Chapter One
Lochian Year 237
“Ow!”
The needle pierced her flesh and blood beaded from the wound, vivid scarlet that threatened to stain the white shirt she held in her hands.
“Careful, my love,” her mother chastises her but there is no bite to her words, just a knowing smile. Eleven year old Amelise frowned as she was handed a small strip of cloth to bandage her finger.
She hated sewing.
“May I go now?” she asked in a whinging voice as she, with a freshly-bandaged finger, held the offending needle and tattered shirt in her hand. Her mother, the picture of never-ending patience in the face of her restless daughter, motioned towards the shirt Amelise is holding.
“Once you finish that, you may.”
The scent of the ocean hit them from the cracked windows of their shabby single-room home, but the rotting smell of fish accompanied it. Amelise sighed dramatically, looking out the window in a spot not obstructed by the spiderwebbed cracks. People were passing by, the tops of their heads bobbing along the cobblestone streets. There was a line of fishmongers selling their wares and a young boy stood at the end of the block, shouting loudly and waving a flier in the air.
“Treaty signed!” the boy shouted, passing one out to whomever reached their hand towards him. “Read all about it! The treaty of Lochia and Tir Ardaithe signed! Princess Igraine betrothed to the Fae King!”
“Dreadful news.” Amelise’s mother sighed, motioning for Amelise to continue her sewing. “The princess is only eight. How mad a father must be to betroth his eight-year old daughter to a man hundreds of years old.” She shook her head with disdain as Amelise carefully avoided pricking her finger once again.
“Mother, what does ‘betroth’ mean?”
“It means you will marry in the future.” Her mother smiled teasingly at her, “Like the way you want to marry Esten.”
Amelise’s cheeks bloomed poinsettia red and she pricked her finger again. The blood that beaded from her finger is the same colour as her cheeks. “Mother!” The peal of her mother’s laughter felt to Amelise like a siren, enticing all within earshot and threatening exposure of her most well-guarded secret; that of her girlish heart.
“I’m done!” Amelise blurted out to distract her mother from her giggles, practically throwing the mended shirt at her. “I’m going to meet Esten and Rolant!”
“Hold it young lady!”
Amelise halted midstep and groaned, turning back to face her mother who was already forming her next words. “Don’t-”
“Stay out too late, I know,” Amelise cut in. Her mother raised a stern brow at her cheeky smirk.
“It’s dangerous at night.” It was the face of a mother’s worry she had as she gazed at her sprightly young daughter. “A lot of people have been going missing.”
“I’ll be fine!” Amelise promised, her smile bright and filled with all the invincibility of youth. Her mother sighed.
“At least have Esten and Rolant walk you back,” she said, only to prompt Amelise to make an annoyed face. She was eleven! She has known the way home from anywhere in the city since she was five! Well, that may be an exaggeration; but Amelise protested anyways.
“Mother, I can walk myself home.” Her mother shook her head.
“Either you ask them or I give you another shirt to mend. What’ll it be?”
The sigh that left her mouth could have won a trophy for the most dramatic exhalation of breath in all of Lochia. Amelise begrudgingly agreed to her mother’s terms before turning to leave again.
“Oh Amelise!”
Amelise spins, completing a full circle and ending up right back where she started; exasperatedly looking at her mother with the selfsame raised eyebrow. “Yes?” Her mother looked to be giggling by the way her crow’s feet crinkle around her eyes.
“Take some bread and cheese to your father? He forgot them this morn.”
Amelise dutifully took the small basket of bread and cheese as she was finally, finally free to leave behind a room of ripped shirts and embroidery needles. Winter’s chill was already on them despite the leaves scarcely turning amber yellow. Amelise wasn’t wearing many layers but her run through the cobblestone city streets warmed her up. She passed the boy still hollering at the end of the block and wove through the crowd that slowed for his fliers.
It was still morning in Ardalion, the capital city of Lochia. Amelise and her mother had not been awake long, but her father had been up long before the sunrise. His work as a longshoreman had him awake before even the birds, beginning each day at the heart of Ardalion’s biggest port. The story was that he used to be a sailor until he met her mother on one of his voyages and they fell madly in love. Loathe as he was to leave the sea, he worked as close to the waters as he could get without being in them.
Amelise found him taking a break on the pier, sitting on some boxes and chatting amicably with his co-workers. One of them nudges him, to let him know he had a visitor.
“Mellie!” To her consternation, her father greeted her by ruffling her hair. “What are you doing here?”
“You forgot this,” she said monotonically, handing him the basket. He took them from her while she fixed her hair.
“Oh perfect, I was getting a bit peckish.” Her father took a caveman-like bite of the bread. “Off to school? Bit early, though.” Amelise stole a small bit of his cheese to nibble on.
“I’m meeting Esten and Rolant first,” she told him, prompting a dark expression to wash over his face.
“Ah,” he muttered, “I see. Those two boys from your class, eh? What were their names again?” Amelise rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to repeat their names, but one of the other longshoremen shouted at them. A new ship had pulled up to the dock that needed unloading. Her father stuffed some cheese into his mouth and clapped her shoulder. “Got to be off. Don’t stay out late!” He was gone before Amelise could reply.
The piers were puddled with ocean water and Amelise splashed through them as she made her way back to shore. With her errand done, she was finally able to make her way into the city to meet with her best friends. It was a bit earlier than when they usually met up and Amelise was already late because of her errand. She hurried, turning a sharp corner into a dark alleyway leading to an abandoned house. In the overgrown backyard among the petunia flowers and pigweeds were her friends, two boys bickering amidst the singing cicadas.
“Hi Mellie!”
Esten was the first to greet her, his blonde hair shining in the sun; he was thirteen. The black-haired boy next to Esten eyed her with annoyance. That was Rolant, also thirteen. “You’re late,” Rolant said.
Unlike Amelise, who had parents to return to every night, Esten and Rolant were orphans. She didn’t know how either of them came to the orphanage, only that there had been a new program started to educate the children orphaned by the war. They were given free schooling and attended Ms. Otheberry’s class, which Amelise also attended, though her parents had to pay for it.
“I had to help mother with some chores,” Amelise answered, huffing a little from her run. Her cheeks were flushed from both the jog and the chilly autumn air. “So, why did you call us here?”
Her question was directed at Esten, who was already beaming. “I found something cool!” he said, motioning for the both of them to follow him. He ran into the old, abandoned house that they had played in plenty of times before.
Amelise looked to Rolant, who just shrugged helplessly, silently telling her that they should indulge their friend for now. They followed the bobbing head of blonde into a dilapidated building that was probably haunted.
Cobwebs were everywhere; dust clung to the floors and walls like a thick layer of jam on bread. Esten was in the bedroom, hollering for his friends to hurry up.
“Check it out!” he exclaimed when they finally entered the room. He had so much energy that it tired Amelise out to watch him. Rolant just seemed bored, not really sure why his friend was gesticulating at a boring brick wall. That is, until he shimmied a brick out of said wall to reveal a secret hiding place. Esten reached inside and took out a box, about the size of those fancy books that wealthy people and the church priests read. He placed it on the ground.
“What’s inside?” Amelise asked excitedly, all of them sitting on the floor in a circle around the box.
“Only one way to find out,” Rolant said. He reached for the latch but Esten stopped him.
“I’m the one who found it, I’ll open it!” he exclaimed, unlatching the box without waiting for Rolant’s response. It didn’t have much inside of it, only three things in total. Esten was so excited by one of those items that he grabbed it before anyone else could even see what it was. His face morphed into awe.
“Careful Esten!” Amelise scolded him, leaning away as he brandished an ornate dagger.
“This is amazing,” he said, turning the dagger over in his hand to inspect it closer. Amelise was still nervous, watching Esten’s movements carefully as Rolant poked his head over the box to check what else there was, unfazed by the dagger.
“A ring?” he mumbled, picking up a huge ring that looked to be some kind of heirloom. There were etchings on the band that didn’t look like any design Amelise had ever seen, and a large black gemstone was seated in the center, some kind of symbol carved into it. Rolant put it on his thumb but it was still far too big for him, easily falling off his finger.
Amelise picked up the last thing left in the box. It was an old piece of parchment scribbled with odd symbols. There were lots of black dots everywhere, some with lines extending out of them, others hollow in the centre. Amelise peered curiously at the symbols, trying to see if she could recognise one, but it certainly did not look like any of the letters Ms. Otheberry was teaching them.
“I’m keeping this one!” Esten said loudly, starting to swing his newly found dagger in the dusty air, invisible enemies attacking him left and right. Amelise yelled at him.
“Be careful! You’re going to hurt someone doing that!” Esten was not listening though, still swinging his new toy in the air and beginning to make fighting noises, as if his invisible enemies had materialised. Amelise sighed and looked over at Rolant to try and get someone else to talk sense into Esten, but Rolant was staring off into space, his green eyes wider than she’d ever seen them. “Rolant?”
He flinched, as if someone had slapped him. “What?” Amelise frowned in concern.
“Are you okay? What happened?” He blinked owlishly up at her, still half in his head. It took a few more moments for him to realise what she’d asked him, and he cleared his throat nervously.
“I was thinking,” he said, tucking his hand with the ring behind his back. Amelise would have pressed him if he hadn’t turned to Esten after. “Oi! You look like a dancing jester, stop it.”
Esten thankfully stopped waving the dagger around to glare at Rolant. “I’ll look like a real knight one day, just wait,” he said. “I’m going to practice with this dagger every day.”
“Is it alright to take these things? They were hidden for a reason, weren’t they?” Amelise asked, worriedly looking at the place where they were hidden.
“No one’s come back here in years,” Esten said. “It should be okay, right?” He turned to Rolant, who looked quite contemplative. His mood was also more somber than earlier, taking quite a long pause before answering.
“I think this stuff is well and truly abandoned,” he said, and something like sadness tinged his words. “The old owners probably won’t care if you take it.” Esten was quite happy that his friend sided with him, though Amelise was still hesitant. Still, it was two against one and Esten looked quite happy to keep his new dagger, so she didn’t protest.
The three of them stashed their new finds in their pockets and left the abandoned house, Esten and Amelise running but Rolant walking at a subdued pace. Amelise noticed and motioned for Esten to slow down.
“You’re real quiet today Ro’,” Esten said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Rolant seemed embarrassed, a little like that time the madame of the orphanage had caught him red-handed putting geckos under someone’s pillow.
“I’m not a parrot,” he said a little loudly, blushing. “I’ll race you both to Ms. Otheberry’s!”
The three took off down the streets, Amelise the slowest while Rolant and Esten battled for first place. The two of them were often competing in silly contests like this and getting mad at the other for alleged cheating. Amelise was always dead last, and usually panting for breath while the two of them argued with each other at the finish line.
“Now boys,” Ms. Otheberry said, coming out of the school with a grin on her cheeks, “what’s all the fuss?”
“I won!” the two of them exclaimed fiercely at Ms. Otheberry, who laughed.
“Come in then, boys, and we can figure out who really won with a bit of friendly debate, yes?” She herded the two arguing boys into the school before turning and smiling gently at Amelise. “Hello, Amelise.” Amelise gave her a toothy smile back.
“Hi Ms. Otheberry!” Amelise remembered what she’d stashed in her skirt pocket. “I have a question.”
“Oh?” Ms. Otheberry waited patiently as Amelise shuffled around for the curious piece of paper, presenting it to her teacher. “Hmm…” The teacher peered at the worn pages. “Oh, it’s a music sheet.”
“Music? This paper plays music?!” Amelise was so excited it felt like her heart would thrum out of her chest. Ms. Otheberry laughed and shook her head.
“No, no, it can’t play music, Amelise. But a musician can read it and follow its notes to create music.” The older woman eyed the sparkle in Amelise’s eyes and knew that it was unbridled curiosity. “Would you like to learn to read it?”
Amelise gasped in excitement. “Really? You’ll teach me?” She was practically bouncing off the walls at the idea of being able to make music! “But…” Her heart sank as she realised something. “I don’t have an instrument.”
“You do, Amelise.” The smile on Ms. Otheberry’s face was playful as she tapped her throat with her finger. “It’s right here.”
