PROLOGUE

  I

  “Like witches and faeries?”

  A thunderous strike of lightning jolted her from her sleep and she yelped with fright. In a panic she sat up and dug her palms and heels into the wet and muddy ground, crawling and sliding backwards, looking around sharply. Her eyes were blurry and burning from the downpour of rain running down her face into them. Mud and rain? Confused, she blinked away the water and wiped at her face with her hand in a futile attempt to dry her eyes. Her hand was covered in mud and dead grass, and it only made things worse. For a moment she closed her eyes and raised her head, letting the rain wash away the mud. Looking down again she realised suddenly that she was entirely naked, and she was shivering from the cold. Her long hair clung wetly and uncomfortably to her body. Fear shot through her. Why was she naked? Where was she? Who… was she? An shiver ran through her and she bit down hard on her knuckle as she thought. All her memories came back in a blur, like trying to look through a steamed up window at something far away. Her name was Sellyn. Sellyn Camille. That was all she could remember.

  With little relief and new burning questions, she looked up to try and make some sense of where she was, or how she could have gotten there. It was raining hard, the large pellets pelting her back as strong wind blew from behind her. The continuous downpour of heavy rain made visibility next to impossible, and she had to wipe her eyes every few seconds in order to see what little she could. She was in some kind of field or clearing, that much she could tell, but she could see almost nothing else around her. Shivering, she grabbed her body and hugged herself in an instinctual but futile attempt to keep warm. She was starting to feel dizzy from the cold, and her ears and nose throbbed. If she didn’t get out of the rain soon, and get dry and under cover, things could get bad. As if being stranded naked in a field with no memory wasn’t bad enough already.

  Frozen from cold and confusion, she was struggling to think about what to do next or where to go. Ahead and just to the left was a faintly visible silhouette of what could only be a densely wooded area. It drew a dark gray line across the hazy horizon.

  Her stomach dropped a little when her eyes fully focused through the veil of rain and she saw a colossal silhouette of something reaching out and up from within the woods. Was it a tower of some kind? It’s unnatural size and height stunned her and filled her with unease she couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was her lack of memory, but she thought nothing made by human hands could ever be this monumental in scale. From where she stood it must have been at least ten kilometres away, and yet it reached up through the clouds like a pillar that held up the sky.

  Without another thought she got up and began walking toward the woods. Whether she liked it or not, right now it was the only place she could go. Wherever she was it must have been raining for days, since the clearing she was in was almost swamp-like in its muddy wetness. Her feet caked with mud and grass as she walked, and they sucked and sloshed through the terrain with every step. She ached all over from the shivering, and her legs tired quickly from the heavy mud that was packing onto her feet one step at a time, made worse as dead grasses tangled through the mud and into each other. By the time she reached the end of the clearing she was totally winded, and no longer as cold. The hard physical work it took to get there had distracted her and warmed her up, even if just a little.

  Huffing and panting, she took a few more steps forward and leaned against the trunk of a tall pine tree. The air smelled like the ocean, and damp earth, crushed pine needles, wet wood. She inhaled the crisp cold air deeply, exhaling slowly through her nose. A shiver took over her bod again as the cold air filled her, reminding her once again that she was in fact, still naked.

  Now that she was out of the rain’s relentless assault, being totally naked became her biggest worry. It felt suddenly like a thousand eyes were on her, staring from every deep corner of the woods, just out of sight. Invisible hands reached out to touch her. She shook her head and dismissed her thoughts. Covering herself was pointless and impossible, and the thought of being totally exposed to the world brought the tight feeling of anxiety up from her stomach.

  The only place she could think to go now was that terrifying, looming tower. With a reluctant sigh she put one foot in front of the other.

  The terrain inside the woods wasn’t much better, or dryer, or easier to navigate. The forest floor was littered with decaying plants and leaves, and everything she stood on or touched was either wet or slippery. Occasionally a hidden thorn or broken twig would stab through the damp-rotten leaves, stinging and scratching at the bottoms of her bare feet. Rough terrain, tree roots, and slippery rocks wore on the soles of her feet over time, and they began feeling hot and raw. The thick and closely knit trees did provide some shelter from the heavy downpour, but thick droplets and thin streams of water still continuously ran and fell from the heavy branches, and there was no chance that she would be dry out here.

  After what felt like hours of difficult and uncomfortable hiking, her path finally crossed with a woodland trail that seemed like it was sometimes used. There was a small flat boulder just off of the path ahead of her, and she thought she would use it to take a small rest.

  The stone was ice cold and slippery, and she stood up almost immediately after sitting down, when she began sliding off of the slimy surface. She was damp and itchy, small dead leaves and other forest debris clinging to her clammy skin. After a few deep breaths she walked onward up the newly found path. She was thirsty, which she found quite funny.

  Compared to the walking she had done until now, she found it much easier, and less painful. The ground was soft and the leaves and debris had been pressed flat from being often walked on, without any hidden sharp surprises underneath. She wished however, that she had something, anything to cover herself. The thought of stumbling across a stranger now of all times terrified and embarrassed her. She picked up the pace, determined to find shelter and clothing before anyone could find her, or at best, find someone before they found her first.

  For about an hour she walked at a steady and comfortable pace, only needing to duck occasionally to avoid a branch or a beady wet spiderweb. The path was generally well maintained, and most overgrowth and large obstacles seemed to have been cleared with time. It was the kind of growth one saw on a path traveled often enough that the plants do not have time to regrow. The rain lightened into a constant fine mist, and a few stray rays of sun broke through the clouds and trees for only a few minutes before the sky darkened again. Once the rain let up, the clouds only thickened in the sky and the forest around her began darkening too.

  Chilly winds blew through the trees periodically, raining large ice cold droplets onto her unprepared body. Everything was truly miserable and no good. The only good thing about the weather, she thought, was that most things that could kill her were smart enough to find shelter. Low, deep rumbles of rolling thunder intermittently broke the sounds of bugs and birds, and the sudden silences made her uneasy. Small bugs began landing on her, and she rubbed and scratched at herself as they nipped at her. Just as she began feeling anxious she looked up and saw a small opening in the thick wooded path in the distance ahead blocked by a stone wall. A small spark of relief shot within her and she began approaching the clearing with a light and excited jog, her heart racing a little. Her relief and excitement heightened when she broke out into the clearing and finally came into contact with the stone wall. Finally, some form of human life. Even if it was abandoned, she hoped there would be something to help her. An old grain sack would do at this point. The thought of grain reminded her of bread, and to her dismay she realised that she was also starving. Her stomach ached, and she was exhausted.

  She followed the path along the tall and mossy wall until she came across an opening. It was a regular stone arch without any door or gate. The stone was old and loosely cut, stained an offish green from years of mold and mosses, and worn from rain and moisture. White circles of dead lichen sporadically broke up the greyish green.

  She cautiously peeked inside, and when she couldn’t see any signs of people she slunk out from behind the wall and stepped through the archway. The tower itself was more narrow in person than she had expected, maybe fifty meters in diameter. But its height was unfathomable. From where she stood, looking straight up she couldn’t see the top. The tower broke through the clouds above and faded up higher than she could see. It was hard to imagine a tower this narrow could support such immense height and weight.

  The wind whistled around it, and she almost imagined that it gave off a low and quiet hum. In her head the sound made her picture some kind of colossal flute made of stone, stuck into the ground. She began feeling dizzy after a moment of looking up as the clouds moved quickly, flowing around the impossible monument. She looked down and blinked it away, shaking her head. Thunder rolled deeply in the distance.

  In front of her was another regular stone doorway, this one smaller, roughly the size of a regular door. The room that lay beyond was obscured in darkness, and seemed to be empty from what she could tell.

  It was a cold and miserable day, and if someone was there they would surely have had some sort of fire going. Cautiously she made her way inside.

  She blinked at the darkness a few times as her eyes adjusted. She almost cried when she saw what was in front of her. The large circular stone room was cluttered with furniture, decorations, cutlery and crockery, and many other various small signs of life. In the center of the room was a thick wooden pillar that held up the stone roof with large square beams that protruded from it. A thick black coat hung from a large nail. Without hesitation she rushed into the room and threw on the coat. It was lined with wool on the inside, and she groaned and she hugged it tightly to herself. Immediately the felt the warmth spread throughout her body, and she let out a little joyful laugh. It smelt clean too, like flowers, and maybe mint.

  The place looked recently lived in, and there weren’t any signs of a scuffle or a struggle. Everything was neat, but messy in a way that told her that it was still lived in.

  “Hello?” She croaked hoarsely. Her own voice surprised her a little, and she cleared her throat and swallowed dryly. She was thirsty, she remembered. “Hello?” The second attempt was a little clearer. After a moment without a response she sighed and decided she would look around. If someone came back later, she would hope that she was either gone, or that they were kind enough to understand her predicament and let her leave, hopefully with some directions.

  The feeling of something brushing against her leg gave her a shock and she stiffened up. She shot a glance down and saw that a large ginger cat was rubbing itself against her leg. Its loose fur clung to her damp leg uncomfortably, and the cat shook its foot in disapproval and trotted off with an annoyed “ek-ek”. Sellyn followed it with her eyes, watching as it jumped onto the nearby dining table with a squeak before sitting down and cleaning itself where her leg had touched it. From where she stood the table was to her left, and just beyond it there was a fireplace in the wall which currently had no fire. Pots and pans hung from the wall above the fireplace, and a small pile of firewood stood next to it. She scanned the table for any leftover scraps of food, and rejoiced internally when she spotted half a bread roll on a wooden plate. In the center of the table, behind the cat, there was a small wooden bowl which contained one apple, and an iron pot with a closed lid. With a groan she leaned against the table and, reaching over the cat, took the apple and the dried bread.

  She stuffed the apple in the coat pocket and used the free hand to pet the cat while she ripped off pieces of dried bread with her teeth. Despite the dried outer shell the bread was soft and fresh on the inside, and she savoured it gratefully. When the bread was finished she pulled the apple from her pocket and began eating it.

  “What’s your name, huh?” She asked the cat as she chewed, rubbing the scruff of its neck.

  It stood up and mewed, shaking its tail back and forth for a moment before spinning in a circle a few times and sitting down again. It sniffed the air with a squint.

  The dry bread had helped with her hunger and the apple was juicy enough to quench her thirst for the moment, so she pulled a chair from under the table and sat down with a huff. Reaching past the cat she grabbed the pot and pulled it around. She opened it and inspected the contents. It appeared to be a stew of some sort, which smelled deliciously meaty and not at all spoiled.

  The cat turned its head toward the pot and smelled the air excitedly. In the end she decided against eating a stranger’s leftover stew, but she did fish out a small piece of meat, which she gave to the cat. The bread and apple would do for now. She sat quietly, listening to the loud hissing of the wind and trees outside as she tried to recall something, anything. Aside from her name she couldn’t remember anything at all. Not her age, or where she came from, or who she really was. Trying to remember felt like straining a muscle, and after a while she gave up, looking around hopelessly. She had adjusted to the coat, and despite its warmth it was no longer good enough to keep her completely warm. The stone floors were damp and ice cold, and a freezing wind blew through the open door periodically. She got up and shuffled over to the door, closing it with some effort as the damp and swollen wood scraped against the stone. For a moment she thought about locking it, but decided against it, just in case someone came back.

  The fireplace was reasonably dry, aside from the perpetual damp that covered every surface. The wood was damp on the surface too, but would be dry enough to burn if she tried hard enough. Whoever lived here was quite tidy. The firewood was stacked neatly and organised from small strips of kindling to large long-burning logs. A coarse cloth sack leaned against the wood, containing straw and grass to start fires, and a flint hung on a steel ring from a nail above the wood.

  It only took a few moments to get a fire going, and when she was sure it would sustain itself she added a large log before getting up from her haunches and stretching with a loud groan. She felt a little guilty for just making herself at home, but shook it off. She’d rather be a little guilty than a little dead. The cat rubbed up against her leg again and plopped itself down in front of the fireplace. Sellyn smiled at it. It was friendly and well adjusted, and clearly relaxed in its own space despite the rummaging stranger. She hoped that would be a positive indication of the kind of owner it had.

  Despite being warmer and better fed, the many feelings of unease lingered awfully over her. What happened to her? Where was she, and where did she come from? There was also another feeling she struggled to ignore. At first she thought it was because she was cold and unwell, but even now that she was better, the feeling remained. A strange cold feeling hummed or pulsed gently in her head. It felt almost like a headache, except it didn’t hurt. Maybe she was getting sick. Who knows how long she had spent lying in the cold and rain. She had so many burning questions it almost made her feel physically uncomfortable, and she let out an audible moan of disapproval. She shifted her weight and sighed hard, looking around the room aimlessly.

  A pantry-esque shelf caught her eye. It held a few mugs and a large blackened kettle, as well as a few other items like some small jars and dried foods. She walked over, fetched a mug and the kettle, and placed it on the table for a moment before looking around for something to brew. There were a few smaller jars in the pantry shelf containing dried leaves, and she opened them one by one, sniffing them. None smelled like any kind of tea, she thought. Some were floral, and some were peppery. In the end she poured some of the cold water from the kettle into the mug she chose and drank it plainly as it was. After finishing a second cup she took the kettle and cup back to the shelf and placed them where she found them. It was the least she could do.

  There were no other rooms or doors, but instead there was a staircase close by to her right which spiraled up around the room and into the next floor. If there were any beds or clothing it would probably be there, she assumed. That would be a little too much snooping around. The tower itself was surely almost a kilometer tall from what she could tell, and she wondered how many floors it would have, and how many people lived here. Judging by the furniture and other things scattered about it didn’t seem like there were many people here at all.

  She decided that she would go up and have a look. Maybe she could find some clothes that fit her. Again the uncomfortable guilty feeling crept up on her. Wasn’t she just stealing at this point? Maybe the best thing to do would be to wait for someone to get back. If no one came by nightfall, then maybe it would be a bit more acceptable for her to raid their cupboard and leave in the morning before anyone noticed. Or maybe she should hope for people? She huffed indecisively before spinning on her heels and making her way back to the fireplace. There was a large woollen rug on the ground in front of it where that cat had curled up onto. She sat down on the ground next to the cat and it turned its head to look up at her. It blinked slowly in recognition before resting its head again and closing its eyes. She realised as she sat basking in the fire that she was tired too. With a yawn she stretched herself out and folded her legs next to her, laying down and curling up around the cat. It shifted slightly and began purring, unbothered by her cuddling and attention. The rug was soft and warm, the cat too, and soon she felt herself dozing in and out of sleep. Every now and again her body would jolt awake when thunder rolled over the tower, but before she could stop herself, she was asleep for good.

  ——

  She blinked and yawned, stretching her arms out in front of her for a moment before rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Sellyn was sitting on a rocky outcrop overlooking the ocean. Waves splashed against it gently, occasionally spraying her with salty, cold mist. Blinking again, she wiped her face before resting her hand beside her again. She was ten years old. The sun was almost up, the sky glowing a deep, golden orange. Usually waking up early was horrible, and she hated it, especially on birthdays, but today was different. The rocks were starting to feel uncomfortable, and she shifted her weight a little, turning to the side. A sudden cold dread washed over her, like she was supposed to be remembering something. Or like she was supposed to be somewhere else. She felt strange, and shivered as a soft hand brushed her arm.

  “Are you alright sweety?” A kind voice asked from behind her. “Are you cold?”

  She turned and looked at the woman sitting next to her, who was smiling at her and looking down with a warm expression, the morning sun casting a golden hue into her green eyes.

  Her long black hair fell loosely down her shoulders, and she tucked a strand behind her ear. Her mom. Her eyes welled up with tears for some reason. She felt like she hadn’t seen her mom in years, which was silly because she saw her every day. It was her mom who woke her up this morning after all, and she was right there now.

  “I- I’m just feeling weird today…” She said awkwardly. “I keep remembering things about today, but today is new. But also like I forgot they happened. Since I woke up.” She pouted and fumbled with the seam of her dress, her eyes teary. Everything felt a little strange, but she didn’t know what to tell her mom, or how to say the right words.

  Her mother laughed a kind laugh that made her sad again. “That happens sometimes, don’t worry. It happens to me a lot too, and then I feel really sad. Sometimes I'm scared too, like something bad is about to happen, but it never does!” She made an exaggerated sad face and grabbed Sellyn, hugging her tightly.

  Again she felt strange. That inexplicable feeling of longing and sadness filled her, and her chest ached. She grabbed her mom back and hugged her. Her mom smelt like flowers, and the ocean breeze, and she felt her fingers gently run through her hair. After a moment she let go and they looked out at the ocean again.

  Everything felt far away.

  ——

  A vigorous back and forth rocking awoke Sellyn from her deep sleep. She groaned in annoyance and shifted cozily before quickly remembering where she was. With a gasp she sat upright, looking around with wide eyes, her heart immediately beating hard and fast. Turning her head to the side she looked dead into the eyes of… a child? A young girl, maybe ten years old, was sitting on the ground next to her and leaning in closely, their noses almost touching. Her eyes were wide and shining, and she had a big grin on her face. She had long black hair, and hazel green eyes that somehow seemed both green and brown at the same time. A small black mole dotted the side of her nose.

  “Hey lady!” She said excitedly, giving Sellyn yet another fright. “You’re naked!”

  Sellyn heard the crashing of cutlery followed by a woman calling out in an amused yet stern voice. “Aishe!” She looked over and covered herself awkwardly with the coat. A young woman appeared out of the corner of her eye and knelt down next to the young girl. She too had long and wavy black hair that touched the ground and curled up at her feet as she sat on her haunches.

  Intense olive green eyes stared into Sellyn’s, searching with kindness. “I’m so sorry about my daughter.” She started with an awkward laugh, shaking her head as she stood up again. With her left hand she ruffled her daughter’s hair. “She’s very forward, despite my best efforts.” She held out her hand with a smile and Sellyn took it gratefully as she was pulled to her feet.

  The woman squeezed her hand lightly and smiled again. “My name is Cené. The young one’s name is Aishe.”

  Sellyn returned the gesture and gave a quick and awkward look around, still holding on to the woman’s hand. There was no one else, at least not in the room with them. “I’m Sellyn.” She replied with a small smile. “Sellyn Camille.”

  The cat appeared again, brushing against her leg with little yaps, as if to also greet her.

  The woman’s eyes betrayed a small hint of surprise as they widened for a moment. The look was gone as quickly as it came, replaced again by a soft and kind facade. “Oh… a family name too… That’s a beautiful name you have…” Cené smiled. “Where exactly are you from?” The question came out with a hint of nerves.

  Sellyn was surprised for a moment, and she wondered what it was about her family name that made Cené react the way she did. “Oh, I…” Sellyn sighed. She didn’t know. Even now as she tried, nothing at all came to her. The only memory she had was of herself as a child, sitting by the ocean. “I don’t know…” A small lump formed in her throat, and her eyes were burning as she blinked away tears. She felt empty in a way that was difficult to describe. Who was she without memories?

  Cené took a step closer and put her arm around Sellyn. “Well, don’t worry for now.” She said softly. “Let’s get you dressed, I’m sure you must be freezing.”

  Sellyn laughed a dry laugh. “You have no idea…”

  The woman squeezed her a moment before letting go and turning to her daughter.

  “Aishe, you take the lady upstairs. Show her where all my nice clothes are and then come back down and help me prepare dinner, okay?” She smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair.

  Sellyn found the emphasis on “nice” to be very deliberate.

  Aishe grabbed her hand with both of hers, giggled “okay” and pulled Sellyn along the room and up the spiral stairs before she even had a chance to react.

  She followed the young woman with a turn of her head as she went, and the woman followed her with a smile, until their line of sight was broken. The woman, Cené, looked a little worried beneath it all.

  The first floor wasn’t an open plan like the one below. A wall separated the staircase from the rest of the space, and a decently sized corridor led them around the outside of the circular room. Tall rectangular holes were carved into the outer wall, allowing fresh but icy air to blow inward and down the corridor. The woods outside were tall and thick, and she couldn’t see anything outside other than trees. The stone walls and floors were unpleasantly damp and cool, and even the interior cracks held mosses and small plants. Small ferns grew from the corners between the walls and floor in some places. They looked well taken care of, like they were left to grow and thrive on purpose. Brackets with lit torches hung from the inner wall intermittently, wafting and lapping in the wind. On a warmer day, and in the daylight, she imagined it might feel quite dreamlike and cozy.

  After a short walk they reached the door that led into the room Aishe was instructed to bring her to. The corridor carried on around the bend and disappeared into what she assumed would eventually be another staircase.

  “This is my mom’s room.” Aishe said in a matter of fact tone before opening the door and leading Sellyn in.

  The room was semi-cylindrical in shape. The door opened inward against the straight wall that bisected the whole. In the center of the straight wall a fireplace and open hearth was built into it, the pit of which was circular in shape. She could see faintly through it into the room next door. A thick yet hollow pillar jotted from the center of the wall, attached the hearth, serving as a chimney. There was a fire already lit, and logs snapped and popped periodically.

  They passed the center of the curved wall opposite the fireplace, where a large but plain bed frame stood, with tall posts that reached up, almost to the ceiling.

  They held thick dark green curtains which at this moment were open and tied up. The bed itself was made of densely packed straw covered with soft linens. Aishe stopped her and she turned her attention back to the girl. They were standing in front of a large cupboard made of dark wood. Everything she had seen so far from the chairs, to the bed, to the cupboard, was plain but well made.

  “This is my mom’s cupboard with all the nice clothes.” She smiled proudly, her eyes closed and her nose turned up. “You can wear anything you want!”

  “Thank you, Aishe.” Sellyn replied, smiling kindly.

  “How old are you anyway?” Aishe asked abruptly. “You look younger than my mom.”

  Sellyn laughed at the forward question. Cené wasn’t putting it lightly when she said Aishe did that. “Would you believe me if I told you I don’t know?” She raised an eyebrow at the girl.

  Aishe frowned and pursed her lips. “Even I know how old I am, and I’m a child.” She said in a confused, almost pitying tone, like she was talking to a child.

  “Oh? And how old are you? Sellyn giggled.

  “I’m nine.” She proclaimed, placing her fists on her hips and standing up proudly.

  “Oh wow!” Sellyn smiled, acting impressed.

  Cené calling Aishe’s name came up from below them, and Aishe jumped before scrambling out of the room with a giggle, coming back and closing the door, leaving Sellyn suddenly alone. She looked around the room for a moment. It was quite large and spacious for a single person, but that was probably one of the benefits of the tower’s seemingly endless height. What purpose did something like this serve, she wondered.

  The cat brushed against her leg again and meowed at her. She didn’t even notice it following them. It sure did seem to like her, which she liked a lot. It folded back its ears and closed its eyes with a satisfied expression as she scratched the top of its head.

  Its fur was thick and soft, and clean too. When she was done she would have to ask what its name was, so that she could address it properly.

  ——

  Cené’s clothes fit Sellyn quite well. Almost perfectly, in fact. In the end she chose the most modest, least expensive-looking items of clothing she could find; a decent pair of loose undershorts, thick brown stockings of which she wore two pairs due to the cold, a plain but long, ankle length olive green dress, and the most scuffed pair of matching boots she could find. Over top she just wore the same thick padded coat she had fallen asleep in. She didn’t know what she expected when she heard “nice”, but what she found seemed like regular everyday clothes, and she certainly didn’t want to wear anyone’s fineries. For the first time since she woke up in that field she was warm, comfortable, and almost unafraid. The constant underlying knowledge that she had no idea who she was, or where she was, prevented her from being entirely at ease. It was like an itch in the center of her brain that she couldn’t scratch. Even though she was now warm and dry, that strange and cold buzzing feeling still pulsed in her head, spreading throughout her body the longer she focused on it. She promptly stopped focusing on it.

  The muffled and muted sound coming from below of people talking through cooking and other activities drew her attention. She noticed a distinct male voice now, talking in between Cené and Aishe. It sounded calm, at least. Unfortunately she couldn’t make out a word of it. It wasn’t right of her to eavesdrop, anyhow. With a sigh she stood up and took the cat into her arms. It relaxed almost instantly and she flopped its front legs loosely over her left shoulder, cupping its body with her left arm. It purred deeply, the feeling vibrating through her clothes. Smiling at the cat, she walked to the door and left the room.

  The talking grew louder the closer she got, but stopped as soon as the patter of her boots echoed down the stairs. She smiled to herself. They were obviously talking about her, but didn’t want to be rude.

  She coughed intentionally as she made her way down into the living area, a little joke to herself, letting them know she was coming. Everyone was already seated at the table near the center, seemingly waiting for her before they began their meal. Aishe and Cené looked over at her with pleasant but awkward smiles. The man she had heard was seated facing away from her, but turned around when the other two greeted her. He was a handsome man with well set features that showed that he was young but well traveled.

  A thick and well kept beard hid the rest of his features, but his face was kind, and he shared the woman’s olive green eyes. He was chewing on a stick of dried meat when their eyes met, and he raised his hand in greeting, nodding as he chewed. He spoke while chewing hurriedly, his hand covering his mouth awkwardly. “Good evening!” He said before swallowing and taking his hand away. After wiping it on his leg, he held it out to Sellyn, who took it for a moment. “I’m Daryinn.” He said, still chewing a little.

  She smiled politely and squeezed his hand before letting go. “Sellyn Camille. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She gave a little curtsied bow. She didn’t know why.

  The man’s eyes widened and he choked suddenly, coughing and sputtering awkwardly as he shot up out of his chair. It toppled over onto its side behind him. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t realise…” he coughed again, almost bending double.

  Sellyn glanced over to Cené who was looking down at her plate with her hand in front of her mouth, evidently trying not to laugh. Whatever the problem was with her name, Cené evidently did not relay it to Daryinn, seemingly on purpose. Aishe was laughing wholeheartedly. She wondered what on earth was going on.

  Daryinn cleared his throat and blushed. “My apologies.” He said, sounding awkwardly formal. A giggle escaped Cené, and Sellyn was beginning to feel like part of the joke, rather than the audience.

  He continued. “I didn’t realise our company was a lady. Please…” he gestured to the empty seat next to him before moving the chair for her and waiting patiently.

  Sellyn looked at them with a raised eyebrow as she took her seat. He pushed it in as she sat down and made his way back to his own. “Are you three… joking with me?” She asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

  They stopped smiling and looked at one another, clearly very confused.

  “N-no…?” Daryinn replied, a frown furrowing his brow.

  Now Sellyn was even more confused than before. She thought maybe they were joking about her being a lady, since she was quite literally the opposite. “Well, in that case I’m a little unsure what the joke is. I saw how you reacted earlier when I told you my name, too.” She smiled at Cené. “I lost my memory, you see. I’m afraid other than my name I don’t know much about anything. Including why it would be such a surprising one.”

  “Ah…” Daryinn sighed. “That makes a little more sense, I suppose.”

  Both he and Cené looked equally relieved. Aishe didn’t care about the adult talk, and was eating away happily. Sellyn wanted to eat, too, but neither Daryinn or Cené were eating. She could wait.

  Cené cleared her throat. “I didn’t tell him you had a family name because I knew he would get all flustered like that, I’m sorry.” Cené laughed to herself. “The thing is, the only people who had family names were—“

  A loud banging on the door interrupted Cené, and everyone at the table jumped.

  “Aishe, go upstairs.” Daryinn said immediately in a firm tone. Without argument or hesitation Aishe took her food and quickly made her way upstairs. Cené gave Sellyn a concerned glance and made her way upstairs after Aishe. Daryinn turned to Sellyn. “No matter what they ask you, or how much they pry, if they do, do not let them know you have a family name.

  You are a traveler that fell ill and we are taking care of you.” Before she could ask questions he got up and made his way to the door.

  Another loud bang came again, louder this time than the last, and Sellyn watched as Daryinn opened the door. A man as tall as Daryinn but more muscular made his way into the room without invitation or greeting. He closed the door behind him, as if this was something he was used to. The man had a dark and sour expression on his face, and he looked around the room with a deep frown. When his eyes met Sellyn’s he smiled before turning to Daryinn again.

  “Our little brother has been wondering how you’ve been.” The man began. “He’s starting to think you don’t care about us anymore.” His voice was coarse and deep.

  Daryinn sighed and shook his head. “You know how the weather has been. It’s three days’ travel on a good day, and we’ve been stocked well for the season. It’s nothing like that, brother, you know that.”

  The man laughed and took a step forward, hugging Daryinn and patting him on the shoulder. “I know, I know. But you know how he is. His position comes first.”

  Daryinn smiled and sighed with what seemed like relief. “It’s good to see you.” He glanced over at Sellyn with an expression that showed that she could relax a little. The man turned to follow his eyes and locked onto her again. He was perceptive. This was the second time, and he was more than watching her. From behind him, Daryinn levelled his hand and tipped it back and forth in a “so-so” motion.

  The man began walking toward her. “And who might this be? This pretty lady sure isn’t Cené! You haven’t found yourself a wife and kept her a secret, have you?” He laughed.

  He was speaking to Daryinn, but his eyes were fixed on her. She wasn’t sure if she liked him yet. He gave her an uncomfortable feeling that she couldn’t shake. Like his presence was grating and pressing against the strange feeling in her head, making it feel like there was a pressure in her skull.

  Her heart was racing for some reason. This man had a physical presence that extended beyond his body. He stopped in front of her and held out his hand with a smile.

  “I’m Sellyn.” She said, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m a trave—“ When their hands touched a sharp pain shot through her arm, starting at her fingers, flowing up and into her neck, ending in the back of her skull. It felt like a single needle was slowly pumping through her veins. The man smiled and squeezed gently before letting go, and the feeling vanished. If he felt it too it didn’t show on his face, he just smiled politely. She cleared her throat. “I was traveling through the area, but this weather has made me sick. Daryinn has been kind enough to let me rest up here.”

  “Good to meet you, Sellyn.” The man bowed and cleared his throat. “My name is Cenord. I’m Daryinn’s younger brother.”

  Younger? Sellyn was surprised. He was both larger and more rugged than Daryinn, and quite fearsome now that she saw him up close. His hair was cut short at the back and sides, greying in a gradient from his rugged beard, fading to black on top of his head. He stood tall and proud, hands behind his back, almost like he was standing at attention. The lines on his face were deep and serious, and showed a lifetime of hard battle. Small light scars littered his face, but one deep gash stood out among the others. A bulging and pink scar ran from the corner of his left eye down the side of his face, vanishing behind his ear. It looked reasonably new. He looked older than Daryinn in every possible way.

  He caught her staring, and he softened his face with a half hearted smile before turning on his heels, talking to Daryinn again as he paced around the room. “Strangweard wants to go hunting soon.”

  Daryinn sighed and shook his head. “You know how I feel about him. That’s why I moved out here. I don’t know why you bother telling me every time.”

  Cenord laughed heartily. “I know. But it’s a big one this time, and it’s been seen in the woods nearby.” He grinned wide.

  Sellyn thought she caught him shooting her a glance. “I thought I’d at least tell you about it.”

  “I appreciate the warning, brother.” Daryinn replied reluctantly. “Anyway, you didn’t come all the way out here just to tell me that, did you?”

  “No. But yes. Strangweard sent me to tell you. I know the answer is the same, but the request isn’t from me. He had some choice words, but, well…”

  Daryinn sighed again. Sellyn didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but she knew immediately that there was tension between the brothers.

  “Cené and Aishe are still avoiding me, I see?” Cenord said softly.

  “I asked them to go up.” Daryinn replied honestly. “I thought there’d be more trouble about Sellyn, I didn’t know you were alone. I know how our brother can get about outsiders. They’ve seen enough of, well…”

  Cenord stretched a moment before letting out a long sigh and chuckling to himself. “I’m never here alone, brother. You should know that by now.” He looked over to Sellyn for a moment before walking over to Daryinn, placing his hand on his shoulder. He spoke loudly, almost as if he was addressing Sellyn without saying as much. “I’d encourage you to make the journey to town with Sellyn when she’s well again. I won’t do myself the disservice of keeping quiet about her. It would be better for you both if you showed the initiative. We’re going hunting in a week. Try and get it done before then, otherwise he might just make a detour and come here himself.”

  Daryinn took a step back. “One day, Cenord… that boy—“

  Cenord walked to the door as Daryinn spoke but stopped just before he opened it and turned to face Daryinn again. “Tell my sister I love her, won’t you?”

  “Tell her yourself next time. Come alone, as a brother, and not as…” Daryinn cut himself off.

  Cenord turned to Sellyn and smiled. “My apologies for talking as though you’re not here. Sometimes family can be… difficult.

  I hope you can forgive me.” He opened the door and stepped through. “Good evening.”

  Daryinn closed the door behind him and slammed the bolt before turning to face Sellyn. He fell back against the door with a sigh, running a hand through his hair and then placing a finger on his lips, indicating for her to remain quiet. The sound of muddy hooves faded into the distance and was gone.

  Without warning he stomped quickly up to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, his eyes wide. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow and he shook her as he spoke.

  “Please tell me now. Can you use magic!?”

  Sellyn couldn’t help but burst into a laugh despite Daryinn’s visible distress. She brushed his hands off of her shoulders and got up, creating a little space between them. “Magic?” She laughed again. “Like, witches and faeries?”

  Daryinn’s expression didn’t change, in fact, he looked even more worried than before. “Please, Sellyn. I’m not making jokes right now.”

  She frowned deeply, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, I—“ with a deep sigh she pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “Daryinn, when I say I lost my memory I mean it. I still know basic things obviously, like language, or I don’t know… how to dress myself? I know what magic is, vaguely, but I don’t know if I have any of that.” She laughed again. “The first thing that comes to mind is still just faeries. Are faeries real?”

  Daryinn ignored her joke question and paced for a moment. “Cené! You can come down.” He gave Sellyn a nervous look and a small smile before heading toward the fireplace and adding a large log to the coals. “And yes.” He said over his shoulder while he poked at the log.

  “Yes, faeries?” Sellyn asked, holding back another laugh.

  She heard the patter of bare feet on stone and turned around just as Cené reached the bottom of the stairs. She was changed into a plain white nightgown and thick woolly sweater and her long black hair hung loosely down to her hips. With a small smile she nodded at Sellyn and made her way over to the table. When she reached it she put Aishe’s empty bowl and plate down and pushed Sellyn’s plate over toward her, sitting down.

  “I’m sure you’re starving by now.” She said nervously. “Please, go ahead.”

  “Thank you.” Sellyn replied, “But I’ll eat later. I’ve been stunned by faeries.” There was simply too much going on right now for her to be able to enjoy the food at all, despite her hunger. “What exactly happened tonight?” She asked, brushing off the ridiculous discussion in favour of more important things.

  A white flash came with a strike of lightning that made her jump with fright, and a cold surge pulsed suddenly through her head and was gone. Somewhere outside in the nearby woods, a tree was struck. There was a distant and drawn out creaking and cracking as the tree fell, followed by a muted rumble and thud.

  In a short moment, heavy rain began falling again, filling the previously silent night air with a gentle hiss. The fireplace crackled intermittently, and Daryinn made his way to the table while Cené spoke.

  “I’ll have to tell you a little bit about the history around here.”

  ——

  II

  “My name is Sellyn Camille.”

  “About two hundred years ago there was a magical war that spread throughout the lands and changed the world we live in forever. It started in the old northern capital. The war was started by a mage, a man who was a noble head of the capital’s ruling families, and a close friend to the king.

  During his time among the ruling class he amassed a small, secret following of extremely powerful and dedicated mages and sorcerers. They took up many different positions and roles in everyday society. To him, the power of the person was far more important than simply having noble blood, and he spent a long time choosing people who could use magic from all parts of society. He sent them throughout the content, into small towns, trading posts, military installations and so on, disguised as peasants or guards, or whatever they needed to be. For years he built a secret army, building his own supply routes using mages moonlighting as traders and travelers. Some even worked their way up to positions of power and influence in small towns.

  The signal to begin their coup was the murder of the king himself. He was killed publicly while addressing a small crowd. His friend, the great mage, simply walked up to him as he was speaking and… well… there wasn’t much left of him. No one had imagined such a thing would ever happen. He was a good king. Before that day there was no social unrest, no conflict between people of magic or anyone else, but all at once, his cult of magic began taking over towns and villages even before the news of the king’s death could spread.

  For a short time they managed to control the population due to the sudden shock, and the speed at which they took over. But the people were betrayed, and would not submit for long. The war that followed was long and pointless like all wars are, and most of the death and destruction came purely as collateral from mages or sorcerers fighting one another toward the end. Most magical people were just normal people who could use magic. They were no better or worse than anyone else was, and they had never used their magic to leverage a position of power.

  The majority of mages weren’t a part of the plans and resisted the coup, fighting hard to defend the common people from their own kind.

  But when the fighting peaked, the true potential of magic in human hands became clear. Whole villages were levelled in battles between just two people. As the war intensified, the goal was no longer to save people, but simply to end one side or the other at any and all costs. Even in the hands of our defenders, magic was destroying our world.

  After twenty years of senseless fighting and destruction the final blow was dealt to the new rulers when the mage who killed the king met his end at the hands of a sorceress. The battle lasted days and destroyed the capital, killing thousands. To this day it stands empty, its stones blackened by magic and fire. A monument to the dangers of magic.

  After the war was done and all the remaining aggressors were imprisoned or killed, a new age of peace began. But it came at a great, and shameful cost. The population was decimated. The mages and sorcerers who had defended the people were few. Most had died in battle, some fled to other lands. In the end, only ten remained here.”

  “Ten!” Sellyn interjected accidentally. That was the death of almost all magical people!

  “Those ten were powerful, and worked diligently alongside the remaining free people to fix what those before had destroyed. It took ten years to rebuild the nation and regain the trust of the people. But then…” Cené sighed. “When the final plans were drawn, and peace was announced, people who were chosen to lead this new nation came together in secret that same night and… killed the last remaining people of magic. That night, the Age of Magic as we knew it ended. After coming to terms with, and fixing, the destruction that magic had brought to a once beautiful and peaceful world, they had decided that ten mages was ten too many.

  Never again would one person hold such power, no matter the cost. And now we call it the Second Age of Peace. A pitiful lie held together by ignorance.”

  Sellyn frowned for a moment, pursing her lips. “That’s… horrifying. All those people in such a short time. But… what does that have to do with me? Or with what happened tonight?”

  Cené went on. “Before the war, family names were something only nobles had. A noble named Sellyn would obviously deserve more recognition and distinction than a peasant's daughter named Sellyn. During the brief period when mages and sorcerers held the seat of power, they took that further. Magic was the absolute, and deserved the absolute respect and distinction.

  Only people of magic were allowed to carry a family name. It was the new true pinnacle of status and power. Noble people were now just people, and their names and blood no longer carried weight or worth. Over time, family names faded from use entirely, and we went back to older ways of giving names that carried their own meaning. Distinct family names have been dead for at least a hundred years.

  Sellyn Camille isn’t just a name you’re saying. It’s not an introduction, it’s a proclamation from the old world. “I am, and you are not.”

  Sellyn was taken aback.

  Suddenly she had far too many questions. “Why ask me if I can use magic, then, if it was eradicated long ago?” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Is there truly no one else who still uses family names?”

  Knowing nothing and then suddenly having a two hundred year abbreviated history of the world told to her in under two minutes didn’t help at all.

  Cené got up and went to check on the kettle, which everyone had forgotten about.

  She turned at the fireplace and spoke. “Daryinn will take over from here, I’ll go make us some tea. Please, at least snack on something small while we talk, for my sake.” She laughed a small laugh.

  Sellyn smiled and nodded, reaching for some dried meat that sat in a bowl on the table.

  Daryinn did the same, and they both snacked as he spoke.

  “Magic itself is not eradicated, and cannot ever be.” Daryinn sighed, a sad expression slowly forming as he stared down at the table. “It’s not a tangible thing we can interact with or understand, especially not anymore. Non-sentient magical creatures, plants, elements and things like that continue to exist and change. There’s an important distinction to make when it comes to people who have magic, however.

  Mages, or whatever people choose to call them, acquired their magic through study. They got to know the world around them, interact with magical beings and creatures, and learn to understand what magic is through experience. There are no mages, because becoming one requires acquiring knowledge that has been long shunned and forgotten.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Even the collection and study of magical things is forbidden, except for a few instances that don’t matter now."

  Cené appeared from behind him with four mugs tucked into the fingers of one hand and the steaming kettle in the other. She reached over and placed everything on the table before walking off again, toward the pantry next to the stairs.

  Daryinn continued. “Sorcery is entirely different. Sorcerers are still born to this day, and they are as natural as any magical plant or animal in their existence. Sorcerers are born with the natural and permanent ability to feel and use magic as soon as they become old enough to grasp it. Almost always that comes with a calamity. An awakened child that has a small moment of anger would kill a parent, or a pet… or burn down a village if they’re powerful.” He sighed and shook his head.

  “If someone like that is born and their magic awakens, no matter the age, they are… killed. It is simply law.”

  Sellyn’s stomach tensed up and she clenched her fists. “So you suspect I can do magic? And at the end of the day, you're telling me that if I came across someone else instead of you, there was a chance they might just have killed me based solely on how I introduced myself!?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Cené sighed as she sat at the table again. “The glorious age of peace.” She laughed cynically and shook her head. “And to answer your other question, no one has used a family name since those days. And, to be honest, no one now would think to do it. Not even as a joke.”

  Sellyn was reeling. What an insane world she found herself in. She wondered if she thought any of this was normal, before she lost her memories? It certainly didn’t seem normal to her now. “And why aren’t you killing me, then?” She asked, a sudden and intense anxiety flooding her chest. What if they still would kill her? But, why would they have clothed and fed her?

  Daryinn smiled softly.

  ——

  A moment of silence hung in the air. The soft rain created a soothing and constant hiss, barely audible in the background. Somewhere in the room, droplets of water fell from the damp ceiling onto stone floors. The fire in the hearth was finally making the place warm inside.

  She wanted to take her jacket off, but she was frozen in awe. Sellyn’s mouth hung open. Daryinn was looking back at her with a faint smile of amusement. With a chuckle she leaned back in her chair and ran her hands through her hair before sliding her cup of tea off of the table and carefully putting it in her lap. “Does Aishe know? That she’s… well what would you call it, a sorceress?”

  Daryinn cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t call it anything, preferably.” He smiled to himself. “I don’t think she knows. If she does, she's hiding it well because she knows what it means.”

  “How do you two know?” She asked, surprised. “When did you find out? What happened? She told me she’s nine, that seems like a lot of time to hide something this serious.”

  Cené laughed to herself. “The short answer is that we’ve lived out here since before she was born, so when she had her… incident… no one but us were around. Her father was still here at the time, and Daryinn still lived in town with the rest of the family.”

  If there was such a thing as fate, it must have been on her side, just a little. She could have come across anyone else and possibly died due to her name alone, but instead she met these people. Even if she couldn’t use magic, they treated her well despite thinking she could. “What was the incident? If that’s alright to ask?”

  Daryinn laughed and leaned back in his chair. “William!” He called out from over his shoulder. Almost immediately the cat appeared, jumping into the table with little meows and squeaks, looking around excitedly. It looked around for a moment and walked over to Daryinn, jumping into his lap and spinning in a circle a few times before sitting down. It looked pleased, its ears back and its eyes closed as it kneaded his lap.

  “This cat died four years ago, of old age.” He said with a casual smile as he scratched its head. “Aishe brought it back to life.” It responded with a little “ek” as if it was a part of the conversation.

  A snort of disbelief escaped Sellyn, and she shook her head, rolling her eyes behind her hand as she cupped her face. Out of everything she’d learned today, that was the most unbelievable one. A child bringing things back from the dead. She could only imagine the kind of reaction that would evoke in people. She was lost for words.

  “It wasn’t a small incident.” Cené interjected. “It nearly killed her.” She frowned as she raised her cup and took a sip of tea. Sellyn could tell that what happened to Aishe had upset her greatly.

  “She was only five years old. I don’t know what she did or what she was thinking, but it’s almost like she tried to give her life to the cat.” She took another sip of tea. “We found them both on the verge of death, just outside in the woods nearby. Aishe didn’t wake up for almost two weeks. If she had stayed unconscious much longer, malnourishment would have killed her.”

  “Am I putting you in danger by being here?” Sellyn asked. It came to her suddenly. The discussion Daryinn and his brother had replayed in her head. “Your brother seemed… concerned about me being here. Why is it important for me to go to town and introduce myself?”

  Daryinn and Cené exchanged uncomfortable looks for a moment. He shifted in his chair and sighed. “You’re not putting us in danger directly, not yet. But…” he sighed again. “You have to go to town. If you don’t, then you could.”

  “Okay, but why?” Sellyn asked again, a little frustrated. She was actually extremely frustrated with not knowing anything, and having to ask “why” after every discussion, like a child gaining self awareness. Well… she was, she thought.

  “My family are the founders of our small village. It’s too much to tell now, but the short of it is that my youngest brother is the village head. Out of everyone in our family he was the most like our father. He’s cold, uncompromising, paranoid, and above all, he despises magic. When he was… too young, a sorcerer killed our father while trying to escape.” He cleared his throat and finished his tea before carrying on. “All outsiders must be tested to see if they are secretly hiding magic, and those that do are immediately killed, as you know. It was a law put in place after the war, but none have enforced it as diligently and fiercely as he has.”

  “So you want me to go to the village and be “tested” with the chance that I get killed on a whim?” Sellyn laughed, putting her cup on the table before getting up to take off her coat. “Why don’t I just leave and go somewhere else?”

  “There’s nowhere else to go, Sellyn.” Cené replied with a soft tone. “I understand you don’t know where you are either, but there truly is nowhere else to go. The next village is almost a ten day journey if you take the good roads, which all lead through our village. It’s almost twice as long through the woods, and there are no places to get supplies between here and there if you don’t know the way.”

  “And I can’t stay here, because your younger brother will immediately tell your youngest. That’s what he meant, isn’t it?” Sellyn was beginning to feel worried, and along with her fear, that strange feeling in her brain grew and pulsed. It wasn’t a headache, and it wasn’t a cold. Was it… no. It couldn’t be.

  “I will go with you.” Daryinn interjected quickly. “I’ll take you, and stand as a witness. The journey will take maybe two days or so, that’s enough time to come up with a story together.”

  “You said I would be tested, though? What does that mean?” She was still worried, and now her old fear came creeping up again. What if he betrayed her? Could this all be a plan to lure her into town and kill her anyway, as a way to protect Aishe?

  “It’s obscenely simple, yet obsolete in its truth. The cellar of the village hall is a basic square stone room. In the center is an ancient stone with a bluish clear crystal growing from it. All you have to do is touch the crystal for about a minute. If you’re a normal person nothing happens, but if you have magic within you the crystal emits a white light. I’ve only seen a test once. Unfortunately that day, the person failed and was executed. I never attended a test again.”

  Sellyn was now thoroughly terrified. It was brutally simple. If she touched the stone and it lit up, her life ended immediately. There had to be a way to leave before it came to that. “How many people are in this village? Can’t I disguise myself and buy some supplies discreetly?”

  “There are about a hundred people, a little over that. It’s small,” he chuckled to himself, “everyone knows everything, about everyone.”

  “Except Aishe.” Sellyn replied. “I need to leave. I can’t take the test.”

  Daryinn’s head shot up in surprise, his eyes wide. “Why not…”

  “I don’t know enough about myself! What if I can use magic? Am I automatically a bad person worthy of death!? You know exactly why.”

  She pointed at the ceiling, where she assumed Aishe was asleep upstairs. “I can’t stake my entire life on something as easy as touching a stone. I don’t know myself, but I can feel that I am not a bad person, and I don’t want to die.”

  Cené got up and walked over to her, taking her hands. The gesture took her by surprise and she took a small step back. Her eyes were soft and kind, and she smiled sadly at Sellyn. “At most, we have four days. Give us some time to think, and work out a plan, alright? We won’t let you die if we can prevent it. I promise.”

  ——

  Sellyn was panting heavily, her clothes clammy and sticking to her skin. Her feet were heavy with thick layers of mud and grass and they were wet and cold inside her shoes. Everything was uncomfortably damp from the fine misting of rain that had been perpetually falling for almost three days. She was cold, dirty, and miserable. But above all, she was afraid. Her heart raced and ached in her chest, every step bringing her one step closer to the village gate. In the end there truly was no way to safely travel around it, and her and Daryinn were now just a few steps away from her fate.

  They had come up with a small story for her. She was sailing on a small ship around the southern coast when the weather turned. The ship crashed ashore and wrecked, leaving her stranded and without a memory. It was the easiest story to use that could cover her unfamiliarity with the world. Not that any of it mattered. Once she touched the stone she would either live or die, and there was no point in thinking about it too much beyond that.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the gate was unguarded. It was more of a wooden arch than a gate.

  It had no doors or walls, and mainly served as an official entrance, she guessed. Daryinn stopped her once they went through.

  “We’re going straight to the hall and getting it done, it’s just easier that way, before a crowd gathers.” He gave her a smile that she could see was feigned. “I’ll fight for you, if I have to.” He said firmly, placing his hand on a dagger he had at his waist.

  Sellyn laughed nervously. “Dont be ridiculous. Why would you have to fight for me?”

  Daryinn sighed and looked at the ground. “I told you, my youngest brother is…” He frowned a moment. “After our father was killed by a traveling sorcerer who tried to escape execution after the test, our mother… she died of illness. He harbors a hatred for magic deeper than most people. He and Cenord are hard, for different reasons, but Strangweard… he was always coddled and treated differently. He’s turned out exactly the way you’d expect a spoiled child harbouring hatred to turn out. He believes, with unshakeable certainty, that magic is evil.”

  Sellyn’s confidence in the test was already low, but now it was almost entirely gone. It didn’t sound like there would be much room for negotiation, if there ever was any at all. Was she really just walking straight to her death. Was magic this terrible?

  “Too many people have failed the test. Sometimes, I question whether Strangwaer just enjoys the power that comes with it. If I watched you die today, what would that mean? I would fight for Aishe. It would make me a hypocrite to do anything else for anyone else but what I know is right.” He squeezed her shoulder firmly and began walking with her.

  A strange feeling of butterflies flooded her stomach. What he said was so… noble. She knew then, he was a good man. If more people thought the way he did, it could surely change the world. “I’m glad you’re one of the first people I've met.” She said, smiling to herself. “You’re a great man. If I die today, at least I got to meet one.”

  Daryinn chuckled to himself. “I’d have more than settled for being called good.” He shook his head.

  It really was a small village. There were very few buildings and quite a bit of open space between them. The sound of the ocean came faintly through the rain. An unkempt rocky path led down the left to the shoreline a few hundred meters below. She was suddenly grateful for the miserable weather as she noticed there were very few people around. Most were likely indoors, keeping dry and warm. Only fools would travel two days in the rain. And all that to possibly get killed. She almost wanted to laugh. In no time they had made their way to the center of the little village.

  Daryinn sighed. “Here we are.”

  The “hall” was a lot smaller than she expected, and was more like a medium sized double story longhouse. The ground floor was made of stone, clearly aged and weathered, and the top floor was made of wood, and much newer. It was so small compared to what she had imagined, that it didn’t even have a small awning at its entrance to keep rain from the door. Daryinn knocked on the door and almost immediately it swung open. A tall figure blocked the light from the inside and looked down on them. It was Cenord. He looked the two over with a surprised expression. “You came. Huh. He’s been waiting… ” He said casually, rolling his eyes before turning around and walking in without saying anything else.

  Daryinn stopped Sellyn from going in and went in before her, gesturing with his hand behind his back for her to follow. She did so quickly, her heart fluttering.

  The inside of the hall looked much like the outside; plain, simple, and undecorated. A large rectangular open hearth stood in the center of the open plan room, heating and illuminating it well. The second story was more of a loft that allowed a view of the main floor.

  Empty wooden chairs stood between stone benches that sat along the walls against either side. Cenord and another man stood on either side of the door and closed it behind her as she walked in.

  On the other side of the hall opposite the hearth was a small wooden platform with a large stone seat in the center and two normal seats on either side. A young man sat in the middle, looking through the fire at them. He couldn’t have been older than nineteen, his face boyish and soft. Aside from the five of them, the hall stood empty. Cenord came and stood next to her, touching her elbow lightly as a sign that she should walk onward. She complied and they walked around the hearth, coming to a stop in front of the young man. He had short brown hair that was cut strangely, similar to a monk. Up close it was hard to tell that he was a man at all, and if his hair were long she could easily have confused him for another one of Daryinn’s sisters.

  “How unlike you.” He said in a spiteful tone. His voice wasn’t very deep either, and he spoke with the inflection a spoiled child has when he doesn’t get his way. “I never thought you would bring me a witch.”

  Sellyn’s heart dropped. Why would he be saying that already? Was he just that spiteful?

  “I have done no such thing.” Daryinn replied sharply. “We all know the law. You don’t have to make it your little game.”

  Cenord gave an amused huff next to Sellyn and shook his head.

  The young man however, looked furious. “As bitter as ever, Daryinn.” He said, his mouth turned down in disgust. “Nothing has changed.”

  “As petty and bloodthirsty as ever, little brother Strangweard.” Daryinn replied, a spiteful tone of his own coming through. “Take us to the chamber and let’s get this over with. I’m not playing your game of king’s court.”

  Strangweard shot up. “I lead this village!” He said loudly, his voice cracking and raising, immediately destroying any semblance of respectability he was trying to adorn.

  He cleared his throat, turning red from embarrassment. She thought he was rather pathetic. Why would anyone put up with a child like this. “We will do this as I choose to do it!”

  “Yes, yes.” Daryinn waved him off and sighed. “It’s just family here today. I’m not putting up the pretense.” He turned to Cenord. “Please brother.”

  “Do not ignore me!” Strangweard yelled. “You will show me the respect worthy of my position.”

  Without saying anything Daryinn walked up the small wooden platform and right up to Strangweard, who sat back down and shrank into his seat, his eyes wide. “And I am telling you as the eldest, brother, I will give you respect equal to what you deserve, and not one ounce more.” He loomed over him, his fists balled. Sellyn couldn’t help but smile a small smile.

  Cenord walked forward and put his hand on Daryinn’s shoulder. “Come brother.” He said calmly. “I must do my duty too. Please, leave the boy.”

  Sellyn was completely appalled by this young man’s attitude. She truly did wonder how he could end up as the head of the family, when two clearly more capable and better men stood right in front of him. It’s like they were allowing a child to play pretend, but at the cost of lives.

  Cenord turned to her. “Come. I’m sure this is even more unpleasant for you than for any of us.”

  Without saying anything in return she walked up onto the platform and stood next to Daryinn and Cenord. Strangweard was looking at her like she was a rabid dog he was eager to put down. “Cenord has already told me about you, witch.” His mouth was turned in disgust and his brow was furrowed deeply. Dark, almost black eyes looked widely and madly up at her.

  She had never felt more judged or hated. It stirred something inside her, inside that cold and uncomfortable feeling that spread and pulsed throughout her. Her whole body was humming with restraint.

  This… boy… knew nothing about her, but she could tell he despised her. Something Cené said about her name struck her like a bolt of lightning, and the way this man looked at her made it scream inside her head; “I am, and you are not!”

  “Cenord told you about me?” She asked, containing herself, He was even worse and more petulant than Daryinn could have described. She clenched her jaw.

  “Oh, you’ve already failed, long ago.” Strangwaer smiled sadistically. “We have many other ways of knowing, long before thy come to the Testing Stone.”

  Her heart sank. She thought back on the moment Cenord touched her hand, and the feeling it gave her. Had they tested her then, already?

  It was already over, and she understood that. Whatever happened next, she would accept. But if she were to die today, it would be as herself, whatever that meant. She straightened her back and stood tall and proud, taking one step toward Strangweard. With a smile she held out her hand, as if gesturing for him to take it in greeting. “Well, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She brought her hand closer to him mockingly, smiling wider. She was going to die today anyway. She could see he had made up his mind. At least this way, Daryinn didn’t have to fight. “My name is Sellyn Camille.”

  Daryinn grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around hard, fingers digging into her. His eyes were wide with disbelief. “What are you doing!?” He hissed.

  She smiled at him. Before she could say anything a blow to the back of her head rocked her and sent her to her knees. Immediately her ears were ringing and her mouth began to water. She was seeing double, and everything was fading in and out of a fog. She could hear people arguing, but she couldn’t make out any of the words. She heard a scuffled and the muted sound of fighting. Another sudden blow to her stomach sent her forward and she doubled onto the ground, heaving and wrenching. The ringing in her ears was replaced with a pulsing hum, like her heart was beating in her ears. A cold and uncomfortable pressure began growing in her head, slowly spreading throughout her arms and down her torso. A voice in her head was screaming at her. “Fight. Kill them. Save yourself.”

  The dull sound of scuffling and shouting grew duller, and she vaguely thought she felt herself getting dragged along by her ankles. Her vision was coming in and out of blackness, and she felt her breath slow and shorten. She had been struck hard, and was probably concussed. Her body bobbed down steps, arms dragging along behind her as she listlessly tried clawing at something. A rush of ice cold water followed by a hard slap shocked her out of her daze, and she looked around wildly.

  She was in a small stone room lit up by a single torch. In front of her was a large mossy rock that resembled a pillar, atop of which sat a jagged clear crystal with a blueish hue. Only Cenord and Strangweard were in the room with her.

  The door behind her was closed and bolted, Daryinn’s desperate knocking rattling it on its hinges.

  “Not so high and mighty now?” Strangweard asked mockingly, suddenly coming from behind her and striking her in the ribs. Sellyn winced but when the blow landed she realised it was weak and it barely hurt. “What kind of fool would not only expose themselves, but use that name to do it!” He struck her in the ribs again, a little harder this time, but he truly was utterly weak. A laugh escaped her, despite her best efforts. He scoffed and instead struck her hard in the face with a fist. This time it hurt, and she felt that she had bit her cheek. She swallowed the blood. Her body hummed and begged to fight, not just survive, but fight.

  Cenord grabbed her by the hair and dragged her toward the stone, throwing her weakly against it with a reluctant sigh. It collided with her stomach and knocked the wind out of her. And…

  The crystal on top of the stone erupted with a piercing, bright white light the moment she made contact with it.

  It illuminated the room as though it were exposed to midday sunlight, and the tips of the crystal shards growing from the main branch hummed and sang in a high pitch as the room filled with warmth. Lights of all shapes and colours emerged on the walls. She smiled to herself despite the pain, now unafraid. Magic. At least she got to feel what it felt like before she died. She tried getting up, clawing at the pillar of stone, but she was pulled away and hit hard in the stomach. Hard enough to double her over and bring her to her knees. She threw up on the ground, some landing on her legs. Tears welled up in her eyes, her body begging. “Fight. You can fight.”The sound of steel rang through the air as a sword was drawn. “You’re going to die. You’re a fool. You can kill them. Kill them!”

  She heard the sword sing as it swooped down on her.

  ——

  III

  “Guilt isn’t penance.”

  Sellyn ran the fingers of her right hand through her hair, flinching a little when they got stuck in some knotted strands. A cool breeze blew through her evening gown, sending a shiver through her. The sun would be up soon, and the weather was more than fair. It was the first time since she could remember that she looked up at the sky and actually saw it for what it was. It was beautiful. A dark reddish orange was breaking through the deep violet of the evening, and stars still hung brightly in the sky.

  She leaned on the balcony with a sigh and looked down on the city. It was alive and buzzing with noise and laughter, music and dancing. The air smelled like smoke, and food. From where she stood the people flowed and moved past and around each other like ants carrying crumbs of light. Happiness. For the first time in decades. The first time in her life.

  An arm slid softly around her waist, and then another. Someone was holding her gently, their chin resting on her shoulder. She looked down at herself. Soft pale arms, dotted here and there with black freckles wrapped around her, and long black hair hung over her shoulder. Sellyn’s left arm was missing, the stump covered in thick, rough scars that ran up her body and neck, like they were licked by flames. Suddenly it gave her a phantom ache, something she hadn’t had in years.

  “Are you alright?” The voice asked softly. “You’ve been quiet.”

  Sellyn smiled to herself and held the woman’s arm with her hand, it was soft, and warm. Its smoothness a sharp contrast to her course, battle weathered hand. “I’m enjoying the celebrations. We’ve never seen anything like this.” She looked back out over the people. “People were happy when the war ended, but this…”

  The arms around her tightened. “It’s all because of you.” The woman said, nuzzling her chin into Sellyn’s neck.

  “No.” Sellyn replied. It was a painful kind of joy. The kind filled with guilt and regret. “But I don’t want to think about that tonight. We can mourn tomorrow.” She squeezed the arm that held her. “Meiya.”

  “Yes, dear?” She replied, one hand slipping away from Sellyn’s waist.

  “I love you.” She reached her arm up over her shoulder and ran it through the woman’s hair. “And I’m glad I’ll get to see the sun rise on the first day of peace with you.” Sellyn smiled to herself as she watched the sun peek over the horizon.

  “I’m so sorry…” Meiya replied, her voice soft and broken. Was she crying?

  “Why wou—“

  A sharp and searing pain shot up Sellyn’s spine and down her legs and she groaned, leaning forward against the balcony. She looked down at herself and gasped with pain and grief. Blood was pouring from her abdomen, the tip of a short sword protruding from her ribs, below her heart. Meiya’s free arm wrapped around her tightly as the sword was pulled free, hot pain pulsing through her followed by a relief in pressure. She groaned, a scared laugh escaping her as blood began oozing and pumping from the wound, running down her body, falling on the ground in gushes and splatters. She lost feeling in her legs and slumped over, confused and reeling from pain. Meiya caught her and slowly sank to the ground, holding her tightly, sobbing. Sellyn coughed, every breath bringing immense pain, filling her left lung with blood. Tears filled her eyes. “Meiya…” she began. Speaking took effort.

  “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…” Meiya sobbed over her shoulder. Her long black hair was covering Sellyn’s face, and Meiya’s tears were falling onto her chest. “I love you… I’m so sorry…”

  Sellyn grabbed weakly at her face, slipping on her own blood, wheezing and coughing.

  Finally, Sellyn’s eyes met Meiya’s, and she began crying when she saw her face. The sadness. She understood then. Meiya had just driven a sword through her back. But… why? “I did it all… so that we could…” she choked on blood. Her vision was fading. Before she died, she would curse Meiya. The one person she loved most, in the kindest way she could.

  With her final strength she grabbed Meiya by the hair and pulled her close, giving her a final kiss, but all she could taste was blood. The sadness was so crushing she was glad to die.

  Then, looking into her eyes, she smiled softly. “No matter where we are. You and I will always look up at the same moon, Meiya.” She said, smiling while she still could.

  Meiya let out a painful cry, and Sellyn felt the impact as the second blow of a dagger pierced her chest and severed her heart. Her head slumped to the side as her wind was driven out of her, and as everything went dark, the sun rose on the first day of the Age of Peace.

  ——

  Her eyes shot open as the sound of splintering steel rang and echoed around the small stone chamber. She heard gasping and shuffling as people moved around the room, shards of steel landing on the ground around her.

  Someone, she assumed Cenord, grabbed her by the hair, but she spun around and threw a wild punch upward that connected right in the center of his chest. The thud reverberated around the room and he sank to one knee with a breathless gasp and a panicked look. She was back, and she knew who she was. What she was. And most painfully of all, what had happened to her.

  She turned her head and looked over to Strangweard, who was backing into a corner with wide eyes and a desperate whimper. Tears were running uncontrollably down her face. “I won't hurt you, but—“

  A blow struck her square in the ribs before she could finish speaking, and it stung, but unlike last time it didn’t even wind her. Her eyes met with Cenord’s as he struggled up onto his feet again, his one hand clutching the hilt of the broken sword, his eyes wide in surprise and fear. His sword must have broken against her, she thought.

  Her full memory hadn’t returned yet, but that small dream was enough. Enough to fuel her anger, and hatred, and sadness, and compassion, all to a boiling point.

  “Cenord you have one chance. I took you for a perceptive man when we met.” She said softly, her eyes searching his. She was still crying and she couldn’t stop. “No one has to die, not anymore.”

  A heavy thud struck her in the back. With it came the ripping of clothes and the twang of broken steel as a blade snapped and tumbled onto the stone floor. It was Strangweard, and he had just tried to stab her in the back. She smiled to herself at the irony of something like that happening in this very moment, and a final tear ran down her cheek. “What did you think would happen?” Her voice spoke back in her head. Cenord’s eyes widened when she didn’t react or turn to face Strangwear. “Did you know the Age of Peace started with a knife to the back?” She asked, her voice shaking, but she forced a smile. She felt old power brimming through her. That cold pulsing hum she felt in her body before was magic, and now, it felt as though it was in every inch of her body. Begging to be used again after so long, like a sentient being with a will she had to wrestle. It filled her body with a sense of physical power that was difficult to describe. But more than that… a crushing and hopeless depression loomed over her, her mind bending toward revenge against anyone and everything. The image of the sun rising as she drew her last breath flashed across her eyes every time she blinked.

  “What do you think I should do now, after being stabbed in the back while bartering peace? Realistically.” She asked him. The little chamber was getting hot, her magic overflowing and filling the air, making it feel thick. The hairs on her arms rose and tingled.

  “I—“ he began, but Strangwear interrupted him.

  “Kill her you idiot!” He spat over Sellyn’s shoulder.

  She wanted to make a point of completely ignoring him, but he was begging to die. They were both powerless now, and he was less than a man. She really wanted to make an example of him by killing him here and now, while she still had the power.

  But that would only make things worse moving forward. She turned around and walked right up to Strangwear. “Kill me yourself little boy.” She said with a smile.

  With a grunt he brought the broken blade up to her face but she swatted it away, sending it flying across the room. He winced and whimpered as he grabbed his hand, as if it somehow hurt, and fell back as if she was going to strike him, but she did nothing.

  She turned to Cenord again. “This is the man you kill for? How many men, women, or children have you killed for this coward?” She spat at him.

  “I am the—“ Strangweard began.

  Sellyn turned back around. “Yes, yes, and I am Sellyn Camille.” She interrupted, bending over, picking him up by his collar before throwing him through the air at his brother. Cenord caught him with a crash and they fell back onto the floor. “You know who that is, I assume? Based on how eager you were to kill me.”

  “Everyone knows that name.” Cenord replied. “But…?”

  “I’m still figuring that out. It seems that being dead for almost two hundred years has a profoundly poor effect on the memory.” She said sharply. “But I don’t even care about that right now. My heart aches. One of you will have to answer for this.”

  Cenord’s eyes widened, and Strangweard began whimpering. Without hesitation Cenord threw his brother aside and took a knee. “I’ll do it.”

  Sellyn scoffed, unsurprised. “You’d kill for him, you’d die for him. You’re a good dog, aren’t you?”

  A flash of anger crossed Cenord’s face.

  “What happens if all three of us walk out of this room today?” She asked. “I think we all know which two of us here have the reason and intelligence to leave alive.” Strangweard opened his mouth but Sellyn looked at him and raised her hand. “The adults are talking. Be quiet before you catch a whipping.” She looked back at Cenord. “Someone needs to answer for all this death. I know I wasn’t the first. How many people begged for their lives?”

  He bowed his head, answering in a firm, but somber voice. “I was the one who carried out the executions.”

  “When you catch a murderer do you punish his blade?” Sellyn asked.

  “As far as I am concerned neither of you should be leaving here alive today. I am… compromising for the sake of the future, don’t you think? This world is so profoundly different from the one I had hoped for. I’m almost sad that I get to see it.” She looked over at Strangweard. “Come, stand here next to your brother.” If she wasn’t going to kill them, Strangweard needed to pay for what he did. At least Cenord didn’t listen to his little brother… this time.

  “Sellyn please—“ Cenord began, but stopped when he saw her face. He gestured to his brother, who whimpered and made his way over. When they were standing together she moved and stood in front of Strangweard.

  “Which hand do you fight with?” She asked.

  “Wh—“

  Sellyn sighed and grabbed his left hand. “What am I asking? You couldn’t fight to save your life.” She took the hand he had tried to stab her with. “It’s this hand, right?”

  “Yes—“

  Grabbing his arm at the wrist with both of her hands she squeezed as hard as she could. Immediately she felt his bone shift and he fell to his knees with a loud and pathetic groan. Then she dug her nails into his flesh as deep as she could and twisted her hands in opposite directions. His skin made a wet pop as it tore from the friction, and in one swift motion she broke his wrist and tore his left hand clean from his arm at the joint with a snap. Blood splattered in an arch from the motion, some landing on Cenord. He screamed until his voice broke, and looking down at his gushing stump, fainted. His head bounced on the stone floor and he wet himself. She threw his limp and bloodied hand at him.

  Cenord looked up at her with a pale face and wide, bloodshot eyes.

  “Now you.” She started. “Grab your belt.” She said quickly, “He’ll bleed to death eventually if you wait too long. Unless that’s what you want, of course. If you let him die it’ll be my fault, I suppose, and you can be free of the guilt. Just like all the others you killed or watched die.”

  He looked down at his brother for a moment. Sellyn watched him closely. He raised his hand up to his belt and began undoing it before hesitating.

  “I…” he sighed and dropped his hands to his side. Tears were pouring from his eyes as he watched Strangwear bleeding next to him. “I never wanted this…” he began sobbing.

  Sellyn found no pity for him. He could have refused an order any day he wished. He was smarter and stronger than Strangwear, and he could have done what he thought was right long ago.

  She thought he was perceptive, but he was a fool. That voice screamed and scratched at her. “He deserves it. Both of them do. Just kill them.”

  She slapped Cenord hard. “Take your belt off and stop his bleeding.” As much as she thought she hated them, she couldn’t bring herself to let either of them die. Her stomach turned and ached. Every vacant moment and blank silence was filled with the memory of Meiya crouching over her in her final moments. The smell of her hair. The sound of people singing and cheering. The sun, peeking over the horizon.

  She swallowed a thick lump in her throat and walked over to the door while Cenord tended the worm. When she reached the door she turned to him for a moment. “The other man, the one that was next to you when we came in. Who is he?”

  “He‘s my son.” Cenord replied in a panic. “He will listen to me, I promise.”

  “Good.” Sellyn replied. That feeling of power was slowly fading, but as long as they didn’t know, she would take advantage of it for as long as she could.

  At least now, she knew it was there. “Think of an excuse to tell the village so long.” She knocked on the door. Footsteps came rushing closer from the other side.

  “What’s happening!?” Daryinn shouted in a panic from the other side.

  “It’s me, Daryinn. Who else is there with you now?”

  It was quiet for a moment. “Just me and my nephew still.” There was a brief pause. “What’s happening?” He asked again, impatiently.

  Sellyn sighed a small sigh of relief. “Tell your nephew to lock the door and guard it.” Daryinn did so, and she continued. “We’re coming out. Don’t scream or panic or anything. Strangwear is dying, maybe.”

  “What!?” He screamed, his voice breaking.

  Reluctantly, Sellyn unbolted the door and pulled it open.

  ——

  A fresh, damp log hissed in the fire. It sounded almost like a long and distant scream. Slowly it came to a crescendo that ended in a loud pop which made Sellyn jump a little. Her eyes focused and she realised that she had been staring at Strangweard where he lay, sprawled out and unconscious on a stone bench. A woman, Cenord’s wife, was tending to him. She looked around and realised that both Daryinn and Cenord were watching her.

  “What is it?” She asked with an uncomfortable frown. They were looking at her like they were studying some kind of newly discovered animal from afar.

  “Cenord told me what happened in there.” Daryinn said cautiously.

  “Alright?” She replied, already a little annoyed.

  “But, well, what happened to you?” He asked. “Are you really the Sellyn? From the histories?”

  That was the last thing she wanted to think about. She could only remember two things, and both filled her with grief and regret.

  It made her angry all over, and she felt like she had to physically restrain herself. She dug her nails into her palms. “What does it matter?” She asked bitterly. “The world that Sellyn died for never existed in the end. So what should it matter if she existed at all? Or whether or not she exists now?” Swallowing back tears she bit the inside of her cheek hard. People of magic weren’t even people anymore, she thought.

  They were both silent. For a moment they looked back and forth at each other, as if one of them would eventually be able to ask the right questions.

  “Yes, I am.” She sighed reluctantly. “And my memory matches up with your story, Daryinn.” Her eyes fogged up with tears. “She killed me on the morning of the first day of the Age of Peace.”

  His eyes widened. “Who is “she”?” He asked, surprised.

  “Now you’re prying.” She said flatly in a shaky voice. “You have your answer. I’ll leave your village soon, and then you can return to your killing.”

  “You’re not staying?” Cenord replied quickly.

  Sellyn burst into a surprised laugh. “What ever for? So that I can get stabbed in the back a few more times? I’d rather die than live in this miserable weather, surrounded by a bunch of miserable murderers.” The two brothers shifted uncomfortably. If they knew her true feelings they might wish they could have killed her. In her opinion everyone in this town aside from Cené and Aishe, and maybe Daryinn, should be put to the sword. And then perhaps the next town too, if they followed the same laws.

  “You could… change things here?” He said softly. “You’re the first person—“

  “That had the will to fight back and stop myself from being killed by a family of people who have killed people like me for a hundred years?” She interjected loudly. “And now because I’ve survived being innocently put to death, I’m supposed to, what? Wipe your arse for you?”

  A bitter expression turned her face and furrowed her brow. “If I had to kill one villager for every ten your family has killed, how many people would remain here?” Their eyes widened in realisation. “If this were the time of war I would have razed this village to the ground for what you people have done. That much I know.” She spat into the fire. “But that is how we have ended up here, isn’t it? Everyone is too stupid to learn any lessons, and so history repeats itself. Isn’t that right, boys?”

  They were silent, looking down at their boots in shame. As kind as Daryinn was, even he was complacent until now. He wasn’t free from this guilt, and he knew it.

  “No. I won’t be staying.” She sighed, looking into the fire again. “Maybe the scales need to tip the other way again…” she said vacantly and softly to herself before sighing a deep, and tired sigh.

  A loud shriek shocked her and the brothers out of their conversation. Sellyn looked over to the source and rolled her eyes in annoyance. Strangweard was awake. Seeing him again she wondered if she shouldn’t have just let him die. She wished and hoped that she didn’t already regret her first decision. In the end she let him live out spite, as if Meiya would have seen it somehow, and she could tell her “look, you didn’t have to do it, dear”. Her stomach ached again. She missed Meiya so much, despite only remembering her betrayal. The pain of the betrayal gave away the weight of the love she felt.

  Daryinn shot up to go check on Strangweard, but to her surprise, Cenord stayed with her by the fire.

  “We should have let him die.” He said softly, looking into the fire.

  Sellyn chucked in surprise, shooting him a glance. She agreed, but wouldn’t let him know it. “He’s your brother. I just wanted to teach him a lesson. I left the choice to you. You could have said no and he would have died, but just like all the other times, you just did what you were told. Isn’t that right?” She asked spitefully.

  He shot her an angry glare again, like before.

  With a huff she rolled her eyes at him. “We aren’t suddenly friends, Cenord. I don’t like you. I think you’re a coward. You and Daryinn are both complicit in your own ways, he just chose to look away, and you chose to participate. And I think you liked killing those people, you just needed a reason and a firm hand. Even if the firm hand was attached to a mewling toddler. Now I’ve ripped the hand off and you have no direction of your own. If I was weak you would have killed me today, so stop trying to smooth things over. Want some advice? Beat that rat brother of yours to a pulp right now so that he understands his place. And you want someone to change things? Start by being a man. Accepting what you’ve done isn’t enough. Try understanding it instead.” She found herself surprised by her own harshness.

  Cenord shot up from his seat, spilling his mug that sat at his feet. He was glaring at her angrily. She smiled back at him and looked away, turning her attention to Daryinn and Cenord. “Don’t bother. Your little baby brother is calling.”

  “You know nothing, Sellyn. Yes, I’ve done terrible things. But do not think you know me, or my family, or the burden of the duty we carry.”

  “Burden? Duty?” She laughed.

  He stormed off toward them without a word, or without looking back. For a brief moment her eyes met Strangweard’s.

  They were filled with even more hate than before, but now there was fear too. Like a beaten dog ready to fight. She huffed to herself and smiled at him. This new world was awful. They should have just let the old one end itself.

  ——

  William the Cat was lying curled up in her lap as she sat cross-legged in bed. As she was petting him, he was kneading the air slowly, drawing his nails out with every stretch. Every now and again one nail would hook into her leg, making her flinch a little.

  He showed up spontaneously two days before, waking her up in the middle of the night as he jumped onto her from the open window. Daryinn told her he wanders between town and where they live, at the tower. She smiled, wondering what the townsfolk would think if they knew this was an undead cat.

  There was a quick and rapid knock on her door. “It’s me, Daryinn.” A voice came through.

  She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Come in.” She mumbled, gesturing at no one. The early afternoon sun shone at an angle through the window, warming her legs up in bed. Despite it being the first sunny day in what felt like weeks, she had no desire to get out of bed or get dressed. With a sigh she pulled the thin white sheets over herself.

  Daryinn pushed past a small opening in the door, William jumping off of her lap and leaving the room before he closed it behind him. He blushed a little when he saw that she was covered only by a sheet. “I’m sorry, you said I could—“

  “I did say you could.” She snapped. Immediately she felt guilty. It was difficult for her to remove Daryinn from the sins of his brothers, and she knew deep down he did what he could do without endangering Aishe. “I’m sorry.” She sighed.

  “I have some news.” He said calmly, ignoring her outburst as well as her apology. He was wearing a concerned frown. “Cenord…” he sighed. “Killed Strangweard last night.”

  “Ha!” Sellyn blurted out a laugh before covering her mouth with wide eyes. “I’m sorry again.” She said from behind her hand, unable to hide her smile.

  “No it’s alright.” Daryinn said plainly, waving her off. “We don’t have to pretend or anything. He deserved it.”

  Sellyn shrugged in surprise. She thought he would have been a little more upset at the death of his youngest brother. “I was just surprised he would do something like that. I’m sorry for laughing.”

  He smiled a small smile at her. “I’m not the great man you claimed I was. I’m hardly a good man.”

  He ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Thinking ill of the dead is often the only revenge we get. He was my brother, but only by blood. I won’t miss him.”

  “And what’s going to happen to Cenord now?” She asked curiously.

  “Nothing.” Daryinn replied. “I only know because he told me. It wasn’t a public thing. The town doesn’t even know yet. We’ll probably wait a week and blame a fever. We blamed his hand on a terrible accident during the “hunt” that never happened.”

  “You should choose something more embarrassing.” She said spitefully.

  “Dying from a fever after a boar rips off your hand is a little embarrassing. The way he lived was bad enough.”

  They laughed together for a moment. The world really was broken, she thought. A man makes jokes about his dead brother, whom his other brother just killed. She found herself wondering what Meiya would have thought. Then she remembered again. It was Meiya who drove a knife into her. She balled her fists again, biting her lip.

  “Are you alright?” Daryinn asked with a soft voice.

  With a fake smile she scoffed at him. “No.” She laughed.

  “Is there anything I could do?” His voice was kind, and caring. She could see that he meant it.

  “No.” Before she could stop herself, she was crying hard, sobbing into her hands which clutched tear soaked sheets as she shrank into herself. Why was she alive? What cruel and spiteful thing would make her come back?

  She heard Daryinn’s footsteps approaching and stopped him with a gesture before he got close. With a sniffle she wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “There’s nothing anyone in this world could do for me, Daryinn.” She said through a shaky voice. “I just wish I never remembered…” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, has Cenord said anything else?”

  “He did actually.” Daryinn frowned at her. “He said I must ask you something specifically.”

  “Oh?” Her curiosity piqued.

  “He said to come and see him, if you want to, when you can.” His face betrayed a hint of curiosity and confusion. She assumed he didn't know what it was about.

  “If I want to?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Already an improvement on his brother.”

  Daryinn raised his shoulders. “Not to sound… disrespectful…” he cleared his throat. “But if you are who you seem to be turning out to be, you really could change things again.”

  Sellyn shook her head and looked out of the window, bringing her knees up to her chest, hugging them. A few children were playing with sticks in the muddy street, one tripped and fell. They all laughed together. An old lady walked over and shooed them away, shaking her head. For a moment it almost looked like there was peace for everyone. She took a deep sniffling breath and swallowed back more tears. The one person in the world she would have loved to share this moment with…

  “Who do you people think I am? Change things again?” She scoffed. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? I already tried changing things once before.” She said softly as she watched the people outside. An image of a blackened field littered with the burning dead flashed across her mind for a moment, but was gone before she could really comprehend it. She clutched at her legs. “The world has a way of its own. People are weak and ugly.” She sighed. “It was never my job to change them.”

  Daryinn shuffled over and sat at the foot of the bed. “You’ve already begun changing people.”

  She snorted and rolled her eyes behind closed and teary lids. “I’ve been in this town for five days, Daryinn, and I haven’t left my room in four.” She laughed to herself. “Ive quite literally done nothing.”

  “You spared my brother.” He said softly. “Come with me to see Cenord today, please? I know it’s only been a few days but he's different.” He fondled his shirt. “I know he seems like a bad man, but he’s—“

  She sighed. “Sure.” She knew she couldn’t avoid it anyway. There were things she wanted to tell him, too. “I’ll get dressed, and then we can leave right way. I can’t rot in misery all week.”

  ——

  Cenord looked at her with a somewhat confused frown. Her feet were bare and muddy up to above the ankles, and she was wearing nothing but a white evening gown that was just a little too big for her. It hung loosely down to just below her knees, the same length as her hair. Her thick hair was hanging loosely in unkempt waves and curls, only roughly brushed.

  It shone a deep golden brown in the firelight. “What?” She asked with an annoyed frown.

  “Nothing.” Cenord said with a half surprised tone and a chuckle. “I guess I just expected you to be dressed differently.”

  “Oh is that so?” She laughed. “I’m sorry, my other clothes were torn in my attempted murder.”

  Cenord groaned uncomfortably. “About that—“

  “Please don’t.” She interrupted. “If you called me here to apologise, you can skip it. I think I’ve made my feelings about everything known. You haven’t tried again, I appreciate that.”

  He cleared his throat and tilted his head, his face wrinkling in a surprised and somewhat offended frown. “Well alright then.” He gestured for her to sit down by the fire, and she did so, joined by Daryinn.

  Cenord’s son was standing back against the entrance. He looked a few years younger than Strangweard was. He looked sad, or worried. Oh yes. “Your little brother?” She asked.

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Ah, yes. Well, he’s dead. Last night while he slept… well…”

  “Fitting.” Sellyn scoffed. “But anyway. Daryinn said you requested to speak to me specifically. What about?”

  He gestured to his son, who came over and handed them each a mug of ale. Before he could speak Sellyn took his mug from him, and placed hers in his hand. She watched as he took a gulp, as if to prove a point, after which she turned to Daryinn and took his mug from him, replacing it with the one she had taken from Cenord. After he took a sip of his new cup, she placed the one she took from him on the ground at her feet. She wasn’t going to drink anyway, she just wanted to make it painfully clear that she didn’t trust Cenord. She wasn't getting poisoned either.

  He shook his head with a smile and spoke. “You were right the other night. I did what I was told my whole life. I did what my father raised me to do, and when my father put Strangwaerd in charge, I did what he asked without question.” He placed his mug on the ground between his feet. “I’ve fought and killed many people and beasts, magical and otherwise. All for the laws and ideals I was raised with.” His face was somber and dark, and he raised his eyes to meet hers. “But I have no excuses anymore. I saw that the other night. I don’t know what vision you had, but I saw how much you hurt. I saw how you looked when you asked me to stop, and my brother stabbed you in the back.” Tears began welling up in his eyes, and he wiped them with his sleeve.

  “You had every right to let us die. I’ve never shown anyone the mercy they asked for… and yet… I didn’t even ask for it, and you gave it to us.”

  Sellyn didn’t know what to say. She wanted to be harsh, to say something cutting that would deepen his regret. But she couldn’t find it.

  “You were also right about change.” He continued. “I don’t want to be a… dog anymore.” He turned to Daryinn. “Firstly, brother. I want you to come back, and live here. You, Cené, and Aishe. We need someone to usher in the changes we need to make. You’ve lived in isolation long enough. Now that Srangwaerd is gone, I see no reason why you can’t come back. Live a normal life, and lead the people here.”

  Daryinn shot up, surprised. “Me!? You know I can’t do something like that! Cené and Aishe—“

  “I know about Aishe, brother.” Cenord interrupted with a soft voice. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a long twine necklace. On the end hung a small shard of clear, bluish crystal. “When she first fell ill, Strangweard sent me, of course. I’ve always known.” He looked up at them again. “I am an awful man, I know. But even awful men sometimes seek redemption. I’d like to think mine started then…”

  A small spark of hope shot like a needle through Sellyn’s heart, but she gritted her teeth and snuffed it out. It still took the threat of death for this man to change. It was the only way anyone changed.

  “Why don’t you do it? You’re stronger, you’ve got more experience with the people here, you’re respected.” Daryinn sat back down with a slump, leaning with his elbows on his knees. “I…” he sighed. “Cené will have to decide. I can’t leave them alone, so if she says no…” He looked up at his brother. “If she says yes, and if she can be convinced that Aishe will be safe, I’ll do it.”

  “Please consider it. I don’t know if there’s a lot of time.” He said with a smile.

  “Time before what?” Daryinn asked.

  “Before Sellyn leaves, as she seems intent on doing.” Cenord got up and turned toward Sellyn, standing tall. His eyes were gleaming and his face was serious. “I have no right to ask you this. I have no right to ask anything at all. But still…”

  “No.” The voice in Sellyn’s head whispered to her again, answering on her behalf. She frowned and looked up at him expectantly. To her utter shock and surprise, he bowed in front of her, like a servant. “What…?” She whispered to herself, wide eyed as she shot up from her chair. It fell back behind her and she knocked her mug over.

  “Please.” He asked, raising his head to look up at her. “When you leave, take me with you.”

  Her face twisted into a disgusted and shocked expression. Quickly, she took a step forward and pulled him up by the sleeve of his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” She hissed through her teeth, grabbing him by his collar before straightening him out and letting go. He must have gone mad after killing his brother, she thought. “What would possess you to do something like that!?” She shouted. “Never bow or kneel in front of me, ever again. Just… sit down, please.”

  They all took a moment to rearrange their chairs and sit down again. Cenord’s son came around and picked up the mugs, refilling them and placing them back down. He gave his father a sad, almost disappointed look. He obviously knew his father wanted to leave, otherwise she was sure he would have protested more. This time, Sellyn picked up her mug and drank from it. It was warm spiced wine. After two sips she put it down again, it was terrible. She turned to Cenord, straightening in her chair. “Almost a week ago, a moment after I said who I was, you struck me in the back of the head and dragged me into a little dungeon.” A smile escaped her. It all felt so casual now, even to her. “Now, you’re bowing in front of me like I’m some kind of princess, asking me to take you with me - to where, who knows?”

  The fire snapped and crackled.

  “You’ve killed many people, Cenord. You would have killed me, and just a few hours ago, you killed your very own brother.”

  He winced, looking down at his hands which he folded in his lap.

  “Forgive me, but, why would I ever accept an offer like that. From you of all people?” She was completely confused about this. “Let me just ask you this; What are your motivations? What exactly do you hope to find with me?”

  “You’ve killed a great many people too, Sellyn Camille.” He replied, calmly but flatly, looking her in the eyes. “My brother tells me you have no memories. Perhaps you don’t know yet. But I imagine when you remember the countless dead, that your reasons will seem different from mine. Justified, perhaps. In the end we both wanted something at the very end of our path and we did what we thought was right.” He said softly. “I want now, what I’m sure you wanted then; a change at change.”

  Sellyn burst out into a laugh. “Ha!” She exclaimed, chucking to herself. Since that night she was in a bitter and jaded state of mind. As it stood, she had no good memories or experiences, aside from Cené and Daryinn’s kindness.

  The hope she once had for a better world was destroyed so long ago. Change and redemption were fools errands. “You won't find that with me. You say I’ve killed countless people, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. But let me ask you; why do you think I did it? Because that is the cost of change. It was a thousand years ago. It was two hundred years ago. And it was last night, when you killed your brother.” She sighed and bit her lip. Maybe they needed to understand her better.

  She swallowed away a lump and addressed them both. “The night I died, I was standing on a balcony, looking down at the celebrations of the change to the new age. My last words to the woman I loved were…” her voice cracked. “I’m glad I’ll get to see the sun rise on the first day of peace with you at my side.” She drove a sword through my back before I got to see the sun, and I died never getting to see the world we sought to build together.” She bent forward and picked up the wine, finishing the cup in a few gulps. “I gave my life, and still I found no redemption down my path. And as for change.” She laughed, holding her cup in the air in a gesture that she wanted more. “Nothing changes without dying first. That’s what change is. And I’m done interfering with people.”

  “My father was a hard and cruel man.” Cenord began. “I was six when he made me kill my first animal. A family dog that bit at his hand one day. He held it down and made me drive a dagger into its heart. I was weak. The dog suffered, and he beat me for it. When I was twelve I witnessed my first failed test, and I witnessed my father behead a girl, maybe fifteen. She begged me for help, as if there was anything I could do. He made me watch a dozen more, and on my eighteenth birthday he made me kill my first man.

  Not even a magical one. Just a man who stole some silver, deemed lowly enough to die.” He swallowed hard and raised his cup to his mouth with a shaky hand.

  “In the twelve years since, I’ve killed fifty-three sorcerers. If I knew their names beforehand I can recite them to you now. I’ve always hated it. It’s always made me sick, since I was a child and I carry the regret of every one of them. But you’re right. I’m a coward, and my whole life I’ve gritted my teeth and done what I was told, because I was told it was right. Through the pleas, and the begging eyes, and the burning pit in my stomach… I’ve always closed my eyes and swung my sword, afraid that if I stood up to my father I would find myself at the end of it.” A few tears ran down his face. “You let me live. You let my brother live, despite knowing he never had any intention of sparing you. You changed me…” he said stupidly. “And I… then I want to change things. If I can show the compassion you showed me, then—“

  “I didn’t show you compassion.” Sellyn said quickly. “It was a spiteful whim to prove a point to someone who’s already dead.

  An inside joke between myself and the woman who killed me on the simplicity of peace. Compassion wasn’t the thing that changed you. It was the realisation that you had found yourself on the other end of the sword. If you killed me, do you think you would have still wanted to leave this place and change the world?”

  Cenord’s son came back with a jug and filled her cup again. She stopped him as he walked away and took the jug with a smile. Despite the horrible taste, she realised she wanted the wine. “You don’t need to follow me around like a bird without a nest in order to find what you’re looking for. You have a family here, don’t you? A son, a wife?” After another few large gulps, she topped her mug up again and placed it along with the jug on the ground.

  Cenord sighed.

  “I don’t trust you, Cenord. I told you what I thought of you last week. That hasn’t changed just because you took one step toward becoming a better man. You have mountains to climb before I could ever trust you. I can’t pretend that I won’t judge you, or think little of you. Why would you ever subject yourself to that? Why would you leave your family behind for someone like me? Someone who’s already decided there is no changing.”

  He sighed shakily. “Because guilt alone isn’t enough. Guilt isn’t penance.”

  She sat back in her seat, a hot flush suddenly flooding over her. Shock and awe. This was the third time today that Cenord truly surprised her. She was fighting with herself to stay angry. A small part of her was whispering to her to forgive him, and allow him to redeem himself. She wished that her only memory was a different one. Suddenly new memories appeared. It was Aishe, waking her up from the fireplace. Cené offering her clothes. William the cat smiling as Daryinn scratched his head. Children laughing while they play in the mud. She had memories of peace, and kindness. They were the first new ones she made. She loathed it.

  “Shit.” She whispered under her breath before letting out a sigh. What did it matter if he killed her in her sleep, too? She’d seen enough, and she wasn’t supposed to be alive at all, she thought. “But if you kill me, I better never wake up again. Please.” She bent over and chugged down the cup of wine before pouring herself another. “I assume though, this all depends on whether or not Daryinn and Cené can come back?” She asked.

  “They’ll come, I’m sure. If we get rid of the tests, and let people live as they please, regardless of what they are.” Daryinn replied, speaking for the first time in so long she almost forgot he was a part of the conversation. “Aishe deserves to grow up in a village, around children her age…”

  Cenord reached out for a cloth sack that was sitting near the wood for the hearth. With a grunt he lifted it and poured some of the contents out onto the ground in front of them.

  A dozen or so large shards of crystal and rock scraped and bounced on one another. “I’ve already destroyed the Testing Stone.” He reached over his head and removed the small shard he carried around his neck, adding it to the pile. “There will never be another test again. Though, you might have to pretend there still will be. People won’t just suddenly accept this.”

  Sellyn smiled at his gesture, reaching to the shard Cenord had just discarded. This time, even before she touched the stones, they lit up dimly, and she felt a faint warmth radiate from them. Undeterred, she took the twine and put the shard in her hand. It lit up brightly, casting rays of multitudes of colours into her palm and across her white dress.

  “You’ve done a lot of thinking in just one week.” Sellyn said softly as she looked down at the light in her palm. It annoyed her greatly for some reason, the fact that he was trying so hard to be better. The road ahead would be much more painful if she allowed herself to hope. “Maybe even some changing, too.” She whispered.

  He laughed. “I’m grateful you let me live, and I’ve had time to think, indeed. A whole lifetime. Thinking is easy.”

  “I see that.” She said to herself.

  “If I died, I would have always been that person, and I would never have the chance to try and right my wrongs. Whether you like it or not, your spiteful act of mercy showed me something. It showed me that I’ve always had a chance to make the right choice, and that it was never too late to make it.”

  “The type of wrongs we’ve committed don’t get undone, Cenord. The best you can hope to do is prevent them from happening again. And, I don’t think you understand what it will take to change things again.”