Amber

Amber

Brigid gazed down at her reflection in the crystal-clear water of the creek running behind their cottage. It would be frozen solid before long.

She turned her head this way and that, thoroughly inspecting herself for the changes she'd expected to be more obvious. It was her eighteenth birthday, and she was the last of her friends to come of age in time for Samhain.

Brigid looked away from her reflection as she heard her name called from the house. Her mother would be looking for her; she'd been gone too long. Getting to her feet, she brushed the dirt from her coat before nimbly dashing back to the house.

"Where did you go?" her seven-year-old brother Drem asked as she walked through the gate.

"I was just down at the creek."

"How come you're allowed to go to the creek by yourself and I'm not?" he exclaimed, hurling a handful of seed towards the gathering chickens.

"Because I'm an adult now?" she prompted.

"Oh, yeah! Happy Birth Day, Brigid!" he replied with his boyish grin and wrapped his arms around his eldest sister's legs, careful not to drop any of his animals' feed. Brigid tousled her brother's hair fondly. "Mama's made your favourite for breakfast, but it's a surprise," he stated as he pulled away.

Brigid laughed. "Thanks for the heads up, little pup. I'll see you inside."

Delicious smells of her mother's baking wafted from the cottage, and Brigid inhaled deeply as she walked through the door. "Mama?" The kitchen was empty, and she stepped toward the hearth to warm herself in front of the fire.

"Brigid, don't stand so close to the fire in that coat or you'll go up in flames," her mother chastised as she entered the kitchen. Brigid smiled at her mother's dramatic warning but took her coat off all the same.

"Come here, my child. All grown up now," her mother said, trying to hide her emotion by furiously wiping her hands on her apron. Brigid allowed herself to be enveloped in her mother's hug, enjoying feeling like a child again—just for a moment.

***

Despite the delicious breakfast spread out before them, Brigid found herself unable to eat; she was too excited. She looked around at her family. Her Mama, always happiest when they were all gathered together. Her Papa, quiet and hardworking, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth at something one of her siblings had said. Beside him sat her sister, Gilda—fifteen and the studious one in the family. Opposite Brigid sat her brother, Airic—seventeen and very much their father's right-hand man. Next to him sat her other two brothers—Owyn, thirteen, and Drem, each as mischievous as the other—while on the other side of her mother sat her youngest sister, Ula, who was ten going on twenty.

The smile on Brigid's face faded as she felt a pang in her heart. She'd been so excited about finally coming of age in time for Samhain that she'd forgotten the consequences if she were chosen. Yet she'd looked forward to this moment for as long as she could remember; she'd watched each year as a girl from their village was selected and bestowed with the honour of priestess. It was a coveted role to serve alongside the gods and guide and protect the village for all eternity. She'd also witnessed the prestige that befell the chosen one's family and the opportunities that opened to them.

If she were selected, her father would be granted a seat on the village council, her mother given an elite mentor—a priceless resource in the raising of the village children. Her siblings would be offered auspicious marriages, for families were keen to be associated with the family of a chosen one. The possibilities were endless. While Brigid wasn't entirely certain what her future as a priestess would entail—it was a secret practice, after all—she was certain she could want nothing more in her future.