Jordan's POV

     Water dripped into the bucket in a steady rhythm as the smell of fresh tilapia filled the air. When I scooted the cutting board aside to properly move the fish, the bucket slid over, causing the water to drip on the board. I sighed and moved the bucket back into its place. It was almost halfway full, and I had only emptied it out a couple hours ago. The spring brought many rains; our poor house paid for that problem with each passing day. It didn't matter though; I was happy here.

     My cutting knife, despite being dull, didn't have many problems slicing up the fish. I laid the strips in a bowl of prepared spices. This would give it more flavor than what the murky Songdragon Lake wanted its fish to taste like. I hummed as I placed the fish in the oven and finished cleaning dirty dishes from breakfast. As the heavy aroma of tilapia filled the air, I felt something inside of me stir. I placed a hand on my bulging stomach and smiled.

     "You love the smell of dinner."

     It wasn't a question; it was a fact. The baby inside me almost never stirred unless it sensed food was coming. I laughed as an outline of a small hand appeared. The baby was ready to eat.

     "Not yet, dearest." I touched the outline where the baby was pushing with my fingertips. "It's not done cooking."

     This seemed to quiet it down. I know it couldn't hear me, but it felt good to talk to it. There had been many cases of stillborns recently, and all the local physicians weren't very confident my child would make it through birth. I didn't believe them, because my own mother was an herbalist and was often wrong about babies. Carlos said he thought the baby would come out just fine, and I trusted him more than anyone.

     The back door opened, bringing a heavy odor of fish in with the air. I didn't wince at the smell; I was used to it after years of being a fisherman's wife. Carlos smiled at me as he crossed into the bedroom to change. Even though I continuously told him I didn't care about the smell, he always insisted on changing into something nicer for dinner. It didn't matter if he put on a new set of clothes or not, the house still stunk of fish. One might think I'd be tired of fish after being around it and consuming so much, but strangely enough it never grew unlikable. Fish was a staple in our lives; without it we'd surely starve.

     A certain crispness in the air alerted my senses that the fish was nearly done. I quickly finished drying the dishes and chopped up a cucumber to eat alongside the tilapia. I slid the fish out of the oven and onto the plates. Just as I had hoped, the spices had formed a nice crust around the surface area. It smelled delicious.

     From the other room, the sound of a bucket tipping over clanged. Carlos let out a yelp, and I knew he had inevitably gotten water all over something. I hurried into the bedroom to see the water soaking into the wooden floorboards. Carlos grimaced as he struggled to wipe up the remainder of the liquid. I kneeled down, handing him some frayed towels I had grabbed from the kitchen.

     "That's my third time this week." His voice was gruff with frustration.

     "I spilled plenty of buckets throughout the years." I tried to laugh it off. "Let's just say you're hydrating the house."

     His laugh was forced. I knew we were thinking the same thing, whether we liked to admit it or not. We were poor. Our house was on the verge of falling apart. Even though he tried to hide it, Carlos really didn't like the life we could afford. He wanted better for me, and for our baby. He didn't think of himself. Sadly, it was hard to climb the social ladder in this society. This was the only life he had known, and it would be the only life our children would know after us. We couldn't do any better.

     I had heard the rumors surrounding Carlos after we were married. Apparently, he was given the chance at an advantageous match where he could pull himself out of the social class he was stuck in. He had denied it and asked me to marry him instead. It was a noble gesture; I don't think either of us regretted it. His status in life was better than the fear I lived in across the lake and we were both happy together. Life just had to lived a bit simpler than both of us would have liked.

     I never thought much of how we lived until the baby came along. I knew Carlos' meager sum could support two people, but three? I had brought up this concern long before the baby even came along, but Carlos had been insistent we could support it. I loved the idea of being a mother, even if it meant giving up a few meals so the child could eat. Carlos said it would be hard to support it the first few years, but once it could help him out on the boats, we could make more money to bring life back to normal. As I said before, I trusted him more than anyone, so I agreed to his plan. I can still remember his excitement when I confirmed the pregnancy. He didn't just want the baby to have another worker, he wanted the baby to have another member of the family.

     When we had finished wiping up the mess, we returned to eat the still warm dinner in the kitchen. Carlos filled the silence with stories about the market. Prices were dropping due the excess of supplies coming from the Middle City, so we might be able to afford some honey soon. I told him that our sick neighbor was getting along better and that the baby was as healthy as ever. It may have just been the two of us, but we made things work.

     When the sun started to fall in the sky, I went outside to hang up the last of our laundry. The curfew bells wouldn't ring for at least half an hour, so I had time to finish up these chores.

     I could hear the Songdragons singing from beneath the waters. Soon, they'd fly out from beneath the lake and patrol the mountains around us. My mind latched onto their gentle tones, immediately starting to dissect each note. They were singing of blooming flowers and the coming of new life.

     An itch in my throat reminded me that I wanted to sing back to them—to call to the dragons—but I pursed my lips. The power that allowed me to communicate with them needed to stay dormant for now. Once upon a time I had used it to befriend the creatures, but everyone on this side of the lake hated the dragons. If any Songdragon flew too close to the city, they would surely be shot by the guards.

     When I had lived on the other side of the lake with my mother, she hadn't been afraid to sing. That decision had cost her everything. Because of her natural vocal abilities and skills with herbs, she was condemned as a witch and killed. I had fled in terror that they would do the same to me. Now, I was here. I was safe and known only as Carlos' wife, yet I constantly yearned to let my voice free. Mother said that was the burden of the power, the more you suppressed it the harder to suppress it would become.

     As I came back inside to bid my husband goodnight, a knock sounded at the door. I tensed as I hesitantly made my way over to it. The curfew bells hadn't sounded, so that couldn't be the reason we were being disturbed. I hoped the guards weren't going to be the faces I saw when I opened the door. Finding the city's guards at your door was never a good thing.

     When I finally peeked outside, no one was there. I stepped out on the front porch and looked around, but my attempts to find the knocker were useless. Perhaps one of the village kids had decided to prank us.

     On my way back inside, I stepped on something that crinkled like paper. I peered down to see an envelope beneath my feet. Gently unfolding the paper, I squinted at the contents in the dying light.

     I nearly tripped over the door trying to scramble back inside.

     "Carlos!" I worriedly called, feeling the baby stir once again. This time, however, there was no food.

     "Carlos!" I sunk to the floor, feeling too dazed to go another step.

     He burst out of the house's only other room and knelt at my side.

     "Jordan?"

     I sunk against his steady presence, too shocked to speak.

     "Jordan, is it the baby?"

     Feeling numb, I shook my head and handed him the letter.

     His blue eyes flashed as he read the words. He said the words aloud, just as he always did when translating Ninjargon.

     "A daughter born to the Eternal Song

     A flash across the sky will signal the beginning of night.

     She shall be sacrificed by loyalty

     To save this world's son of Oni and Light."

     Carlos turned to me, an angry fear pulsing throughout him. "Who gave this to you?"

     I was shaking now. Carlos put an arm around my back to steady me. "I don't... I don't know... I found it on the doorstep... no one was there..."

     He was silent, his jaw clenching an unclenching as he processed the information.

     "Carlos... do you think the message is talking about our baby?" I touched my belly.

     He pursed his lips. "We don't even know if the baby is a boy or girl. How could this writer know?"

     I nodded, taking deep breaths to steady myself.

     "If the child is a girl, then we will take caution of what the letter says. If not, then we know it was some prank."

     I leaned into his steady presence. He put his head on mine; blonde hair mixed with black. "If the baby is a girl, then we will protect her from this terrible prophecy. We will protect her from this destiny."

     I nodded at his soothing tone. It didn't matter what the letter said. Our child would lead a steady life. We would take care of it. Quietly, Carlos released the papers, closed the door as the curfew bells rung, and helped me to my feet.

     We didn't see the gleaming E on the front of the envelope. Even when we saw it later, we didn't know what it meant. If only the writer had delivered the letter himself. Maybe things would have gone differently.

Finis.