A Million Dreams, Part the First (Chapters 1-20)

Note: I began this story as a Wings of Fire fanfiction. Please excuse any link to the WOF world.

The Kingdoms of Perisidia

The Aval Kingdom

• Set in cold, freezing snow-forests and tundras, but on the edges, fringing towards other kingdoms, is cold, harsh, barren mountains

• Ruler: Queen Blizzard

• Names: Usually named after cold, snow, or snow animal-related themes

• Colors: White and pale, pale blue

• Usual Traits: Usually have dark hair and very pale skin, exclusively possess freckles, although not everyone has them. Avalans are the only kingdom that does not mark its people

The Haremysse Kingdom

• Set in the deep forests, usually dark scrub-oaks, between Aval and Eldoris

• Ruler: King Crow

• Names: Usually named after traits, or dark or night-related themes

• Colors: Dark green and black

• Usual Traits: Usually have blonde hair, Haremyssen are inscribed with a white circle on the neck when born

The Eldoris Kingdom

• Begins at the right of the Perisidian continent, where the beaches begin, and all the chains of scattered islands along the coast belong to the kingdom as well

• Ruler: Queen Aquamarine

• Names: Usually named after waters, blue or green colors, and sea animal-related themes

• Colors: Dark blue and mint green

• Usual traits: Hair is a riot of colors and genes more diverse than Aval or Haremysse, but always have sea-colored tinges and streaks that are dyed when born

Prologue (Chapter 0.5)

The night was deep and dark, and threatened to swallow up everyone out.

Indeed, no one was out.

Except for a certain child.

They were running through the barren snowland–it was almost a tundra, but rocks were peeking out here and there, so it was obviously not that cold yet. They were running with a small sack on their arm. It had been through some rough times, evidently, as it had many small tears, all mended with scotch tape.

All the children were to be kept strictly in bed. Why were they out? How, indeed?

Then, all of a sudden, they stopped running in the middle of that frozen wasteland, and looked up at the moon.

The moon was full, bright, and raw. Clear as porcelain china, and milky-white. The child just stood there, watching it, watching as if their entire life depended on it.

A low hoot came from a snow owl off into the distant, subtle and sinister.

Who? Who?

Who?

Who was this child? Who were they waiting for? Now, the moon was directly in the center of the vast black night dome.

Expectantly, the child sat down on the snow desert, and waited.

Like their life depended on it.

Chapter 1

The Aval Kingdom was terribly barren apart from the palaces, but for Aurora and her brother Emperor, and their mother, Chalcedony, it was even worse. A broken sixth-ranked family with only a struggling mother in the town of Hamlet that Worships the Whales that Sing at Dawn working millions of awkward odd jobs to maintain enough for a few frozen vegetables and sometimes meat for her two children once a day. The whole family was starving, and Aurora couldn’t think of anything to do that would make Chalcedony and Emperor’s lives better.

The whole family was thin, but Chalcedony was thinnest of all, because she starved so that her children could eat better. But she was now sick from lack of nutrition, though she wouldn’t improve her diet. Aurora and Emperor had to care for her, when she wasn’t working. They would’ve moved out, but by the time they decided to, Chalcedony was too weak.

Thirteen terrible years passed, and life got no better. Aurora worried all day because Chalcedony was in constant disability and Aurora was so hungry she couldn’t pay attention to her studies. Emperor was one year older than her, and he was even weaker.

One of Chalcedony’s main odd jobs was fishing (even though Aurora and Emperor begged and begged her not to go in her state), so every day, Aurora followed Chalcedony and Emperor to the dock to do her homework while watching her mother fish.

Equilateral?? Square?? The words floated around her brain, unable to connect, like a completely foreign language.

Splash!

She looked up, and screamed. Chalcedony had reached for a piece of Arctic Cod, but her hand had gotten tangled up in the fishnet, and it had snared her, dragging her under into the frozen water.

“No!” roared Emperor, launching himself after her into the frigid seas, but it was no use. The heavy stone pellet used to hold the fish weighed Chalcedony down, sinking faster and faster into more frigid depths, until even Aurora knew that Emperor could no longer follow. She crouched shell-shocked on the pier, waiting…but he didn’t resurface.

She swung her head anxiously back and forth–what should she do? She made up her mind, and dove.

The water was thickly calming and silent in a terrifying way, muffling her pounding heart. It was an illusion, she knew–the temperatures of the cool water sliding in eddies across her skin didn’t matter. She had grown up by the pier docks, but she wasn’t still as good a swimmer as an Eldorisian, and even for them…it was…dangerous.

The pale outline of Emperor’s big shape swam slowly through the dark haze. She was starting to feel drowsier.

No. She was running out of air.

Determinately, she spread her arms, and quickly jerked them in, pushing her back hands out, swimming faster and faster to Emperor’s body. He was unconscious, and sinking fast. She needed to hurry–the lower the altitudes here, the stronger the sort of magnetism that dragged you to the bottom.

With one final all-mighty push of seemingly nothing but water, she reached him, and grabbed one of his muscled forearms in her lithe ones. As she stared down into the depths, Aurora felt her eyelids start to close, and jerked them open with a start. Fighting to stay conscious, she decided. Her original plan was to get Chalcedony as well, but now she knew she would die if she tried to go deeper.

She turned her head up to the watery sun. Is this the last sun I will see? Will I make it back to the surface? She beat her arms harder, determined, just as she nearly slowed entirely, she burst onto the surface. The cool water slid like marbles against Aurora’s freezing polar bear furs, and she just lay there on her back, floating, staring at the now clear sun, rapidly losing consciousness.

The last sun, the last sun…

No, you can’t go into shock. You won’t go into shock.

Then she remembered Emperor, and hauled him up as well. He was still unconscious. Desperately, she struck out for the harbor, but it was pretty far away. She drifted around, but couldn’t end up generating enough strength to swim another foot. She carefully breathed on his face, and he jerked awake with a grunt, then coughed, and looked around.

“Mother…mother, mo…ther…” he groaned.

“You’re safe,” she promised. He looked blurrily around. “Emperor? Emperor! Look at me! You fainted under the water and I got you…but Mother’s at the bottom.”

“No!” He thrashed wildly.

“Stop!” she shouted. “You would’ve died too! We’ll get help I promise, but we need to get to shore first.” She tried to steady her sniffles, but her voice cracked.

“Help…you…” he muttered, and started trying to swim. He was clumsy and uncoordinated, but he moved them forward nonetheless, so she started helping him too.

Her knees betrayed her. She couldn’t go anymore. “Emperor…” she moaned.

“No…we’re getting to shore, I’m going to help you. Save your strength.”

“Oi!” a voice shouted.

She looked up, and even that motion burned her neck. A teenage boy around her age she didn’t know was gawking at them. His face was sprayed with dark freckles. He had smooth wavy golden hair and green eyes. He wore a first-rank necklace. “What in the blazes are you doing?”

Aurora didn’t have the strength to answer, so Emperor did. “Our mother, Chalcedony, is at the bottom! Please, help her, or she’ll drown really soon!”

“I’m Gwynion,” said the boy. His voice was smooth and quiet. “Should…should I bring Her Majesty?”

“No, there’s no time! Please, just try to save Chalcedony!” begged Emperor.

“...I will, though I don’t think I’ll survive.” And with that, he took a deep billowing breath, and dove into the dark waters. Aurora was mildly surprised. Why would this Gwynion risk his life like that, for a poor sixth-rank, no less? He must’ve seen her sixth-circle necklace, right? She was intrigued. Was he just a courageous, daring, kind person?

A minute passed…two. Did I just possibly kill him? she worried. What if Gwynion doesn’t come back? He’s a first-rank person…Queen Blizzard would be furious!

Two minutes and forty-two seconds, forty-three seconds, forty-four seconds, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven…

Three minutes and eleven seconds, twelve seconds, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…

Gwynion burst out of the sea, coughed up water, gasping furiously for air, and promptly collapsed against her. Emperor lunged for his arm and dragged Chalcedony’s body into the air.

She was barely alive. Her green eyes were no longer bright and lively, instead, they were glazed over and watery and slightly bloodshot. Worst of all…her skin underneath to the left of her sternum had been gashed, and it was bleeding badly. She must’ve scraped on a sharp piece of rock…would she survive?

Emperor seized her. “We’ve got to get her back.”

Happiness and worry went to war inside Aurora’s mind.

In the end, the faithful optimistic yet slightly impatient troops of Happiness won the furious mind battle.

“Let’s get her ashore now,” she said firmly, yet voice ragged. Gwynion gurgled once, twice, then slowly opened his eyes, blinking many times.

“Did I do it?” he muttered blurrily.

“Yes you did. But you could’ve died in the process–why did you do that?!” she scolded. She didn’t know what made her do it. Her first instinct was not to scold anyone mid-fourth-rank up. But Gwynion…she felt safe, warm, even cozy around him. Her heart felt heated, burning away her cold exterior…almost as if they had known each other from the day they were born. He gave them a weak toothy grin.

“Help…Emperor…” he said groggily.

“Got it,” she said, and struck out for shore with Emperor now dragging Gwynion’s body as he fell unconscious again. Her muscles burned as salt water wriggled beneath her polar bear furs, digging into her skin. One…last…foot…

I can’t make another foot…

Do it for Gwynion; he can’t die…another person can’t die…

But I’m dying…

Mother…

She slogged forward through the icy water, hard as diamonds, through a haze of rain and pain (it had started to gently hail, but it felt as if rocks of obsidian were pounding her back ruthlessly). Three more inches…she thought desperately. Three more inches, and then I can collapse and die…Mother…oh, Mother…

Yesssss! Her hands touched the harbor’s creaky wood. She fought to keep her eyes open. You can keep them open for three seconds longer…do it for Mother, all you need is to pull yourself up and then you can crawl into a gutter and cry for a hospital…

She battled on.

But she lost.

Chapter 2

When Aurora woke, she was in a small compact room checkered black and white, lying in a super comfy bed with white linen sheets the color of her furs: a patient room in the hospital. She had been here before, a month ago. And Mother was still in debt for that annual check-up

Emperor sat in front of her, twitching somewhat impatiently. His arms were wobbly, and his hands were trying to scrape gouges in his palm. His eyes were hollow and colorless yet full of emotion.

“Emperor!” she said. “...How long have I been out?”

“Half a day,” he said slightly bitterly. “It’s midnight. I’ve been waiting for three hours.”

“Gee, thanks!” she said brightly. “I had no idea you were going to wait this long.” She reached over to the bed stand, for a lime-sweet acidic drink. “Drinkie drinkie!”

He looked at her sharply, swiftly, almost concerned. “Aurora…are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“Silly billy! Why would I do that? Your turn!” She shoved the drink at him, and when he wouldn’t take it, she threw it at him, and it caught him in the stomach, shattering into a million pieces, and splattering him in drink. Her euphoria plummeted to the ground, shattering into a million pieces just as the glass had.

“Emperor…what happened?” she asked, eyes aglow with horror as the wave of the past crashed down on her.

“Aurora,” he said hollowly, not meeting her eyes. He spoke to the floor, twitching his hands and fidgeting around. “Mother is dead.”

Aurora’s world exploded with shock and disbelief. She fell back onto her sheets, and several cold tears slid down her cheek. Her life was falling and breaking and splattering everywhere, and she couldn’t grasp the fragments of her joys and ecstasies in her fingers fast enough. One word stood clearly in her head.

“No!” she shouted, rearing up again. She leapt at Emperor and pinned him down. “No!” she whispered, now in a weak, hoarse moan. “No, Emperor, tell me it isn’t true.”

Up close, the face line markings that gave him his name were creased (from skin issues at birth), and his eyes were old. Crazy old…so old it was creepy for someone this young. “It’s true, I promise.”

Those words broke her life to pieces until there wasn’t one full shred of happiness left.

“Is Gwynion here?” she asked. Emperor nodded. He didn’t look surprised that Aurora asked. “Can…can I see him?” Emperor looked hurt, but he subtly nodded, and swept out of the room, leaving a trail of frost behind him.

A few seconds later, Gwynion burst into the room and leapt onto the sheets, hugging her.

“Whoa whoa, Gwynion!!” she exclaimed. “Please get off me! I’ve got serious personal-space-feeling issues!”

He ignored her. He leaned back, sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked consumed with rage. “No no no!” he chided. “I am stuuuuupid! I should’ve stopped him!”

“...Who?” she asked nervously. “Like…stop what?”

Gwynion sat up straight and stared intensely, burningly, a bit too warm now, at Aurora. “Emperor,” he hissed dramatically. “And that glowing sleepwalker I saw him holding the night before when he passed me during midnight hunting. I knew it was important. I knew he was planning something.”

Chapter 3–Gwynion: 13 years ago…

His earliest memories were marred by a deep fog.

What was that fog? He did not know. But he woke up with one clear thought: I am powerful.

I will change the world.

“What,” said a deep voice, “Is that misshapen lump?”

“He is not,” replied another voice, “A misshapen lump. He is a hybrid with a wonderful feature and the fate of the stars in his hands.”

“That is ridiculous,” shot back the other one. “How is any hybrid going to succeed in a cruel world that has no place for hybrids?”

“No,” said the second one firmly. “Think of Turmoil. Aval-Eldoris hybrid. And he has succeeded. He is living a good life, the leader of the local police in Quarsefce. There is a place for hybrids in this world, and especially one as powerful as-”

“In Quarsef?” snorted the first one. “No no no. My CHILD is not going to live a life in Possibility, that ramshackle rabble rouser town.”

“Well then.” The second one’s voice was exasperated. “He’s coming with me to the Aval Kingdom.”

“NO!” the first one roared.

He sensed a flash of blood, of anger, and protectiveness. He squirmed, and willed his eyes to open.

The outside was nothing compared to the world inside, behind his eyes. He was lying in a soft pile of blankets, with another baby. He was in a white-washed room, the walls slick and sculpted.

Two people were standing before him. The first one, the first voice, was a man with a green tinge to his dark hair, with storm gray eyes. He glowered down at the little baby, who pressed back, and knew instinctively that this was Father. The second voice was from a woman with freckles spilling across her face, pale blonde hair, and her eyes the color of warm copper, shining with love. This was Mother.

“This one is first born,” observed Mother. “And so I will give him the name.” After a pause, she said, almost uncertainly, “...Gwynion?”

“WHAT!?” roared Father. “No!”

“Calm down,” said Mother. “I will love him where you don’t even seem to.”

“You just say that because he looks like you,” growled Father.

“Who knows,” replied Mother, with a hint of consternation. “Maybe the next one will look like you. And the next one can go with you, back to the Eldoris Kingdom.”

A low grunt. But Gwynion saw the resoluteness in Mother’s face.

He watched, as the other baby–his sister–squirmed, and squirmed…and opened her eyes.

On closer inspection she looked almost exactly like Father, but she had warm copper eyes like Mother’s.

“This will be Cascade,” said Father abruptly, without any hesitation. “And here’s the important thing: she is mine, and she looks just like me.”

“You just want a child that looks like you,” retorted Mother.

“A child with Avalans is already a major disgrace,” hissed Father. “And especially one as low-born as you, Opaline.”

A hiss, a snarl. “Well then!” shouted Mother. “I don’t need you! I don’t even know what I saw in you! You’re an empty shell of coldness that loves hurting other people!”

Father yelled at her, face twisted with fury, but stopped, glaring, at the last second. Mother flinched, but stood her ground defiantly. “Then we have nothing to say to each other anymore!” he shouted. He grabbed Cascade, and wooshed out of the room, out of Gwynion’s life.

Mother snorted, but Gwyn could see her wincing, and tears filling her eyes. “Come on, Gwynion,” she said calmingly. “Let’s get to the Aval Kingdom. I think you will love it there.”

“Well well well,” said Queen Blizzard in her cold, slithery voice, pacing up and down the rank of Avalans. Gwynion was starkly aware of being the only one, the only one who wasn’t ‘pure.’ “What a promising batch of Avalans that may have magic.”

All the other Avalans smirked at him, and his cheeks burned. He couldn’t stand all this prosecution, just for a parent that he knew for less than half an hour. “Take the block of ice before you in your hands, and command it to melt.”

He took it. It was chilling between his fingers, slippery, just like his life, that could just slip away at any second; but he didn’t want to hold on.

“Melt,” he whispered.

Nothing happened.

He knew he shouldn’t have expected anything. He just…wanted it so bad. The respect he could get for it…he knew he deserved it.

Queen Blizzard paced up and down, glaring at each of them, and then at their ice block. None of them melted, not even from the sheer force in her intense stare. She sat down heavily.

“Well,” she hissed, with displeasure. “I’m sorry to say it looks like there are going to be no saemeni this year, are there? Put away your ice blocks, children. Get back to school. You have four more hours.”

Everyone groaned, dropped their ice blocks, and trudged through the mucky sleet on the ice.

Gwynion was last (no surprise!). He was going to drop his ice block…but suddenly…suddenly…

The ice block dissolved in his hands, just before he was going to drop it.

Chapter 4

Aurora pressed in on herself against the raging wind in the most sheltered area of the recess yard. She watched forlornly as a group of Avalan kids kicked about a metal soccer ball. It clattered against their feet as they shot it into the goal, and everyone cheered. She watched three Avalan kids performing hula-hoop tricks. They were part of the ‘Hula-Hoop Club’ in the school, and they were practicing for a scheduled trick show in two moons. She watched as a mass of children huddled together, shielding each other from the fierce wind, speaking loudly, and occasionally waving papers and pens around. They were part of the ‘Newspaper Club’ that met every Tuesday and Thursday. They were probably discussing a new issue that could be hot enough to melt out all the other headlines. She watched four kids huddled in another corner, also shielding each other from the wind, doling out playing cards on a low table-stand.

She longed to be with them, any of them. But no one ever invited her for anything. She didn’t understand why. For example, the Newspaper Club was not compulsory, and it was a ‘free-for-all-to-join’ thing. But when she tried to sign up, everyone just ignored her. Recess was torture for her.

Then, one of the card-players turned around and waved at her. It was Gwynion. “Hey!” he called. “Want to join us?”

She hesitantly made her way over. He was with three of the goofiest children known in the town school. There was Selkie, who was in some ways a lot like him. She had a hint of freckles dusting her nose, and dark curls. There was Smoke, twins with Selkie, who had dark poofy hair too. And then there was Xanadu. He seemed to have a serious obsession with green, because his spiky hair was dyed green, his eyes were green, he wore green clothes, a green bracelet and necklace, green shoes, and a green forehead band.

“Guys, this is my friend, Aurora,” said Gwynion. They looked at her in turn, probably confused by whatever extremely giddy expression she had on. “Can she join us in playing cards?”

Selkie responded immediately. “Of course,” she said. She had a mellow, placid voice. “Welcome, Aurora.”

“Any friend of Gwynion is a friend of mine,” added Smoke, in a slightly rough and throaty voice.

“Hey, Aurora,” said Xanadu. He had an off-hand yet sharp voice. “I heard your mother, Chalcedony, I think, just drowned. I’m sorry.” Gwynion, Selkie, and Smoke all glared venomously at him. “What?” he protested. “I’m offering my condolences!”

Smoke sighed. “I’m sorry, Aurora,” he said. “Xanadu…has some issues with controlling his tongue. He speaks his thoughts, without stopping to process whether they actually help others or not.”

“Hey–I’m right here, you know!” said Xanadu indignantly.

“It’s alright,” she reassured him. “I know he didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Do you know how to play Poker?” asked Gwynion. Aurora didn’t, so he showed her how.

He explained what the different cards were, their worth, how to switch cards, how the game worked, how to multiply cards, the objective, and how to win.

“Now, let me show you a master game in progress,” he said.

“More like an amateur player, for Gwynion,” snorted Selkie, playfully thumping his shoulder.

He didn’t even seem to bite back a retort. Aurora envied their closeness. They were all so kind towards each other, and welcoming (though they did considerably tease each other), and they all seemed to want Gwynion to like them. She wished she had that effect on people.

She inspected the game carefully. She watched them playing. She put her faith into Gwynion, but to her surprise, Xanadu easily won.

“Want to play?” offered Xanadu. She shrugged.

They dealt her in, and on her first game, she beat them all.

Chapter 5

Walking home from school with Emperor, Aurora’s heart thrummed contentedly. Everyone in the card-playing group had been nice to her.

“Emperor,” she said. “How was your day?”

“Oh,” he said forlornly. “Oh…it was good.”

She knew him well.

He’s hiding something…

But what?

A cold claw sliced down her ridges. Is Gwynion right? If so, what is he doing with a sleepwalker? How did he even get it?

No, no no. Even if he did get it…he would never do anything with it.

Would he?

“Wait, Emperor,” she said, struck by a thought. “What…are we going to do…without…Mother?”

Mother. The word stung on her tongue, burning like poison.

And home; it was a reminder of the face she’d never see. The door she’d never re-open.

A pause. “Emperor. We…can’t buy anything. We can’t pay rent. We can’t pay off Mother’s debt. What…are we going to do?”

“Oh…” murmured Emperor, his facial lines crinkling. She caught a glimpse of…tears? “I…I don’t know. I’m still too young to be considered an adult, so…we need to go to the…orphanage. It’s…the only way.”

“How are you acting so…natural?” she cried abruptly. “Mom is dead! We have to go to an orphanage! We–”

“Aurora,” interrupted Emperor. “You don’t understand. You don’t understand how much it stabs me inside. But I have to stay calm…so I can take care of you.”

“...Oh,” she managed to choke out. But other than that, she was at a complete loss for words. “...It’s…ok. I never…thought of it that way.”

“More the reason. Let’s go,” said Emperor. “Let’s…go to the orphanage.”

The orphanage was kind of ramshackle, with white-washed dingy walls. Light glinted out of the only window on the first floor.

Inside, there was another neat white-and-black-checkered floor, and a desk. A woman with feathery gray hair sat, poised, in the chair. She had a permanent squint from the years of judgemental looks she had shot her orphans.

“Hello,” she smarmed. “How may I help you two today?”

“Uh,” said Emperor. “Our-our mother…she d-died and…can we live here?”

Awkward.

“Oh!” said the elegant woman. “Oh, I am so sorry.” It was so sugar-coated that it was obviously not real. “My name is Blanche, head caretaker.” She wrung her palms. “We…don’t have a lot of space. But…we can fit you in. What are your names?”

“Emperor and Aurora,” Emperor said, openly.

“Ah, well…” she wrung her hands. “We shall…how old are you?” she asked Emperor.

“Sixteen,” he replied.

“Oh!” she said again. “Two years till you move to the adult rank. Have an ID?”

Aurora’s face burned. “N-no,” she said.

IDs were for rich people.

“Well, then,” she mused. “We’ll just…deal with paperwork after Emperor here becomes a full-off adult. Come come.”

She led them up two creaky stairwells and past a hall where the wood floorboards creaked under their claws and the walls hurt their eyes from brightness. Then, she turned a sharp left. “Here you go,” she purred, bowing them in. “Dinner will be at eight o’clock sharp. Try not to be late. You don’t know where it is…so I will send someone up to bring you.” She bowed them in, and swept away.

Aurora looked around. Two beds lay side-by-side, a dingy window was covered, and a lamp that glowed only faintly.

“New home sweet home, I guess,” she muttered mutinously.

Chapter 6

Aurora woke from a comatose sleep to an arm smashing her head.

She groggily opened her eyes. In front of her, she was nearly completely covered by Emperor’s quivering shadow as he waved his body furiously.

“Nonono!” he said loudly. “Ice cream is not breakfast! We need something sensible! Healthy, even!”

Blanche was looking scandalized and huffy as she tried to make it up with him. “Very well, sir,” she said, almost stuttering. Aurora had never thought anyone could make their eyes squint judgmentally so much without closing them. “I realize your concern, and will be sure to register it and note it down to the Perisidian Orphanage Organization, aka POO. But sir, please take it into mind that we are OUT OF STOCK of such foods at the time; you orphans have greatly depleted the supply.” She squinted even harder without closing her eyes in the ultimate judgemental look. “We just have ice cream, some new nonsense they call ‘Italian ice,’ frozen leftover pasta, which is a dinner food, and some spoiled over-time chicken. I am sure you would rather have ice cream or the nefarious ‘Italian ice’ rather than-”

“Please.” Emperor’s voice was weary and exasperated. “We’d rather have a frozen leftover dinner food than an unhealthy and frankly, extremely unappetizing morning appetizer that actually doesn’t appetize but is the only appetizer so should be considered breakfast, not an appetizer, but still is called an appetizer that is also is not appetizing at all.”

Blanche raised an eyebrow so high it was practically above her. “Well, suit yourselves,” she said icily. “I can prepare a bit of a portion of the frozen leftover pasta I can spare from the dinner; but you’re going to be late for school, so I’m afraid you’ll have to eat while you’re walking.” She shooed them out of bed. “Come on, come on, ten-hut! Get ready and go!” She bustled out, leaving a hint of disapproval in the air.

Walking to school, it was unpleasantly warm for the frigid tip of the continent. It was the summer solstice, the longest and hottest day of the year (also, summer was a month away).

Blanche was right. Even eating on the way, they were a tad late.

Principal Opal was not amused.

“NEVER IN MY LIFE!” she raged. “LATE! EMPEROR AND AURORA! I AM FURIOUS WITH YOU, MY FURY IS AS DEEP AND RAGING AS THE STORMY SEAS AT THE TIP OF THE SKY, THEY WILL CHURN FOREVER WITH YOUR STUPIDITY AND IMBECILE-NESS AND–”

“Principal Opal,” said Emperor simply and respectfully. “First of all, that’s enough…we understand. And secondly, stupidity and imbecile-ness are exactly the same thing. And thirdly, we’re only a minute late.”

“Totally wrong!” shouted Principal Opal, glaring at the clock. “For your information, Mr. Smarty-Pants, it is one minute and three seconds late!”

“Same difference,” Aurora muttered quietly.

Principal Opal glowered down her snout at her.

“Seems hardly right in the Avalan child rules to question your elders, even hardly so when you’re in a broken sixth-rank family, and I am in the first-rank. I could flick you two all the way into the seventh-rank if I felt like petitioning with Queen Blizzard,” warned Principal Opal behind a clenched jaw. “You know how rightly particular she is with misbehaving children. The rules are not strict, but on the contrary, beautifully conducted for wonderful purposes. Hurry to class now, but I will be sure to speak with Mrs. Annapurna.” She shushed them forcefully, spittle flying out of her mouth, and hustled them into class.

Mrs. Annapurna was old, stern, frosty, and cold, both on the inside and the outside. She squinted through her tiny spectacles at them. “You’re late,” she grouched. “Take your place.”

They sat in the furthest-back seats in the room.

“Now,” Mrs. Annapurna said. “Take your textbook out of your desk, the one titled, Where the Leopard-Seals Sing, and flip to page one thirty-two.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. The book was a coming-of-age murder-mystery that, in her opinion at least, had nothing to do with leopard-seals.

“Today, class,” she said. “We are going to be thinking about the central message in line 5,397. Find that line: ‘I dunno. She’s wearin’ her gator shoes.’ What is the central message?” Mrs. Annapurna glanced around the room like a shark looking for wounded fish. Only one student raised his hand. “Yes, Emperor?”

“I think,” said Emperor slowly, “That the gator shoes have a prominent symbolization later in the story–”

“WRONG!” bellowed Mrs. Annapurna, slamming the textbook onto the ground, and checking her answer list. Aurora sneaked a peak and saw that it said, ‘The gator shoes show the setting Khione is in. It has an important role later–or something similar to that.’ “ABSOLUTELY WRONG, FOOLISH LITTLE BOY! THE MEANING IS THAT THE GATOR SHOES SHOW THE SETTING KHIONE IS IN! IT HAS AN IMPORTANT ROLE LATER!”

“...That’s…the same thing as what I said–you just elongated it,” muttered Emperor.

“WRONG AGAIN!” bellowed Mrs. Annapurna, erupting like an avalanche. “DID I USE THE SAME WORDS AS YOU, EXCEPT FOR ‘GATOR SHOES’?! NO! I WILL NOT DEAL WITH THIS NONSENSE NO MORE! PUT YOUR STUPID TEXTBOOKS AWAY, AND BRING OUT ‘BLUEBERRIES OF WRATH’ BEFORE I SLAP THOSE SMIRKS OF YO’ FACES! WE WILL BE INTERPRETING THE SETTING TODAY! READ ALONG SILENTLY WITH ME! ‘THE MEN WENT INTO THE BARNS AND SHEDS’! WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” She turned to glare at him. “NOT YOU, MR. SMARTY-PANTS EMPEROR!”

Emperor raised a delicate eyebrow. “Okay, Mrs. Annapurna.”

“DETENTION!” roared Mrs. Annapurna. “DARING TO SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!”

Aurora couldn’t stand it anymore. She unclenched her jaw to speak, but her voice shriveled away and clogged inside her throat before she could bite it out. She finally managed to clear it in a soft, weak whisper. “Don’t be rude to my brother,” she managed to squeak quietly. “I…he was just…apologizing to you…” She trailed off lamely, biting her tongue. The metallic taste that flooded her mouth when she drove her teeth into her lip too hard seemed to poke her. All the children turned, and she could see some were shaking from silent laughter.

If looks could kill, she would drop dead in front of the class (and so would Emperor) from the scowl carved deep into Mrs. Annapurna’s frozen face.

“DETENTION!” shouted Mrs. Annapurna.. “AND THE DAY AFTER THAT! AND THEY DAY AFTER THAT! AND THE DAY AFTER THAT! AND THE DAY AFTER THAT! AND…AND…AND THE DAY AFTER THAT! AND…AND…AND…AND I’LL BE SURE TO SPEAK WITH QUEEN BLIZZARD! DECIDING YOU’RE A DISRESPECTFUL NOBODY WHO DESERVES TO BE SQUASHED BACK INTO YOUR STUPID PLACE IS EXACTLY MY JOB!” She raged towards her desk, and was so mad she picked up one of the kid’s packets off his desk and ripped it to shreds. Then, she took a deep calming breath. “Somebody clean that up now,” she growled loudly (that was pretty much as low as she had possibly been known to speak at school). It was not better than her yelling. The murderous intent was barely covered up. She rummaged through her desks, then glared burning daggers at Emperor. “You two imbeciles are lucky that I used my last detention slip this morning. I can’t believe I ran out of my three-hundred-pack at this vital moment…!” Then, the bell rang shrilly. There seemed to be an unearthly sigh resonating from the class, and they stampeded out of the room, leaving Mrs. Annapurna behind.

After lunch, Emperor bustled importantly away from the rest of the class with a few other seniors. He was voluntarily going to help the younger grades (not all the grades had recess at the same time), leaving Aurora very lonely.

Once again, she huddled like a nobody in the most sheltered corner, the pellets of sleet pelting across her face.

Then, she felt the persistent pecking of the rain vanish abruptly. She opened one eye slowly. It was Gwynion. He was holding his little umbrella above her.

“Hey,” he said pleasantly. “How are you doing, Aurora?”

“Badly,” she said quietly.

He sat down encouragingly next to her. “Tell me about it.”

Aurora felt a rush of…something. “Well,” she said. “Every day is bad for me. It’s all a charade…of trying to look fine. It’s just…all muddled up, a thick fog of emotions, but I can’t…I mean, there’s so much that I can’t tell them apart, and I’m even having some trouble defining them now. I don’t know how I’ll cope with Mother gone and we’re stuck in an orphanage…Gwynion, what should I do?”

“First of all, call me Gwyn,” he said. “Second…I know how that feels. When I was born…well, don’t tell anyone…but, I’m…an Avalan-Eldorisian hybrid.”

Aurora gasped. Gwyn! Her friend! The boy sitting right beside her–was…a hybrid!

Some of her feelings must’ve shown on her face, because Gwyn looked slightly hurt. She quickly changed her expression. “Really?”

He nodded somberly. “In fact, my dad’s Queen Aquamarine’s nephew.”

“Prince Flood?” she gasped. Gwyn was half royal! “But he’s…still in the Eldoris Kingdom! He has a wife! Princess Azure!”

Gwyn spat bitterly. “That was after he ditched Mum. Don’t you remember the time when the Eldoris Kingdom was all tripping over their tails, whimpering about how he got lost? That’s when he was with Mum. Also, I have a sister named Cascade. But Father took her away when he left–right after I opened my eyes–and I never saw her again.”

She sympathetically squeezed his hand, but stopped quickly. “I like listening to your life story,” she said quietly. “Can you tell me any more, if it’s not too much trouble…?”

He took a deep breath. “Then, one day, I went to have the saemen test. I don’t know why they still do it–even after the Haremyssen stole our last saemen. But…I turned out to be an saemen.”

Aurora gasped (for the third time). She dropped his fingers she had been holding. Now she understood the strange sort of quiet vibrations of power she had felt. She had been holding the hand of an saemen.

“How?” she breathed, breath taken.

“You know how the Eldorisian royal family is–they’re spoiled with saemeni. Queen Aquamarine is one herself. I knew that at some point…I just…had this feeling, this notion,” he said. “And after I was discovered…well, Queen Blizzard wasn’t sure how to react. The entire kingdom wasn’t, especially not Hamlet that Worships the Whales that Sing at Dawn. Anyway–the saemeni were always bred so carefully into the royal family…no one was really sure how it had happened. So…” He took a deep breath, as if pained. “Mom told everyone. She’s always been a straightforward person. And…now everyone hates me. But…at least Queen Blizzard accepted it as a miracle. Everyone accepted it as nothing short of a miracle–because what are the chances that a Eldoris saemen prince falls in love with a poor fifth-rank Avalan? And that…that her child would have saemen powers? And so Queen Blizzard made me her immediate advisor, so she would still be close to saemen magic and she moved me and my mother to the top of the second circle. There my mother stayed, but as I did more and more tasks for her majesty, she moved me till I was in the middle of the first circle dragonets. She, most likely, will find a way to breed me into the royal family, to take advantage of my royal Eldoris saemen bloodline. She has asked me for many, many magical favors over the years. Enchant this to make her strong, put a spell on that to make the army faster.” His face and voice was hollow.

She wanted to hug him. “Poor, poor Gwyn,” she murmured, squeezing his hand once more.

And this time, she did not let go.

Chapter 7

“The Haremyssen!”

“The Haremyssen have struck again!”

“The Haremyssen kidnapped Queen Blizzard’s granddaughter!”

“They stole Princess Gentoo!”

Pandemonium and panic rained down on the small seaside town of Hamlet that Worships the Whales that Sing at Dawn.

Emperor paced around the schoolyard, grinding his teeth. “Those…backstabbing, pathetic, LIARS!” he burst out suddenly, striking his foot aggravatedly against the slush beneath him. “AFTER STEALING OUR LAST SAEMEN, THEY DARED TO DO THIS…AGAIN…!”

“Emperor, please!” Aurora pleaded. “Calm down! You’re frightening even me!” He stopped and glared at her, then at the muttering of something quick and incomprehensible, he took a deep breath, and relaxed. “You’re right,” he said quietly and slowly, breathing out air. “I need to calm down, and I’m totally overreacting. Sure. It’s not…my family. And yet,” he added abruptly. “Mother raised me to believe that the royal family is everyone’s family. No matter how broken your family is, no matter how poor or fallen-apart.”

“Emperor,” she said gently. “They may be our ‘family,’ but our biological immediate family…should come first…right? Right? Right now, we are living in an orphanage…and we can’t live here forever. How will you find a job, and then me? No offense, but with Mrs. Annapurna and losing Mother and being poor…well…we aren’t getting good grades for our job applications. Who would hire us anyway?”

Emperor scrunched up his face. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a while, and slowly tipped over and collapsed on the floor like a tortoise avalanche. He covered his face with his hands. “I don’t KNOW,” he repeated miserably. “I don’t KNOW what I’ll DO…what WE’LL do…”

Slowly, Aurora laid an arm gently on his shoulder. “It’s fine,” she comforted. “Let’s live life as kids before age do us apart.”

The next day, school was canceled, because of the national kidnapping emergency, so they had nothing to do but stay in the orphanage.

Sheets of rain billowed down against the squeaky windows, gloomy as ever. Blanche wouldn’t let them go outside. They were stuck here.

Breakfast had been so gloomy as well. There was a weak string of talk babbled mutinously around the room, but it seemed all so fake.

Now, Emperor was busy studying (the teachers had the audacity to give them homework to cover the missed school day). But Aurora couldn’t sit still. She didn’t know what was bugging her. She just paced around, so numb that sometimes she clattered something over.

“Please, Aurora,” he begged, after she had knocked over his inkstand. “That blueberry ink with a touch of polar bear blood was my favorite combination! It even tasted good! Don’t ask me how I know what ink tastes like!”

She strained. “I just…I feel so unrested…and I feel like I forgot to do something…”

“You forgot to do your homework,” he responded reasonably.

She shook her head. “It’s…something more than that.”

“Maybe it’s that Gwynion? I saw that you’re very good friends with him, over the course of the last days. Maybe it feels weird to not see him today?” He shot her a slightly knowing look, and she blushed. “I heard he’s an animus.”

“He is,” she said quietly. “Queen Blizzard is…not treating him well.”

Emperor nodded, but the look on his face was like he understood much more than what she had just said.

All day, a coldness pressed deep inside her, as if something was troubling and dark, and needed to be put down.

She was grateful to finally be able to crawl into bed, in the end. She had a raging headache from staring out in the lightning-struck, rain-clad window.

As soon as her burning forehead touched her squashy mattress, she lost all sense, her eyes drooping into a deep, deep sleep.

Quite some time later, in the middle of the night, Aurora awoke feeling quite thirsty. She began to rise, but then she saw something odd.

Emperor had buried himself completely underneath his blanket, and…there seemed to be a faint, delicate glow rising from his bedsheets.

Making sure he was asleep, she quietly and gently lifted his blanket…and gasped (quietly) in shock.

Emperor was rolled into a tight bun, but clutched to his forehead…was clearly a glowing diamond-set sapphire star, intricately there tightly in his hands, mesmerizing.

It could be nothing else but a sleepwalker.

Chapter 8

Aurora woke up with cold beads of sweat dripping off her forehead, mind deep in an unfordable fog.

What…

Was that?

The picture had been captured, imprinted, into her mind, like a fingerprint covered in ink.

Emperor.

Her Emperor.

Why would he have a sleepwalker? He was obviously using it, as it was pressed against his forehead, but…who was he calling?

She had to figure it out.

Her Emperor, her sweet funny brother. Of course not! Unthinkable.

He would of course only use it for good qualities. Of course! She chided herself for even thinking in such a way.

School passed in a miserable blur. She didn’t care how mean Mrs. Annapurna was, how terrible her school day was, how many piles of homework she was sinking underneath.

Just make it to recess, and see Gwyn.

Gwyn was waiting for her.

He’ll always be waiting for me.

“What’s wrong, Aurora?”

Quietly, she confided what she had seen last night. To her surprise, Gwyn was not surprised in the least. Instead, he seemed disappointed that his suspicions were right and yet someone else had turned out to be a ‘jerk,’ as he lightly put it.

“...I knew IT,” he whispered, almost silently.

“What do you mean?” she said, maybe a little bit too sharply. He winced.

“Don't you remember when I told you, that I saw a sleepwalker with him?”

“Really? I didn’t remember.”

“Well, I did. And here’s irrefutable proof!”

Immediately, she was shaking her head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

He looked very skeptical, and she added, “I’m his sister. I…know him. And I know he wouldn’t do that.”

He raised an eyebrow delicately. “True…but really, is it what you know about him, or what you simply think you know about him?”

And for the first time, a terrible truth sparked inside her mind.

As they went to bed, Aurora was careful to stay awake.

She wasn’t going to confront him. She didn’t dare. She still believed he was using it out of good intentions. She just…worried that that might stray from his intentional path.

But she wanted to try it too.

Carefully, as she made sure he was deeply asleep, she cautiously took away his blanket.

Sure enough, he was pressing the sleepwalker against his forehead.

Cold foreboding flared at the edges of her conscience.

He won’t even know. I just want to try it. I’ll give it right back.

Sleep had loosened his grip on the sleepwalker, and she carefully slid it away.

He didn’t even flinch or move.

Quietly, heart beating a million times a minute, she crawled back into bed.

Who should she contact?

Who, really?

Gwyn. It wasn't a quesiton.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed it against her head, picturing Gwyn’s sweet, funny, reassuring face and warm smile.

Gwyn, are you sleeping?

The world dissolved into darkness around her, as she fell, and fell, and fell.

Chapter 9

When she opened her eyes, Aurora was standing on a black surface in complete darkness. It was eery, feeling the cool, smooth surface under her feet but not seeing it, only blackness rolling away underneath her.

She looked up.

Gwyn was there. He was on a curious sort of small podium, slickly carved out of marbles. He didn’t move a muscle. He was truly frozen, not even blinking, as if sculpted as part of the podium holding him.

In his hands, a black jewel with a glass-covered bottom and a thin crack running through it was clutched carefully.

Oh, she knew where Gwyn was now.

Icy floods rushed through her chest.

They were in the Misbehavior’s Path. The black glass-bottomed jewel was known as the Gift of Discipline, which was enchanted long ago by some Avalan saemen. When held, it caused extreme pain and torture, which was used to punish wrongdoers.

“Gwyn!” she cried. “We’re not here! It’s fine! Get down, get down from that podium right now!”

He didn’t move.

She ran to him, and pried the Gift of Discipline from his fingers.

It didn’t hurt at all.

“It’s a dream,” she said. “Gwyn, please! You can move! You’re not feeling pain…you’re just dreaming it. If you don’t want to feel the pain, you can stop feeling it! It’s not real, get down, get down!”

Carefully, almost hesitantly, he opened one eye a crack. “Who?” he whispered.

The icy floods started up again.

“Gwyn, it’s me, Aurora! Remember? This is just a dream. You’re going to wake up, into the real world! Remember? In the real world, I told you about my brother, Emperor, and the dreamvisitor. I took it from him, and I’m using it to enter your dreams right now! Get down!”

He opened another eye. “Bosh,” he said. “I’m always here. Can’t move, neither. Stuck here, and I’m definitely in pain.” His voice was ragged. “Get out,” he continued. “Get out before someone else comes.”

“What?” she said, alarmed. “What do you mean, ‘Get out before someone else comes’? It’s a dream, I told you! There’s no one else. I’m only here because I’m using the sleepwalker!”

“No,” he said. “There’s someone else in my head. I can feel them, pressing for control. Not letting me move. Making me feel the pain to try to make me give in. But I won’t give in.”

Aurora didn’t want to believe it. “Who, Gwyn?” she whispered. “Who’s there?”

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly. “I just feel the force ravaging around in my brain.”

“Then let them in,” she said. “Let them in to face me.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“They can’t hurt me in a dream,” she reassured him, though her heart was pounding.

He shook his head again. “I meant, this is my battle.”

“That’s not going to happen–they’re not going to kill me,” she promised. “Just let them take control.”

He finally nodded, and grasped her fingers. “Goodbye, Aurora. Be safe.” He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

All of his warmth seemed to melt away, till his soul seemed to be sucked out, and he was simply just a husk, skin and bone. He opened his mouth, and moved his lips. But it wasn’t his voice that came out.

“Ah, finally,” said a cold, slithery voice that had the touch of someone she couldn’t put her finger on. “Hello, Aurora.”

Don’t let them feel my fear, she commanded her brain, although it probably wouldn’t listen because it was screaming. A pain seared, white-hot, through her head, and she fell back.

“Who…are you?” she croaked through the burning in her head.

A chuckle from Gwyn’s mouth but not-Gwyn rose. “I’m not such a fool to tell you that information yet.”

The pain stopped abruptly, halting in its tracks as her head was seized in an iron grip of cold realization.

“...Emperor?” she whispered, trembling.

Casually, as if they were simply at an exchange in the street, he sat down on the dais. “Well, I always knew you were a clever little rat. Hello again, Aurora, this time as brother and sister.”

When she opened her mouth, she was thrown violently back into reality with another raging headache.

As she reopened her eyes, she realized that Emperor was gone.

Chapter 10

Blanche was not amused.

“You whaaaaaaat!?” she shrieked.

Aurora winced, and explained all of what had happened again.

Blanche blanched. “Out!” she screeched, pointing a long wrinkly finger out of the orphanage. “Out out out! I will tell you when you are permitted to re-enter. You are not allowed to come back in for anything until I receive you.”

Despite her usual meekness, Aurora felt anger bubble up in the back of her throat. A mean, stomp-my-foot feeling arose that she had never felt before. Instead, a shaky whisper came out. “You…permit me to re-enter? I…l-live here. Not allowed t-to come back o-out? That’s ab-busing m-me. That’s…” Bile burned at the back of her throat, but she never uttered the word mean, under Blanche’s ferocious stare. Her eyes were trembling with fury, and she squeezed her eyes so tight that it was a wonder they weren’t closed.

“No,” Blanche said, clipping off each syllable, tight-lipped with absolute fury. “Out. Now.”

It was freezing outside.

Like, freezing freezing.

Despite the Aval people’s natural adaptation over time to the cold frigid temperatures, that did not mean that they were completely immune. Negative-forty-three was still quite cold in Avalan standards.

Aurora shivered terribly, pulling in her furs tighter.

Despite all the cold, it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should’ve.

It didn’t need to. Something else was even worse.

Emperor.

Where had he gone?

And why did he…

Something about the way he had talked to her seemed like solid irrefutable proof that…that…

She wouldn’t think about it, she declared silently.

In fact, it might've all just been a dream. But then...why is he gone in real life, too?

Tomorrow she would tell Gwyn.

Don’t think about it.

Think about walruses.

Walruses.

Walruses

Totally not thinking about my brother.

OH MY GOSH STOP WALRUSES!

The sun had nearly reached the top of the sky when Blanche finally, still tight-lipped and practiced with stiff, jerky movements stepped out.

“Well,” she said, and her voice was still tight and limiting. “After much consideration, Aurora, POO has decided that, always, your situation has not fit our requirements actually, and now, with this, we cannot keep you anymore.” She pointed another finger. “Out of my sight. You are no longer mine.”

Chapter 11

Before she could even open her mouth to speak, Blanche turned tail and marched quickly into the orphanage, and…locked the door.

Aurora just stood there for a while, mouth dry, throat filled with bile, fists clenching and unclenching.

Then, she tipped over, like a slow avalanche, and collapsed.

When she awoke, there was much talking above her. She sensed a hint of protectiveness, a vibration of maternal care in the air.

Just like Mother…

Her heart thudded.

Why was she carrying a bunch of rocks? Her arms were heavy as coals.

The world blurred, stretched, and morphed before her eyes, woozying her head.

For a second, she saw Mother.

Her heart clenched, and she felt like she was crumbling to dust before her own…well, eyes.

Then she forced her eyes to blink. Even that one movement sent a spasm of pain jolting through her body.

The world cleared before her.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Not Mother, not Emperor, both who had haunted her dreams.

There was a pretty woman with golden curls and copper eyes swimming into view before her. Most Aval people had dark hair, and blonde hair was incredibly rare; genes of that were not often found in Aval families.

Gwyn has blonde hair too; what a coincidence. I don’t think it was that common.

So…Gwyn and this woman probably are somehow related, right?

Black spots danced in her eyes, and she blinked again to clear them. Her head twisted with pain.

“Hello,” said the woman.

Her voice is like Gwyn’s too.

I’m probably hallucinating, because after recent events…he’s the only one left.

“Hello,” repeated the woman.

Oh.

She had never answered her, nor given any indication that she had understood. She managed to open her mouth without too much pain, and but when she tried to speak, her throat was so freezingly parched that she couldn’t muster a squeak.

As if on cue, the woman promptly handed Aurora a warm drink, which she drank gratefully. In such cold weather in the middle of winter, warm drinks were very hard to acquire, able to be possessed only if you were top of second rank or up without a very, very, VERY hefty cost. Roughly…she wasn’t sure. A million and a half plarins for a warm drink machine? That was three times of Mother’s entire year’s salary.

Oh.

Mother.

Her throat was slightly wet now from the drink. “Thank you,” she croaked in a hoarse whisper.

“You’re welcome,” replied the woman elegantly.

Then, a voice erupted from what must’ve been another room. “Can I see her yet?”

Ah yes, trundling in.

There was Gwyn.

The woman smacked her head. “Oh, and how could I possibly forget?” she laughed. “I seem to be the mother of Gwyn, your good friend!”

Aurora smiled weakly, as Gwyn bounded the length of the room.

“Aurora!” he said. “I was so worried! I was leaving school when I saw you passed out on the ground!”

She shook her head. “Great…how long have I been out?”

He winced. “When did you pass out?”

She didn’t know. “Um, well, I remember sitting down this morning.”

He shrugged in a concerned manner. “Well then,” he said. “You’ve been out for at least…five hours? Six-ish hours-ish?”

And just like that, a spark seemed to go off inside Gwyn’s mother. “Whaaat??” she shrieked. “That is not good for you, not at all! Five hours at least, lying in the frigid snow and fierce winds? Most certainly not!” She bustled around, fixing food, getting more heated water…leaving Gwyn and her in one room.

“So,” said Gwyn, after a pause. “I know you have something to say. Cough it up.”

She paused, then let it all spill out.

Gwyn considered everything for a very long time. Finally, after a bajillion years of fear, he said, “I don’t know, Aurora. I don’t know what to do. I…this is…” He frowned. “I really don’t know. But…for now…I guess you could shelter with me and my mom?”

Chapter 12

3 months later

Aurora had been living very happily with Gwyn and his mom, Opaline, who treated her like she was her daughter.

It was mostly perfect.

Almost perfect.

Almost.

School would be out for the steaming summer in three weeks, and she wanted to make the most of it. But she kept seeing the newspapers, which declared about the constant war with the Hamerysse, as they had kidnapped Princess Gentoo, who was Queen Blizzard’s granddaughter, and it did put a damper on her good mood. The good thing was that the ancient Avalans had smartly knit the towns together closely, and had put them as far as possible from the beginning of their territory,, but not packing them together. It was barely noticeable, at such a distance.

You wouldn’t even think the war was there, except for the eery fighter planes and troops marching off to meet Haremysse’s. The war would be fought until Princess Gentoo was returned.

And Emperor.

What had happened to him?

Where was he?

Aurora was determined to find out.

He’s Emperor. He wouldn’t do anything bad!

Right??

…Right???

Gwyn was sitting next to her, munching on a bag of hot Potato Stix. He nudged it towards her. She shook her head, taking stiff, concentrated bites of her apple and chewing gravely, staring off into the distance, mind deep in thought.

Gwyn didn’t move his outstretched hand. With a sigh, she took out a handful of Potato Stix, and he took his bag away.

The Potato Stix were delicious, but they were not cheering her up.

After a pause where Gwyn could see that his sacrifice of Potato Stix was not helping, he said, “C’mon, Aurora. Cheer up! What’s biting ya? You know you can tell me.” A pause again. “I won’t share it with anyone else if you don’t want me too, not even Mom.”

Another pause. Then, she sighed heavily, and let it all spill out.

Once she had loosened the dam, she couldn’t stop the flood of her words. She opened her chest and scattered all her feelings out at Gwyn’s feet.

About Mother, and her death. She lost her, and she had no one.

About the war, and the loss of thousands of her fellow Avalans. She was losing everyone.

About Emperor…and his disappearance. She had lost him.

A pause, and Aurora couldn’t stop the tears that were swimming down her cheeks and splattering on the floor. She felt the weight lift on her shoulders, but the cold conscience chilled even more in her heart.

Had she gone too far in her words with Gwyn?

A cold silence. In each split-second, Aurora felt she was flying at breakneck speed through a bottomless void, speeding and speeding towards the bottom, the pit of her stomach screaming as she was swallowed up by the void’s yawning belly, only for the misery to end, then the whole ordeal to start again.

This is it. I went too far.

Then, Gwyn said in clipped, purposeful words, “...Aurora…You don’t have no one. You have me and Mom. This war will end–and you won't lose everyone. You won’t lose me. …And as for Emperor…” The air hardened. “You lost him, but that is what happened, and you should lose him, someone with that…you know.”

Aurora deeply pondered that cold response. Then, slowly, she plucked up her courage, and said, trying her best to inject humor into the situation, “Gwyn…if you were trying to make me learn something, well, your lectures are even funnier when you’re trying to be cold and wise.”

Another pause. Then, Gwyn laughed. “Well, I think I said something deep and insightful.”

“Sure you did,” she joked, giggling. “But I didn’t understand one word of it.”

Chapter 13

Summer was here.

School was out, and just the day after the summer vacations had started, a letter arrived at Gwyn’s house. It bore the Royal Seal of the Aval Kingdom.

Dear Gwynion,

Well, well, well. Animus business and the benefit of my family is put head to head once more.

On the face of the new war with the rather primitive Kingdom of Haremysse, I am sure you would understand what I mean when I say that having a saemen on my side as I fight the war would be oh so terribly helpful.

That is why I ask you to assist me in fighting that pesky little war. Saemen magic is sure to be helpful!

But you are required to move into the palace to do that. Now, I am going to be generous this time, by saying you may bring one companion to settle in the palace with you, to keep you accountable.

I command you to reply to me as soon as humanly possible.

Your majesty’s truly,

Queen Blizzard of the Aval Kingdom

A light pause, and the expressions on Gwyn’s and Opaline’s faces told Aurora that Queen Blizzard had gone one step too far.

Oh so no. This is not going to end well for Queen Blizzard, I’m sure of it.

Opaline finally squeaked out what had been playing on their faces. “Oh come on!” she says. “Not again! Trust Her Most Majestical Frostiness Queen Blizzard of the Aval Kingdom, O Hear Her Name and Tremble, Argh Argh to do this.” She pulled Gwyn into a tight hug. “I just got you back. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“What do you mean?” Aurora asked, puzzled. “You see him every day, don’t you?”

Opaline shook her head gravely, tightening her grip on Gwyn. “He attended school as a boarding student. He only came home on weekends, and normally, he’d been buried deep in snowstorms of homework. I just got him back recently.”

“Why didn't you just ask him to become a day student?” asked Aurora, perplexed.

Opaline shook her head once again, looking a bit sheepish as she said, embarrassedly, “It’s…not that simple. See…well, um, I am kind of struggling with…with…financial problems. I couldn't…afford to…to pay for Gwyn’s attendance at home too.”

Aurora’s eyebrows skated up her forehead. “Opaline, you’re at the top of the second rank!”

Opaline was turning a delicate shade of rose that was blooming across her cheeks. She looked down. “It’s not that simple either. I work as a professor at AIMS, aka the Avalan Institute of Medicinal Sciences, in another town, Among the Evergreens that Cry at Dusk. We are facing much unemployment. I am facing unemployment. We are losing much money, even though I haven’t been laid off yet. My paychecks have been reduced to 1¢ a month. Just recently, things had been looking up a bit, and at that point, I just couldn't take it anymore, so I decided I would take Gwyn back, even if it was expensive and unbeneficial to our financial status. Now that you're here...I'm sorry, dear.”

“What?” cried Gwyn, shocked. “You never told me about that! You usually get 50¢ a month, and you always claim you’re overpaid, but…but 1¢ a month-!”

Opaline ruffled his hair softly. “I didn’t want you to worry. I must confess to you both something. About a month ago, when the war first started…”

“Yes?” Gwyn whispered.

“When the war first started,” continued Opaline. “Blizzard came to me, and privately requested Gwyn’s stay at the palace. Well…I’m not sure I could even bear it anymore. So I flatly told her no (though of course, in a nicer, more respectful manner). And now, she is asking me again. I have told her no, so now she is commanding Gwyn’s compliance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Gwyn.

“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” muttered Opaline.

“At least,” Aurora said, chiming in, and trying to inject a note of optimism in the situation. “Somebody can be with him in the castle.”

“That’s right!” said Opaline, brightening. “I guess I can stay with you!”

Behind her back, Aurora twisted her hands together. She was very happy for Opaline and Gwyn, but she felt a twinge of panic. What’s going to happen to me without Opaline and Gwyn?

Gwyn nodded absentmindedly. He seemed distracted.

“Gwyn…?” asked Opaline. “Do you want to say something?”

Gwyn took a deep breath. “Well, Mum…” He bit his lip. “I was wondering…if Aurora could go with me, actually?”

Chapter 14

On the first day of Aurora’s day at the palace, she met her match.

She felt so imposed, so in awe as she stood there. The walls were sculpted of ice, the pillars arched condescendingly, the tall windows paneled and tinted…but Gwyn looked perfectly at home.

Disgruntled at home, in fact.

“Come on,” he grunted, pulling her along.

“Wha-”

“She’s coming,” he said behind gritted teeth. “I don’t want to see her again.”

“Wha-”

“Aurora, listen to me, it’s a no on this one. Explaining later.”

“Okay,” she said, after they had been shown to their guest quarters. “What was all that?”

He explained behind his hand. “Queen Blizzard’s other granddaughter, Princess Howlite, is a spoiled 5-year-old and she really dislikes me. She doesn’t openly show it, but she’s a vicious walrus to me.”

“Oh my gosh, Gwyn,” Aurora replied, shaking her head. “What did you even do?”

He shrugged. “For all I know, I ate her favorite food. She had like, ⅔ of the entire plate! She was even throwing up because she ate too much, and she still got mad at me for taking a single piece of Scrambled Cheese.”

She slapped her forehead in exasperation. “That makes no sense. I think I should meet her anyway.”

He winced. “Then not with me. Good luck, but I warned you.”

That afternoon, Aurora was invited to her first ever royal lunch.

At the head of the table, Queen Blizzard sat in a polar bear furred wicker seat, the largest at the table. At the other end…that must be her.

She had dark curls pulled into two tight, long pigtails on the sides of her head. That must be Princess Howlite, the third-most famous face in the Kingdom of Aval.

Aurora dragged her vision away as Queen Blizzard started speaking. “Hello, friends,” she said, assuming a parliamentary air. “Today we are here to receive two new friends-”

“Graaaandmommyyyy!!” cried Princess Howlite, squirming. “There’s too much salt in the fried eggs!!”

Queen Blizzard’s face tightened. “Of course,” she said. “Cooks, get less-salty eggs.”

The cooks complied, but barely three seconds after tasting, Princess Howlite wretched and squirmed even more. “NO!! TOO UN-SALTY!!” “That will do, Howlite,” snapped Queen Blizzard.

“Princess Howlite!” wailed Princess Howlite.

“I. Am. Your. Grandmother,” said Queen Blizzard coldly. “You listen to me. You are embarrassing me and you in front of all these people, and I am ashamed of my spoiled, bratty granddaughter.”

A second, a moment, and then…Princess Howlite fainted.

Gwyn squeezed her hand, and made a See what I mean? face.

Queen Blizzard continued. “As I was saying, today we have the privilege of being joined by two very special friends. Gwynion Levurek, and his companion, Aurora Oliyare.”

Aurora lowered her head. Mother had never known her family’s last name, because she had been left on the streets as an orphan and had grown up with the family she was a servant to. Therefore, Aurora’s last name was mostly referred to as ‘Oliyare,’ because that was a very, very common last name in Aval–so common that one in five to six people had that name, and there was the greatest chance that Aurora’s unknown last name was Oliyare. However, when she turned of adult age (eighteen) she had to be serious and choose a last name–and it was probably still going to be Oliyare, because she couldn’t think of anything else she would be called.

She felt red blooming across her face in embarrassment. Introduction to all the queen’s court…

Is this really happening?

Life is a dream…

Everyone murmured their welcomings, and then Queen Blizzard went on. “On a more serious note, why have they come here? Well, as you all know by now, Gwynion here is an saemen. And it would be oh so terribly helpful if he’d donate some of his wonderful magic to help win that pesky little war we are undergoing with the rather annoying and dim Haremyssen.”

Aurora would not refer to the war as that pesky little war we are undergoing with the rather annoying and dim Haremysse. She would refer to it as the big bad terrible war that we and the Haremyssen are conversing in when they stole Princess Gentoo.

She paused that train of thought as she noticed something else in Queen Blizzard’s sentence. She had said, Well, as you all know by now, Gwynion here is a saemen. She had not called Gwyn by his nickname. Come to think of it, she had not heard anyone but her and Opaline refer to Gwyn as his nickname. Not even…Queen Blizzard, she guessed. Warmth drowned out her unpleasant feelings, or her embarrassment.

After that boring lunchtime, Gwyn excused himself to go to the bathroom, so she decided it was a good opportunity to explore the palace. She was wandering along a long hallway with a statue of the old mad queen, Diamond, when rapid footsteps lolled around the corner…and there was Princess Howlite, now in a red-checkerboard overalls-style dress, on top of a white long-sleeve top and white tights and Mary Jane shoes.

Seriously? Aurora chortled silently. Seriously? She seriously wears Mary Jane shoes??

Princess Howlite stopped in front of her, and looked expectantly at her.

Am I supposed to be doing something?

“...Yes, Princess Howlite?” she asked, cautiously.

Princess Howlite looked rather hurt and miffed for a while, before saying, in her trademark brattish voice, “You’re supposed to bow. But of course, I think your brains are not as good as mine. You’re pretty, but not as pretty as me, and definitely not as bright. So since you are much dumber than I am, like everyone else, you haven’t worked that out. Still, rude, not bowing to a queen.”

“Princess,” corrected Aurora.

“Huh?” said Princess Howlite, who looked utterly annoyed and confused.

Uh-huh, Princess Howlite. A baby could understand what I’m trying to say, and you can’t. ‘Your brains are not as good as mine’ indeed.

“You mean Princess, not queen. You should be saying, ‘Still, rude, not bowing to a princess,’ not ‘Still, rude, not bowing to a queen.’ Your grandmother is Queen Blizzard, but you are Princess Howlite.”

For several seconds, fury and annoyance tangoed each other on Princess Howlite’s face. Then, she made up her mind. “So to speak, you!” she wailed. “You’re not even a princess. And I will be queen, just you wait, since that so annoying sissy has left. Grandmommy is just a pawn on my chessboard!! And I am the queen.”

Aurora didn’t play chess, but she knew about the pieces. “Alright, then. You win. Sooo, if Queen Blizzard is just a pawn because you’re the queen, who is the king?” she teased. She had no idea why she was doing this. Talking back to a royal! Two months ago, this would be insanity. But somehow, being with Gwyn and Opaline had brought her new strength. “Also, who is this ‘sissy’? Wait, let me guess. The most wonderful, splendiferous, beautiful, intelligent highness, Princess Gentoo?”

“NO!” roared Princess Howlite. “SHE’S NOT WONDERFUL, SHE’S NOT SPLENDIFEROUS, BEAUTIFUL, INTELLIGENT OR ANY OTHER STUFF THAT I HAVE!! SHE’S A BRAT!!!”

Aurora had heard about Princess Gentoo from Gwyn, because before she had been kidnapped, Queen Blizzard had made sure she and Gwyn had spent plenty of time together, and Gwyn strongly suspected this was because Queen Blizzard was trying to eventually get her and Gwyn engaged so the animus magic could still be breeded into the royal bloodline. Princess Gentoo, apparently, was calm, quiet, a little shy, thoughtful, and serene. Sometimes it was like, according to Gwyn, she was in her own mellow world, and she probably saw this world differently than most people too. Somehow, Aurora found herself shooting comebacks at Princess Howlite. “Um, Princess Howlite, sorry to burst your little bubble, but Princess Gentoo is not your mirror.”

Princess Howlite paused while she tried to understand what Aurora had meant. Then, she said, “UGH!! WAS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE A COMEBACK? BECAUSE IF IT WAS, IT’S SO UTTERLY STUPID THAT I CAN’T EVEN UNDERSTAND IT WITH MY FABULOUS BRAIN.”

“Or maybe,” returned Aurora evenly, “You can’t understand my comeback because you’re stupid, not the comeback.”

Princess Howlite paused again while she processed what Aurora had said, then she snapped, “LOOK, CAN WE CHANGE THIS STUPID SUBJECT? I’M NOT GOING TO DIGNIFY THIS CONVERSATION BY SPEAKING IN IT.”

“Firstly, you just literally spoke in this conversation,” said Aurora steadily. “And, secondly, why should I?”

“BECAUSE I FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE,” bellowed Princess Howlite. Aurora felt like the word ‘uncomfortable’ was possibly the longest thing that had ever come out of Princess Howlite’s mouth.

“And I should care because?” she asked, feeling bemused, and a little bit shocked that someone would be this dumb.

“OH MY GOSH ARE WE DONE WITH THE ANTICS?!” screamed Princess Howlite in frustration. “I HEARD YOUR MOMMY WAS MURDERED!!”

A stab at Aurora’s heart. So, Princess Howlite had found the hole in her shield. But she wouldn’t let Princess Howlite see that. “Um,” she said, raising an eyebrow. She spoke gently, as if Princess Howlite had said that one plus one made eleven. “This might surprise you, but there is a thing in this crazy world called drowning. My mother drowned. She wasn’t murdered. To be murdered means somebody has willingly killed you.”

“Yeah!” shouted Princess Howlite. “Joke’s on you! You have a stupid brain, but of course not royal. The water willingly killed your mommy!”

“Uh-huh,” Aurora replied. “I do so hate to interrupt little sweet devils in their adorable little dreams, but the water is in fact not sentient. Therefore, it is not a somebody. A somebody has to be alive, which the water is not.”

“WHO CARES!?” screeched Princess Howlite in annoyance.

“I do,” said Aurora.

“YEAH, WELL, WHAT DO YOU KNOW!! YOU’RE A NOBODY.”

“I share that honor with a certain person named Princess Howlite.”

“ARGH!! YEAH WELL…YOU CALLED YOUR MOMMY ‘MOMMY’!”

“No, I didn’t. You called my mother ‘mommy.’”

“AGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And with that, Princess Howlite tore a strand of hair out of her head with frustration, stomped hard on the floor, and started letting big fat tears fall from her eyes. The whole time, Aurora watched, annoyed and amused at the same time. Obviously, she was not as easily swayed as Queen Blizzard. Princess Howlite screamed and kicked and stamped, but nothing from Aurora, so she ran, crying, away.

Princess Howlite had wounded Aurora, she’d cut Aurora.

But she would never see Aurora bleed.

Chapter 15

Queen Blizzard claimed that she had put Gwyn and Aurora in the very best guest suite for two, and it certainly looked like it. It had two floors, both with a rich cherry wood floor. A grand spiraling staircase led up to the second room, cherry wood as well, with a solid gold banister.. The walls were smooth, honed marble, and the first floor had a master bathroom, and a half-bathroom. The master bathroom even had a toilet of solid quartz! Then there was a sitting room, which was simply just the big fancy name for the living room. There were two couches, a huge contraption nailed to the wall called a plasma TV, whatever that was. Gwyn explained that the TV was short for television (but he called it the telly), and it was a device for transmitting visual images and sound that are reproduced on screens, chiefly used to broadcast programs for entertainment, information, and education, and a bunch of other baloney that Aurora hadn’t understood a single word of. Heck, what he had said before she droned off was scientific enough! She didn’t even understand that either. There was a beautiful kitchen, but nobody really used it, because the palace servants usually delivered the food. There was also a simply lavish dining room, but she had gotten accustomed to eating on the couch in front of the telly.

On the second floor, there were two separate bedrooms, one for her, one for Gwyn. There was yet another bathroom, and two walk-in closets.

Aurora was simply astonished. She had never lived this way, not even at Gwyn’s residence!

How spoiled she was. She lived in utter perfection.

Utter not-perfection.

She didn’t deserve a moment of this.

She glanced up to the window. It was a dome of black, veiled cloud fingers reached out across the night sky, barely noticeable.

She felt a strange, tingling sensation in her head, like the slight jolt you get when you tip back, untethered.

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Gwyn!” she called, twisting away from the window.

She gasped in horror. Gwyn was collapsed against the wall. His face contorted in agony, his eyes tightly shut. He was bleeding, bleeding bad, from his sternum.

Fear pounded in her heart, which was screaming. Her world seemed to suddenly grind to a halt.

Gwyn!

She screamed. “Gwyn!!”

“Shut up,” said a voice. She whirled around, hands up, as if she could do anything, and her heart froze and seemed to die from falling into her stomach.

It was Emperor.

Emperor.

Emperor!

She blinked hard, desperately trying to make sure it was just a mirage.

But no. Emperor was there. He was taller, tanner, his hair longer. But it was Emperor.

Her brain cells were fainting dead away by the second. She just couldn’t keep up with this! She needed to say something. She needed to move. She needed to help Gwyn!!

But all she could see was Emperor. She stared dazedly.

He would never hurt me. He loves me.

A vivid memory crashed in full force on her. He had just turned seven, and she was still five. She dimly remembered that she hadn’t always been sixth ranked. She was in a beautiful life, where there were no ranks and hard rules. She and Emperor and Mother had lived in a small, serene picturesque town. Every day, she would lean out of their house’s window and watch the sun kissing the house walls gold as the moon started to climb the stairs of the sky. She was happy. Everyone there was happy.

A jolt ran through her, chilling her to the bone.

She had lived with Mother and Emperor by the seaside, in a small town, tranquil and prosperous. Small fields upon small fields of ripening wheat, well-paved roads, and two richly rippling brooks that sprouted through the town, leading to the sea. A few strong bridges had been built over the two brooks. She thought the town had been called…Trickle Crest? Yes. The family hadn’t been struggling. In fact, they had been prosperous. Mother worked as a teacher for ballet and piano.

She also remembered fleeing Trickle Crest abruptly. She thought harder. Oh…no. Trickle Crest sat on the border of the Haremysse and Eldoris Kingdoms, neither belonging to the former nor the latter. The population, therefore, was mostly Tengrish and Eldorisian, and many Tengrish-Eldorisian hybrids, but there were also several Avalan families. But then one day, Queen Blizzard decided to royally stomp up to Trickle Crest and scoop all the Avalans as if they were ice cream out of the ice cream carton and herd them back to Aval. They were set at the bottom of the ranks as punishment for ‘meddling with those low-lifes.’

She also remembered a time in Trickle Crest before all of the herding-back-to-Aval business. It was a Saturday, and Mother had left to attend the Town Meeting which happened monthly. For all Aurora knew, deeply boring people were deeply engrossed in a deeply boring conversation about deeply boring things. Mother had left for the Town Meeting, leaving her and Emperor at home. Emperor was sitting at the piano bench, and he was playing a song called ‘A Million Dreams.’ Both sister and brother sang along with the song.

They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy,

They can say, they can say I’ve lost my mind…

I don’t care, I don’t care, so call me crazy–

We can live in a world that we design…!

’Cuz every night I lie in bed, the brightest colors fill my head,

A million dreams are keeping me awake…

I think of what the world could be (be):

A vision of the world I see–

A million dreams is all it’s going to take!

(Oh, a million dreams for the world we’re going to make)...

Pain and confirmation rushed through Aurora, an unstoppable tsunami.

Emperor had loved her once.

Did he still?

She was dragged back to reality, and saw that she was staring down the barrel-point…of a gun.

Fear screamed louder than her mind.

MOVE!! CAN’T YOU SEE IT’S ALL GOING DOWN THE TOILET?!

Then…something strange happened.

Emperor put down his gun, and chuckled. He opened his mouth, and spoke with his trademark slightly raspy, weathered voice. “‘It’s all going down the toilet,”’ he said, chortling. “What an interesting expression. Where’d you pick that up? Though honestly, you’ve come a long, long way for someone so…meek.”

Aurora was shocked, floored. But she was also stunned into action. “How…how’d you know?” she whispered.

He laughed. It was not his normal warm, welcoming one. It was cold and menacing, a figure of threat. “Didn’t your little Gwynion tell you that one? Ever since you stole that dreamvisitor from me, I mean, I’ve been…developing too.”

“Enlighten me,” she challenged, and was even more surprised to hear herself talking like that. Emperor did too.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll hand you that,” he chuckled. “Be careful, Aurora. You’re gutsy, but you’re always delusional. The world isn’t your playground.”

“It isn’t yours, either,” she flashed back.

Calmly, he raised his gun again. “I don’t want to pull the trigger, but no one controls me. I’ve got a weapon in my hand, and I’m ready to use it,” he warned. “Aurora, Aurora. You are coming with me.”

“Answer me first,” she said. “How did you know my expression, ‘It’s all going down the toilet’? I’ve never said it in front of you before.”

“Well, maybe you just don’t remember,” he said casually, playing with the touchole of his gun.

“No. Stop,” she commanded. Aurora was stunned by the ferocity and command in her voice. “You’re going to use that against me. You’re going to let me think that I told you, but I didn’t, so in reality you can keep using whatever you’re using on me without me sniffing around.”

He narrowed his eyes, then clapped his hands. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“If you say so,” she said evenly, picturing Emperor as Princess Howlite.

He laughed again. “That little girl is weak beyond my dreams, Aurora. You won’t defeat me so easily.”

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she asked, a cold whisper of horror chilling her spine. “You’re reading my mind. Otherwise, you wouldn’t know my expression and how I’m picturing you as Princess Howlite.”

There was a stony pause, and Aurora knew that when that happened, she had always touched a nerve with Emperor.

“Old habits don’t change much, either,” she added.

Then, decidedly, he raised his gun…and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 16

Aurora blinked. A second ago, she could’ve sworn she was standing in her guest suite for two in the Avalan Palace. Now…she was someplace underground. An underground lair, possibly? Clearly unevenly hollowed out from the stone, resembling a small cavern. She was sitting behind bars, on one side of the room which held a bunch of prison cells. On the other side, there was a door leading to another smaller room, a small desk with a bowl of blueberries on it and a calendar…and a picture. Her heart froze. It was her. Her and Emperor.

She was sharing a cell with a small child, who was sitting next to her, staring off into the distance, with a pixie lob of dyed-green hair, fading to black on the top. The child's skin was so pale, it was nearly translucent. Even by Avalan standards, this child was unusual. The child’s skin was stretched across the body, bones jutting out, skin ghostly, eyes green like the hair, looking haunted, as if holding bad memories.

“Hello?” she asked tentatively. “What’s your name?”

“Arwen.”

“Are you a boy or a girl?”

“Neither. I’m nonbinary.”

“Non…binary?”

“Yeah. I’m neither a boy or a girl.”

“So what should I call you? He or she?”

“Neither. Call me they-them.”

“They-them,” she said, testing it out. “That’s...nice.”

Arwen nodded. “They kept calling me a girl, because I was a girl when I was born. But I knew they were wrong.” They picked at a scab on their leg. “I guess you’re wondering why you’re here?”

“Yup,” she said.

“We’re here,” they said, “Because we can blab.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Our captor, Emperor I think his name is, he thinks he’s so discreet, but he talks to himself. I hear him talking about you a lot. You’re his younger sister, Aurora?”

“Wow,” she said, breath taken. “Bingo.”

“Yeah. So basically, you have a friend named Gwynion. Who happens to be an saemen. Interesting. Yeah well, so Emperor says that he needed Gwynion’s help with some enchantment magic so he can…yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah well, to put it flatly, your big brother is a crime boss in drug smuggling.” Arwen seemed to wait for Aurora’s reaction. “What’s the matter? You’ve just learned your big brother is a crime boss in drug smuggling. What, got a silver spoon stuck in your mouth, yeah?”

They always seemed to be saying the word ‘yeah’ so much. To be truthful, Aurora wasn’t reacting because her shock was beyond that.

What had they said? A crime boss in drug smuggling?

Never, never! Funny, sweet Emperor, a crime boss? Her world was gently, slowly tipping over, till it was upside-down, ever so slowly so she had the benefit of feeling dizzy nausea every tip, till her confusion and hysteria welled up her throat, and she threw up a sea of disbelief. She was no longer in the protective, shiny bubble that she had been in with Mother and Emperor. She was poor, but she realized that she could be much worse. She could be broken and betrayed. That bubble had popped long, long ago. And as she reflected over the past, she felt like it was reading a storybook, because it was nothing like her anymore. She could see the pictures. A carefree young girl running through Trickle Crest, over a small bridge. The page turned. She was now huddling in a small, ramshackle shack, at the mercy of the wind and snow. But she had Mother. And she had Emperor–or who she thought he was. She felt like holes being torn into her as she was swallowed by darkness. Despite all the horror and pain she’d faced since Mother’s death, she would never go back to that happy ignorance. That girl was forever gone. Maybe she never existed. Because Trickle Crest wasn’t real. That shack wasn’t real. Mother wasn’t real. Fake Emperor wasn’t real. They were only figments of her memory, and what was real was only happening right now, in front of her eyes.

“Repeat that?” she croaked.

Arwen sighed. “Yeah, yeah,” they muttered. “Here we go. Your big brother is a crime boss in drug smuggling.”

This time, ready for it, she reacted. “WHAT?” she cried. “Emperor would never!”

They rolled their eyes. “Yeah, if you say so, but I’m afraid he is. Have you been living under a very posh and sparkly rock your entire life? Never noticed the signs? Even before I understood what was going on, I knew something was fishy. He claimed to be an inmate, but…I didn’t trust him. And an ‘inmate’? What cheesy language.” They scoffed. “Yeah, I have a strong suspicion that your Emperor liked to read prison books. To answer you simply, he needed Gwynion’s help. So he went to Gwynion. But Gwynion said no. And he went to tell you. So Emperor knocked him unconscious, to put it mildly. And you witnessed it. You had to be incarcerated so you wouldn’t tell Queen Blizzard about him.”

Was there more than shock? She had been subjected to so much shock over this month. And she thought that there had better be a word for something stronger than shock. She needed a change of subject, and she needed it fast. “Soooo,” she said. “If I’m here so I won’t tell Queen Blizzard, why are you here?”

They turned away from her, and she was pretty sure she had said too much.

She knew that feeling only too well. You’ve blabbed too much, and nobody will ever want to tell you things ever again. That feeling was sitting Gwyn, sharing Potato Stix. Back then, his offering had meant so much to her. He loved Potato Stix, and she had never seen him give them up so easily, so effortlessly, so willingly, without a touch of hesitation. But she needed to be able to see the whole picture, larger than a handful of Potato Stix. Potato Stix were just Potato Stix, and they didn’t matter.

Why would you do this to me Gwyn? Why? Why would do something as stupid as this? I wish you were never an saemen. I wish I’d never met you. I wish you were never born. Then you’d never get into this mess.

Honestly though, I’d rather spend eighteen years alive knowing Gwyn than spending one hundred without him.

Oh Gwyn.

Gwyn, come back to me. Please.

She was brought back to earth by Arwen’s voice. “Because he didn’t want me to blab either.”

She blinked. “What do you mean?” she asked, before she could halt herself.

“Because my sibling, Cameron, was taken,” they said, “And I witnessed it.”

“Your…sibling?” This time she was ready for the hint. “Is Cameron nonbinary too?”

They nodded. “Nonbinary twins, you know, it’s so strange. But we all bow to nature.”

She sniffled. Somehow, their words made Aurora feel devastated.

No use.

Cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it.

“Interesting,” said a voice.

Aurora looked up immediately, and fear zig-zagged all the way up to her skull from the bottom of her foot.

Arwen looked less amused. “Graced by a visit from the crime boss of drug smuggling. This is a special night. Guess what, Aurora, you sharing a cell with me is giving me more perks.”

“Shut up, girly gogger.” Emperor’s tone was menacing, and Aurora was pretty sure that he had used the word ‘girly’ on purpose.

“Shut up yourself,” they returned coolly. “I’m trying to get to know my cell partner better, so if you’ll mind backing off and tormenting someone else, I’ll be much obliged.”

Emperor ignored them. He turned to her. Fear whispered down her spine, just like when she had realized he was reading her mind.

How did he do that?

“Cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it,” he commented. “Interesting again. You’ve picked up quite a lot of different expressions, Aury.”

She flinched. He might as well as have stabbed her with a dull knife. When they were young, Emperor used to call her Aury. No more, no more.

“I’d just think I’d restart that tradition, again, you know?” he said amiably. Then he frowned. “I’m sure Arwen here has filled you in on all the various different boring topics–oh my god, skip the despicable lecture–oh my god–before you bore me to death, thank you very much.”

Aurora was surprised that the emotion she had been filled with was…compassion. And anger.

“So to speak, Emperor!” she cried. “Why would you do this? You’re the sweet, warm, funny brother! Not, ahem, a ‘crime boss in drug smuggling’! Why would you ever do anything like that?!”

He stared at her for a while, then burst out laughing. “Really? I’ve masked my intentions that well? Alright Aury. I’ll tell you. I bet you think this world is a wonderful place, and you’re thanking your lucky stars you were born here. But there is one thing that I learned, and you will soon learn too. However much effort you put into trying to make the world a better place, the world doesn’t always acknowledge your efforts.”

“Enlighten me,” she challenged.

He sighed. “If you must.”

Chapter 17

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath Aurora’s feet, and she was dumped into an endless void that threatened to swallow her up.

And then…

She stopped falling. She looked around, utterly confused. She was standing in…in their house in Trickle Crest! There was Mother, dusting the great grandfather clock. Her heart ached with sadness. The sound of a voice lilted out from behind her, and she whirled around.

It was Emperor. Young Emperor, like when she was just a little child. But it was definitely him. He was sitting in an armchair, reading a picture book about…polar bears? She swallowed hard, twisting her hands behind her back. Emperor’s favorite animals to this day were polar bears.

“Mommy!” he said, face holding nothing but pure joy. She felt a pang in her heart. She hadn’t seen Emperor like this for so long. So long, that she couldn’t even remember the last time his face had held nothing but joy. That anyone, except Gwyn's, had.

Suddenly, she couldn't remember Gwyn's eyes. Gwyn's laugh. Gwyn's smile.

“Mommy!” he said again. “Did you know that polar bears’ skin is black, underneath all that white fur?”

Mother laughed. “Oh, Emperor,” she mused, putting away her feather duster. “I must say you never disappoint me when it comes to interesting facts.”

She checked her watch, and her eyebrows skated up her forehead. “Emperor!” she cried, her happy face dropping immediately into perpetual fear. “Where’s Aurora?”

Suddenly, Emperor’s happy face too was eclipsed, but now with annoyance and unhappiness at the mention of Aurora. “I…don’t know,” he said evasively. “I…I can help look for her…if…if you want.”

Mother was crying now. “She said she’d be back by two o’clock…it’s nearly six now, Emperor, and she’s never tardy. What if–what if she fell into one of the brooks? She doesn’t know how to swim! What if she drowned??”

She had never seen Emperor look so annoyed and bothered in his entire life. He had that, well, if she's drowned, then all my problems are solved look. “Mommy, the brooks aren’t even that deep, but I’ll check.” He slipped out of the front door.

She followed anxiously. She wanted to know, too. What was she doing? What had happened to her?

As soon as he was out of eyeshot from Mother, Emperor broke into a trembling run. Aurora struggled to keep up with him.

Emperor! Where…are you going??

He skidded to a stop, and she nearly bumped into him.

He was standing next to a grove of trees, on the edge of town. He ventured into the wild thicket, till he reached the tallest oak in the small wood. He knelt down, and began…feeling the ground. Puzzled, Aurora knelt down next to him. She felt a jut in the ground, and Emperor saw it. He reached for it, and she managed to pull her fingers away before he reached them. He grabbed firmly on the little piece of thing jutting out from the dirt–most likely a root from a nearby tree–and yanked as hard as he possibly could.

Aurora just had time to contemplate what the heck was he doing–

AAAAAHHHH!!!

As he pulled hard, he yanked away the branch…and with it, came a whole chunk of dirt falling away into darkness. She had the extreme misfortune of kneeling on that patch of dirt when it gave way.

She fell into darkness yet again, screaming as loudly as she could until her throat felt raw. The pit in her stomach seemed to open up, the one you have when you’re falling away with nothing to support you at high speeds. Fear clashed with excitement in her mind.

What’s this supposed to be?

The light from the sky was the size of a small postage-stamp. In a sort of delusionally dazed way, she wondered bemusedly if this was the last sun she would ever see.

Life is a dream, she speculated. Every flash of sun could be my last.

She looked back up at the opening in the ground to see a distant figure leaping headfirst.

Emperor.

Her attention was drawn from Emperor, who was falling about fifty feet above her, when she abruptly slammed into solid stone ground, sending shivers of pain riveting up from her back into the rest of her body.

There was no way she would’ve survived the fall, but the ground felt sort of tingly, and…

The realization struck her full force.

The ground was enchanted by an saemen.

How did Emperor know about this? Who was the saemen?

She felt sick for a second. Trickle Crest was by the seaside. Gwyn had been born in the Eldorisian Kingdom. Could it have been…him?

She shook that thought off hard. No way. Gwyn would never use his magic for creepy tunnels underground like this.

Then, she was dragged abruptly back to reality with a swift blow dealt to her as Emperor landed smack on top of her, slamming into her and rolling to the right with a grunt.

She squeezed her eyes shut as stars danced around her brain.

Argh…everything hurts…

She blinked. Emperor was leaving, following the ominous stone tunnel deeper underground as it sloped away into rolling darkness.

Eventually, she knew she couldn’t just lie there. And she really was immensely curious about what this all was. So she pushed herself up, and forced herself to follow Emperor’s younger self.

The tunnel twisted and turned as it sloped down, down, down.

Eventually, he paused. By each second they spent here, Aurora’s heart hammered more vigorously. What was happening?

She plowed to an anxious stop behind Emperor. He peered at the dead end, examined it in several different spots, then seemed to make up his mind about something. He took a deep breath, and then shoved the dead end with all his might possible. Then, to Aurora’s breathtaking shock…the dead end’s stone face melted away, opening up to reveal a small, airtight cavern.

He stepped in, and she was nearly shut out in her face before she managed to slip in just in time.

There was nothing but a cage hanging from the top of the tiny cave.

Aurora nearly fainted.

The little girl who was hanging in the cage…

Was her.

Chapter 18

The world flashed before her eyes…and when she blinked again, it had melted away. She was sitting in the cells in Emperor’s underground cavern-lair, looking at Emperor…who strangely bore a look of pained reminiscence.

She remembered what had just happened. “What…,” she whispered. “...Was that?!”

Arwen looked haunted. “Bad things,” they muttered, twisting and wringing their hands. “Cameron…”

“You saw it, too?” she said, alarmed.

“Yeah,” they said, face pained. They looked like a frail child. For once, they couldn't say their favorite word with conviction.

Emperor glared at her. “So, now you see everything,” he said, coldly.

“See what?” she said urgently. “What was that even?”

“I implanted my memory in your head,” he said gravely. “I’m not lying. This actually happened. We were in Trickle Crest, and I…”

“Yes?”

“I put you in a tunnel. And caged you. That’s how long I’ve had this conscience inside me.”

“But…why!?” she cried.

He stared at her, and Aurora felt like his gaze was a snake, burrowing deep into her soul, searching for prey, twisting and wriggling and gasping for air. “Because your mother is not mine.”

What?

No way. He’s just kidding.

When will I stop feeling shocked?

“Did you just say…” she croaked.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The woman who is your mother is not mine.”

“But…how!?” she cried.

“Because she experimented. I was never her biological son. She is not Avalan. She is Haremyssen. She is a psychological scientist from Haremysse who wanted to find out if she raised her own child and another child together and made them believe that they were both biologically related, would they discover the truth eventually, and if not, would they still have the same sibling-y feelings that biological ones do? And, the answer is, no. I discovered the truth all the way back in Trickle Crest, rooting through her files. She’s obviously not that good at the psychological things as she’s supposed to be, because I let her get away with it, and I never confronted her, so she didn’t realize that I had figured out the truth until the very end.” There wasn’t a crumb of remorse in his voice. “If she did this to me, and got away with it, it’s not fair. So I’m fully justified in getting away with killing her. For ruining my life.”

“WHAT?!” Aurora shrieked, utterly horrified.

“Yes. I killed her,” he said, looking almost…satisfied with himself. “She probably would’ve survived getting a dip in the ocean if not for my interference. I jumped in after her, and dragged her to the bottom. I found a small air pocket, and told her, ‘This is my revenge. It’s not fair that you get away with ruining my life in exchange for nothing. You ruined mine, and here I am, messed up. So I’m more than justified to end yours. Ending your life is much easier than ruining yours, in my opinion. Take a look around. This will be your grave. And the only flowers there will be your blood.’ So I dragged her out from the air pocket, and used the stone pellet to hold her down. That was how she drowned, out of air at the bottom. I started for the top, but I must’ve ran out of air and lost consciousness. And that was how you found me. But at least it was worth it. She found out at the end of her life that she hadn’t gotten away with it after all. You don’t ruin someone else’s life for nothing.”

Aurora pressed against the jagged stone on the other side of the holding cell, terrified. “Emperor…” she whispered. “You killed Mother…”

“No.” She had never seen such flat anger burrowing deep in Emperor’s eyes. “I killed your mother. She was never mine. And she deserved it!” His voice suddenly caught in his throat, as if he was holding back a sob. “She deserved it, after all the cruelty she had dealt me. I was just her lab rat, the bacteria in the petri dish underneath her microscope.”

She couldn’t keep up. Mother was her mother only. She was a psychological scientist from Tengri who experimented on Emperor, and Emperor ended up killing her. And somehow…Aurora was terrified to admit this…but he had done the right thing, because it just wasn’t right to do that without punishment. She desperately needed to get away from Mother’s death details. Then, she realized something. “No. There’s more to it than that. That cave…it was made from magic. No way it could be carved by hand. Who made it?”

Emperor took a step back, as if stung. “You really want to know?” he hissed, soft and low.

“Yes,” she whispered, but the fear piercing red-hot into her was terrible.

Was it Gwyn? she thought anxiously.

“No.” Emperor’s voice seemed…almost relieved that she thought that. “Trust me, I do wish more than anything at that moment that Gwynion did enchant it. But he didn’t. Ready for the shock of your life? …I did.”

The world was melting away before Aurora’s eyes, all reality shattering, falling, falling, through the creases and openings in her heart. Emperor just tore open his chest, and threw the pieces of his heart at her feet. And those pieces were the cold reality. The ghosts she was hiding from. The storm she was running from. The monsters under her bed. Her greatest fears, and she couldn’t put off facing them any longer.

Emperor enchanted it?

“HOW?” she cried, stunned.

“Bits and pieces, pieces and bits,” Arwen muttered, grinding their teeth. “No, Cameron, don’t leave me…not when the world starts to tip the right way up…”

“Biggest mistake of my life,” Emperor growled. “I don’t care how special having magic makes me. I wish I was never born. I wish I was never an saemen.” His voice broke. “That magic cost me too much. It scarred my soul, after a bunch of other trifles. I can never use my magic again. Not without going insane.”

“You’re…a saemen!?” she cried. The world made no sense at all.

“Yup,” he said bitterly. “And guess what,” he added. “You sure you want to know this other piece of information?”

“Anything,” she croaked.

“Well…” His voice cracked, and he lowered it. “...My brother is Gwynion.”

Chapter 19

“You’re kidding,” said Aurora sharply, immediately.

Emperor shook his head solemnly. “I swear, I’m not. I wish I was, believe me. But I’m not. Oh, and this one is really interesting.” He chuckled. “My parents, Flood and Opaline, mistook me for a girl when I was born. So Father called me Cascade. Honestly. Can you believe it?” He chortled. “So Mother took Gwynion away to Aval. And Father took me away to Eldoris, and we’ve never seen each other until now. When…when you caught me, and I brought you here.”

If the world had turned upside down, now, Aurora was surely floating off the edge and into outer space. “I still can’t believe this!” she burst out. “Mother’s only my mother, she experimented on you, you’re not my brother, you killed her, you’re an saemen, and Gwyn is your brother?!”

“Well,” he said quietly, “You asked for the truth. So I gave it to you.”

“But…why? Why would you cage me?”

“To teach you a lesson. It’s not fair that you got the happy life. You may have been starving and poor, but you had your real mother. It’s also not fair that I got bought off by your mother from a happy life in Eldoris, and Gwynion here lives a happy, sappy life with no interruption. Oh, except for me.” He grinned. “This is what I’m doing. I major in drug smuggling because that’s the only thing you can do around here in the underworld without having to be taught. You just have to be good at negotiation, bartering, and wittiness. I couldn’t stand pretending anymore in the outside world. So I came down here, and started making money. I’m saving up for something…big. Best decision of my life. If the world would suck all the joy from me, I decided I would suck all the joy from the world. And that’s starting with goody-two-shoes like Gwynion who don’t deserve the happy lives they got.”

“But I didn’t choose which family I got born into!” she cried. “It’s not my fault.”

“No,” Emperor replied smoothly. “That was a mistake. I was young and naive and created that stupid tunnel and dried up my magic for nothing. Though knocking out Gwynion was the right decision. I asked him for help. He refused, and turned away all pointing-outs that I’m his brother. The idiot. That’s what a spoiled life makes you. It digs out all the common sense from your brain. I grew up tough, knowing the hard truth. Oh. But one tunnel doesn’t dry up all my magic. The real truth is…I used my magic twice. Once for the tunnel. The second time was recent. I used it so I could possess the ability to go into other people’s minds, read their thoughts. And with some people, for some reason, I can also control their minds.”

Cue the shock attack once again.

“What do you mean, saving up for something big?” pried Aurora, feeling like she didn’t really want to know the truth.

He grunted. “Curious little Aurora. Well, I am going to shatter the Aval Kingdom’s empire at my feet. And I am going to rule. If there are ruling queens, why not ruling kings? It’s time for some change. Queen Blizzard isn’t the person who you think she is. She is greedy, unfiltered, and quick to act in her own decisions. She is a stuck-up narcissistic twit. In fact, she made a deal with me. As long as I provide a heap of drugs that will increase her appearance and stop it with aging alongside her soul, she will be throwing the authorities off my trail. Oh, I do intend to do much damage to her and this kingdom. But she doesn’t care about that. She cares about how she looks, and how she feels, and generally about herself. I laugh a lot at her foolishness. She’s pretty smart actually, but she’s wasted away that lucidity by deeply underestimating…almost everything. Even the damage caused by a spoon. Yeah. She once accidentally stuck a spoon into her eyeball because she didn’t bother to monitor where it was going because she thought it posed no threat.” He chuckled. “So yeah.”

Aurora nearly laughed at the idiocy of this idea. “I think you’ve got it backwards about you and Queen Blizzard. That’s an impossible future! How are you going to overthrow Her Majesty and become King of the Kingdom of Aval? I really don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“The haters will hate,” he replied dismissively. “We’ll see. Go and call my plans idiocy. But we’ll see. You’ll be eating your words out when I become King of Aval and am dancing all over Queen Blizzard’s grave. It’s time for some change around here, and I believe I’m the guy to do it.”

“Sooooo…” Aurora needed a change in topic, and she needed it fast. “What do you plan to do with me?”

“Well,” he said amiably. “I’ve revealed the truth so I don’t have to talk to you about all the stuff about how I’m not evil but carrying out justice. I certainly don’t want you to blab to the authorities about me though, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to stay here. You’ll be allowed to walk around, and that kind of stuff. You just can’t leave. And when I claim the throne of Aval, you’ll be a princess!”

Her stomach dropped. That would be a perfect life, but so utterly not-perfect.

“And Gwyn?” she asked in a small voice.

“Oh, him,” he said dismissively. “He’ll be punished for thwarting my offers. I have to go plot. Bye!” He popped out of the room, into the other small room. She heard him pacing around and muttering low to himself, followed by rushed scribbling on parchment.

Aurora and Arwen stared at each other.

“Yeah. I thought this would happen,” they muttered. They turned to Aurora. “If it makes you feel any better about realizing your brother is an evil crook, I just found out about all this, and I bet I’m even more totally confused about this than you are.”

“Try me,” she giggled. “Okay, Arwen,” she said, turning serious. “What did Cameron have to do with…Emperor?”

They buried their face in their hands. It was a while before they spoke. “Cameron somehow figured out Emperor. I dunno how. But they decided that they would offer themself up in exchange for…for him to not try to claim Aval.” Arwen’s voice broke. “That was how they were, sweet and naive, smart but delusional. Emperor had a twisted plan all along. When Cameron offered themself up on a shiny silver platter, he would nab them, and put up a ransom. But Cameron had been acting all funny, and I noticed them sneaking out, so I followed. They sat down and waited, and then…and then Emperor leapt out and nabbed them. Then somehow he noticed me, and he was all like, ‘Two for the price of one? Why not?’ So he took me, too.”

“Where’s Cameron?” she whispered.

Arwen turned away from her. “Somehow, they figured out a way to escape. But we had a falling-out, just a few hours ago. They accused me of always babying them, following them around and not letting them make their own decisions. That’s how they were. Sharp but impulsive. So they left me behind, because they were mad at me. And here I am.”

Aurora felt so bad for Arwen. “Oh, Arwen,” she whispered.

The next thing she remembered was pure darkness.

Chapter 20

When Aurora woke, there were people swarming the lair, in Royal Aval Guard uniforms. She perked up immediately. Avalan Guards?

There was no sign of Emperor.

She turned to Arwen, who was pressed up against the wall, looking terrified. “What’s happening?” she asked.

They were muttering under their breath, but said, “It seemed like someone tipped off the Avalan Guards about Emperor’s plans…” They tutted. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Well, it looks like they tracked down this lair. But it seems like Emperor’s managed to escape, because he’s not here. How he managed, I’m befuddled. But I think they’re here to rescue us.” At that, two of the guards started picking the lock to their cage. Arwen tutted again. “Come on!” they muttered. “Picking the lock–how come I didn’t think of that? …Well, it’d be of no use anyway. I don’t have anything to pick the lock with…”

The door to the cell swung open, and Aurora eagerly leapt out, pulling Arwen with her.

One of the guards inspected them, and said, “Where do you live? Names, too?”

“Arwen Cristensehre.”

“Aurora Oliyare.”

Arwen gave their house’s address, and Aurora, having nowhere else to go, listed Gwyn and Opaline’s address. They’ll want me, right?

Gwyn will always be waiting for me. Hopefully he’s returned from the palace.

“Out!” another of the guards barked, and they did a quick comb-through of the place to make sure there were no more imprisoned people that were not liberated, and then half of them stayed to search it thoroughly, and the other half escorted Aurora and everyone else out of the lair, bulldozing a path through the stone underground.

They emerged onto the sparkling, frigid snow tundra, the sun glittering healthily.

Just another normal day for the outside world.

Who has no idea what the underground has in store for them.

They marched northward, steadily heading for the tip of Perisidia, and slowly, clusters of towns came into view.

Aurora left Arwen when they reached the town of Where the Gannets Plunge into the Seas. They shuffled solemnly up to her, and hugged her tight. “Thanks,” they murmured. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m going to miss you too. Thanks for keeping me company, if only for a day or two.”

“Miss you too, Arwen,” she said.

And just like that, Arwen was gone.

Finally, they reached the town of Hamlet that Worships the Whales that Sing at Dawn. Nervously, Aurora walked to Gwyn and Opaline’s door…and before she could even knock, the door flew open, and she faced…Gwyn.

A thousand emotions coursed through her at once.

Joy.

Nervousness.

Sadness.

Protectiveness.

Exhaustion.

Relief.

Then, Gwyn just simply held out his arms, and she fell into a bear hug. That was worth more than a million words.

He smiled. “Welcome back, Aurora.”

Epilogue

Three Months Later

So, life was pretty much back to normal.

School had started yet again. And very, very sadly…she had been assigned, once again, to Mrs. Annapurna’s class. She often left the school with the shouting and bellowing ringing in her ears. She didn’t have Emperor to be alongside her, but Gwyn more than filled up his place.

Emperor.

So many things had happened. Painful truths now lay plain for her to see, the sugar-coating dusted off by Emperor. She never would respect his decisions, but she understood why he did them, and she was grateful that he had revealed the hard truth behind all those veils of lies.

Lies.

Not really lies, though. Opaline never did know what happened to her other child. Gwyn never knew that Emperor was his brother. And, well…Mother was the only person who had actually lied to Aurora. Her own mother, soft, tender, caring Mother. But she wasn’t really. She may have been Aurora’s biological mom, but she was just the scientist playing around with the two samples of DNA. It had gotten legally sealed. Opaline was now officially her mother, and she was part of Gwyn and Opaline’s family.

Emperor had been caught eventually, and his plans had never gotten anywhere. They still visited each other, on the opposite side of bars. There was no anger. They just liked to talk to each other. Aurora appreciated his ferocious sense of righteousness, even though he had taken it a few steps too far. He was trying his best, and bad decisions were often made from good intentions.

The Aval Kingdom had finally negotiated peace with the Kingdom of Haremysse, and Princess Gentoo had been returned. Aurora didn’t think that Queen Blizzard was a perfect queen, but she was decent enough for now.

She pulled her knees to her chest, sitting on the couch, watching the stars. Oh, how much she dreamed about a perfect future. A perfect future, with her, Gwyn, Opaline, and maybe even Emperor.

Happy. Complete.

Gwyn walked up. “Aurora,” he said, mock-scolding and raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing out of bed! The consequence shall be…” He paused dramatically, as if racking his brain. “Nothing!”

She giggled. “Gwyn, it’s not even bedtime yet. Also, Mrs. Annapurna dropped a note. Your trigonometry homework was due last Tuesday, and it’s two weeks of detention if you don’t give it by this Wednesday.”

He slapped his forehead. “Oh, come on!” he said. “I must’ve forgotten to hand that one in. What can I say? I take nine subjects every day, each homework piece with different due dates. Things get lost in the shuffle sometimes.”

She rolled her eyes. “Or maybe you just didn’t do it.”

Opaline came up. “Now, now,” she said. “Gwyn, go get out your trigonometry homework due last Tuesday. Be sure to hand it in tomorrow. Ah, Aurora, we’d better brace ourselves for some extra shouting at our expense from Mrs. Annapurna.”

Opaline shooed Gwyn away, following him to the study.

Aurora played with the smile on her lips, and then turned her head to watch out the window.

A million stars, countless, bountiful, beautiful, splotches of bright silver against a dark canvas.

A million stars, each one for a dream.

A million dreams for a bright, happy future.

A million dreams for the world we’re gonna make.

THE END

(or is it....?)