Roshil pulled her work-in-progress out of the furnace. Setting it back on the anvil, she took her hammer to it again. The sound of metal hitting metal filled her ears, but spending time in the forge almost every day for the past month had turned it into white noise.

Once the metal cooled again, she shoved it back into the furnace. She wiped her brow with her sleeve, sweating in the heat.

“Apprentice Roshil!”

Hearing the Lord High Artisan’s voice, she spun around and stood to attention.

Lord Grund wheeled himself over to her. He looked as dirty as she was, but despite his wheelchair, he managed to give the impression that he loomed over everyone.

“Where’s Master Udra?” he asked.

Roshil glanced around the forge, but didn’t see her master anywhere.

“Don’t know, my lord. She was here earlier. Told me to work with the furnaces this afternoon.”

He looked at the piece of molten steel in the furnace behind her.

“I can see that. Pull that thing out before you ruin it. Nothing more useless than a deformed shield.”

She grabbed her tongs and pulled it out of the furnace, then placed it on the anvil in front of her. She grabbed it with a gloved hand and picked up her hammer in the other.

“Pack it up,” he ordered. “You’re finished for today.”

Roshil looked down at the shield. It wasn’t big, but a buckler still stopped arrows and steel.

“With all due respect, my lord, I’m nearly finished.”

“You’re right. It’ll make a fine shield. Unless you intend to use it to block attacks.”

She glared at him, then went back to work.

“You’re using the wrong tools,” he said.

She paused and studied her creation. It was a little lumpy in places, but she thought it was alright.

“And, you should still be practicing the basics. If you’d mastered them, you’d know what you’re doing wrong. So pack that up for another day.”

“Can’t you tell me what I’m doing wrong?” Roshil worked the metal more, smoothing it out while it was still hot.

“First you flatten it, then you mold it. If you try to do both at once, you end up with lumps and divots like you’re seeing now.”

She growled under her breath, but put down her hammer. After waiting for the metal to cool, she picked it up and moved it to her spot in storage. She took off her gloves, goggles, and apron and put them with the unfinished piece, then returned to the furnaces as Lord Grund was shutting them all down.

“You can go to dinner,” he said. “In fact, that’s an order. You skipped lunch again.”

An image of a hundred staring eyes in the great hall flashed into her mind.

“I’m fine.”

“Having trouble with orders today, I see.” He wheeled over to another furnace and deactivated the spell that kept it hot. He turned his wheelchair to face her. “Food. Now. And if you see Master Udra, tell her I want to see her.”

As much as she didn’t want to go to the great hall, she was hungry, and if she kept arguing, she knew from experience that she’d be banned from the forge for a day.

“Yes, my lord.”

Roshil walked through the door that connected the forge to the rest of the castle. As with all the magic doors in the castle, she felt a tingle when she stepped through it. No matter how many times she walked through one, it still made her smile to think of how beautiful that piece of magic was.

She walked away from the forge, through the stone corridors of Skwyr castle, heading toward the great hall. After spending all day in the forge, the cooler air felt good on her skin. She wiped away sweat again, then looked at her arm.

Five years of living in Skwyr, and she still felt out of place. Pale skin against a sea of brown. People around her whispering about the Kingdom of Nelaro, as though she’d ever been there. All she knew about it was that her mother had grown up there, and that Nelaro City was gone.

Then there were her hair and eyes. Streaks of red ran through her hair, and her eyes were gold. It was the first thing people saw when they saw her.

She walked past a group of apprentices. They glanced in her direction, but didn’t make eye contact. No one liked making eye contact with her, although she didn’t understand why. Were her eyes that bad? Why couldn’t people look past that?

I don’t care, she told herself. I don’t need them.

Sure, she looked different, but she wasn’t the only one. There were people from Alforn and Bywin in the castle too, even a few from Nelaro.

As she neared the great hall for dinner, she spotted a familiar face. It wasn’t a friendly face, but familiar was good enough for her.

“Master Udra!”

She was among a group of people Roshil didn’t recognize. Her first thought was other masters. At first, she didn’t respond, but one of her friends nodded in Roshil’s direction. Udra turned and glared at Roshil.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the forge until you were finished making a shield?”

Roshil clenched and unclenched her fists. Lord Grund had ordered her to leave. She was sure his orders overrode Master Udra’s. Why couldn’t people all agree on what she was supposed to do?

Udra said something to her friends, and they walked off, leaving them alone.

“Our Lord High Artisan told me to leave. He wants—”

“Sure he did. Or you’re avoiding working in the forge!”

Roshil frowned, not sure what she meant. People confused her, and she did whatever she could to avoid them, but she’d be content staying in the forge all day. It was the entire reason she became an apprentice. Master Udra should’ve known that.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Udra said, lowering her voice. “Just because I’m responsible for you doesn’t mean I’m going to believe every word you say. Unless Our Lord High Artisan tells me himself that he dismissed you, you’d better get back to work.”

“I’m not lying,” Roshil hissed. She clenched her fists. Her lips drew back in a snarl.

“Why did I have to get stuck with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look at you. Anyone can see you’re not normal. I’m not talking about your skin being white, I’m talking about that hair and those eyes.”

“People change the way they look all the time!”

“Normal people do. But you’re an abomination.”

Master Udra looked her in the eye, but shook as if it were painful for her. Roshil had seen that before, that contempt.

Another voice, one from long ago, crept into her mind.

I’m the only one who will ever love you.

“What?” she asked, pushing down old memories.

“You disobeyed an order from me,” Udra said, breaking eye contact. “Go back to the forge. Stay there until I tell you to leave. And never question me again.”

Roshil glared at her, but nodded nonetheless. She was tired of being pushed around, but no one cared enough about her to stop. She turned and started back toward the forge. Keeping her gaze straight ahead, she walked until she was sure Master Udra couldn’t see her, then turned and headed toward the north tower. Along the way, she spotted a familiar crack in the wall. It opened up at the floor, creating a crawlspace big enough for her to hide.

No one will ever love you.

A shiver ran through her body. She hated that voice, but it never left her. She could still feel those eyes on her, watching her from far away. Those same eyes now stared back at her from her own reflection.

He won’t hurt you anymore.

That’s what they’d told her when she’d been brought to the court. When she’d found out what had happened.

Roshil sat there, struggling to keep herself together. People went by, but no one saw her. She knew she was different. She had been for five years. Before that, people said she looked like her mother. But that thing had taken that from her. Taken her mother. Taken her brother’s sight.

I’m not your enemy, Roshil. I’m your friend. The only one you’ll ever have.

She shook her head, shoving those memories down. She held her legs tighter. It wasn’t her fault she was like this. She didn’t want to be.

Time passed, and people returned to their rooms. Curfew was approaching, which meant she’d missed dinner. That didn’t matter; she didn’t belong in the Court. Maybe she didn’t belong in the kingdom.

She heard a familiar sound echoing through the empty corridors. Glancing out of her hiding spot and down the corridor, she saw Lord Grund turn the corner.

She crawled out, got to her feet, and stood to attention.

“My Lord High Artisan.”

“It’s Master Grund, now,” he said. “I’m taking over your apprenticeship. Report to the forge immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning.”

He turned his wheelchair around and started off before stopping.

“Do you know why people don’t like you?”

“My mother was from Nelaro, and—”

“No.”

She frowned, wondering what it was he knew that she didn’t. Was there some other reason? Her hair and her eyes?

“Go to the kitchens for some food, then go to the library. Look up the term ‘dragon-touched’, and explain it to me tomorrow morning.”

“Is that what I am?”

“Curfew starts soon. You’d best get moving if you want to be ready.”

With that, Master Grund left her alone in the corridor.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

Roshil walked through the stone corridors of the castle. It was quiet, giving her the feeling that she shouldn’t be there.

If anyone asks, I’ve been ordered by my master to go to the kitchens.

It hadn’t entirely sunk in yet that she’d be mentored by the High Artisan himself. The great weapons of the Knights, the King’s throne, all the officers’ weaponry, even some of their clothing, it was all made by him. He was the best of the best.

Is that what I am?

He also seemed to know something about her that she herself didn’t know. What did dragon-touched mean? She knew the dragon had done something to her; it was obvious by her hair and eyes. What else had it done to her?

What am I?

She descended a spiral staircase down below the castle. She heard voices up ahead of her, and saw torchlight flickering from several rooms. These were the servants’ rooms, which weren’t far from the kitchens. Apprentices didn’t venture down here often, or so she’d been told when she’d arrived.

It’d only been a month ago, but it felt longer. Her arriving at the castle, saying goodbye to her father and brother, their friend Master Ekla meeting them at the gates to show her around her new home.

When she’d arrived, she’d been excited. Possibilities had opened up for her with her acceptance to the court. Her father had been so excited when they’d been told she’d been accepted.

“Your mother would’ve been so proud of you,” he’d said.

She walked down the corridors, following the signs to the kitchens. If there was one thing for which she was grateful, it was that there were signs throughout the castle to guide apprentices. Without them, she’d have gotten lost a dozen times a day between classes and the forge.

She arrived at the kitchens and walked inside. Servants were bustling about, cleaning up from the day’s meals, or preparing small snacks for themselves. When they saw her enter, they stood respectfully at attention.

“How may we help you?” one woman asked.

Roshil wondered if they recognized her in particular, or if they knew she wasn’t a servant.

“I missed dinner,” she said, “so His… my master sent me here to get something to eat.”

The woman nodded and motioned for Roshil to follow her. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll get you something to eat.”

She walked through the kitchens as the servants went back to work. Roshil watched with interest as they all moved with a purpose, everyone knowing where they needed to be.

The woman reached into a cupboard, took a plate, and handed it to Roshil.

“What’s left of dinner will be in there,” she said, pointing to a large cupboard. “Everything’s okay to eat. Take whatever you like.”

“Thank you,” Roshil said. She turned to the storage cupboard, then turned back to ask the woman her name, but she’d vanished. Roshil looked around the kitchen, but the woman was nowhere to be found.

She turned back and opened the cupboard. Not only was there light coming from the shelves, but the inside of the cupboard stretched into the distance. Roshil walked through, overwhelmed by the food inside. She spotted some chicken, and added that to her plate. After taking some greens (making her father happy) and potatoes, she left the cupboard.

She walked through the kitchens, taking a glass of water that was offered to her as she did, moving from one room to the next, until she found another familiar face sitting at a table. This one wasn’t only familiar, but friendly.

Master Ekla smiled at Roshil when she saw her. She stood up and motioned to an empty seat at her table.

“Roshil… Sorry, Apprentice Roshil.” She smiled with a touch of pride.

“Master Ekla,” Roshil said, smiling back at the closest thing she had to a friend in the castle. She sat down at the table across from Ekla, then tore into her chicken. The salty taste filled her mouth as she chewed.

“I see your table manners are as respectable as ever,” Ekla said, sitting back down.

“What?” Roshil mumbled through a mouthful of potato that had joined the chicken.

Ekla laughed, covering her mouth before sitting up straight.

“Cut, chew, swallow, talk, repeat,” she said. “A girl as smart as you can manage that.”

Roshil frowned, then put another bite of food in her mouth.

“What brings you here?” Ekla asked. “Skip dinner?”

Roshil nodded as she drank some water.

“Really?”

Roshil started to explain, but closed her mouth when Ekla motioned for her to be quiet.

“Swallow.”

Roshil forced the food down her throat.

“I was working on the furnaces. Master Grund told me—”

“Master Grund?”

Roshil sensed another lecture coming on about using the proper titles when referring to members of the court, so she explained before Ekla could start.

“He found me a few minutes ago, told me he was taking over my apprenticeship, then told me to get food because I’d missed dinner.”

Ekla nodded, a knowing look on her face.

“That makes sense.”

Roshil frowned, put more food in her mouth, then remembered to finish her mouthful before talking again.

“It does?”

“Master Udra… she’s not a people person. All Masters are supposed to take on an apprentice sometime, but not all of them are good at it.”

You’re an abomination.

“I noticed,” Roshil said, putting an edge to her voice.

While Roshil ate her next mouthful, Ekla stood up and walked away. Her voice came from another room, along with the clattering of silver. She came back a moment later with a fork and knife.

“These might help,” she said, sitting back down and handing them to Roshil.

Roshil stared at them.

“Can I stab Master Udra with them?”

“Roshil!” Ekla snapped. “No! They’re for eating! Don’t talk about anyone like that!”

“She started it! I didn’t do anything wrong! She’s the one that said I was an abomination!”

Ekla froze, her eyes fixed on Roshil. Even the sounds of the servants seemed to fade away.

“She didn’t,” she said in a low voice. “Roshil, that’s not funny.”

“I’m not lying!” Roshil shouted. Her lips drew back into a snarl.

“Lower your voice. Calm down, I believe you.”

Roshil sat back in her chair, glaring at Ekla. The rage inside her quelled, and she took another drink of water.

“I believe you,” Ekla said again. “Our Lord High Artisan wouldn’t have taken you on himself without good reason.”

Roshil placed the utensils on the table, then ignored them and picked up the chicken and took another bite.

“Stop eating for a minute so I can talk to you, please.”

Roshil grumbled and put down her food. While she could tune out hunger when she was working, it was harder when it was right in front of her and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. That, and ripping something apart made her feel better.

“Are you alright?” Ekla asked.

“Fine. People have always been that way. I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

“People aren’t supposed to be that way. Your brother isn’t. I’m not.”

Roshil thought of her brother. The one person in the world that had never treated her worse. He was nice to everyone, but he’d always been a little nicer to her than everyone else.

“Sure. But everyone else is. I shouldn’t have come here. I should go home.”

Ekla shook her head.

“Remember when you told me you wanted to be an apprentice? What was my first question?”

“‘Why?’”

“And you said you wanted to work in the forge. You didn’t have to become an apprentice to work in the forge, but you did anyway.”

Roshil nodded, remembering their discussions about it over the past several months. Serving the court seemed tedious, but the stories of people of all sorts fitting in at the court had made her want to go. She’d believed it. She liked making things, and she wanted to be at the court.

“I wanted to be where people could fit in,” she said. “Where I could fit in.”

She hated admitting it to anyone out loud, but Ekla had worn her down months ago by questioning her about her motives.

“And I want to be like my mother.”

As much as I still can be.

“You belong here too,” Ekla said. “If Our Lord High Artisan took over your apprenticeship, he thinks so too.”

They didn’t say anything after that until after Roshil had finished her food. The only conversation they had was Ekla giving significant looks at her and the utensils near her plate, and the nods when Roshil started using them.

“Do you know what ‘dragon-touched’ means?” Roshil asked when she’d finished and a servant had cleared her plate.

“No, why? Is… is that what that thing did to you?”

“I don’t know. Master Grund told me to look it up after I was finished here.”

Ekla got up from the table.

“Then you’ve got to get going. Curfew’s in half an hour. I’ll walk you to the library, but I can’t stay with you. I have important master things to do.”

Roshil nodded and got up from the table. She wasn’t sure she wanted anyone else to know the truth about her. If she was right, it was why people hated her. It made her inhuman.

An abomination.

They left the kitchens, with Master Ekla leading the way. No one questioned them or reminded them that it was almost curfew. They walked through the corridors until they reached the door with the word “Library” in gold letters above it.

“You’re on your own from here,” Ekla said. “Don’t worry about whatever you find out in there. It doesn’t change who you are.”

“I’m not worried,” Roshil said, ignoring the churning feeling in her stomach. She chalked it up to having eaten too fast. It certainly wasn’t from nerves, because she wasn’t nervous at all.

Ekla faced her and stood at attention.

“Good luck, Apprentice Roshil.”

Roshil mirrored her posture.

“Thank you, Master Ekla.”

Ekla turned and left, leaving Roshil to discover the nature of her curse alone.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

The library of Skwyr spanned three stories. Roshil walked in on the ground floor and looked up, wondering where the books on dragons were. She could see up to the top floor, but had no idea how long she’d have to look. With curfew approaching, she had to be back in her room soon.

She looked around the first floor, trying to remember where the librarian was. She started walking further into the library, hoping to stumble upon someone that could help her.

No. I don’t need help. I don’t need anyone.

She spotted a sign up ahead and walked over to it. She scanned the list of sections and saw one with animals. Following the sign, she made her way up one floor. Walking through shelves of books, she kept her head up.

Roshil turned a corner into an aisle just as someone else turned out of it.

“Sorry,” the other girl whispered as they nearly ran into one another.

Roshil opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped when she saw the other girl.

Her bright brown eyes stood out against her black skin. Her hair was done up in a pair of braids going past her shoulders. She clutched a book in her hands.

“Sorry,” Roshil said.

“Sh,” the other girl said.

She kept her head down and walked around Roshil.

“Can you help me?” Roshil asked, trying to keep her voice down. “I’m looking for books on dragons.”

The other girl froze and glanced back at her. She stared for a moment, and Roshil caught those eyes moving to Roshil’s hair.

“My name’s Roshil,” she said. “What’s yours?”

The girl averted her eyes and spotted something interesting on her shoes.

“Aonva.” She met Roshil’s gaze. “I can help you find what you need, but we don’t have long.”

Roshil smiled at her. She felt excited for the first time all day.

“Anything particular on dragons?”

Roshil hesitated and wondered if it was okay to tell her. Without knowing what she’d find, Roshil couldn’t know if it was bad. What if she was a monster waiting to emerge and slaughter the castle? Udra might deserve it, but Aonva was nice.

She is nice. And she’s different too.

“My master told me to look up ‘dragon-touched’. I think it’s a spell specific to dragons.”

The face of a black dragon loomed over her. He hissed words Roshil didn’t understand, then moved his claw to her. She backed into a corner and squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to scream for help, but no one was coming. Everyone she’d ever known was dead, he’d said.

I’m the only one who cares about you, Roshil. I promise, I’ll take good care of you.

“Excuse me?”

Roshil opened her eyes. She was in the library, in Skwyr. Safe. Aonva was watching her. Was that concern? Was she worried? Did she care? Why did it matter?

Roshil’s heart had started beating faster than she thought it was supposed to be. She calmed herself down, pushing memories of that thing back where they belonged.

“Are you alright?”

Roshil grinned and nodded.

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure. The hospital’s—”

“I’m fine,” Roshil repeated, not wanting to go near that place again. All it held was bad news.

Aonva turned and walked back into the aisle she’d been in. Roshil followed her a little ways until she stopped. Aonva pulled a book out, tucking her own book under her arm. She handed it to Roshil without taking her eyes off the shelves. She grabbed another book, then another one, and handed them both to her. Aonva took two more books and gave them to Roshil. After thinking for a moment, she pulled one out from the middle of the stack in Roshil’s arms and put it back.

“I think I remember reading something about it in one of these.”

“Come on,” Roshil said. “It’ll be faster to look if we both do it.”

She didn’t think she wanted help, but she didn’t want Aonva to leave.

“It’s almost curfew. Just check them out and find it later.”

“I’ve got to find it tonight!”

“Keep your voice down.” Aonva glanced at the clock. “I’ll help, but only for a few minutes.”

“Great!” Tucking the books under her arm, Roshil grabbed Aonva’s free hand and led her over to a table. “Are you an apprentice?”

“Um… yes. I’m an apprentice mage under Master Kaernin. Um… what about you?”

“Artisan, under Master Grund.”

“Our Lord High Artisan? I didn’t think the officers took apprentices.”

“He took over my apprenticeship a few hours ago when he realized my old master wasn’t good at it.”

Roshil sat down at the table and put the books down. She slid one over to Aonva and started flipping through another one.

“There’s an index at the back,” Aonva said, flipping to the back of the book in front of her. “Got it.” She flipped through the book, then began to read.

“Through prolonged exposure to magic, creatures are known to mutate. While this often happens as a result of exposure to Nature’s Essence, resulting in griffins, phoenixes, etc., it is also known to occur as a result of magic.”

Roshil frowned, then looked at the page upside down. Where was this going?

“Dragons, being the source of magic, have an enchantment to expedite this process,” Aonva continued. “Those enchanted this way are known as dragon-touched. The particular symptoms differ from dragon to dragon, but physical effects are common, eyes and hair in particular.”

“That’s… me.”

Thoughts rushed into Roshil’s head. The world started to spin. She shook her head, trying to stay grounded. Why had it done that to her?

“Why?”

Aonva skimmed the page, then began again. “There’s no consensus as to what benefits this provides to the dragon. Some researchers believe it strengthens the bond between dragon and victim, while others believe it to be a way of branding those they believe they own.”

“No one owns me!” Roshil hissed.

She clenched her fists, and a low growl escaped her throat.

“Did you just growl?” Aonva asked.

Roshil grabbed the book and skimmed the page. None of this answered why people hated her so much. Did they all know what she was? Did they think she was a dragon’s servant?

“It’s worth noting that those exposed to Nature’s Essence are known to react negatively towards the dragon-touched. While unicorns in particular believe dragon-touched creatures to be a disruption of the natural order, most humans have some natural instinct that compels them to distrust, or even hate dragon-touched humans. This is exacerbated by prolonged exposure to Nature’s Essence, making druids the most outspoken against those who have been dragon-touched.”

She stared at the book, at the word “hate”. This was what that thing had done to her. People near her had an instinctive hatred of her. They always would. What was the point of trying to make friends if they’d hate her eventually?

“I’m really sorry.”

Roshil tore her eyes away from the book. Aonva stared at her with sad eyes. She didn’t look like she hated her yet. Was it only a matter of time? What about Master Ekla, or her brother, or her father, or Master Grund? Would they all hate her in the end?

“You don’t hate me, do you?”

Aonva took the book from her and closed it. She looked down, but shook her head.

“It feels a little weird being around you, but it’s not bad. I… I don’t really have friends.”

“You do now!” Roshil exclaimed.

“Would you keep your voice down?” Aonva hissed. “We’re in a library!”

“I know that,” Roshil whispered back.

Aonva got up and took the books back to the shelf. Roshil followed her, wanting to spend as much time as she could with her new friend.

Aonva put the books back, then glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Oh no.” She pushed past Roshil, nearly running through the library. Roshil raced after her.

“It’s almost past curfew,” Aonva said. “We’ll be in so much trouble.”

“Only if we’re caught,” Roshil said with a grin.

The two friends raced out of the library as the lights began to dim to remind them that it was time for bed.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

The next morning, Roshil ate breakfast with Aonva. Roshil had never eaten with anyone in the castle before, apart from Master Ekla the previous night. She glanced around and saw people all over sitting together and talking, as though everyone else had friends. She turned back and smiled at Aonva. Now she did too.

“What?” Aonva asked.

“I’ve never had a friend before!” Roshil said, then focused on her food when her face felt hot.

“Me either,” Aonva said, just loud enough to be heard over the din of the great hall. “I spend a lot of time in the library, so I’ve never gotten to know people here.”

Roshil tore into a slice of ham, stabbing it with her knife and fork.

“What about your master?” she asked before she’d finished her food. She glanced across the hall and spotted Master Ekla eyeing her from behind Aonva. Roshil wasn’t certain, but she thought she saw her mouth “cut, chew, swallow, talk” before smiling at her.

“I’m sorry?” Aonva asked after she’d finished her own mouthful. She didn’t eat with the same enthusiasm as Roshil. Instead, she picked at her food, never eating too much.

“Your master?” Roshil asked.

“Oh, that’s Master Kaernin. He’s nice, if not terribly talkative. You said you were being taught by Our Lord High Artisan, right?”

Roshil nodded and glanced up at the officers looming over them. Master Grund wasn’t there. Maybe he was already in the forge. Would he be upset if she arrived too early?

“He wants to see me right after breakfast,” Roshil said, then turned back to Aonva. “You don’t think it’s bad, do you?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, right?”

Roshil shrugged and ate more of her food. They didn’t talk much before they were finished and everyone began to leave. Roshil bid farewell to her new friend, then made her way through the castle to the forge. When she arrived, she found Master Grund there, working on something.

“Master Grund!”

“Apprentice Roshil, right on time.” He put down his work and turned to her. “What did you find out?”

Roshil repeated everything she’d read the night before. It didn’t feel real, even when she said it out loud. This was her. She was enchanted, an enchantment she guessed couldn’t be undone. Her face and eyes were going to be like this forever. People would always glare at her, insult her, regard her as inhuman. She was grateful Aonva was a mage and not a druid.

“Very good,” he said when she was finished talking. While she’d been talking, he’d placed his project in a furnace. When he removed it, he took a chisel and began carving something into it.

“Now it’s my turn. There’s something that you need to understand about Skwyr Court. There’s a place for everyone. Years ago, it wasn’t like this. The Kingdom of Nelaro was the norm, not accepting people outside the kingdom into the court, not allowing them to make the rules. Only the royal family or people like them had a say.”

He looked her dead in the eye. She gasped and took a step back, unaccustomed to people being so direct with her.

“Your family knows that better than most, I think.”

Roshil nodded, remembering the stories her mother had told her about growing up in Nelaro. It also crossed her mind that Master Grund knew a lot more about her than she’d realized. If it’d been anyone else, she’d assume they were just assuming she’d grown up in Nelaro, but Master Grund was better than that.

“But now, we make room for everyone. His Majesty sees to it. Had he taken the throne when he was your age, we’d have called him ‘her majesty’. Lord Gorkle prefers ‘Grand Master Gorkle’ because zie doesn’t identify as male or female, and doesn’t believe our titles should force us to identify as such.”

“‘Zie’?” Roshil asked.

“Gender-neutral pronoun,” Grund replied. He tapped his chair. “My legs have never worked, and when I was married, it wasn’t to a woman. Lady Emgard doesn’t feel the need for companionship at all. Half of the officers come from outside the kingdom, and we accept more people in every day.”

“So everyone’s different,” Roshil said, not understanding the point of the lecture. “But none of them compel people to hate them!”

Grund flipped the metal over in his hands, inspecting it. Roshil caught a glimpse of it, then glanced over at the storage cupboard. Was that her shield?

“You think because you have magic making people distrust you, that you can never fit in?” He glanced at her and let out a laugh that echoed through the forge. “Ha! You think there aren’t people that hated me and my husband because we were different from them? There will always be people that hate you because you’re different. Always remember, Apprentice Roshil, that it’s not you that needs to be fixed.”

He held the shield, closed his eyes, and muttered under his breath. Roshil picked out a few words, but it was all in the arcane language.

“Are you enchanting that?”

“Enchanting something you make happens throughout the crafting process,” he said when he was finished. “You start the enchantment when you start the project. It makes the spell a part of the object, so the two will always live together.”

He wheeled over to her and handed her the shield. It wasn’t perfect. There were rough edges and divots, and it was too small to do any good. It bore a spiral pattern now, with a flower engraved over it.

“All you need is someone to accept you for who and what you are, and help you grow into the best person you can be.” He placed the shield on her wrist, where it stayed without a strap, then extended her arm toward the wall. “Do you know the arcane word for ‘extend’?”

She nodded. “Deistudo.”

“Good. Now, focus on the shield, and say it like you’re reaching out to grab something.”

Beginning to catch on, Roshil focused on the shield and repeated the word.

“Deistudo.”

The shield uncoiled and a thin ribbon snapped out in front of her. The ribbon stopped abruptly when it reached the far wall.

“What’s the word for ‘contract’?” he asked.

She focused on the ribbon returning to her, and said, “Odstowro.”

The shield coiled back up, returning to her wrist to sit snugly as though it had never moved.

“Don’t use it on people in the court,” he said. “Don’t hurt anyone except in self-defense. If you’re going to impress your new friend, don’t do anything stupid.”

Roshil nodded, then frowned when something occurred to her.

“You weren’t at breakfast, how’d you know—”

“You weren’t my first visitor this morning,” he replied.

She nodded again, then looked down at the shield. She noticed the flower pattern again, then asked him about it.

“Everyone has a single, unique name,” he said. “It’s the Naming Phenomenon. For some reason, everyone ends up with a unique name in the arcane language. Do you know what yours means?”

She shook her head, but guessed the answer based on what he’d carved on the shield.

“It’s a type of flower,” he replied. “Like ‘Grund’ is a type of metal. You’ll learn all about that in your time at the court.” He handed her a piece of paper. “That’s your new schedule. Your classes have been rearranged, but I think you’ll find the arcane language classes more enjoyable now. The bad news is that you only get to work on the basics of forging for a few months.”

Roshil nodded again, still more interested in the shield than anything else. It wasn’t big, but it would help keep her safe. It would help her protect herself.

“What you said before,” she said. “About there being a place for everyone. The world isn’t like that.”

“Maybe not the whole world, but we’ve built an entire kingdom on it.”

He picked up his hammer and chisel, then went to put them away.

“Get your apron and gloves. We’re gonna start with the basics today.”

Roshil stuck her new schedule with her old schedule in a pouch on her belt, then followed Master Grund to the furnaces.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

Later that day, Ekla made her way to the forge. She knew Roshil wouldn’t be there. There were a few apprentices and masters running around, working with the furnaces. But the person she’d come to see was there too.

“My Lord High Artisan,” Ekla said, standing to attention. “I humbly request a minute of your time.”

He looked up from the furnaces.

“She’ll be alright,” he said.

Ekla didn’t allow her confusion to show on her face. “My lord?”

“Your equipment’s fine, so unless you want me to knit you a nice sweater or a pair of socks, I can only assume you’re here to ask about Apprentice Roshil.”

She didn’t want to seem out of line, but she knew better than to confront Roshil directly about her feelings. That would get her an “I’m fine!” and a growl for her troubles. She looked around at the other people in the forge. She couldn’t exactly lower her voice with the sounds of the forge all around them.

“Yes, My Lord. May I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Did you send me to the kitchens because you knew she’d be there? So I could talk to her?”

He pulled an iron bar out of his furnace and laid it over an anvil. He took a hammer to it, adding to the sounds of metal striking metal ringing through the forge.

“What do you think?”

“I think so, but I don’t understand why.”

That wasn’t entirely true. She’d been a master for over five years, but she still remembered the feeling of being told to talk to someone without being made to understand why. She’d eventually learned that it was part of the training of a knight. Learning to help anyone, even people you didn’t know.

He turned the iron rod over and started hitting the other side as the tip changed from orange to pink. After it cooled, he wheeled over to the furnace again and shoved the tip of the rod back inside.

“When most people start their apprenticeship, they’ve grown up in the court. They might have dreams of taking the throne one day, or being an officer, or just finding adventure.” He pulled the rod out and returned to striking it on the anvil. “Those people have it hard enough, because being a teenager is difficult on its own. But then there are those who grow up thinking they can’t possibly fit in anywhere.” He glanced at her before fetching a chisel to hold against the rod. “Like your apprentice, for one. Or Apprentice Roshil’s new best friend. Or Apprentice Roshil’s brother, when he gets here in a few months.”

In spite of everything, Ekla smiled to think of the happy little boy with no eyes. As nervous as she was to see him in the castle, she had no doubt he’d manage by himself. He’d gotten good at it over the past five years.

“When there are people like that, it’s important that they find someone to look after them, remind them that the world isn’t horrible like they think it is.”

“I doubt Oshal will ever think the world’s horrible.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “If I may ask, My Lord, why did you assign Roshil to Udra?”

“Master Udra was the only master I had under me that hadn’t had an apprentice yet.”

“For good reason,” Ekla grumbled.

“I’d seen Apprentice Roshil work before. She focuses on the task at hand until it’s finished, so I thought she’d be an easy apprentice to have. Sure, she has some issues with authority, but most people her age do. She wants to do things her own way, so she needs a nudge in the right direction from time to time. When I realized that Master Udra wasn’t doing even that much work, I knew it was time to take over myself.”

He brought the rod over to a press, then bent the rod until it snapped where he’d been chiseling it.

“Do you know what Master Udra called R— Apprentice Roshil?”

“No, but I can guess.” He placed the rest of the rod aside and inspected the piece he’d snapped off. “When I found her in her usual hiding spot, I knew it had to be bad. That’s why I sent you in.”

“That little crevice in the wall near the north tower?” Ekla asked.

“That’s the one.” He placed the piece of metal on the anvil and started hammering it again. “I keep filling that in, but someone keeps breaking through it again.”

Ekla suppressed a laugh. They both knew who that someone was. There was an artisan who always went there when life was too tough. It hadn’t been the first time, and Ekla wished she’d been able to be there for her every time like she’d been this time.

“How’d you know what it did to her?” Ekla asked. “The dragon, I mean. She said you told her to look up ‘dragon-touched’.”

“Lord Velal recognized it when he got her away from that dragon. Lady Emgard confirmed it. They told the rest of us when we considered her for apprenticeship.”

“Why didn’t anyone ever tell her? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?!”

“What was there to tell? That some people would hate her for the rest of her life? That we can’t undo it? That we don’t even know the extent of what it did? Besides, not many people outside the officers knew about it.”

“So?” Ekla’s voice approached a shriek. Some instinct told her not to speak to him like that, but she pushed it aside. Roshil was like family to her.

“Most people won’t know she’s been touched by a dragon. If they did, it could be worse. Every druid will already look at her funny. If they knew, they might start thinking she’s working for the dragon.”

Ekla wanted to argue more, but she knew it hadn’t been his decision. Had they been afraid that she’d tell Roshil and her family? Why had Lord Velal of all people kept her in the dark?

“Have you met her new friend?” Grund asked.

Ekla shook her head, but smiled. “I saw them eating together. Roshil looked happy. I don’t think she’s had friends before.” She frowned. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

“News travels fast.”

Ekla waited for him to elaborate, but he continued to work on his project with no further response.

“Do the others know you told her?”

Lord Grund inspected the metal in his hand that had slowly taken the shape of a blade. After a time, she realized he wasn’t going to answer that question either.

“That will be all, My Lord.”

She stood at attention.

“Keep an eye on her,” he said without taking his eyes off the blade. “Like I said, she needs a nudge in the right direction from time to time.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

She turned and left the forge, letting her mind wander for a moment. It would be hard for Roshil, but Ekla was going to see to it that she was looked after. For now, she had her other responsibilities. She made her way through the castle, wondering where her own apprentice had disappeared to this time.

#VolumeOne #APlaceToBelong

Aonva and Roshil walked through the corridors of the castle. Aonva had been there for months and she still wasn’t used to it. She gazed up at the ceiling overhead and smiled.

“It took them a year to build the castle,” she said. “They had artisans working the whole time. While some slept, others were working. They enchanted defenses into it to keep away threats to the court. Then there were the magic doors. The Queen said she didn’t want a better library than she gave the people. It seemed silly to build two libraries, one for the servants of the court, and one for everyone else. Or two forges, or two schools, or two hospitals. So the High Artisan at the time had an idea to make the doors.”

She turned back to Roshil, who was smiling at her.

“Sorry.” Aonva looked away. “I was rambling again. I… I do that sometimes, especially when I’m nervous, then I keep talking until I’m not, but it never actually helps, so instead I keep talking and don’t stop, and—”

“Do you think they could’ve gotten the doors to work without having to carry our IDs with us?” Roshil asked, stopping her ramblings short.

“I doubt it. Only servants of the court can use them, otherwise it’d leave the castle vulnerable to attack. They had to enchant something, otherwise they’d have to enchant us, and that’s a lot harder. Besides, we can’t leave our rooms without them. Remember the magic doors at the north tower?”

Roshil made a face like she’d just eaten a lemon.

“Now you sound like Master Grund.”

“Sorry! Is that not going well? You seem happy with Our Lord High Artisan teaching you. I guess. I mean, I didn’t know you before that, so—”

“It’s fine.” Roshil grimaced. Aonva liked how expressive she was. She wasn’t afraid to express herself, the thought of which terrified Aonva. “We started knitting yesterday.”

Aonva had to stifle a laugh. She knew artisans needed to know how to make anything the court might need, but the thought of His Lord High Artisan — or Roshil — sitting around and knitting was too strange for her.

They didn’t have long before they both had class, but they had just enough time to explore part of the castle. While Aonva had wanted to spend their free time in the library, Roshil had dragged her along on “an adventure”. As Aonva studied more of their surroundings, she checked her mental map of the castle.

“This is… We’re near the west tower.”

“Yup.” Roshil pointed up ahead at the end of the corridor. A single door stood at the end. “Remember last week when you wondered about where the officers lived?”

Beyond that door were the private chambers of the six officers of the court and His Majesty, along with a meeting room. To say they’d be in trouble if they managed to get inside would be an understatement.

“I did, but we shouldn’t be here.” Aonva glanced back down the corridor for anyone coming.

Roshil glanced behind them, then crouched down to see the lock on the door. She inspected it for a moment, then produced a pair of long, thin pieces of metal from a pouch on her belt.

“Are those lock picks?” Aonva lowered her voice, fearing that raising her voice would cause one of the officers to materialize behind them. “Did you make those? Why did you make those?”

More questions flooded her head while Roshil remained silent. Why hadn’t His Lord High Artisan stopped her? Had he realized she was making them? He must have noticed them.

“Roshil.” Aonva pleaded with her friend. She didn’t want to know what would happen if someone happened to glance down the corridor and see them. They were exposed to another corridor not far away, save the lack of lighting in the area. Someone could spot them at any moment.

“My father says that if they don’t want you to get in, then they need to protect it better.” Roshil slid the pieces of metal inside and began to work them. “I’m surprised they even have a door. Why not a magic one that only they can use, like our rooms?”

“Who cares?” Despite her saying it, Aonva was wondering the same thing. She knew the officers’ families lived in the castle with them, but they could have baubles like the ones that let the apprentices use the doors out of the castle. Why have a door to their private chambers that could so easily be passed? They’d discovered that they couldn’t enter the other’s room. Was that why? Have a regular door so other people could enter?

She glanced back over her shoulder. No one was there. How had no one come by yet?

Aonva kept her eyes on the corridor. With luck, Roshil would get bored when it was too difficult. That didn’t stop Aonva’s heart from pounding in her ears.

“I know I asked about it, but I… I was just rambling. I didn’t think—”

“Ha!” Roshil leaped to her feet and pushed the door open. Despite the possible felony she’d just committed, she wore a grin like an excited child. “Told you I could do it.”

“How—”

“I grew up outside the kingdoms,” Roshil said as though it were obvious. “Cities didn’t always give us food, so me and my father would… improvise.” She pushed the door farther. “Shall we find the answer to your question?”

The two of them looked through the open door. Beyond it was another corridor, that ended with… another door.

The excited look faded from Roshil’s face. Like the magic doors in the rest of the castle, this one had no handle. In fact, it looked exactly like another magic door.

“The first one’s enchanted to make people ignore it,” a new voice said. “Obviously, it doesn’t work on some people.”

Aonva whirled around. All things considered, there were worse people to catch them breaking and entering.

“Apprentice Aonva, Apprentice Roshil.” Master Ekla stood with her arms folded. Behind her, a boy not much older than them wore an expression that looked sympathetic, yet implied he’d rather they be in trouble than him. “I’m sure this isn’t as bad as it looks.”

“Nope!” Roshil closed the door behind her. “Nothing to see except two apprentices learning about their new home.”

Master Ekla covered her face with her hand and sighed.

“One warning. That’s all I’m giving you. That door’s locked for a reason. I don’t want to catch you here again.”

“Then you and your apprentice shouldn’t be following us,” Roshil said, her voice taking on a slight edge.

Aonva was too stunned to express any emotion at that. Not only did Roshil seem to refuse to learn manners, but she’d accused a master of following them! Master Ekla wasn’t following them, was she? Aonva thought back on the past few weeks. She’d seen Master Ekla plenty of times, but not enough that she’d met her apprentice. Thinking about it, she’d never seen Master Ekla before she and Roshil became friends, but now she always seemed to be right around the corner.

Master Ekla glanced back at her apprentice. “Apprentice Kurgm.” The boy stood at attention. “This is Apprentice Roshil and Apprentice Aonva. If anyone asks, you didn’t see them here.”

Kurgm. Haven’t I heard that name somewhere?

“It’s really not that interesting,” Kurgm said. “The officers don’t spend much time in their rooms anyway. It’s mostly a bigger version of our rooms, split into smaller rooms for their families. Most of them don’t even bother decorating them.”

“Thank you, Apprentice Kurgm,” Master Ekla said. Aonva could hear her patience dying in her voice. “You two have arcane language class.”

“Because every good stalker knows her prey’s schedule,” Roshil muttered.

“We’re leaving.” Aonva grabbed Roshil’s hand. “Thank you for your kindness, Master Ekla.” She turned to Kurgm. “It was nice to meet you, Apprentice Kurgm.”

“We’ll run into them after class too,” Roshil said as Aonva pulled her away. “Completely by coincidence, I’m sure.”

Aonva didn’t slow down for anything until they’d passed through the door to the school and her heart had stopped beating so loud. She paused for a breath before going any further. She checked the time. They’d be late for class if they didn’t keep moving.

“We have to get to class,” Aonva said.

Roshil smiled and nodded. If Aonva hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have known Roshil had been caught breaking and entering moments ago.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to see it,” Roshil said.

“It’s really fine. Let’s just get to class.”

They went to class, trying not to run in their haste. When they arrived, they found they weren’t the only ones who hadn’t arrived yet. A few of the students from outside the castle weren’t there either.

They both took seats at the back of the room. Master Dordir waited until the last students had arrived before greeting them.

“Good morning, class.”

They all stood at attention and addressed him with a chorus of “Good morning, Master Dordir”. Once they had, they took their seats again.

He faced the board and wrote words for them to copy. Each one was an emotion. As Aonva copied them down, she filed them away in her head, wondering how she could use them.

While she was writing, she heard a noise. It was small, like a squeak or… a whimper.

She turned and saw Roshil staring at the board. Her body trembled slightly. Every few seconds, a whimper escaped her lips.

Then she screamed.

#VolumeOne #MakingFriends

Roshil fell out of her chair and stumbled back. She curled up and buried her head in her arms.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed.

Aonva stared at her. Her mind ground to a halt. She wanted to help Roshil. She wanted her to stop screaming, to smile again. Aonva loved it when Roshil smiled. Should she try running to her? Would that help?

Master Dordir ran across the room to Roshil. He checked her over, then covered his mouth with his hands. He whispered something, then blew on his palm. Snowflakes appeared and fluttered through the air on his breath.

A messenger spell.

“No!” Roshil backed away from Master Dordir. “No more! Please! Leave me alone!”

Roshil’s screams mixed with sobs. She trembled and recoiled from Dordir’s touch.

“Apprentice Roshil, can you hear me?”

Roshil didn’t answer. Aonva wanted to rush over to her friend’s side, but what then? What would she say? Would it make things better or worse? What if she only got in the way? What was happening? Why didn’t she know?

Roshil continued her fit until help arrived. Two people dressed in white tunics bearing a pattern of three green arcs arranged in a bigger arc, the symbol for the hospital.

Roshil hates the hospital.

Aonva could only imagine how upset Roshil would be when she calmed down and realized she was in the hospital. Should Aonva say something? Perhaps His Lord High Artisan would know what to do? Or Master Ekla? How was she not right there the one time Aonva needed her?

Before Aonva could make words come out of her mouth, the two attendants carried Roshil out of the room. Aonva watched her friend leave, then wondered if she could go with her. Maybe it’d be better if Roshil had a friend with her.

It’d be better if she weren’t there at all.

Master Dordir stood up and returned to the front of the classroom.

“Is everyone else alright?”

Aonva became aware of the whispers between people around the room. Many of them glanced back at her. She caught words like “crazy” and “wrong”. There was nothing wrong with Roshil, she’d been attacked. Even Aonva didn’t know most of the details. She suspected she wouldn’t know any of it if she hadn’t been there when Roshil learned about her condition. Aonva was always too afraid to ask.

That night, Aonva had been researching the origin of magic and the dragons that had taught it to humans. It made her smile to think that if she’d been anywhere else, she wouldn’t have bumped into Roshil. Or if she’d left, she wouldn’t have made a new friend.

Roshil’s eyes were hard to look at sometimes, and Aonva could feel a sense that there was something not quite right about Roshil, but her friend never cared that Aonva was different too. And no one else stood up for her like Roshil did (even if it wasn’t always helpful). Her parents had always dismissed her ramblings and ignored her questions.

The whispers died down, and Master Dordir continued with class. Aonva copied down everything he said. Roshil would need to know what she’d missed. While she was writing, Aonva looked over her notes, wondering what had set off Roshil. It had to have reminded her of the dragon, but what?

They’d been copying down words at the time. What word was it? She looked at the list while Master Dordir talked about the importance of understanding the words. They were emotions. Had the dragon used them a lot? Had it been part of the spell he’d put on her?

Shorarl (love), Melyuk (hate), Keska (hope), Valign (fear), Vorum (courage). The list went on, but she couldn’t tell what it had been without talking to Roshil. Was it safe to bring it up? What if she made it worse by asking? What good did it do either of them to know what had happen?

Aonva tried to put it out of her mind, but she was worried about her friend. Unlike Roshil, Aonva couldn’t do anything to help. Roshil didn’t always make a situation better, tending to have the opposite effect, but she tried. She was right there to stand up for Aonva, but when Roshil had needed Aonva’s help, she’d froze.

Aonva focused on taking notes. That would help a little, so Roshil wouldn’t have to miss anything.

If I’d done something sooner, maybe she wouldn’t be missing anything.

She hardly thought about anything else the entire time she was in class. By the time she was finished, she was determined to figure out what had happened. After class, she found somewhere out of the way and sat down.

She closed her eyes and went into her library. The massive, organized collection of books materialized in her head. It wasn’t perfect, of course, because it wasn’t real, but it was good enough that she could usually find what she needed.

She walked along the rows of books, heading for the same section she’d been in the real library the night she’d met Roshil. The section on dragons. Nothing else bothered Roshil. In the weeks Aonva had known her, nothing phased her. They’d been picked on by people in the corridors, everyone gave them both dirty looks, and she was sure Master Udra was carrying a grudge. But Roshil ignored all of it.

Unless dragons came up. She was uncomfortable talking about them. She’d growl under her breath while working on any classwork involving dragons. Aonva never asked about her attack, but there must’ve been something about it in the library. It’d been five years ago, she knew that much. So she must’ve read something about it.

She walked along the rows of books until she came to the section on dragons. Once she’d found where she’d put the history of dragons, she took the book and went through it in her head.

Years ago, she’d happened upon a book about remembering information. It’d said that anyone could remember anything, so long as there was a path to it in your head. Aonva had spent years working on it, and once she’d gotten good at it, she’d tried to absorb as much information as she could, filing away every piece of information she got her hands on.

She had information on the history of dragons in Skwyr Court, so there must’ve been something about a dragon taking someone prisoner. Magic wasn’t easy to do on the spot, even for dragons. It must’ve taken her somewhere, and someone would’ve written about it.

She picked through every piece of information she had, but she didn’t find anything on an attack on Skwyr in the last five years. Instead, she found attacks on other places. Nelaro Court, followed shortly by a brief reference to the Lapurela tribe, a group of nomads outside the kingdoms wiped out by the same dragon.

I grew up outside the kingdoms.

But when she reached for the name, she came up empty. It wasn’t there! Why wasn’t it there? Was it not in the real books? Had she somehow forgotten it?

Without the name, she couldn’t dig any deeper. She picked through everything else she knew, but there wasn’t much more than that. She still didn’t know what had upset Roshil so much. She was back where she started.

“Lapurela.” It was the arcane word for “family”. That name was something she hadn’t had before, but it didn’t tell her why Roshil was upset. She still couldn’t help her friend. Roshil had always tried to help her, even when she didn’t want it. When it was Aonva’s turn to help her, she was useless.

Maybe there’s a reason I’ve never had friends. Maybe I’m not supposed to have friends.

#VolumeOne #MakingFriends

Aonva dragged herself to Master Kaernin after class. As always, she found him waiting for her in silence. He watched her as she entered, waiting for her to talk.

“Rule One,” she recited, “Command the effect with absolute desire in the arcane language. Rule Two: Absolute desire requires absolute understanding. Rule Three: Don’t waste words.”

She’d read plenty of books about magic before beginning her apprenticeship, but never had she read those rules before. She understood how magic was supposed to work, but every book seemed to take paragraphs to explain what Master Kaernin had explained in a few sentences.

He nodded, then motioned for her to join him on the floor. She sat down in front of him, then he spoke words in the arcane language.

Aonva struggled for a moment, but slowly translated it in her head. He repeated it again to help her while she worked through it. When she was finished, she repeated it back to him.

It was a spell to create a small ball of light in her hand. When she’d first started learning magic, she was surprised by how precise it was. In this case, the exact size of the ball of light was dictated. Without being specific, it was impossible to understand the spell, and anything could happen.

She closed her eyes and imagined absolute darkness. The words rang through her head. She concentrated on them, on the darkness, on how the light would look. She prepared to cast the spell.

Echos of Roshil’s screams cut through her thoughts. She spoke the words, but her focus was gone. A spark appeared in her hand, but vanished moments after it appeared.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what happened! I was trying, then… I don’t know what happened!”

Master Kaernin stared at her, waiting for her to try again.

She calmed herself down, then closed her eyes again. Before she could start reciting the spell, Roshil’s screams broke out again. She couldn’t block it out, but she tried. The light flickered again, but weaker than before. She tried twice more before Master Kaernin stood up.

She followed him out of the room and through the castle. She’d learned to pick up nonverbal cues from Master Kaernin. If he stood up, she was expected to follow. She didn’t ask where they were going; she’d find out eventually.

Today, they walked to the gardens. Families from all over the city were there, it being one of the many public areas connected to the castle. Children ran through the flowers, laughing together.

Why is it so easy for other people?

Aonva thought of Roshil again. Her only friend, the friend she’d let down. Why could other people have friends? Why was it easy for them? What was wrong with her?

They sat down on a bench together. Aonva looked around, but all she saw were plants and people. Master Kaernin usually gave her some kind of assignment or some task. What was she supposed to be learning? Was he going to speak, or would today be one of the many days he said nothing to her?

Time passed, and still Master Kaernin said nothing to her. Children came and went, but then she caught sight of a familiar face. It was Master Ekla’s apprentice, whose name Aonva had already forgotten. He walked among the flowers, smiling as he looked them over.

Master Kaernin spoke a single word: “Wait”. Then he stood up and walked over to the boy. He placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder to get his attention. The boy stood at attention, then Master Kaernin nodded at Aonva.

Aonva’s mind began to race. What was going on? Why was Master Kaernin directing Master Ekla’s apprentice to her? Did he know about Roshil breaking into the west tower? Did he know about Roshil screaming in class? If he did, why was he directing the boy to talk to her?

Master Kaernin left the gardens, and the boy came over to talk to her.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Aonva said, hoping to dance around the fact that she’d forgotten his name.

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”

“That’s alright. I… I forgot yours too.”

His smile turned into a laugh, then he motioned to the bench.

“Is it alright if I join you?”

“Sure.”

“I’m Kurgm,” he said as he sat down.

“Aonva.”

“Nice to see you again. Before you ask, Master Ekla didn’t send me here to check on you. I spend most of my free time in the gardens.”

“It’s only Roshil that thinks she’s doing that.”

The mention of Roshil brought with it the memory of class. Roshil was sitting in the hospital, alone, and Aonva was sitting here wasting time.

What if I make it worse?

“What’s wrong?” Kurgm asked.

Aonva sat up, having sunk in her seat.

“What? Why… no, nothing’s wrong.”

“Sorry, only… you look like something’s bothering you. Like your mind’s somewhere else.” He frowned then looked around. “Where’s Roshil? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“Well, right now, I’m wondering why my master just left.”

Kurgm glanced at the entrance, then back to Aonva. “I… I don’t know, he didn’t say anything to me, just pointed me over to you. I guess he wants me to talk to you, but… I don’t know why. I mean… every time Master Ekla tells me to talk to someone, it’s because they need help. As a knight, I’m supposed to be able to help anyone in trouble, so when I’m directed to someone sitting alone, it’s because I’m supposed to help them. Except that… I’m not really that good at it.”

Thoughts of Roshil stuck in her head. No one could help her.

“I don’t think you can help me.”

“I might be able to if you tell me what’s bothering you.”

He watched her, waiting for her to say something. For once, Aonva wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“Alright, I’ll start. Master Ekla wasn’t following you today. I don’t think she’s following you at all, she’s just worried about Roshil. Today, though, I told her someone had broken into the west tower. She immediately assumed it was Roshil and ran to get there before anyone else knew about it. Luckily, we weren’t far.”

“What? How did you know?”

“There’s a spell on the door that alerts anyone in the castle that lives in the west tower when that door’s opened.”

Aonva sank in her seat again. She couldn’t believe it; every officer knew they’d broken in. No, he said he’d known “someone” had broken in, which meant they hadn’t know who it was. And how did he know at all? He didn’t live in the west tower, did he? He couldn’t, he wasn’t an officer, unless… was he family to one of the officers? She didn’t think any of them had family. Roshil had mentioned Lord Grund being married once, and she was pretty sure Lord Velal had a wife, but she didn’t think they had children. She’d always assumed the officers were too busy for families.

“How did you know about it?” she asked.

“I used to live in the west tower. They still let me go inside.”

“But—”

“Your turn. What’s bothering you?”

She knew when someone was dodging a question. She’d done it any time Roshil had asked about her parents. It was one more thing that kept them apart, that proved Aonva wasn’t a good friend. Even Roshil had mentioned something about her parents from time to time. She never mentioned her mother, but she talked about her father and brother often enough. As Aonva had learned today, her father could pick locks.

“Well… Roshil started screaming in class today. I don’t know exactly why, but I have an idea. We were copying down words in the arcane language, and she started screaming, shouting for everyone to stay away from her. And I… I froze. I couldn’t do anything! I just sat there, watching my only friend getting scared, and then they took her to the hospital, and I still didn’t do anything. I didn’t ask to go with her, I didn’t try to calm her down, I just sat and stared.”

By now, tears had formed in Aonva’s eyes. If dwelling on it had made it worse, reliving it was making it unbearable. Then finally, the thought she’d been having for an hour broke free and manifested into words.

“Maybe I’m not supposed to have friends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kurgm asked. “Everyone can have friends. I grew up in the castle, and even I had friends.”

Aonva buried her head in her hands. Kurgm was right; he wasn’t good at this. Now she was sure something was wrong with her.

“What I mean is… my parents weren’t there, so the servants looked after me. They’d let me into the kitchens after curfew, give me dessert early, or get me warmer blankets if I was cold.” A grin spread over his face. “We used to play hide-and-seek in the castle, but I was bad at it. I always chose the same few places.”

Aonva’s mind drifted back to Roshil as Kurgm spoke. The only friend she’d ever had, and she’d let her down.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have friends.”

Kurgm didn’t say anything for a moment. He shifted in his seat, fidgeted, but didn’t say anything. Then he opened his mouth.

“It’s never that simple. Just because you froze, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have friends. You care about her still. That’s something. There’s a reason you froze.”

“Which is?”

“I don’t know, and it’s none of my business anyway. That’s for you to find out. But you’re not going to figure it out in one day. You may never know. But I know it’s not something simple, because things like that are never that simple.”

As Kurgm talked, his expression changed. The goofy smile slid into a frown. His gaze was distant. Aonva was sure he was remembering something.

“You’re better at this than you think,” Aonva said.

The goofy smile returned to Kurgm’s face.

“Am I? Someone should tell Master Ekla that.” He nodded toward the door back to the castle. “Go see Roshil. I’m sure she misses you too.”

“What if I make it worse?”

“Just being there will make her feel better. It’s what I’d want my friends to do.”

Aonva still didn’t have answers she wanted, but something told her Kurgm was right. Maybe she wouldn’t know. But one thing she did know, was that her friend was still all alone. Master Kaernin was gone, so she was free to do as she wanted. And she wanted to see Roshil.

“Thank you.” Aonva stood up. “Thank you for your help.”

Kurgm nodded toward the entrance to the gardens.

“Go on. She’s waiting.”

Aonva turned and left the gardens. She made her way through the castle. She was still scared, but there was every possibility that she could make it better.

#VolumeOne #MakingFriends

Aonva walked through the door to the hospital. The tingling she got passed, and she walked up to the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” she said, then waited for the woman at the desk to look up at her.

“Name?” the woman asked.

“Apprentice Aonva. I’m here to see Apprentice Roshil.”

The woman looked through her notes, then wrote down something.

“Room 216. Don’t stay long. Don’t set her off.”

“What might set her off? What’s that mean? Can I still talk to her? I just want to see her. Is it safe for me—”

“Room 216.” The woman finally looked up from her paperwork. “She’s been asking for you since she woke up.”

Aonva still had more questions, but she shoved them down and nodded.

“Thank you.”

Aonva left the desk and walked up two flights of stairs. She walked down the hall, following the signs.

210. 212.

While she walked, she thought of the woman’s words. What if Aonva made it worse? What if she said something to upset Roshil? How did Roshil manage to be better at this? Roshil wasn’t the best at communicating, but at least Aonva knew Roshil cared. Was there something wrong with her?

Of course, there is. I grew up surrounded by arguing.

She stopped when she reached room 216. She stared at the door, fear sliding through her head. She could imagine all the ways it would go wrong. Without knowing what had set off Roshil in class, there was no telling what might set her off again.

She’s been asking for you.

Aonva closed her eyes and knocked on the door.

“What?” Roshil snapped from behind the door.

“It’s me.”

The door creaked open. Aonva pushed passed it and into the room. It was a little bigger than their rooms, which only had space for a bed, drawers under the bed, and a small washroom. At least this one had chairs were she could sit.

Roshil lay on the bed, her back to the rest of the room. She rolled over, and Aonva saw the telltale signs that Roshil had been crying.

Aonva pulled one of the chairs over to the bed and sat down.

“What happened?” Aonva asked.

“You saw what happened.” Roshil pulled her sheets a little higher. “I screamed in the middle of class.”

“I know, but why?”

Roshil’s eyes darted around the room. Aonva thought she was searching for something, but soon realized that Roshil was avoiding eye contact.

“Valign.”

Aonva frowned, pulling up her notes from class in her head.

“The arcane word for ‘fear’?”

“What about it?” she asked when Roshil didn’t say anything more.

Roshil tightened her grip on the blanket. Tears welled up in her eyes. Panic hit Aonva, and her mind spun out of control, desperate to understand what she’d done.

Then she realized something simple. It didn’t matter. Maybe the dragon had used the word for fear. Maybe that was part of its name. If she understood now, she might make it worse anyway. What mattered was that Roshil was there, and she needed her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, struggling to think of something better to say. She had to calm down Roshil, but how? What would normal people do? Ask their parents? She couldn’t call upon wisdom of her parents, they’d never helped calm her down.

My parents were never around.

Kurgm had helped her. How? What had he said to make her feel better? It’s never that simple. That didn’t apply here. What else had he said? Aonva ran through their conversation in her head, but came up short. Was she overthinking it? Maybe she was. What if that was it? Stop overthinking.

“It can’t hurt you here!” she blurted. “A dragon tried getting into the court 12 years ago, but she didn’t make it far. Lady Enrakal, the last True Knight, stopped her almost single-handed. And His Majesty wouldn’t let a dragon get through, either. Some people say he’s the most powerful person alive. Of course, he’s a master in all six specialties, that’s what you have to do to become king. Or queen, of course. You probably knew that. I think you’re a lot smarter than you want people to think you are. Like me, really. I hate getting attention. That’s why I don’t want to get into trouble. I don’t know where I’m going with this, I’m just really scared, but I want you to know it’s safe here. Besides, Master Ekla would never let anything happen to you, and even though Our Lord High Artisan doesn’t say much to anyone apart from you really, I think he’s got more defenses on the castle than he admits to. Or, should it be ‘to which he admits’? I don’t know, I’m just talking. Is this helping? I’m annoying you, aren’t I? My parents hate it when I talk too much. They’re decent people, even if they argue all the time. I think they can’t stand each other, even if they’re both too stubborn to split up. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, maybe because you’re my only friend, and I feel awful about not saying or doing anything. Please say something.”

Roshil didn’t say anything when Aonva finally stopped herself. She sprang out of bed and threw her arms around Aonva. Aonva felt tears on her neck as Roshil buried her face in it.

“Thank you,” Roshil said through her sobs.

Aonva didn’t know which part of that had made Roshil feel better. All it’d done for Aonva was make her feel embarrassed. Her stomach was full of butterflies, her hands shook, but she put her arms around Roshil all the same.

“You’re my best friend, Roshil,” Aonva said. “I… I’m just not good at making friends. I… I’ve never had friends. I’ve only had books and information.”

“I was scared,” Roshil whispered. “That’s what he does. He makes you afraid of him. He…” She shook her head, which was still buried. “I don’t… I can’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything. He… His Majesty won’t let him return. You’re safe.”

They sat together in the chair, curled around one another. Roshil’s tears subsided, but still neither spoke. Aonva wanted to keep reassuring Roshil, but she didn’t think she needed to say anything.

Don’t waste words.

Aonva didn’t know if her ramblings had helped her friend, but she knew one thing. She’d applied for apprenticeship because she’d wanted to learn everything. Maybe even get away from her parents. It’d never been about helping people, but now it was. Now she wanted to put everything she knew to work. She would make sure that no dragons… that nothing ever attacked the kingdom. She would make sure Roshil felt safe.

#VolumeOne #MakingFriends

A bauble near his bed woke Kurgm up well before the sun came up. He stumbled through his room to the washroom, tapping the panel to illuminate the room. After cleaning himself up, he got dressed in clean clothes, grabbed his belt and checked the pouches, then slung his pack over his shoulder and left his room.

The door to his room brought him to the base of the north tower. Few people, much less apprentices, woke up as early as he did, so the corridors weren’t full of people yet. His walk down to the kitchens for an early morning snack was quiet. The kitchen staff was already preparing breakfast, but many of them smiled and greeted him on their way past where he sat.

When he was finished, he left the kitchens and headed for the east wing. More people were awake and moving, but it wasn’t until he reached the door to the temple did he hear noise.

He walked through the door and out of the castle, into the main chamber of the Temple of the Rising Sun. Already people were gathering before the statue of the Goddess Olmgra, laying out mats on which they could kneel without resting on the stone floor. People came in from the castle and the city alike. The windows near the roof already let the first rays of light into the chamber.

Kurgm found an empty spot on the floor and laid out his own mat. He kneeled and looked into the kind eyes of Olmgra. She wore a robe and hood, with wide, welcoming arms and a loving smile.

Bells tolled for the start of the Sun Welcoming Ceremony, and the noise stopped. People found their places as a priest wearing blue and white robes walked into the chamber, carrying a wooden staff. Strips of wood were woven together, branching out at the end to represent life’s infinite possibilities. Behind her walked two younger priests, apprentices by the look of them, although Kurgm never got a chance to talk to any of them. All three of them had their hoods over their heads.

The three priests took places in front of the statue, facing the gathered people. Without speaking, they knelt down and bowed their heads. One of the apprentices held chimes that jingled softly. They grew louder, and as they did, people began to rise. Light slowly flooded the chamber as the sun rose. All other light had been dimmed in preparation, putting the night in the past to welcome the day.

When they stood tall, everyone lifted their heads to the sky.

“Nira!”

All voices joined together to welcome the sun, calling its name in the arcane language. The call echoed through the stone chamber, now filled with the light of day.

“May you all bear the hope of a new day,” the priest said. She raised the staff. “And may Olmgra smile down upon you.”

The priests had their hoods lowered, giving Kurgm a good look at their faces. One of the apprentices was new. Not only that, but something about her was familiar. Kurgm rolled up his mat, not having time to talk.

After the ceremony, Kurgm returned to his room to grab his gear for the day. He attached his sword to his belt, then added light armor to his clothes. When he left his room, he found the reason he could never stay and talk to people at the temple waiting for him.

Master Ekla tossed him two pouches, one with rations, another with water.

“What’s this?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Breakfast.” She motioned for him to follow her. “We’re on patrol today.”

“What’s going on?”

“Protests.”

When they stepped outside of the castle, Kurgm slid gloves over his hands. His breath turned to mist in the air, but the cold didn’t slow Master Ekla’s pace at all. She strode into the city, forcing him to trot to keep up with her.

“How was the Sun Welcoming Ceremony?” she asked.

“The same as always. Later, because it’s the cold season. Since when do you ask?”

“I’m your master, I’m supposed to take an interest in your life.”

She’d been his master for over a year, and in that time, she’d made it clear that she didn’t care for any of the deities.

They didn’t need to walk far for him to hear the chanting. Master Ekla led him through the city, where he saw other knights posted to keep an eye on things. Eventually they reached their place.

“We stand here,” she said. “We don’t respond, no matter how much they taunt us. We don’t attack, we defend.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why are they protesting?”

Master Ekla eyed him, then nodded toward the protesters.

“Can’t you read their signs?”

Kurgm squinted, but couldn’t make out the words from their post.

“You need glasses.”

It wasn’t a question. Kurgm knew it, but he couldn’t imagine needing them.

“Your father always wore them too,” Ekla said. “We’ll take you to Our Lord High Artisan when we get back.” She nodded at the signs again. “The dragon attack last week. It wiped out a farm just outside the city limits. Without it, there’s no food.”

“Why are they protesting? What are they protesting? Do they think we did this?”

“In a way, yes. A few years ago, His Majesty and the officers created a truce with the dragons. The intention was to stop this from happening, but it doesn’t work unless everyone sticks to the agreement.”

“And?”

“And a dragon didn’t stick to the agreement. We’re working on getting to the bottom of it.”

“Don’t they know what’s going on?”

“Of course they do. We tell them within seven days of finding out there’s a problem, at most. This time, it was the same day. We have to be honest with the people if we want them to trust us.”

Kurgm nodded. He’d heard the same thing before, probably from the same person that had told it to Master Ekla.

“Just because they understand, doesn’t mean they’re okay with it. It’s easy enough to understand someone taking your money because they need it for their starving family, but it doesn’t mean you’re not upset that they took it.”

Kurgm turned back to the protesters. He wondered if there was anything he could do to help, beyond standing and watching. He wasn’t paid as an apprentice; they were provided food, shelter, and clothes, but their families had to pay for anything else they needed.

“Is there anything we can do?”

“We’re doing it now. It’s our job to make sure everyone stays safe. Knights are posted all over the city to ensure this protest stays peaceful.”

“But that doesn’t change things for them.”

Ekla shook her head. “It doesn’t, but His Majesty will fix this. He always does. There are procedures in place for this. In a few days, things will improve, and in another few, the protests will die down.”

Kurgm couldn’t remember a time when the city dissolved into chaos, so he was sure His Majesty would fix it this time too.

Why hasn’t he fixed it already?

Kurgm dismissed the thought. Everything would be fine. He focused on the protests. People were yelling, angry, upset, but they didn’t get too close.

“Do these often turn violent?” he asked.

“Not often, but everyone else feels better when we’re here,” Ekla replied. “Some people use protests as a cover to loot some of the shops in the area.”

The people slowly stopped marching, and all turned to face a few people in particular. One of them held what looked like a cup to their mouth.

“Good people of Skwyr,” the woman said, her voice amplified by the object in her hand. “Last week, we lost friends to a dragon attack. An attack the castle promised would never happen again! Because of their lies, we’ve lost people and food. The cold season is upon us! Without that food, what will happen to the rest of us? Will we perish too? Or will the castle do something about it?”

Cheers went up through the crowd.

“We will not be ignored! It isn’t for His Majesty to handle in his own time! We demand action! We demand that our children are fed and protected! What did we get out of this so-called treaty His Majesty formed with the dragons? What’s to stop them from burning all of our homes down? From killing more of our people?”

Amid more cheers, Kurgm frowned and shook his head. His Majesty must’ve thought of that when he formed the treaty. A few years back, Kurgm remembered hearing about it in the castle. It was a wonderful thing, safety from the dragons, enforced by the friendly ones. He’d had the same question a week ago when he’d heard about the attack before: What had happened to the treaty?

“We demand that His Majesty comes out here and answers for himself! We demand justice!”

“They’re wrong.”

“Sh!” Ekla hissed. “Don’t say anything. Sit, listen, watch. That’s all we need to do. Anything else will make it worse.”

“His Majesty is too far above us to care! What are we to him? His loyal subjects? Or his willing slaves?”

Ekla’s hand shot out and grabbed Kurgm’s arm before he could take a step. He could barely think straight. How could they talk about His Majesty that way? He was one of the kindest people Kurgm had met. Kurgm was sure His Majesty would starve long before he let anyone else do so.

“They don’t know him,” she said, keeping her voice down. “To them, he’s any other king. They haven’t met him like we have, and he can’t come out in person to quell every uprising. Our job is to make sure news of this gets back to him. For now, we listen and watch.”

Kurgm did just that for the next few hours. He listened to them talk about the king like he was a tyrant. More people spoke, saying much the same as the first. They all told stories of hungry families, of food shortages, of fear. How bad was this?

“Worse than we thought,” Ekla said when he asked. What worried him most was how concerned she was. She watched the protests with a furrowed brow. It was worse than she’d realized, and that was worse than anything the protesters could say or do.

Kurgm kept himself calm, but the question had taken root.

Why isn’t His Majesty fixing this?

#VolumeOne #KeepingThePeace