The sun was low and the sky was adorned with a delicate mix of blue and yellow. Nature's artist painted its very own watercolour of a peaceful day. A gentle breeze brushed across Amber's cheek, and played with the ends of her long, curly, red hair. It hung loosely over her shoulders and the warm colour stood out against her black school sweater.

These days she tried her hardest to find excuses to postpone going home. She'd go to friends' houses, go and hang out in town, by the local lake, anywhere but the flat. For even though her parents made up after their disagreement, she couldn't help but notice the change in the atmosphere at home, and indeed her mum. Astrid now moped about at war with herself and Amber no longer knew how to reach her.

She dragged her feet. She could see the flat building edging closer and closer. When she reached the outer door, a sigh left her as her hand rummaged inside her school bag for her keys. She unlocked the door and made her way to the flat.

The predicted silence within her home struck her in the heart. She missed the laughter that it once had. She was so hopeful that once Astrid's memories came back, an invisible weight would've been lifted from her shoulders, instead many more seemed to get piled on.

Amber quietly placed her bag down by the door and tip-toed through to the kitchen, where Astrid was busy cooking dinner.

"Hi mum," Amber greeted her mother sombrely.

"Oh, Amber! I didn't know you'd be back for dinner," Astrid said with a smile, though happiness did not reach her eyes. "Don't worry though, there should be plenty."

"Okay, thank you, Mum."

Astrid turned from the stove and looked at her daughter. The look she found on Amber's face caused worry to plague her mind.

"Is everything alright, Amber?"

"Yeah, fine." Amber turned to leave but stopped when she heard her mother sigh.

"No, Amber, I can see things are not fine. What's wrong?"

"I," Amber began, but shook her head. "I don't know…"

"Please tell me. Is it me? Have I upset you?"

"No, Mum. You haven't upset me… Just everything. Everything is strange now. I thought, once you could remember what happened to you, things would be better… But…" Amber bowed her head as the words to communicate any further thoughts escaped her mind. A tear crawled down her rose coloured cheek.

"Oh, my Amber, don't cry."

Amber felt Astrid's arms wrap around her.

"What happened?" She heard True ask.

She glanced towards the open kitchen door and saw him standing there. His face dropped at the sight of her.

"We need to talk. All of us," said Astrid, firmly. "We need to clear the air once and for all."

Once the three finished their dinner - Astrid's homemade lasagne and salad. They sat tentatively around the kitchen table. They looked at one another in awkward silence, waiting for somebody to talk.

Eventually, Amber decided to be the one to cut the tension.

"What were you two arguing about anyway?" she asked, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

True and Astrid looked at each other. They both felt the pressure building up between them.

"Well, erm, we - your mum and I, erm…"

"Your dad and I had a disagreement about your great aunt Luchinda."

"I keep hearing that name…" Amber said, wanting more of an explanation.

"Yes, Aunt Luchinda played a big part in everything that's happened to us," Astrid continued.

"And she's trying to get back in touch," True added, before glancing towards his wife, to make sure that he made the right decision in bringing that up. The look Astrid gave back made him quickly regret thinking so.

"Luchinda is my aunt, James' sister."

"So a Fiosolim?" Amber queried, making her father's eyes light up with pride. Her keenness to learn about Natanstrellean family names reminded him of Astrid back in the days of Strelle Forest.

"Yes, a Fiosolim, the family who hear from Illuminare-Trabem himself, apparently!" Astrid said, rolling her eyes.

True noticed the scepticism within Astrid's voice and it grated at his mind.

"Please, Astrid, I thought we were past this."

Astrid shrugged. She did not allow her gaze to leave the table, as her shoulders slumped in exasperation.

"Astrid, I told you. The only Fiosolim I do trust is Luchinda," True explained again. "And your father, of course," he quickly added - to be safe.

"I know. I just. I still don't fully understand how you can trust her. I mean she was taught by her father wasn't she? The same one who taught Jeremai - the very one who betrayed my father to the authorities." Astrid didn't hold back. It seemed as though she forgot Amber was sitting right there, listening to every word.

"Erm, didn't you trust Luchinda yourself, Mum? When she taught you to paint?" Amber interjected. This took Astrid aback. Her spine stiffened before she stumbled through her answer.

"Well, yes. I never said I was not also persuaded by her. Recent discoveries have opened my eyes to her dishonesty. I just don't know why your father doesn't see it." True opened his mouth to defend himself, but Astrid managed to add something else before he could say a word. "I know that you have always been super fascinated with that lot. I remember, you said so, to Naomi and I, by our fireplace."

"Alright! Look. Just because I had an interest in them as a child does not mean I am willing to blindly follow them. I am capable of seeing fault in them. They are not Illuminare-Trabem, they are just people, like you and I!" True declared, his frustration changing the speed of his words.

"True, I…" Astrid's bottom lip quivered as the awkwardness gathered around the three of them.

Amber sat in silence, taking in all that was said. She didn't dare make another sound.

"Listen, Astrid. I never told you this, but my mind was made up about the Fiosolim before I even met you. Before I saw you even." True took a deep breath, then continued. "My mother. Your grandmother, Amber. She was an unwanted child. My grandfather wanted a son and my mother was a second daughter born to my grandmother who died in child-birth."

"Oh, that's terrible," Astrid interrupted in a horrified whisper.

"Yes. My grandfather treated my mother as nothing more than a mistake, sometimes even a murderer. Her sister, Breagha and my father were the only people who ever gave her a chance. It was thanks to my aunt that she survived her childhood at all. It was her who named my mother, Curae. It was her who truly brought my mother up. Despite all of this she still felt the sting of her father's hatred, of her uncles' disdain, of pointed fingers, of uttered rumour. So naturally when she caught wind of the prophecy. A prophecy about a baby girl who was to be seen as evil, moved her to tears. And when she heard of your birth, Astrid, she never stopped worrying about you."

Astrid was shocked into an open-mouthed silence as True carried on with his story.

Ferrae (Curae) stood in her spot by her living room window with a steaming mug of Dormi-root tea. She glanced in a haze out to the field that stretched beyond the fence that marked the edge of her garden. Her face displayed a look of despair. That look, was seen there since she found out that her husband, Dìl-Ferrum, died fighting two years previously.

Her heart seemed to not want to mend. She thought about all that he missed and all that he would miss. What really hit her hard was not seeing the proud look on his face when her eldest son, Ferrum, received his light orb a year ago. She now had to make plans for his future without her husband's guidance and such a thing seemed so daunting.

Malek, her youngest son, pulled at her flowing skirt as she stood, statue still, sipping slowly at her tea.

"Mum, Mum, what are you looking at, Mum?" his small voice chimed by her hip.

"Hmm?" she hummed, lost in a day dream. She then tore her eyes away from the horizon and looked down to the small mousey-brown haired boy, looking up at her. Her heart thumped as she saw his curiosity gleam inside his innocent, hazel eyes. "Oh nothing, my love. I was just thinking."

"Oh, are you sad, Mum?" Malek observed with worry colouring his tiny face.

"Oh no, I'm not sad." Ferrae placed her mug on the windowsill and reached her arms down to her little boy. He lifted his hands in response and she scooped him up in a warm embrace, then balanced him on her hip. "I was just thinking about this year's harvest, that's all. I think we will have a mighty fine crop. Don't you?"

"Yes!" Malek said with a wide grin on his face.

Ferrae and her son stayed in that peaceful place, enjoying each other's warmth and the bright colours of a sunny, Natanstrellean morning. Malek's young mind, filled with dreams of magic and future endeavours. Ferrae tried to fight against her thoughts that relentlessly clouded with the darkness in the world that often vexed her.

"Mum. A message," her eldest son's voice dragged her from her mind's black mist.

"Oh, Ferrum, dear, I didn't even hear the door."

"That's alright mum, I got it. Here." Her six year old, red-haired boy held out his hand with the letter. The letter had a eight-pointed star within a neat circle stamped on the front in red ink; this signified that it was a message going around every household. It was a message that contained information that was seen by higher ups to be very important.

Ferrae's eyes widened as they took in the red stamp. She lowered Malek down and let him run off to find a toy to play with, then ripped the envelope open.

To the Head of the Household,

This is a letter to inform you of the whereabouts of the child of which you all have been warned about.
As you know she was born under a red moon and you have been warned to always be aware of her violet eyes.
I am glad to inform you that you can go about your day without such a worry to constantly lurk in your mind. For the child has this very week been officially enrolled within the Emerald Army - where she can be under surveillance by the very best trained within controlling Noir forces.

Thank you for your good faith,
May Illuminare-Trabem bless your house.

Signed: King Lux

"That poor child…" Ferrae uttered to herself as she placed the letter down on the windowsill. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head at the injustice that she saw in the whole situation.

"What did it say, Mum?" Ferrum asked, noticing the anger that knitted his mother's brow.

"The little girl, you know, the one everyone has been talking about..."

"The baby who the Fiosolim saw in the smoke?" The dreamy way that Ferrum uttered the seer family name, sparked a flame within Ferrae that made her turn to look at him.

"Ferrum. Listen. This is important." Ferrae knelt down to her son's level and made sure she held his attention for what she had to say. "The Fiosolim cannot be trusted. I am sorry, I know you've always wanted to meet them. But you mustn't, do you understand?"

A sense of disappointment raked at Ferrum's chest.

"The prophecy about the child, the little girl. It is a lie. I feel it in my bones. It is a lie. It is a shameful lie that is hurting a young girl. A girl, like me, like your aunt Breagha, like your cousin. They're telling us to watch out for her violet eyes, to shun her, to keep her out. This is wrong."

A tear came to the boy's eye, as what his mother was telling him was beginning to sink in. "A girl, like cousin Reign?" he asked in a shaky voice.

"Yes, they were born the same year."

"But Reign is so small."

"As is the girl. Three and they've enrolled her into the Emeralds."

Ferrum gulped and looked up at his mother, who now was staring past him. Her mind transported to her own lonely childhood. She then continued her rant.

"Only three and the only girl to ever be within the ranks. With boys and leaders who would've been told to treat her like an outsider." She let out a long trembling breath. "How is she to cope?"

"Mum?" Ferrum tried to get his mum to look at him again. It took a few seconds and a few slow blinks before her eyes finally met his.

"Would the girl be okay if she had one friend?" he asked in a voice beyond his young years.

"Yes. I do believe she would have a chance, but with your father gone I don't know who would have such a heart," Ferrae answered him, defeated.

"I do," Ferrum said, puffing his small chest out. "Mum, when I am big enough, I'll join the Emeralds. I'll find the girl and I'll be her friend!"

Ferrae was shocked into silence. Tears fell from her eyes as her courageous boy's words squeezed her heart. She threw her arms around her son and embraced him with a deep sense of pride.

"You joined the Emerald Army, for me?" Astrid asked True, breaking the silence that swooped in once he came to the end of his story. She never thought she could love him more than she already did. Nor did she think that he could surprise her anymore than he already had.

"Yes, Mother told me about the little girl who was the same age as my baby cousin and it broke my heart," True clarified with a tiny, embarrassed smile.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It never came up."

Astrid shook her head in utter disbelief. "You made up your mind about me before you even met me…"

"Isn't that what you said about the Fiosolim?" True responded with a cheeky smirk.

"It's not the same and you know it!" Astrid whispered into his ear as she leaned in to kiss him tenderly on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you too, my Astrid."

"You were six?" Amber asked, interrupting the moment between her parents.

"Yes."

"Six?" Amber's mind went back to the six year olds she had previously encountered at the home. None of which seemed capable of thinking about anything but their favourite toys or games. Therefore, learning about how her father was at six within the story, seemed utterly baffling.

All of Amber's thoughts managed to display themselves clearly on her confused face.

"Your father is a rare find, Amber," Astrid said, not able to wipe off her wide smile. "He made sure to look for me and he found me. Twice!"

True hugged his arm around Astrid's shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Mum was right about you." True's warm words embraced his wife's closest ear. "You needed, and deserved a friend."

"Speaking about friends… Don't you think it's about time we gave James a call?" Amber asked suddenly. Her words managed to bring her parents out of their dream and back to reality.

After a moment, Astrid nodded her head. "Yes, you're right, Amber. I've been putting everything off for far too long. I'll call James and arrange something."

True and Amber shared a triumphant smile across the table as Astrid began to clear the used crockery away. They both knew that Astrid agreeing to seeing James was a positive step out of her recently, acquired stubbornness.