NEVEN

A song of ice and snow raised above the blizzard to join the scattering of red, blue, and green lights. Neven walked along with his school group, keeping his voice lowered.

Every Blizzard Night, all Avaerilian's came together to sing their song. Adults passed stories and sung in the crystal cathedral. Neven moved along the streets, poking people's doors with an icy stick to ward off vengeful spirits and Derelict formations. He hummed the tune of Evyriaz, the song of the unbreakable spirit, placing a bundle of snowrose seeds in the mailboxes of his neighbours.

A promise of life in the dark.

Neven adjusted his fur cap, the fuzz within warming and tickling cheeks and warmed his downy feathers. He grabbed its ears, pulling it down harder by the strings. His fellow classmates walked past him, humming and singing.

Their Magistera held the lamp for them to gather around, a signal of warmth in the cold.

"Lotayrin," she called to him. "Try and keep up with us. You wouldn't want to get lost in the mountains."

"I'm coming." He hopped off the step and left the seeds of life behind.

Everyone's voices sung. He gently added to the chorus of the back. Lights cast the spires in twisting shadows of colours across their mountainous home. A patrol of Blizzard Sentinels headed past them, carrying their own fiery lamps above their heads.

A dream.

Neven couldn't stop himself raising his voice higher, in hopes that the sentinels against the endless night would notice him.

Someday, they would.

Someday, he'd be a Blizzard Sentinel.

Just like his ancestor, Atoran Lotayrin.

Once they finished the last street, the kids scattered in laughter and their own songs among the small field of snowroses behind their massive wall of colonnades, to rejoin their parents. Neven drifted across the marble, peering back at his Magistera for guidance.

"Neven," Father's voice called to him.

He whipped around and raced for him. He knelt down, catching him into a hug. Mother moved to hug him as well, her blizzard bonnet protecting her pale-blonde Navee loops from fraying cold.

"What?" Neven asked. "Mom, I thought you were with Miss Traye."

"I was." Mother smiled, brushing her hand through his hair. "You want to come meet your new neighbour?"

He bounced in place, and Father released them to watch over the kids waiting for their parents, and he followed Mother back towards their house. A noble villa. Mother led him past it, down the small alleyway their villa shielded.

"You can slow down." Mother laughed behind him. "They're not going anywhere, Snowflake."

Neven beamed, but heavy shadows rested under her sapphire eyes. Ignoring it, he grabbed her arm when she caught up.

"Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?" Neven asked.

"You have to be quiet."

"Why? Is the baby trying to sleep?"

Mother laughed, and the sound never failed to comfort him in the dark of the blizzard. It silenced the sounds of the ice beasts outside the towering walls which kept them from the growing frostlands. "I'll explain when you're older."

The villa shadowed the safe house of the Trayes. Neven peeked around the marble pillars, deeper into the private estate. Why do they have to live in such a small space? Isn't the Traye villa in Irimount... bigger than ours?

Mother slid open the door, and the breeze followed them in. "Taliyah?"

Neven slipped off his boots in the shoe pit, setting them off to the side and out of the way underneath the fur racks. He ascended the tiny steps to the only floor of the sanctuary, emptied out of Father's storage and piles of books. In one corner, a crib far away from any windows, where the back door opened up into a quiet garden. He sidled past Mother.

Lady Traye sat on the couch with a swaddled shape in her arms. She smiled up at them, but the same heaviness which plagued Mother haunted her grey eyes as her elegant pale feathers shivered with the wind they brought. "Italma, Neven," she said. "I heard you singing in the streets. Your voice and inner song are both lovely."

Neven jumped, and pressed his gloved hands against his warm cheeks. "Mother's better..."

"Where's Ikarun?" Mother questioned. "I thought he'd be here."

Lady Traye tucked closer against the swaddled bundle of furs. "He should be arriving soon. We were... expecting a guest."

Mother frowned, then urged Neven forward to sit beside Lady Traye on the couch. He leaned forward to examine the baby, who blinked at him. Overwhelmed by sudden anxiety, he drew back and hugged himself. What if the baby hates me? He stopped, then hit himself internally. Really? 'What if the baby hates me?' It's a baby.

Neven peeked into the bundle again, and violet hues stared up at him.

"What's his name?" Neven asked.

Love filled Lady Traye's grays as she brushed strands of white hair. "His name is Yuven. Do you want to hold him?"

"O-Oh. If that's alright!"

Yuven babbled in complaint when placed in his arms. Mother reached forward to guide his arms to hold Yuven.

"Hold him tight, be careful with his ears. His feathers are very sensitive," Mother instructed. "Taliyah, who's the guest you two were expecting?"

Lady Traye opened her mouth to answer, but jumped when a pair of footsteps sounded from the back door path. Neven clutched Yuven close, where his own feathers shuddered at the tension in the air.

"Yoko, you're impossible," Prince Traye grunted. Neven relaxed when Lady Traye's and Mother's feathers smoothed out from their previous shivered state. "I thought you'd be less clumsy after all this time."

"I'm full of surprises," a jovial song answered.

Mother chuckled when two men crawled through the back way, one donned in the familiar of the blizzard sentinel, though wrapped in a cloak. Prince Traye stopped at the doorway. "Italma," he said, the violets he shared with his son widening. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, I have to check and make sure Yuven is healthy," she teased, then tipped her head as another shape slipped past Prince Traye with another smile. "And look who's back home after all this time. It's good to see you, Yoko."

The Sentinel straightened themself out and drew their cloak down from their face. Silver-white feathers stretched past their silver hair as they rubbed the back of their neck. "Here I was expecting a chillier welcome." He turned to Lady Traye and him, but bowed his head instead of approaching. "Would that I have come sooner, but... I had a couple of things I had to take care of."

Prince Traye folded his arms. "You're telling me?"

The silver-haired Sentinel twisted back. "You don't have to worry, Ikarun, no one knows I'm here."

"I will worry because the fact that no one knows you're here worries me," Ikarun whispered. "You're playing a dangerous game, Yoko. If someone had intercepted that letter—"

Yoko blinked at Ikarun. "I thought you were done fretting over me — at least, from our last conversation."

Ikarun held his ground. "You're my little brother. You cause me frustration, but it is what it is... and here's not the place to talk about it." He waved his arms at the full room. "Neven," he said with a returning smile while his own long, white feathers twitched. "You've gotten taller since the last I saw you."

"Thanks!" Neven returned Yuven to Lady Traye at her motioning hands. He got up and returned to Mother's side, in her shadow while Yoko eyed Ikarun with an unspoken question. Ikarun shrugged his shoulders with a nod at Lady Traye.

"My lady," Yoko said with another bow. "May I see him?"

Uncertainty flashed through Lady Traye's eyes, but she gave the Sentinel a weary smile. "Of course, Yoko, were that you could meet your nephew in better times..."

"Family squabbles won't stop me," Yokonei said and approached. Lady Traye held out Yuven, who huffed and squirmed in his fur bundle. "He's quite active. Has his magick revealed itself yet?" He turned to Ikarun with a curious tilt to his head.

His magick?

"No... but it's only a matter of time," Ikarun said as his feathers shivered in agitation. Yoko wiggled his finger in front of Yuven, who focused on it. "Yoko..."

"Hm?" Yoko gently poked Yuven's nose, who tried to echo his motion. "Here, I brought a gift for him." He sat on the couch, then shuffled with his cloak and brought out a wyvern-shaped stuffy, fluffy and full of stuffing. Ikarun's previous tension slacked as he stared, wide-eyed at the stuffy.

"Now where in the Infern—" He stopped and glanced at Mother and himself before sucking in his cheeks. "It looks brand new, Yoko."

"I may have hurt myself a couple times trying to fix it, but I did it," Yoko said with a smile. "It does look brand new, doesn't it? It was so beat up before, what did you do to it, mangle it?"

Ikarun's face reddened. "You're the one who would play tug of war with it when you were a babe."

"As far as I remember, it was like that," Yoko said and held it to Yuven, who reached out his hands to grasp the stuffy. "Were that I could give him a better gift."

"It's lovely," Lady Traye whispered. "Thank you."

Yuven cooed and clung onto the stuffy, and Yoko passed Yuven back to Lady Traye and stood up. "I'm sorry for intruding further, Ika," he said with a smile. "I appreciate this chance."

Neven frowned when Mother shook her head.

"Yoko, we need to talk," Ikarun said as Yoko adjusted his cloak and headed for the back door.

Neven jumped when Mother clasped his arm and guided him back to the door, but Ikarun said, "I trust all of you, you don't have to leave. Besides, can't exactly run away if there's more than one person."

Mother huffed out a breath, and Neven faced the freezing atmosphere. Ikarun stared down Yoko, who held the door.

"What do you want to discuss?"

"Have you been in contact with our family?"

"No?"

Ikarun twitched. "Have you... told anyone?"

"No," Yoko's answer came out firm. "I wouldn't do that to you, Ika."

Ikarun shook his head. "Yet you do it to yourself? You can't ignore the signs of what's happening." Ikarun reached forward to grip Yoko's scaled armor. "Yoko, why don't you settle down? Keep your head down? It's getting dangerous to have our name. You work under..."

Yoko frowned at Ikarun. "I can't."

Ikarun's feathers stiffened. "Why not?"

Yoko switched his attention to Lady Traye, who held Yuven tight against her chest. His silver-white feathers loosened against his ears as he drew out of Ikarun's grip. "It'll be fine," he said. "You're probably in more danger than I am. Besides... we both have something we need to protect, don't we?"

It fell silent.

Ikarun clenched his fists and drew away from Yoko without another word. He sat beside Lady Traye as Yoko bowed his head, and left them behind.

Something we need to protect...