ALIENA

The warmth of my father's castle at the west edge of the White City barely touched my skin before I was pulling on a robe and heading out into the hall in search of my family. "Aliena!" Nania called after me. "Aliena, you should soak in the hotsprings first to get the chill off your skin."

"I need to tell them about the vision."

"It can wait long enough for you to warm yourself, surly."

"No." I said. "It can't."

The ride home on the sleigh --- such a short trip on our way out --- had taken forever on our return. I had woken in the night hearing the storm flow around our shelter and went into a near panic with the need to return. I was unable to be sure on why, but I felt we were running out of time.

Against Nania's protests, we left the shelter where it was and instructed the dogs to return us home safely. Finally, we had arrived in the early morn, only to find the gates of the city blocked by several feet of snow. It took nearly two hours to be lifted by a pully into the city, and all morning to manoeuvre through the high snowdrifts in the streets to reach the castle. Now, it was nearing supper and the sense of urgency to run, run, run was still strong.

"Jenna!" I caught sight of the laundry maid. She stopped and turned with a smile as I approached.

"You've returned early, Princess."

"Do you know where my family is?"

She lost her smile to concern but answered. "I'm not sure of Queen Liana, but King Aaryn is helping thaw the city streets I believe."

"My brother then?"

"Prince Aaren is with the animals below. The cubs, last I checked."

"Thank you, Jenna." I said with feeling and headed toward the back staircase, tugging the robe more tightly around me as I moved further away from the center of the castle where the hotsprings heated it through stem vents. Nania, silently following behind me, handed me her gloves but I pushed them back at her gently with a smile and tucked my still-icy fingers under my arms to warm them faster.

The narrow stone staircase was not at all grand but was well used (though admittedly, mostly to the servants) it led deep into the castle but was brightly lit with mirrors in tunnels that ran through the walls all the way to the very tops of the towers. It was dark now though, lit only by fire --- the snow had clearly covered the mirrors again and no one had yet to clean them off.

Still, I was easily able to find my brother among the animals that were separated by bars made of ice or iron, depending on the creature. It was cold in here, but not windy and so therefore, it was bearable. I passed the snowbear cubs and found Aaren with the pinguines instead. He was walking among the waddling birds in their black and white suits with a pail of fish in his hands.

I watched a moment despite the urgency, near expecting the birds to attempt stealing the bucket for themselves. My brother laughed as one of the fuzzy pups tripped over himself to reach the food he couldn't yet eat whole anyway. Aaren tossed a fish right to the pups' webbed feet for him and the pup started swatting at it with a wing, not knowing what else to do with it now that he had what he'd wanted. An adult stole it from him before he could figure it out.

Despite our age difference, my brother and I could actually be mistaken for twins. At fifteen winters, I was tall for a girl and so nearly as tall as he was at twenty-six. We both had the same raven-black hair and pale skin --- common features among the Nascians. However, we also shared our mothers fine cheekbones and our fathers strong jaw, giving my brother a kind, handsome look while at the same time making me look perminately subborn. The only obvious difference in us was our eye colour; his with the same light brown as our fathers, while mine were instead a bright silver, apparently a feature my fathers' grandmother had, which many found unnerving. My eye colour further pushed the foolish rumors that I was gifted with a spirit inside me.

I quietly sent Nania away with a touch of her shoulder and then stepped over the low fence of ice. I landed with a crunch that caught the birds attention as well as Aarens. I laughed as I was surrounded my two dozen noisy birds and crouched down enough to pet the little ones until they realized I had no fish for them. I was then forgotten. My brother dumped the rest of the bucket onto the ice, then came over to me. "You look cold, Sister."

"I have only just returned."

"You traveled through the storm?"

"I trust Chia and the rest of my wolves to bring me safely home. They always do."

He frowned at me. "I thought you had stopped being so careless? You're not turning back into that wild self are you? I doubt fathers' heart could take any more of that."

I gave him an exasperated look at his tease and he gave me a grin and a shrug instead of an apology. "So why the rush home then? Did something happen?"

I let out a breath. "I had a vision while on the mountain."

He leaned against the ice next to me and crossed his arms. "I know that I am eleven summers older than you are, but is fifteen not a little too old to me telling stories for attention?"

I knew he was only teasing me again, but now was not the time for jests. "I am being serious, Aaren. I saw the castles burning. I'm frightened."

He kept his frown on me and shook his head slowly. "It's not that I don't believe you, Alie, but you know as well as I do that despite the rumors, no snowbear spirit lives inside you."

"It's know that." I said, irritated. "But I saw what I saw."

He sighed and tossed his arm over my shoulder. "Aliena, knowing you, you had been so distracted by your beloved animals that you forgot to eat and drink all day. You more than likely became dizzy and fell. What you saw was no more than a dream. Perhaps even an illdream."

"But... it was so real, brother. Unlike any dream I have ever had before. I cannot even begin to explain it, and my nose bled afterward. "

"Illdreams can be very real and nosesebleeds are common, Alie, you know this. It's all the salt and cold in the wind." He grimaced. "Winter has yet to even begin and already it has been colder than usual. We're in for a hard winter, I believe." His eyes went vacant a moment, his mind surly going to what he needed to do to help prepare the White City for such a winter. Then he shook himself from the thoughts and looked at me. He must have seen the worry still on my face because his eyes softened, as did his tone. "I do not doubt the power of the Mother, but if she wished you to know of danger in the castle, surly she would have sent an animal to warn us, not a dream."

"Vision." I corrected but his words were moving me and I felt myself relaxing. "Perhaps you are correct. Nania even said it was because I had yet to eat."

He kissed my forehead. "Precisely. Besides, we're covered in ice and snow. The only thing that can burn this castle is dragonfire and you said there were five castles burning. One of them was Dargolyn?" When I nodded, he squeezed my shoulder. "The Dargolyn king controls the dragons, remember? Even if this dream had some truth in it, why would King Loris burn his own castle? More than that, dragons haven't been seen in over fifty years; they may have all died inside the castle keep anyway."

"You know better than to believe rumors." I said, but the fight was out of me and I leaned against him with a sigh. "I supposes you're correct, Brother. It was just so... real. It felt so urgent."

He rubbed my arms as if to warm me. "Go and get into the hotsprings and loose the chill, then get some rest. Ma and Pa are out in the city so there's no point in a formal supper tonight. I doubt we'll see them until morn, which is probably a good thing seeing as if they find out you returned in the midst of a storm, I doubt they would allow you to eat anyway. You'd be going to bed without sup!"

I chuckled. "Truth." I admitted and kissed my brothers cheek. "Thank you, Aaren, you've calmed me."

"That's what I'm here for. Now go get warm; you feel like ice. "

I did as I was told, pushing down the lingering worry with a determination I had inherited from both my parent and perfected by watching my brother. It was a practiced skill and I used it to push the worry forcibly to the back of my mind.

LORYN

"There's my golden rose!" Said my father as I approached the dinner table. "Nori, bring the gift I had for my daughter, dha?"

Nori nodded. "Yes, Lord Barrick." She said with a bow and went off to quickly to do as she was told as my father embraced me, his wide girth nearly smothering me in a tight hug, but I loved every bit of it.

"Good morn, Father." I greeted as he pulled away and I could once again catch my breath. "I'm sorry I hadn't joined you for sup last eve."

"Oh, it's quite fine, sweet. I checked in on you and found you sleeping! You must have been exhausted to have fallen asleep so early. Did something happen?" He asked as he sat.

I wanted to tell him about the vision but a hard look for my still-seated mother stopped me. "Nothing, Father, I was only tired."

"Ah, well, the days are getting shorter now that winter is nearly here. Sleep will come better with the cooler nights. Come and sit. Tell me about your day."

I sat at the table opposite of my mother and looked at the massive array of foods before me, my mouth watering. I was so hungry having missed sup the night before and eating nothing since the small portion of green salad at noon the day earlier. Still, mindful of my mother's eyes on me, I took only a slice of apple seeded toast and butter, a few cubes of melon, and a drop of strawberry water. Judging by my mothers look of scorn, this was still too much so I skipped the butler and nibbled in the fruit between words. "Mother and I read in the garden, Father. There was a most wonderful breeze."

"Did you finish reading the sonnets I brought for you from Tark?" He asked, his eyes lighting up. Most men believe women have no need to read, but Father had always approved. We bonded through books of poems long before i have the memory of bonding.

"I did. I've moved onto the book of poetry by Neil Garbs." I told him proudly.

"Ah! Averton!" He smiled. "Beautiful poetry he writes. Even I enjoy a reading or two of the silvertrees they are so famous for."

"Wooded snow falls in lines; grained riches of silver be of the eyes if not the palm, as lace is upon a lovers spine." I quoted.

"The White." He said with a nod, then shook his head. "No, it's called The Silver." He corrected himself and smiled at me, full of pride. "About the silver lines between the grains of the silverwood, dha?"

"Dha." I agreed with a grin.

"I wasn't aware that you enjoyed romantics, Lord Husband." My mother spoke from across the table, not looking up from picking at her sugared grapefruit.

"Enjoy romantics? Not usually, but our daughter reads Garbs better than Garbs himself. Don't you think so, Wife?"

"Of course." She replied blandly.

"Lord Barrick?" Nori interceded gently as she approached the table and held out a small, delicately made, wooden box. "The gift you asked for?"

"Ah!" Father wiped jam from his thick fingers onto his jiggling belly and took the box himself before holding it out to me.

I took it in my hands. "Open it now?"

"Why of course, my golden rose! There is no better time!"

Grinning happily, I pulled the gold ribbon and lifted the cover of the wooden box. Inside, there sat six dark brown sweets drizzled with a thin red sauce. Each delectable had been carefully carved into the shape of a rose.

I struggled to keep the smile on my face. "They're beautiful, Father."

He laughed. "Tastes even better, I say. These came from the king himself! He just returned from across seas and as you know, they grow these beens that, when prepared properly, make a most fabulous treat. King Tarry had some made for sweet Queen Jesmin but she dislikes strawberries. I asked to buy them from him instead as a gift to you." He chuckled. "I had a mind to eat them myself, I admit. They smell is simply wonderful. "

"Well... thank you so much."

"Try them!"

I wanted to badly. The scent coming from the sweets was wonderful and foreign but the pressure of my belly against the tight wrap made me place the box down sadly. "I'll try them when I am finished breaking my fast, Father, but thank you so much. They look delicious."

"Judging by that plate of yours, you'll be fasting for quite a while. Goodness, Loryn, fill your belly!" He put some ham slices and cheese cubes on my plate himself, then added a few strawberries for good measure.

"Husband," my mother began when I stuttered across words, "Loryn can eat what she likes. There is no need to force food onto her."

"Nonsense, she's a growing girl. She needs more than this on her plate."

"I need to grow taller, not fatter." I am said quietly, but my father heard and dropped his hands hard on the table.

"What nonsense!" He exclaimed loudly. "You're too thin as it is! You have bones sticking out from you for goodness sake." He narrowed his eyes and turned them to my mother. "That's you putting that foolishness into her head again, isn't it?"

My mother tensed. "Loryn simply knows what fashion is in demand and wishes to be beautiful. There's nothing at all wrong with that."

"Beautiful?" His face went red. "She is beautiful, woman! Have you gone dull? Look at her! The girl is thirteen summers and I am already beating men away with sticks!"

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

"Of course they are." My mother snapped at me suddenly. "They come without laying eyes on you, foolish girl. They want a woman of high status and you are the daughter of a High Lord. The only girl above you is the princess herself. That is why they come!"

My father's fist slammed down on the table hard enough to spill a cup of water. "How dare you speak to my daughter that way you jealous thorn! Just because I married you for that reason doesn't mean they're after the same from her! She's beautiful and everyone knows it!" He looked at me, his face calming. "You're beautiful. Even more beautiful than your mother ever was."

"You're her father!" Screeched my mother. "Of course you say that!" She pointed a finger at me sharply. "You look in the mirror and see for yourself just how ugly you are you foolish little---"

"ENOUGH!" My fathers' shout rang out across the room, loud enough to demand my mothers' silence, but I was already up and running out of the room so that Father would not see me cry, leaving my plate of food behind.

I wasn't that hungry after all.

RITCH

I'd has the day off so spent the morn haggling with my measly earnings for some food to last the week. Normally, I could manage to bribe and bargain enough to bring home some meat, fairly good vegetables, and even some fresh goats milk for cheep. I knew all the tricks of course, on whom could be threatened and whom could bargain; which vendor was fair and which added wood dust to their flour. I knew which vendors didn't mind trading a bit of food for a bit of work, and I could tell you exactly whom would take some rotting vegetables for his garden and give a spool of thread in exchange. I had always assumed that I could do this with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back if it came down to it.

Apparently, that assumption had been an incorrect one, seeing as today my eyes were open and my hands untied, yet still I was loosing more than I was gaining. My mind kept wandering to the vision and I often found myself glancing toward where the tops of the castle towers were visable above the buildings that stood between.

I felt the need to warn someone, but who could I warn? I was the bastard son of the king and nothing more --- my bring red hair, so rare except among the royals, proved that, though my aunt never spoke of it. Even my mother hadn't admitted it until she was dilusional during her final days, crying out for Mason when I asked about my father. Mason, she'd call out as if calling to a loved one. King Mason.

But blood or no, I was a bastard and I cared as much for the king as he did me. Still, I did not want him to burn... and more importantly: would the city burn with it?

"Eh, boy-child?"

I blinked, realizing my mind had wandered again. I stared down at the vendor and had to look down further in order to remember what I had been asking for. And how much?

I shook my head --- I was useless today. "Nevermind." I said and turned toward home and my waiting aunt.

My Aunt Elda had taken me in after my mother had passed three years ago from The Sickness, not knowing that she herself would soon be dying from the same. When I had returned from work the night before, she had been delirious and speaking in tongues. When I'd woken this morning to silence, I was certain she was dead, but she'd only been asleep. Still, I recognized the signs from taking care of my mother and knew it would not be long before I would need to bury her. All that was left her future now was pain and embarrassment.

And then what? What would I do then? Should I try and keep the house? Live on my own? I'd basically been doing that for a year now anyway, but still, a part of my mind screamed I'm only twelve! I'm only a boy!

But what did it matter? I may be only a boy in age, but with growing up first in a brothel where my mother worked, then watching her die by myself in the streets of Silver City, then living as a normal child for less than a year before my aunt also because too ill to work... I don't even remember if I ever was just a boy.

I knew I could survive on my own. After all, I'd been carrying the weight of others as well for so long now. People told me I was smart --- I'd even taught myself my letters so I suppose this was true --- so that would help me survive surly. I could keep on living all by myself.

The thing was, I didn't want to.

I like people. Genuinely like them. I like watching people interact and hearing stories. I am a quiet person, but I listened to a lot and watch. I don't have any friends but that is by choice as I didn't have time for any, not between working as a woodworker and taking care of my aunt.

I passed the Temple of Anul and went down the alley next to it to reach my house faster. I pulled the stick out of the door which I placed there every morning to stop the door from swinging open on its own (the lock had been broken when I moved in), then went inside. It was dank and dark, just as I'd left it.

I put what pathetic items I'd managed to buy on the table and opened the single curtain to let some sun in. The air outside smelled of feces, sweat, and stale ale, but with the crisp autumn breeze, it was better than the stuffy inside. I went to the stove and made some willowbark tea to steep while I checked on my aunt. She was quiet now, but after being left for a few hours, she needed to be changed and I'd like to get some food into her. After that was laundry and dishes and I'd have to run to the river to fetch some more water to boil for sup. Broth again as it was the easiest to slip down her throat without choking her ---an experience I never wanted to repeat.

I went about my chores as the tea cooled.

My mind went back to the vision with no reason at all except that it had never fully left my mind in the first place. I forced myself to focus on the floor instead and decided it needed sweeping. I found a brush and did just that across the cracked silverwood --- only in this part of the city could silverwood be so aged and worn enough to crack.

The tea was ready: amber in colour and warm to the touch but no longer hot. I picked up another wax candle and the cup, then went into the only other room in the tiny house. I grimaced at the smell but was happy to see the embers in the fireplace still red from earlier and keeping the room warm though the day outside was cool.
Sneeking across the room, I quietly built up the fire until it was bright enough to work in by stirring the embers and adding more wood. It wasn't long before the fire was built up high. Judging by the stink, I had more than piss to clean off my aunt and though I'd rather not see that, it was better than missing some, I've come to learn.

I went to the edge of the bed and felt my aunts boney forehead, crumpled in pain even as she slept. She had a fever again. "Auntie?" I said gently, patting her shoulder. "Auntie."

She moaned and tossed her head weakly. "No more."

"I know, Auntie, but you need to drink some tea so I can---"

"No more."

"--- so I can clean and change you." I went on. "Then I say we get some soup for sup, yeah? I have some rabbit meat here, I can make a stew."

She opened her eyes and looked at me. "I'm so tired, Ritch."

"I'm know, Auntie. Here, I'll help you drink your tea."

She shook her head. "It hurts."

"It know." I said again. "Just drink your tea and it will---"

"I don't want the tea." She nearly sobbed. A few moons ago, she would have sobbed, but now she was simply too tired to cry. "Just end it. I'm so tired."

I stared a moment. "Auntie... what are you saying?"

"Just... just end it. I want to sleep."

I swallowed harshly and picked up the cup. "Just drink the tea and---"

"I don't want the tea!" She cried out and her hand knocked it from my own to spill into the bed then tumble and smash onto the floor into a hundred pieces of ancient, splintered wood. She took my hand and gripped it with more strength than she'd had for months. "End it, Ritch. Don't you make me suffer."

"I-I can't. I don't... know how."

"Just get the knife from the kitchen and stick it right here between my ribs. That's all."

"But---"

"Please. Now. Go." She pushed at me weakly, her strength leaving her again as quickly as it had come.

It was in a numbed state that I retrieved the knife from the kitchen and returned. Later, I'm sure I will not remember doing this part of it at all. It would seem to me like the knife appeared in my hand right there in the bedroom as I sat on the soiled bed next to my aunt.

But once I was sitting there again, all my senses became extra alert as if my entire mind was working double-time. Never before had I more clearly smelled the stink of decay or heard the pops, roars and cracklings of the fire, nor more clearly saw the dark veins so precice under the pallor of her skin. Even her breathing, weak as it was, seemed each as loud as a gust of wind from an angry God.

"No." I said, shaking my head frantically. "No. I can't. Y-you can't make me."

"I can't do this anymore, Ritch."

"No."

"Please, Ritch. Mercy. Have mercy and don't make me suffer anymore."

"It don't want to." How is it that my voice sounded so aged in its hoarseness while I spoke such childish words? "It don't want to. You can't make me."

"You have to. You won't make me suffer will you? Don't make me beg."

"Please. I don't want to."

"I know, Ritch, but it will be easy. I promise." She said. "I promise. It will be easy."

My heart was pounding as I raised the knife and held it there for so long my arms, strong as they were, actually began tiring. I don't know how I did it --- perhaps the terrible memories of my mother's last weeks, or the beg of mercy from my aunt --- either way, I slammed the knife down with a cry and the jarring impact reminded me of the axe on wood.

She let out a cry of pain and I realized with horror that the knife hadn't gone through but instead was stuck in the bone. I tried to pull it free but it wouldn't budge until I braced my knee on her stomach and wiggled it out while she cried and struggled weakly.

I panicked.

I slammed it down again but in a different place. Still, she didn't die, only gurgled blood, eyes wide.

Anger overwhelmed me. You said it would be easy! I wanted to scream at her as I stabbed at her again. And again. I'm just a boy! I'm just a boy! And then, Why won't you just die!

I closed my eyes tight and stabbed blindly over and over again until I realized that she was no longer struggling under me. I became aware, once again as if waking from a dream the stillness of her body; the sticky blood on my hands and chest; the tears and snot on my face. Louder than anything was the lack of pained breathing. There was a fresh scent of waste and I realized that this time, it was mine.

I crawled off the bed, leaving the knife where it was, and curled into a ball atop the broken pieces of wood on the floor and there, shaking, I sobbed.