There was a tense silence that took over the breakfast nook after Olleander had expressed his personal loss. His grandchildren stood on either side of him, hands rubbing his back, dismayed by the tale.

"Grandpa, that's... I'm so sorry," Will said.

              Laina was quiet, tears sliding down her face as she sat on the arm of his chair and hugged him. Sky was solemn, thoughtful.

"It was a long time ago." There was a wistful smile on Ollie's crinkly old face. 

He remembered his mother well, her long delicate fingers that would run through her bouncy red curls when she was thinking, her gentle demeanor and her majestic singing voice trilling a sweet lullaby before tucking him in. He remembered his father, too, with his easy smile and his strong arms as good for hugging as they were for cutting wood or lifting little boys. The sting of fresh grief had gone and left in its place an ache around which he'd structured a full and loving life in their wake and their memory. But some days, his sorrow over missing them was as acute and painful, as fresh as the newly discovered realization that a memory was fading, becoming lost. Or that there was some advice he wanted, some meaningful moment he wished he could share with them.

"How did you get out? What happened to get you here?" Will asked.

Ollie let out a sigh. "Quite a bit between here and there, I'd say. We still have some ground to cover. Perhaps we can move inside to the living room? These chairs are hurting my stiff old back."

He got up and everyone followed, making themselves comfortable on the beige couch and the black leather lounge chairs. Laina sat beside her grandfather, her slippers kicked off and her legs folded up underneath her. Will sat across from him, but instead of splaying back like usual, he sat forward eagerly, elbows on knees. Sky sat back in her armchair, wings hoisted over the back. When they all seemed comfortable, Olleander continued, his animated narrator voice whisking them away to the two brothers in the cell.

***

              We were picked up by horse and buggie and moved from the cell in the village to –

"Horse and buggie?" Laina and Will asked simultaneously.

"Right, yes. Horse and buggie. Htrae is old school. That's what you kids call it, right? Old school? There's no fancy technology over there.  Everything runs on rune enchantments. They haven't needed electricity or computers. It's all simple mechanics that seem to work as if by magic." He giggled at his on joke. "But where was I? Ahhh, yes..."

              We were moved from the cell in the village to a military school in the South. It was a strict boarding school owned by the Empire for training magically Talented children who needed discipline. We were watched, but there was no point in escaping yet. We had no where, no one, to go home to anymore. And we had a new mission: revenge.

From what we had gleaned after running away, our parents had been Empire resisters. We waited, we learned and trained so we could successfully follow in their footsteps. The propaganda and politics we heard from teachers, students, and guards was blatantly obvious to us. We had been brought up with different values and beliefs. The Empire preached hatred of those without magic, said that magic was seeping out of the world and that being Tainted was a contagious condition like a disease. Our parents had taught equality of all people – magical or not. They had said that there were many theories around why magic was leaving the world and that some were simply born without those abilities or some lost their magical abilities, but that didn't make those without special magics any less valuable to society.

We held on to that. The beliefs our parents had had were our anchors. We clung to the hope for a world where we could right the wrongs we'd made and make our parents proud.

At the beginning, we tried to argue with the students, reason with them, change their minds, but it was clear their opinions were ingrained. Anything we said against their agenda would only get us locked in solitary. So we blended in, became just like them, spouted the same nonsense. We even developed friendships with those who preferred not to discuss politics. As far as others were concerned, we acted tough and we excelled in our classes, taking in every little bit of information we could. Sometimes it seemed like we were one of them, so good were we at playing bullies and spouting propaganda when the need arose.  Jorah and I became two of the most elite students in the school, focusing mostly on our studies and on becoming adept in our magics, learning every spell in every book to which we had access – and there were a lot. Both of us were exceptional students and magic wielders – there was a drive behind our obsessive learning our peers didn't have. Jorah and I were now each others' only family, but we also happened to enjoy each others' company immensely. We had both inherited our dad's jokes.

At school, we were known reverentially – our powers were leaps and bounds above the others – as the Wumble brothers: Jorah and Olleander Wumble.

We learned, too, of a Kingdom in the North called Aary. The Empress was at war with their King. There were always comic strips around of the idiot ruler, old and ugly and blustering, the words 'Tainted Lover' splashed in red paint across the bare skin of his protruding belly. But there were rumours, whispers, that the fat belly of the monarch was symbolic – the Kingdom of Aary was pregnant with dissatisfaction and any deserters or Tainted who wanted to oppose the Empire. They could find shelter and support in Aary. The fight between Aary and Epicuria had raged, intermittently, for 40 years, ever since the blight on wizardkind had begun and magic had started to dwindle. We had grown up sheltered, but the world we were now thrown into was vastly more complicated than we could have imagined.

For six long years we studied and trained. Our graduation day approached. As two of the most adept magic-users at our school, both with rare affinities, we had a good chance of being chosen for the Empress' own elite team. What everyone else considered the greatest honour, something other students were willing to die for and eventually probably would, we considered vile. You would be bonded to the Empress for life if she chose you, compelled to do her bidding always. This bonding was advertised as the greatest achievement a warrior or mage could hope for, but Jorah and I knew what it truly meant: a life of servitude to someone twisted. We considered allowing it to happen, forging the bond with the Empress and then biding our time until the day came that we could trick her, hurt her and take down the Empire. The problems with this flighty idea were numerous though: once forged, the bond had never been broken. Our research also suggested that someone bonded could never physically or magically hurt their dominant, and we simply were not powerful enough by ourselves to take down Her Opulence. 

Instead, we decided on an alternate plan. The day before graduation, we escaped, now 17 and 19 years of age. We broke out of the school under cover of night. The catastrophe of our first escape haunted our thoughts as we went North to find the King of Aary. 

"Grandpa... our last name is Aary, not Wumble. And you said... you said..." Laina was looking at her gramps with a concerned expression. "And that would mean you aren't really ... our blood relative?" The wheels spun behind her big blue peepers, as she pieced things together slowly. "And our... no, no.  That doesn't make any sense."

"Wait Laina. I'll explain. It's time for you and Will to know the truth. All of it," Ollie said. He wondered if they could tell he was ever so slightly nervous.

***

              When we arrived in the North by horseback, the bells were ringing in the streets around the Aary Kingdom. A great victory had been won by their soldier King. According to the people, so proud of their leige, it was clear that he was the opposite of the bloated imbecile in the comic at which the students at our school had laughed. His people described him as strong but kind, young but wise, handsome but modest. He was married, but the royal couple had yet to give the kingdom an heir. It was clear the people adored their king regardless. Looking around the people of Aary seemed healthy and happy. The lands and farms in the North had prospered despite the war. Warriors were sent to protect the borders from pillaging and burnings in the areas closer to the South. This people was a people united behind a force for good; their conviction: that magicals and non-magicals should stand together against the Empire.

              Jorah and I made our way to to the castle after a few days at an Inn. We wanted to explain our purpose and our abilities, lend our services, hoping we would not be suspected as spies for the Empire. Upon our arrival at the front gate, we were met by a winged angel with jet black hair.

              "We've been waiting for you," Sky said.

"Hold up! Did you say Sky?," Will interjected. "Like this Sky sitting right in front of us? That can't be!"

              The 'angel' and the old man shared a look and a laugh at Will's bewilderment. To the room, Sky said, "Yeah, that was me. Though I wasn't any more of an angel back then either."

"So you're as old as Grandpa?" Will's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"Older still," Sky said, "though not as old as some."

"So ... does that mean you're 100 or 200 or ... ?"

"I'm in the 400s," Sky said.

Olleander watched Will grapple with Sky's age. His face was pure shock. The boy was clearly smitten and had no idea what to do with this information or how to woo someone centuries older. Ollie couldn't help but worry slightly. He understood the crush but hoped that was all it was. His grandson would move on, he'd find an easier love. Better Will never discover the price for loving Sky – he wouldn't wish that fate on his worst enemy, never mind the young man he'd raised as his own grandchild. Of course, Will was enamoured, but that was all. Olleander had been starry-eyed once too, a seventeen-year-old boy starring at a majestic demi-god.

So there we were, two brothers standing in front of a Valkyrie. We were, admittedly, confused. Almost as confused as you were when Sky landed on our property.

              She explained that the King was expecting us. She told us she was the daughter of a Wyrd, and that she had divined our best possible future. It was our destiny, she said, to protect the Aary King and the family he would have, to watch over them always, to stand by their side and help generation after generation. And in doing so, we would one day do our part in bringing about the downfall of the Empress, just as we so desired. Any other route we decided to take would end in failure.

               At first, we only half believed her, thought perhaps she might even be manipulating us for her own means, but it was clear the King trusted her so we were accepted into the kingdom with open arms. We tested Sky, asking her questions about possible future situations, but each time events unfolded just as she predicted they likely would. The future wasn't set in stone, so it wasn't a fine science, but she knew more than most ever should. And we had no other plan, no better solution. She would spend a lot of time at the castle as well, and eventually we learned her story and we discovered she, more than anyone, coveted the downfall of the Empire's ruler. From then on we trusted our place in Aary and we made the castle our home.

The King even became our friend. He was only a few years older than we were, in fact. He protected his people against an aggressive Empire with a great army and powerful mages, a cavalry of Griffins and an unshakeable conviction. The war, in those days, continued on as mostly inactive, an occasional flare up here or there. The Empress knew he was a formidable enemy, so she left his kingdom alone for the most part, conquering further and weaker territories instead.

Over time, Jorah and I became Royal Mages. And one day, old though he and his wife were, the King and Queen finally became pregnant with the heir they had been wishing for for so long. A strong and healthy boy was born in the year 1971. His name was Nolan, and the people were overjoyed to have a Prince. Parties ran into the streets the night of his birth. Even Jorah and I had a few drinks to celebrate. We had no wives or family, even as men well into our thirties – the royal family was our kin and revenge against the Empire, our mistress. We watched Prince Nolan grow into a boy, and then a man and then a King, all with grace and kindness and intelligence. He was a good man, a talented warrior, and when his father passed, he became a leader always striving for greatness.

Nolan married a beautiful Queen, one with a generous heart and a penchant for divination magic. She was from the cold Kingdom of Fornost and her hair was ice-blond. It had been a royal match, but there was great love that grew between the young King and Queen. Nolan took pleasure in making his serious Queen double over with laughter whenever he could. She adopted the culture of Aary as her own, loving and caring for the citizens, constantly finding solutions to their day to day problems. They were an ideal fit. Not long after the wedding, they had a beautiful baby girl, Princess Rowan of Aary. Jorah and I became great uncles. It was a very happy time.

But rumblings of the happenings in the Empire were brought to the ears of King Nolan, rumours that the Empress was slaughtering everyone without magic, systematically eliminating – and committing genocide against – her own people. This, Nolan couldn't abide. He refused to do nothing and so he prepared for an active and aggressive war. For two years battles were waged, army against army, tactics against tactics. Jorah and I would guard him, defending him with our spells and protecting him and others in battle as he flew onto each field, fighting beside the people of Aary. The young King gained ground, but the Empire's army was large and its lands were vast. He was losing good men and women, soldiers returning to their families in body bags. They scaled back the war and ran rescue raids over the border. Sometimes people returned and sometimes they didn't. After the Battle of Granda, both sides had seen vast casualties and the Empress and King agreed to talk. They drew up terms for an armistice – she would send the Tainted to his Kingdom instead of hurting them and he would gladly accept the refugees and stop his attacks.

Seventeen years ago, we rode out with the army to meet the Empress, Jorah and I, the chosen Grand Mages at the side of the King and Queen of Aary. Though we blamed ourselves for our parents' deaths, along with the overly-zealous guard who had stolen their lives, Jorah and I felt the Empress had played her part in their brutal killing. We would be meeting her, looking into her eyes, craving justice, as she signed a peace-treaty. Our vengeance would continued to be unsatisfied, but it was what our King wanted and we were willing to go along with his bidding.

Nolan, following tradition, told us to drop the magical wards in place as he went to sign the treaty. Our king was no fool, but he believed in the good in people, he trusted too much. The Empress slit his throat, murdering him while his back was turned.

"Woah. That's ... horrific! Like second level evil." This time it was Will interrupting, so Ollie gave him a pointed look.

"It was. And she is. As evil as a person can be, the Empress is," Ollie said. "But there's more to the story still."

It was too quick for Jorah or I to intervene. The armistice had been a trap. We had failed in our duties to a King and Kingdom we had grown to love. Our Queen, still alive, was distraught, livid at the loss of her king, her husband, the father to her child – her emotions erupted into an uncontrollable surge of volatile magic. Primal magic in Htrae had been unheard of for over 300 years. Even before magics had begun to disappear, it was the rarest form of magic known to Htrae and no one had known the Queen was capable of it. It was, is, considered a very dangerous magic, one that is both as erratic and untameable as it is intuitive to your emotions and responsive to your wants. It is incredibly powerful. Imagine magic leaping to your aid without actions or words or rules. The Queen unleashed a wailing wind of death, powerful enough to eviscerate the Empress along with every other living soul, her people included, on that battlefield. Then, horrified and heartbroken, the Queen of Aary threw herself off a cliff.

"Grandpa, stop! This story is miserable. If this is all true, you'd be dead! And sure, they are Aarys too, but I still don't understand who the Queen is or how Will and I are related to these royals. And does it ever have a happy ending?"

"Maybe one day," Ollie answered wistfully. "But so many questions! Some of which will be answered if I could just finish." Ollie replied.

"Fine. But I expect some answers soon," Laina whined.

              Obviously, I am not dead. And not everything was what it appeared to be. After the King was killed, Jorah and I threw up a barrier of protection around ourselves and the Queen. Jorah and I held our Queen's magic at bay enough to protect ourselves, but we were stretched to our limits, and eventually we were knocked prostrate and in severe pain from the waves of crippling magic we were trying to fend off. We survived only to watch our heartbroken Queen jump. Then, helpless and hurt, our powers drained, we watched the Empress and her Grand Physician get up, look around and stroll to their Wyverns. They had both survived – but of course they had, her Wizard had never dropped her wards. Unmaimed, the Empress walked away the victor, her strongest rivals dead and their army nothing more than scattered armor as markers, crumbling tombstones in a graveyard. 

              After the heat of the battle, in shock, Jorah and I were at a loss for what to do. Sky found us, having been guiding souls to their resting places from the battle, and told us that the Empress was flying towards the Aary Kingdom. There was still a Princess and kingdom full of people in Aary. Jorah was to fly as fast as he could to Aary to try and save Rowan and to help people escape the Empress's wrath. Sky warned us that it would be too late, but that it was Jorah's path to try.

              My path, she said, was not so clear to her but that it would involve protecting our Queen. She had jumped, committed suicide, but my ward had not lifted. She, too, was alive somewhere. I was to find the Queen and return. I searched and searched, but she was nowhere to be found. And then I received bad news from Jorah. As Sky had said, he had arrived too late. All of Aary had been burnt to the ground, the Tainted had been killed or corralled to be sent to camps, and the princess Rowan had been taken, possibly killed. He could find no trace of the two-year-old heir. Aary was now under the Empire's control.  We had failed to protect the people we loved once again.

              My brother Jorah was determined to find the princess if she was still alive and to build a rebel force. One day, he told me, he would lead a revolution to overthrow the Empire. But I still had not found the Queen, a woman that had treated me with kindness. I had loved her like family. For weeks and weeks I searched, using every magic trick in the book. Still she eluded me. But the Queen had always loved forests and if she was somewhere, it was in the woods. I tracked her to a strange tangle of weeping willows, pieces of her torn velvet cloak stuck to bushes nearby. Then I lost her path again. It was strange, eerie. It was as if a magical curtain was hiding her. I slept in a copse of trees and when I awoke, the sun seemed to bend in the air at a sharp angle. I walked towards the play of light and heard a sound, a low grumbling like continuous thunder. I followed the noise and popped out of the woods beside a smooth wide path.

I was being charged by a horrible beast of metal, a dragon of iron with sunbeams for eyes.

              Or so I thought at the time. Turns out it was a car rumbling down the road. The driver honked, and I ran away. I had stumbled upon a portal, a tear in the veil that lead to Earth. The Queen, I knew, was in this strange world somewhere too and she was vulnerable. A display of magic that powerful was too much. It would have killed most and at the very least would have driven her insane. Wizards only have so much energy to convert to magic. The magnitude of what she'd done had been a macabre wonder.

I continued to look for her and I learned about the new world I had stumbled into. I walked to a town and marvelled at the grand technologies, to me they were as unlikely as magic is to people on Earth. I talked to people and discretely gathered information about how this world ran. I read local newspapers. I posted missing adds with the police. Days stretched to months, months to a year, and then longer. I could not find a spell that would attach itself to her and so I was forced to search like any non-magical, relying on the resources of a strange place I did not know. But still, I looked for my Queen. She was out there somewhere, alone and lost.

Eventually, I found an article that talked of a pregnant woman suffering from psychosis and memory loss who had been picked up by authorities and sent to an institute in Muskoka two years prior. At the time, I thought it unlikely to be the Queen of Aary, but I went to investigate nonetheless. Apparently, the Queen had hid it well, but petite though she had been, she had been seven months pregnant when she had jumped off that cliff. When I finally discovered her at the Insane Asylum, locked up with no memory, spouting gibberish, it broke my heart. She was my family, but she did not know me.  I told the nurses at the Asylum that she was my only daughter. I inquired about the rumours of her pregnancy and they told me that I was a grandfather. Sofia had delivered twins prematurely, alone in a forest on Earth, one female and one male. But they had spent the last year and a hal –

"What the –," the Laina and Will chorus began.  "Was she..."

"Your mother? Yes, obviously. Why do you think I was telling you this story?" Ollie paused, waiting for a response and then continued when he decided the twins had considered it rhetorical. "Your mother was the Queen of Aary. And the two of you are from a world filled with magic."

"Hey Grandpa, this is all just a lot to take in," Will responded. "It all seems very surreal."

"Fair," Ollie concluded, continuing on. "I looked after your mother, visited every other day. I established the paperwork to adopt you two then, to get you taken out of the foster care system. And I have watched over my small family, staying here to keep you protected from the Empire ever since. I love you and you are my grandchildren, understand? I raised you. While my brother started a rebellion, I changed your diapers and wiped the tears off your ruddy little cheeks. I read fairy tales and did homework with you. I preserved your childhood and perhaps I protected you from the truth. But you were safest here where the Empress could never find you. And you deserved to grow up as children, without the weight of the world on your shoulders. But you are royalty from a bloodline with vast magical aptitudes. And you both have an important destiny."

"And we have a sister?" Laina inquired, looking for clarification. "I think ...."

"This is cra–" Will began.

"zy." Laina finished. But it definitely wasn't the crazy Laina had been expecting.

"Yes," Ollie answered. "You have a sister named Rowan. She is with my brother Jorah in Htrae. And one of the three of you is prophesied to ... well ... to save two worlds from the shadow of the Epicurean Empire."

Both Laina and Will looked back at Ollie, incredulous.

"No biggie. We totally got this. The stakes aren't high or anything," Will crowed sarcastically.

"Yes," Sky glanced at Will quickly. "Everything depends on you two. And thanks to Olleander, neither of you are even remotely prepared." She glared at Ollie, remembering again why she was so frustrated with him.

"No pressure or anything. So does that mean we get to go to Hogwarts or something?" Will asked, looking a little too eager.

"No," Sky answered. "It means you get a crash course in magic from whomever has the time to teach you. And it means we have to get our butts to Htrae. Yesterday."

"Oh, I forgot!" crowed Olleander.

"What?" Laina, Will and Sky all inquired in unison.

"The," Ollie pronounced, "END! You started peppering me with questions before I could say the end." He was laughing to himself softly and was surprised that no one else seemed to be laughing with him. But the joke was on them. Ollie had learned years ago that grave matters were much more bearable when handled with a bit of good old dad-joke-humour.

***

So now you have some answers! What did you think? Did you put it all together before? Comment and let me know. If you enjoyed it, please vote.