Nelson could feel the sweat run his youthful back, the sun over head vivid in the spring sky. The rhythms of the Sisters song by the woman in prayer echoed from the temple from an open window. Pounding the last nail in on the tile of the humble cabin, he was glad for the two day job to be done. Having repaired the elderly monk's house once more when no one else would.

Such was his normal, feeling he might be the only one to help out father Brain. He had always had a deep kindness about him. More so when Nelson had lost his mother and cast out into the world without a place or anyone to help. Brian had taken in the ten-year-old, in his rags and dirty feet after trying to steal from the man some years ago in the marketplace. Showing him that life could be better with a helping hand to show him a new way.

Climbing down the latter, the teen pushed back the mess of red hair. Freckles dashed on his shoulders as the monk came to carry cold water and some baked scorns for Nelson. The milky sheen in his eyes kept him from seeing the smile of thanks, yet he just knew in giving his own smile in turn.

"Thank you, my friend. The storm sure did leave a mark on my old house." Brien said his hands in their holding of the tray in placing it down.

Brien was in late 60's with little hair to crown his head; he had wrinkles around his eyes once the color of fresh hay. Unfathomable laugh lines mirror around his mouth, showing he smiled at life with a sense of dignity. A simple robe of a deep red with a belt hung on his body, still lean and strong in his walks of walking around the town and speaking with people in his duties as a monk to the sisters.

The pendant held by a silver chain was the only show of richness, the sign of the Hearth of the Tree Sisters.

Nelson eyed as it flashed in the sun, making him feel uneasy. Just he smiled and took a gulp of the water. Fondness for his old friend lingered over the unease. Than the clank of chains caught his ears, making him turn to glance over his shoulders. A heavy looking man, in a robe like Brian, wore covered the colossal man, his chestnut hair nearly cut to his head. Heavy in the brow and slim cheeks, his lips pressed thin in never smiling in his mock calm. Only a large chain, wrapped around his left shoulder to the front gleamed in the shine of steel used in the name of the Hearth.

He was a Chain Brother, a warrior monk to the Hearth. His job in life was to always protect the temple and those called it home. Nelson felt wary of the man like many did with the crimson hue that shown over his eyes. Adding a touch of madness to many had called. Nelson just called him Tom; given all Chain, Brothers cast away their names once bound in oaths to the Temple.

Locking eyes, the youth turned away in the heavy gaze of the Brother. Grabbing his gray tunic, he slipped it over his head. "Why didn't members of the temple help out?"

Brian smiled in the sound of the question in his wisdom, "The Festival of Saint Gardenia, starts in five days Nelson. Their attention is where it should be in preparing the body and soul, but also the temple for the people. Being blind, I can help out as much as I once did. Thankfully to the Sisters, we have kind souls like you to help out an old man."

Chuckling, the monk came to sit down on a wooden rocking chair. "Which I wish you would come to Mass more Nelson. It has been noted by some you don't come as you should."

Nelson felt his face stone up, knowing the monk meant well in his words. Just, he hated the Hearth of the Three Sisters in their actions or lack of actions that had killed his mother years ago. "I have my reasons Brien; let us leave it at that ok?"

Signing, the monk only could help someday that Nelson would let go of his hate and come to embrace the love of the Hearth in the Sisters tending of the Flame. "Ok, my boy. Get off with you than! I know you got duties at the Hag's Way tonight. Molly is a lucky woman to have you help her as much."

Blushing, he smiled and took off in not saying too much. He did have some time to explore the ruins of the castle for a few hours and maybe see the swan before heading to work for the evening hours.

Waving bye, he passed by the Chain Brother in turning to look at him. "His door is going to need replacing Tom, so I'll need your help in the heavy lifting later this week! "

The giant of a man only did a small nod, not speaking, just the whisper of a smile as gone soon as he let it slide. Nelson took it as an enough of a yes before heading back to the lake and the ruins.

It took a bit of a speedy walk, wading into the market that had just opened an hour ago. Women with children in tow, looking at breads and vegetables. A man was preparing some leather for some shoes while a man waited in the shop. Voices toned in trying to make a deal or a trade filled the market. A woman with a fruit stand eyed him up and down, rough and judging in moving closer to her sorry little apples.

He rolled his eyes, knowing most people in this place also thought of him as the same. He was a Sorrow, a child born outside the blessings of the Sisters. Raised in the pagan religion, his soul lost unless he embraced the Flame by joining the Temple as a monk or the Army. Which might save the soul of his mother and him to enter the Gates of the Land Beyond where the Sisters waited for their children upon death? His father, if dead. Was cast to the Land Below, bound in chains to burn for his misdeeds!

Not that Nelson every believes any of this stuff! Glad for the bread from the elderly monk, he took to the wooden path, hidden from peering eyes to make his way to the castle. He knew he was close, as pale stones once mother of pearl in hue lay broken as once had stood as oblistics. Hand carved faces and history of Erdin faded now from wind and rain over the last 200 years from the fall of the Kingdom.

Smelling the flowers, the faint scent of the lake and the trees green of spring sent some peace to his soul. Already from the small bag, he carried in his paper and pencils for drawing on the spot shifted on his left side. She loomed, once a castle of a graceful castle, rooms full of art and handicraft fortune, rich rugs and tapestries of old tales. Now empty and bone dry from the fire that claimed her and those who had come to take the riches inside.

The last place the Royal family had once been alive.

Nelson shudders, walking down the path unkempt by weeds and grass and making a left to what had been the Queen's Garden. The ruins had a looming sense of sorrow and maddening anger, hate even in some parts of the place. Other parts, not touched by the fire, that of great love and a sense of wisdom mixed with power. Nelson had been exploring these hollow rooms and places all his life, minus one he would never go again.

The Grand Ballroom charred by black fire and filled with a void of abhorrence and pain. The black mark, burned into the floor even still all these years. He had gone once, blinded by those feelings and unwell for days in the body. Cursed! Only would that explain that event in the ballroom.

Stepping down the long hallway, he scented the lilac trees on the winds. Picking up his base in lean legs striding to the doorway. Smiling, the lazy sunlight played on the lavender richness of the flowers, flowers bloomed he could not name. An old swing that once had been tied to an oak tree lay in the grass and falling apart. What was had been a miniature water fountain, now covered in moss and empty? What did remain of the glory of the garden was the feeling of peace and playful love, the echo of a girl's laughter in the walls and a young man's as he gave chase.

Then it took him, his senses flooded out to grasp that vanished history. A peek of a compilation of the energy left of the deep-rooted feelings the stones held the garden overlayer of the past in his mind. Nelson knew not to fight when his Gift flared up so strong from his ironclad control. It was being thrown in a strong current in the sea, you just had to go with it, or drown in the pull.

He saw her, an adolescent girl in plain black pants and a loose tunic, covered in dirt on her hands from helping to plant with her mother. A dark crown of chestnut hair, wavy and free bounced as she ran. Her childish face full of joyful play as a pair of golden-hued eyes lit up like sunshine in casting a look at the painter, never seeing. The child had been around 8 years old, in knowing only love at the start of her life in the castle. Skipping down the stone steps as a man, no a young man kept up with the child with his long limbs in their game of chase.

He was maybe; shy of 14 in this memory, given this was not Nelson first time seeing the lost prince. His raven black hair was mysterious; it seemed blue when the light hit parts of it. Strong cheeks with a firm square jaw that showed in the man was to become, nightfall hued eyes glowed in chasing the girl. Level set shoulders covered in a simple white tunic and cotton blue pants lay on his lean legs. Something of the boy lingered in his body, a little new to growing limbs in his walk a little awkward.

A prince lost, never found. Now back in the past of this garden, his smile in joy on lips that would have given orders to his kingdom or whispered sensual words to his lover. Now all he did was enjoy chasing his little sister in a peace of a summer day. Then as it had started, it ended and faded, leaving Nelson on the ground on his hands and knees, his body shaking from using his Gift.

What did it mean? Lost in words in letting his body rest on the thick grass and glad to have a moment to breathe. Birds sang in the trees as a few bees went about their duties to the hive, one buzzing close to his ears to fill his mind. Nelson felt his body gain control, the prince's eyes burned into his mind eyes as they did. Yearning to know if the boy had become a man, gone in the attack of his family 200 years ago.

Yet was he dead? Nelson felt a great puzzle always on his mind. If he asked or dug too much into the past, the Temple of the Hearth would come for him. Frustration always on the edge of wanting to know what their nation had lost to the fires those years ago. So he lay in the grass, his mind in a puzzle of the memory and why they reached out to him.

On the lake, the swan shudders in nibbling his grass and cast his gaze to the ruins. Twitching his wings, his white body glowed under the light of the sun. Knowing something had happened, a person using a Gift and he was not the only one to sense this. On the shores, a man moved, his chain flashing in the sunlight. New to come this day with a few monks and to protect a Sister of Veil for the Festival to happen in five days at the Temple. Crimson-hued eyes cast a lean look at the ruins, narrowing in sensing the use of a pagan Gift.

Now was to wait to find the heathen and take him to the Fires to be judged... 

Notes:    Well I got it done!    Took a bit of work and given the world building,   I'm just happy I got this out!  If you see any grammar or things needed to be fixed and edit,  let me know in a comment!  

You readers make me keep writing and doing this kind of thing!  It means a lot to me to share this book with you!