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  As Farrah neared her sixteenth birthday her mother began to get sick. Eirin hid it from Caelen for quite some time with Farrah’s help. She thought it would pass, but it didn’t. Caelen came to learn of his wife’s illness when she began to cough uncontrollably at a state banquet and eventually began coughing up blood before fainting in his arms. The next day he sent a request to the Emerald Sisters for aid. Upon learning of his wife’s deception, even though it was done without malice, his feelings of mistrust and insecurity from his youth began surfacing, little by little. His adoration for Eirin shielded her from these feelings, but their daughter, who aided in the deception, was not as lucky. Although he loved his daughter, he began to challenge the things she would say, and the authenticity of her feelings toward himself and her mother. He would shower her with love one minute and then treat her like a stranger the next. But, this all began to happen very slowly.

  The Emerald Sister arrived one month from the day King Caelen sent his request for aid. According to the letter that accompanied Sister Aislyn, she had been the only one close enough to deal with the symptoms expressed in the King’s letter. However, she was already in service to the King of Larutte as Sister-in-waiting to the king, and as such had to be recalled. But, that took some time, because King Alric was not willing to part with such a skilled healer so easily. While Aislyn’s arrival was greeted with joy and hope, a bitter taste for King Alric took hold of Caelen. Aislyn tried all that she could to save the Queen. Some of her treatments would abate the symptoms for a time, but this was probably worse for everyone, creating false hope. As time passed and Eirin’s health continued to decline, King Caelen began to mistrust the Sister more and more. He changed her quarters from a fresh air, spacious one with sunlight in the morning, to a small dank room in the lower reaches of the castle. He began to see his wife’s sudden abatements and reoccurrences of symptoms as part of a plot constructed by Aislyn and King Alric to attack him at his most vulnerable place. This went on for months and then years. Finally, as Farrah neared her eighteenth birthday none of Aislyn’s treatments had any effect on the symptoms and Eirin rapidly grew worse.

  The morning of Farrah’s eighteenth birthday Eirin looked as if she had never been sick. She was bright and vibrant. She was as lovely as the day Caelen had first laid eyes on her. Eirin had spent most of the morning with Farrah. They walked in the garden and spoke of what life would be like for Farrah now that she was eighteen. But mainly, they listened to the birds sing and raced stones across the pond when no one was watching. That morning had been the best either had had in quite some time, and the time flew by for them both. Eirin hugged Farrah tightly, kissed her forehand and produced a small box from someplace in her dress.

  Farrah’s eyes grew wide. Just spending this time with her mother was good enough for her. “Open it,” Eirin said.

  Farrah unwrapped the light green satin cloth covering the present. She could feel that it was hard and made of metal. Beneath the cloth was another cloth of a brilliant white satin. As she ran her fingers over it, she felt both the smoothness of the satin and the firm curves of the object concealed in the cloth. She smiled, then unwrapped the final piece of cloth to reveal a bracelet of silver with a ruby set in its center bordered by an amethyst on each side. Each stone was framed by intricate floral engravings ending midway down the sides of the bracelet. “This was… your mother’s…” Farrah said looking up at her mother.

  “It was. And, her mother’s mother’s, and her mother’s mother’s mother’s. It’s been handed down to the women of our family for generations when they come of age.”

  Eirin placed the bracelet on her daughter’s left wrist. She smiled “It looks good on you. The ruby represents the fire that burns in the hearts of all women. And, also our red hair,” Eirin said as she flipped her hair with a smile.

  “The green represents the earth and nature. It borders the ruby because we are of the earth and are the most like nature, in that we bring forth life. Neverforget the strength and responsibility that comes with being a woman. No matter what some men may say,” Eirin said as she ran the back of her hand against her daughter’s cheek. “And, know that no matter where you go, you carry a piece of me and the rest of our family with you in this bracelet.”

  “I…” Farrah rubbed her eye, “thank you.” Farrah squeezed Eirin tightly. “Can we stay here, like this, forever momma? I don’t want to see you sick anymore. I miss you.”

  “I can’t promise you that, my love. But, you have me all to yourself until dinner this evening,” Eirin replied as she kissed her daughter’s forehead and stroked her dark red hair.

  As the evening approached, Caelen joined them for dinner in the hall. What would have been a big banquet, was kept small, with only a few close and trusted lords and family members present. Caelen had the cooks prepare a dish of quail, Eirin’s favorite. Since she seemed to be feeling better, he wanted her to enjoy a delicious meal. The dinner went off without incident. Farrah was celebrated for becoming a woman in the eyes of the kingdom. She received many gifts, but the only one that really mattered to her was her mother being there to hug her and kiss her after she performed the rites for the ceremony. She had been practicing for months, and she wanted nothing more than for her mother to be there to see her perform the dance of passage before the gods.

  As the evening ended King Caelen thanked everyone for coming and politely ended the evening. He was worried about the strain on Eirin. Caelen found Farrah asleep in the corner of the dining hall leaning up against his grandfather’s suit of armor. He picked her up gently, motioned to Eirin, and they walked together for the first time in many years as a family.

  They placed Farrah into her bed. Caelen pulled a blanket over her and Eirin kissed her on the forehead. She woke up for a moment, disoriented, but smiling. It had been so long since she had seen them together like that. She closed her eyes again and fell back to sleep. Caelen and Eirin walked to their chambers talking about the day. Eirin slipped her hand into his as they walked and nuzzled herself close to him, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. When they got to their chambers, she kissed him. He pulled her close to him and kissed her back.

  She began to undress him slowly. He followed suit, kissing her body as he removed each piece of her clothing. He ran his hands up her bare skin. She was warm. She kissed him and began walking him backwards toward the bed. She pushed him on to it and climbed on top of him placing him inside her. She leaned forward and kissed him, as she began to move her body up and down on him. He placed his hand on the top of her butt as she moved faster. She coughed, but, kept going. Caelen moved his hand up her back. She coughed again. Harder. Caelen could feel her skin begin to cool and turn clammy. He picked her up, pulled himself out of her and laid her onto the bed. She continued to cough, this time blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. He propped her head up on a pillow, shouting for the Emerald Sister.

  He ran his hand through her hair. Her brow was wet with sweat. She reached up, pulling him close to her. “Today was a good day,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”

  Her hand fell back to the bed. Caelen kissed her lips. They were cold. He could taste salt in his mouth. He wiped his eyes and covered her body as best he could before anyone could enter the room. His movements were slow, and the world seemed wet and dull to him.

  Caelen began to decline rapidly after the death of his wife. While Farrah found solace in the beauty of their last day together, Caelen was left with rage and resentment for the gods who would give him hope and then cold-heartedly rip it away. As the weeks turned to months, Caelen lost himself in wine and ale. He took less and less interest in the affairs of state. When he did look up from his flagon, he dealt out heavy-handed responses to his subjects. In a dispute between two neighboring farmers over the use of overlapping land to grow flax, he seized the land for the crown, ordering each to pay a tribute of half their crop’s yield to the crown in order to support the growth of the royal army. He ordered the Emerald Sist
er Aislyn murdered for crimes against the crown. More and more his focus fell on Farrah. One night as the rain fell and lightning streaked across the evening sky, Caelen called Farrah to his chambers. It had been six months since the death of his wife - her mother. Caelen had ordered wine and dinner to his chamber.

  They ate and reminisced about Eirin. As the conversations went on and Caelen emptied flagon after flagon, the similarities between Farrah and Eirin began to become increasingly more apparent to him. She had the same glimmering light behind her eyes as Eirin when they had first met - before she became sick. She had the same smile; the same curve at the nape of her neck. He placed his hand on top of hers. She looked at him curiously. He ran his hand up her arm. She was warm to the touch, just as Eirin had been that night, except, where Eirin’s skin had been smooth, Farrah’s was covered with goose bumps. She pulled her arm away, but he grabbed her and pulled her closer to him. He hugged her tightly and kissed her neck. She flailed trying to free herself. He was too strong for her to break free. He began to pull her dress off her shoulder. She shimmied to keep it on. He ripped it down revealing her right breast. She felt around for something to help her free herself. Her hand found the cold handle of the knife used for their dinner. She gripped it tightly; smashed her head into his nose and sliced his face from cheek bone to jaw bone.

  She ran out of the room holding her dress up to keep herself covered. She made her way around the castle to the lower levels. She knew that she needed to leave immediately. Things had been bad before, but there was no coming back from this. There would be too many questions about the slash across the King’s face for him to not make an example of her. She, who he was already resentful of and angry towards. Farrah had seen her father execute an Emerald Sister on trumped-up charges and gotten away with it. The Order of the Emerald Sister is protected from such acts without a full trial before the tribunal of their order. And, somehow, he had gotten away with it. Farrah knew that if he could do that, then she was most assuredly no longer safe.

  She found Aislyn’s room, the Emerald Sister sent to help cure her mother of her illness and who had failed. She had been sent to live in the lower levels of the castle after repeated failed attempts at curing her mother. These levels had far fewer occupants and travelers than the upper levels near the throne hall and the ground level entrance. She checked the door. It was unlocked. She entered quickly, and quietly closed the door behind her.

  She searched the room for provisions; a waterskin, boots, a cloak, anything that could help her exit the castle unseen and get her safely on the road to anywhere but here. She searched drawers, under the bed, and finally, the armoire. There, on a hook on the back wall of the armoire, hung Aislyn’s robes. They were dark green, like the color of ash tree leaves at dusk. The robe was trimmed with a gold, the color of daffodils. Aislyn was about Farrah’s size, save a few inches shorter and a few wider, but in a robe that would make very little difference. To be caught impersonating an Emerald Sister was a crime punishable by conscription or death. But, to stay likely left her with only one of those options. She put it on. It fit as she thought it would. The robe fell a few inches higher than the top of her foot, settling near the top of her ankle, but that would serve her well if she needed to travel through the woods, or run.

  She found a pair of leather traveling boots that went up to the top of her calf. They were a little bit larger than her size, but not much. They laced up, so she could keep them tight and secure around her ankle for the long trek to elsewhere. She found the belt traditionally worn at the hips. She drew it around herself to complete the outfit. She stuck out her arms. The silver bracelet her mother had given her stood out in stark contrast to the gold and green of the robe. She rubbed it. Her eyes became wet and she fell to the floor sobbing. She allowed herself a moment to feel the weight of the emotions running through her. She missed her mother terribly. She hated her father for who he had become, but somewhere deep down she still loved him, and this made her angry. She remembered her mother’s words, “the green is to remind you of the strength and responsibility of being a woman, and the red is the fire that burns in us.” Farrah felt the heat of her anger burning within her. She took a deep breath and collected herself, noticing a pack tucked on the floor near the back corner of the armoire. She grabbed it; opening it to see a rather thick leather-bound book. She pulled it out of the pack. It was old and weathered brown leather, with a long thin leather strap wrapping around its center. On the cover, burned into the leather was a Brigid’s cross, or what looked like one large square made up of many squares within it. Each corner of the square were multiple lines shooting forth, making four extended arms from each corner of the layered squares. This was the symbol of the Emerald Sisters. She slung the pack and the book onto her back and left the room.

  On her way out of the castle she stopped by the kitchen which was nearly empty at this time of the evening. She found some bread and a few pieces of dried meat. She couldn’t tell what kind, but it would do for now. On the wall near the exit hung a bow, a quiver and some arrows. Sometimes the head of the kitchen would send some of the sons of the women working to hunt for small game. It served to keep those boys out of the kitchen for a few hours and kept them well stocked with rabbit, squirrel, and sometimes the occasional turkey.

  “I’m sorry ladies,” she thought to herself, “tomorrow you’ll need to find another way to keep those boys occupied.” She took the bow, slung it and the quiver across her shoulder and exited the castle under the cover of darkness. She heard bells chiming from the ramparts as she reached the tree line. Her father must have finally emerged from his chambers or someone found him. She travelled deep into the woods, keeping the road to her right as best she could. She could plan a route to somewhere in the morning, but for now she needed to get as far away from the castle as she could without getting herself lost in the woods.

  As days turned into weeks Farrah continued journeying the land in search of someplace to go. She had headed north, but that was her only plan. She hunted small game for food, made camp by nightfall, and tried to stay away from the royal patrols. In the evening, Farrah would occasionally sneak into towns to steal whatever provisions she needed that the forest could not provide for her. It was surprisingly easy to do while wearing the robes of an Emerald Sister. They were dark and blended into the darkness quite well, and when someone did notice her they tended to ignore her unless they needed help, and so far, no one had. During these jaunts into towns she had begun to hear murmuring of two very different stories about her last night in the castle.

  One story, the official one from the castle, was that Farrah had been convinced to work with Aislyn to poison the Queen for the King of Larutte, and upon completion of that task she turned her sights on the king but failed in her attempt. The other story coming from the serving staff was that the King had finally lost his mind and tried to attack Farrah. The explanations of the attack were varied; some said he wanted her dead because she reminded him of Eirin; others said he had tried to have his way with her for the same reason; another said that he had been hearing and talking to voices in the late hours of the night and they told him to murder his daughter.

  Farrah was surprised that some people had figured out what had happened rather easily, but that still did not change the official story from the castle, and that if she was caught, she’d likely be executed as a traitor to the crown for the failed attempt of regicide.

  As Farrah moved farther north towards the kingdom of Larutte, the local chatter shifted from solely talk of King Caelen’s traitorous daughter to discussions of dragon attacks in the Laruttean kingdom. Farrah was beginning to have trouble acquiring food as she travelled farther north. Wolves and other carnivorous beasts were starting to become more prevalent and she was not equipped or skilled enough to take down such predatory pack animals. Eventually, Farrah reached one of the last border towns before completely leaving the lands ruled by her father, Turingvale. It was a busy trading town. One of the-furth
est from the castle, but it still had Hylaen soldiers on patrol. It was dusk by the time she arrived, but Turingvale seemed different somehow. Farrah made her way to the less occupied edges of the town, as she had done throughout her journey north. She had found that often the edges closest to the woods or farthest away from the town centers were often less populated and easiest to slip into the town unnoticed, while also giving her a tiny window of opportunity to either steal from a home whose occupants were elsewhere, or to find places to eavesdrop on local gossip and gather information.

  As she approached those lesser travelled areas of the town she noticed that they had been blockaded. There was no way in without creating a scene and drawing attention to herself. She went back to the woods to assess the situation. Farrah noticed two long lines of people at the north and south entrances of the town. It was hard to clearly see them in the fading light of early evening, but she could determine that most of the people were not in good shape. They looked hungry and dirty. Some seemed to be carrying all they owned on their backs, or if they were one of the lucky ones, on the back of their horse. Farrah surmised that these must be refugees from Laurettean villages who were victims of the dragon she had been hearing about on her way up north. Trying to get into this town was risky, she thought to herself. But, so was attempting to travel farther north without food and other provisions to get her to the next town, which she knew was likely days away.

  CHAPTER 5

  His heart began to race. But, he had a plan. He was resolved to save his people. Go! Ash darted towards his helmet. He overran it but grabbed it in passing. He used the momentum to spin and launch the helmet behind the dragon as he ran toward her. It hit home on the granite wall behind her echoing loudly. She opened her wings to turn towards the sound. Ash ducked under her left wing, leapt into the air, and snatched his sword from her chest. She reared up, squaring off with him with a thunderous roar.