lived long to know the repercussions of trusting anyone who is human.

"I won't hurt you." Thea repeats again and the warmth that rolls off of her, the gentleness and slight curiosity in her eyes captures the puppy's attention just the same. It whimpers, in pain and a want of comfort and Thea gently inspects the wound on its leg—a deep gash, bleeding profusely.

Magic is forbidden in Ansan, Thea knows that, but it's compassion and a want to help that fills her core. Gently, she takes the puppy's leg in her hands and swirls her hand over the wound. A shimmering blue radiates around her hands and the puppy's leg, the wound already healing until it's not at all there anymore.

"There. Feel better?" 8 year old Thea asks with her own kind of amazement swirling in her irises, like she herself cannot believe she did what she did.

The puppy stands up abruptly, the pain no more there, and as if testing, it moves in circles, yelping happily when it realises the human helped with its wound.

"You look happy." Thea comments, treading her fingers amidst soft fur as the puppy leans in and licks her cheeks, a form of gratitude.

Thea giggles, feeling warm in that cold winter day.

"Princess Thea!"

The girl gasps at the sudden, booming voice and a certain kind of dread fills in her, knowing what is to come afterward. She looks at the puppy who's staring at her with it's blue eyes and so she smiles.

"I hope you can get back to your family." A pat on its head. "I'll have to go to mine."

It's sad, the way she looks when she speaks it. Like she doesn't want to go back but had no other choice, a certain kind of sadness that washes over like it's meant to be there, a wistful recurrence.

The puppy watches the human walk away, steps slow and wavering—is it the cold?—white hair following her like the snow, stance small yet strong.

It stares for a while until another howl follows and it turns around without much of a second glance, sprinting to where it is supposed to go, leaving a grateful heart behind. Maybe a time will come when it extends what is owed. But for now, it's just gratefulness in return for a magic that helped.