Young Writers Society

Chapter One

The Red Sunrise

There came those in the days of history who reigned under black skies and dark waters, breathed air of great heat and walked upon a ground of ashes.

For such people who ruled were what legends called the ‘Sun Children’ and their name had within itself the power to mobilize armies and force the known world into a state of cowardice before the shadows of such entities.

Their waking eyes burn as the gates to a fiery chasm and forth comes their wrath of an unrelenting fire. Their name refers to the myth that they are descended from the sun and hence hold a shared burning in the heart. Over years of a tortured mind they learnt the skill of shifting their form into that of an infernal entity, to be able to manipulate and tear apart the sky, forming it into a shapeless flame. Their fiery clutches are feared, their nature is not to be questioned, for their wrath is what history told but nothing was said that was the truth.

The original bloodline had split into the Arzurian and Calamhian countries and only on one side did any such child emerge in the ages before. The other line seemed dead.

For the years that came at the beginning of all four passed ages there were a sun child born into the world. When a red dawn came one morning a fifth age became undeniable, a new child was to be born.

With the fifth age on the horizon, in the dawn and dusk, the sun cast a red glow over the lands of the world. The king of Arzuria looked to the sky in hope that this could be the time his country arose, his people looked to the dawn for hope that such repression would be lifted. The sun’s surface seemed to fracture, rays of flames leapt about its surface like dolphins in a vast ocean of fire. The ground began to shake as the entire world was held from under its night time shroud of darkness in a fiery red clutch. This was the feared day, the fifth red dawn, the day a new sun child was born.

A small crooked overhanging house within a long narrow street was host to a magical moment, for through the passing of the red sun a child had been born inside an old, dusty and shabbily furnished house, where the smell of damp filled their lungs and the dust lingered in the air of each breath they took.

A tired mother and her confused husband looked at each other in both worry and happiness over the sight of their newborn daughter.

“You do realise who she is, don’t you Emlyn” said Sharlon. He hung over his newborn daughter wrapped in a cloth in her mother’s arms, his scruffy and blood covered under-armour clothing falling about as he leant over.

He was a respectable and tall man whose black hair went to his neck and his fringe was brushed up either side of his bristly chin. His life had been one of repression until he met his wife, but further darkness soon grew. The country they both lived in was gearing up for a war, but it was an up rise of armaments raised in preparation for the sun child’s downfall. Her life had barely yet begun yet her future was being decided by a tyrant king whose men carried spears and swords and shields and bows. The power of the sun child was one of the most feared forces in history and it was thought that as many men as possible would be needed to see their fate through to its grim end.

Sharlon looked at his new daughter’s hair which consisted of a few amber coloured strands hanging down and laying atop her cheeks. She was a curious child, both of her parents were of dark hair and no one had had such hair for five centuries. But both Emlyn and Sharlon knew this, they knew that their child was the feared one yet her face was of pure innocence and peace.

“She’s beautiful”

“Yes, she is, but what are we to call her?”

Emlyn asked, turning to face her husband with her green eyes.

“I think we should name her for her beautiful mother”

“No, I think it should reflect who she is, being born this day, being the cause of the new age, she is no royal as those who came before were, but she shall walk as one, some day.”

She proudly stroked her sleeping daughter’s cheek.

Sharlon then sat on the bed and cuddled his wife holding their child.

Outside everyone gathered in the streets witnessing the cracking red sun as its ferocity could almost be heard in the ears. Its fiery swirling was getting weaker by the hour and the skies remained red throughout the rest of the day. Then, land by land the world slipped into the void of night and on the other side of dawn it was to awaken in a new age, one which would shape the world in the years to come.

A panic and worry spread about the world in the months which passed. Neither the Arzurian or Calamhian royal families, who had been feuding for over two millennia, had been given this child they had been hoping to obtain in order to strike fear into their enemy for they remained somewhere unknown. They were to grow up not knowing who they are or what they were to have inherited. Any country could rise quicker with the sun child’s help than it would take to rally an army to hunt them down.

“Stay safe, my darling daughter, you will be fine here, no one knows” Sharlon whispered to his sleeping child before hugging Emlyn tightly in the upstairs of the house. She watched sadly as he left the door to be taken by soldiers of silver armour bearing the ‘Cleaves of Arnur’, the insignia of Arzutare. Conscription had taken him into war; a war to end the life of the young sun child which the King had presumed existed in Calamhia.

The armies of Arzutare marched for weeks to Danalavonia, known by some as Midarzu. It was a city on the borders of the two feuding lands and had been abandoned since the end of the third age and so much was in ruin beneath its grand tower on the river that ran through it. Sharlon was sent into the front line of the first Midarzun war.

There he fought alongside the men of Erivania amongst others. The armies of Calamhia from the south refused to say if they had the sun child or not and fought for many long weeks. They held off the only bridge which connected the two countries, but soon the casualties had gotten to great and both armies called an armistice, returning home to their loved ones for a while.

In the time back home Sharlon was told the army was to reinitiate another attack on Midarzu, to fight til the death, and so in the time he had in peace he and his wife, Emlyn, conceived another daughter, the only friend their firstborn would have for sixteen years in the time to come.

The day came when Sharlon was again sent to Midarzu for the second war, having only been with his second daughter for a few months, but this was far worse than the one before and heralded so much death. An all out attack was made once again to make a last surge over the bridge to try and cross the border. It was a bloody war and came to no real victory for either side, the sun child was still lost, but now only one could protect her.

Sharlon had fallen in battle, killed beneath the great palace tower of the second age. It was rumoured to have been his own friend to have killed him, though they are events never spoken of. Sharlon never got to see his two daughters grow up. He was fighting a war to look for his own firstborn when he knew perfectly well she was safe at home within the city of those who sought to send her to an early deathbed. Two years into the fifth age this happened, and still no child was known to anyone apart from those who swore their lives to protect her, and it was to be that way for another fifteen long years.

- The Seventeenth Year of the Fifth Age-

“Em, Ember come on wake up!” shouted a soft voice from across the room. The duvet covered body of a teenage girl laid curled up in bed, her fiery orange hair flared out down her half covered shoulders, her fringe lying upon her freckles, defining her elegant cheek bones on either side of her sleepy face. Slowly she began to wake up, tiredly groaning, revealing her piercing green eyes; she rubbed them with her thin fingered hand before the curtains were slashed open, blasting infernal morning sunlight into the grey walled room.

Many days had the city of Arzutare seen, in the four hundred and seventy second year of its being. It was the capital of Arzuria, the fourth age stronghold of the Arzurian army. Its people had come from all over the land, from the five realms of old. Different cultures, all forced into one uniformity.

Its vast system of overhanging houses were quiet in the same morning. They lay in criss-cross rows with their brown timber and white plastered exteriors and growth covered brown roofs. The streets were bare and dust blew across vacant cobbles in the road, wind whistled across silent meadows outside and through the gates, drifting down the delving passages amidst the labyrinth of houses and tree filled parks.

Three rivers split its entirety, the Arnur, Carnemur and the Delgarur. They tore the civilization into three separate peoples, the western town, the hive of craftsmen, artisans and soldiers. The central island was of royal state, housing the large grey walled three towered castle which sat upon a domed rock with crooked walls embedded within and a central courtyard at the peak. Until fifteen years ago housed the banners of the Arzun royal state until the King was overthrown by his own army. The eastern town consisted of the majority of the population, much of it in poverty and disarray, but some managed to thrive a living from market trading which took place down a long road joined to the parade plaza on the river banks.

With the early morning came the arrival of merchant ships, passing into the city via the main river wherein they navigated around the foregrounds of the castle. The sails of the ships fluttered in the morning breeze, gently washing aside the waters of the rivers, not provoking the city in slumber. Unto the open expanses of green and orange fields outside each island they would pass, which were glittered in dew. The lush green trees rose as high as the sooty brown chimney tops, all shadowed by the castle, which cast fear over the lands before its towers.

The amber haired girl came timidly and slowly down the dark wood creaking stairs that morning, the old house was dimly lit in the morning sun, and slits of light stretched through the chipped front door, dust floated about in the beams, adding an ancient look to already torn and faded wallpaper. The smell of old wood filled every room as the timbers in the roof drooped slightly in their length across the rooms. A few cobwebs hung on the ceiling and around the rusty wall mounted candle holders, a slight cold breeze went through the house, causing the girl to shiver.

Ember’s hair was now in a pony tail, held up by a ring of diamond shaped plates locked over the tops of each other, the top of her ponytail was spiking outwards rather messily at the top before falling softly down her back, she wore a dark crimson sleeved dress with Umrian style swirls sewn into it, parting at the front revealing the under layer which moved swiftly just above the creaking floor boards.

“Mother? Mother why did you call me?” she cried.

She had almost reached the end of the entrance hall when her sister swung out of the doorway before her; she had obviously heard the footsteps and hurried out to greet her.

“Ember, you’re finally up!” she shouted with a cheeky smile spreading across her equally freckled face, her hair was long and black with the slightest streaks of brown showing which was always a mystery to her parents. She had the same green eyes as Ember and held a close resemblance to her mother; she was wearing black clothing similar to her sisters, only it had material on the arms.

Before Ember had a chance to answer their mother hurriedly but gently nudged the dark haired girl out the doorway, she swept her hair back behind her ears and spoke with dignified elegance.

“Come on you two, up the stairs quick as you like, that ‘being’ from the army will be at our doorstep soon! We don’t want him to stumble across Ember”

Ember stared worriedly at her mother,

“The…army? Why are they coming here!?”

”Oh, no it’s nothing to worry about; it’s just a man coming to threaten us again.” Emlyn said comfortingly.

Sharla stood fiddling with a small gold bracelet in her hand, letting it trickle down her palm and into her other hand.

“Em, take Shar upstairs, keep her out of trouble and put that away!”

Sharla saw her mother’s slightly sarcastic smile and rolled her eyes. She took her big sister’s hand forcefully and pulled at it whilst walking, making her sister unexpectedly fling around with it.

“You haven’t been stealing from the market again have you Shar?” Ember asked, gazing at the object in her sister’s free hand.

“Em, would I do a thing like that?”

“No Shar, we get by living off all the gold we so obviously have.”

Ember ran her fingers along torn areas of wallpaper going up the stairs, exposing old cob webbed bricks behind. Once they had reached the narrow landing Ember turned to face her sister to speak.

“Shar, I think we have enough of your stolen items to last us a life time.”

“And I’ll keep going…”. Sharla walked passed her sister and into the bedroom doorway.

“This city is going to ruins, no one cares what anyone does anymore… especially the festering soldiers apparently keeping guard in the market.” She added.

The bedroom consisted of four grey walls, which surrounded the sisters, the white plastered ceiling showed strain in the centre where a wooden beam was coming through, causing the ceiling to crack ever so slightly either side. Two beds were at either ends of the room covered with worn plain white duvets; one against the wall facing the door, the other was a little further along nearer to a window with rotting frames. The room had the slightest scent of burning wax concealed within; it had become faint with the air entering through gaps in the rotting window frames.

The sisters closed the door just as there was a knock at the one at the front of the old house. The girls both looked at each other conspicuously as they heard their mother greet the visitor,

“Morning officer, what is it today, money, my child, oh, how about money again?” she muttered sarcastically, leaning against the door frame.

Sharla sat down on Ember’s bed near the window whilst Ember went to the window itself and leant over a cushioned stool and looked out, to try to get a view of the visitor, all she could see was the shiny shoulder plate of their suit of armour. She saw a shadow pass over the ground and looked up to see a small black feathered bird gliding by; she lost trace of it when something bigger caught her attention.

Her gaze was hence stolen by the sun, hanging menacingly in the sky. Its orange entity drifted across her black pupils, the smile from her face went and she was stood there, fixated in a trance, the sun’s surface seemed so close and clear to her, infuriating infernal hurricanes of fire pounding its ancient scarred surface.

All sound around her was muffled, the morning bird songs were mere bleeps of dullness to her ears, and then a voice started to talk.

“Em… Em!” it got clearer and clearer until she felt her sister shaking her arm.

“Ember?”

Sharla called her repeatedly, eventually she broke out of her mindless ways and went and sat down on the bed next to her sister, staying silent, trying to eavesdrop in on the conversation below, Ember’s bed was tidy and made up, unlike Sharla’s which was all a mess, her duvet hanging half off.

Emlyn kept a straight face whilst talking to the visitor, he had the insignia of Arzutare painted onto his shoulder plates, and there were silver buckles on the sides of his arms where more heavy armour would usually be fixed. The man was old with a short grey beard and dark blue eyes, dull and resenting eyes to which Emlyn stared at with secret fury.

“Now for the main question of which my visit is based… how many people reside within this house, and don’t be difficult on this woman, you’ve given me enough grief as it is in this morning in this toiling armour?” he said, clearing his throat loudly making Emlyn smirk a little. She took a painful sigh before replying,

“Fine then, two live here, myself…and my daughter, Sharla”

“That should be all the questions for now. It has come to the army’s attention that the market thief is still at large, if you hear anything you must say…"

“I really don’t understand why I have to hide away when ever anyone visits, it’s like I’m not even supposed to be here!” said Ember sadly. She stood up and looked around the room with a mind full of thought, as she turned around the sun shone in her face once again, but she was careful not to keep staring and instead looked about the place of her lifetime confinement.

“I’ve been in this house all my life, not able to see the world outside, sometimes I just feel like running away!”

“I wish you were allowed out Em, I’d send all those who insulted me at the academy unto you, I could never put them in their place like you could” Sharla replied, smiling at her sister, she pulled Ember’s hand and got her to sit next to her again and rested her head on her big sister’s shoulder.

“Thanks?” Ember laughed unsurely.

“Though Shar, you’re not as frail as you look, there’s strength and courage and wisdom in you” she added.

“I take after you then”

Both girls heard their mother raise her voice at the visitor at the door and quickly looked at the bedroom door, then back at each other.

“They’ve been here a long time, what do you think they’re talking about…probably about thieves in the market place again?” Ember said, turning sarcastically to face her sister.

“Hey, I’ve not taken anything much recently Em”

“Makes a change”

“Oh be quiet, you may be older than me Em but um…” Sharla slowly reached her hand out to her side, moving along the bed,

Ember sighed sarcastically,

“What?”

Sharla suddenly tried to fling a pillow into her sister’s face, but Ember quickly swung her arm up to block the soft ambush, causing the pillow to fly from her hand and went straight into her bedside drawers, then falling off onto the floor, bringing one of the shelves down with it which contained a round black box. The box made a huge thud as it hit the floor causing both sisters looked at each other worriedly.

“What was that?” the soldier asked, he began to put his foot in the doorway and tried to enter or at least see what had caused the bang. In a moment of panic Emlyn pushed the man back out of her house and held the door tightly and half closed.

“I’m not letting your kind anywhere near my daughter!” she said viciously

Sharla stared at the box, it was about the size of a dinner plate, it had gold hinges and a gold latch with elegant gilded patterns twirling on the sides, on the lid it contained the picture of a glorified sun, with gold patterns swirling in and out of its pointed rays. Sharla bent down to pick it up only for Ember to quickly snap her hand closed on her sister’s wrist.

“Shar let me.” She requested, picking it up and placing it back on the lower shelf of the draw, hiding the broken one under her bed.

The front door slammed shut, making the sisters jump.

“It’s okay girls, they’re gone!” their mother shouted. Sharla stood up first, she heard her mother hurry out of the lounge again and into the hallway,

“Wonderful, after that I’m only going to get Miss Lilion asking what that was about…daft old woman…just stay where you are girls” she continued to rant.

The sound of the front door knocking happened and Emlyn went to open it.

“Oh well, I never knew this was coming…Mrs Lilion, how can I help you today?” she asked again with a hint of condescension and patronisation in her voice. The old woman stood at the door, her wrinkled face cringed with a smile, clearer with her white hair tied back down her brown dress.

“What was that about dear? Anything I should know? I daren’t say the army is on another exploit to seek out they who have not appeared!” she cackled.

“No Miss Lilion, nothing special, just the usual nonsense, local crime updates, consensus, awkward small talk about the weather, anything else you want to know?”

Seeming disappointed and uninterested, the old woman grunted and waddled away back to her own house next door.

“Oh I do despise that nosey old ‘thing’, why can’t the army threaten to conscript her!? There’d be no need for weapons with old Lilion, her voice could kill an enemy quick enough”

Emlyn walked upstairs and into the doorway of the sister’s bedroom to find Sharla resting upon Ember’s shoulder, hanging the necklace from her fingers in the dusty daylight. The proud mother smiled before walking back out and going about her business.

Nothing happened for the rest of the day as darkness crept about the streets beyond the old windows. Ember was used to if after seventeen years of the same routine. The night came and both sisters were sat in bed as the dark skies hung overhead.

Sharla’s bed was still all messed up, her duvet creased and lay about in an unrecognisable shape, whilst Ember’s was still neat as she lay relaxed beneath it, a candle by her bedside, she stared at it mercilessly for a minute or two, it seemed to flicker more and more every night she did this. She gave up wondering why and pulled out the black box from her drawers by her bed, unlocked its gold hinges and opened it slowly, the metalwork barely producing a creak. A gold shine lit up Ember’s face, casting yellow strips across her cheeks, eyes and fringe. Twelve years Ember had owned this box, and only once had she opened it and felt the cold touch of that which lay inside. A crown was cushioned inside the box, rather ancient looking with swirls emanating the band that fit around the forehead where stood five points, the tallest in the centre below which was a round blue sapphire that contained a faint spiral inside and within that were words in an ancient language. Beneath the object itself was an equally regal chain hung from side to side to fall down the back of the wearer’s head, the bands which ran along the ears contained a form of ancient forgotten language and Ember stared at it puzzled.

Sharla looked across to her sister and saw what she was doing, and then she twisted around and her hair was half brushed down her tired looking eyes.

“Em what is that? It would seem from your reaction earlier that it is dangerous.” She said sleepily.

Ember just stared at the object in silence; Sharla swung her legs out of her duvet and touched them on the floor.

“Can...can I have a look?” she asked.

Ember looked at her eventually and nodded

“Ok, but just don’t touch it Sharla”. She saw the reflection of her sister walk up to her side in the crowns shine, she sat on the edge of the bed, sitting almost shoulder to shoulder.

“Where did you get that? It’s not something I smuggled behind these doors?” she asked.

“I was given it on my fifth birthday, I haven’t looked at it since that night and I’m not afraid to tell you why”

“Ok, so what happened?” Sharla enquired.

Ember took a long breath before eventually replying,

“On the night I first touched this, something happened…and I still don’t know what it was, it felt like a shock of a kind, it sent a shiver all over myself and I felt an immense burning pain go all through me, I suddenly felt more alert than usual. I am afraid to touch it because I’ve never felt pain like it before or since...so that’s why I don’t want you to touch it, because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Sharla hung on her every word under the candle lit atmosphere.

“It’s not hurting you now? What’s so dangerous? Why shouldn’t I touch it?”

she responded in a more serious tone.

“I still don’t want to risk it Shar, you’re my sister, I can’t bear to see you in that sort of pain, I’d never forgive myself if you went through…that”

Before she could think Sharla was pressing the ends of her fingers into the crowns cold gold surface.

“Look…nothing…” she said triumphantly yet boldly, retracting her fingers and long thin arm she walked back to her own bed, pulled up the duvet and sat in bed, she turned away and rubbed the tips of her fingers, she had felt something, strange and powerful, but no pain. She didn’t want to worry Ember and so tried to get to sleep.

Ember was still staring mindlessly at the crown, her eyes not moving from it, her grip on it tightened and deep down a small burning feeling made its unfriendly return, making her cringe in the slightest. The crowns presence made Ember not even notice, her eyes were wide and her face was still. Sharla witnessed the candle begin to flicker more and more, not able to fall asleep. The longer that Ember stared at the flame the more manic its movement became

“Em, what ever that thing is, stop staring at it, something’s happening!” Sharla cried shakily.

Her sister suddenly lost fixation with the gold object and looked at Sharla with a confused and shocked look.

“Ok, ok I’ll stop…I don’t know what happened, this thing isn’t normal”

Ember put the crown away and blew out the candle, eventually drifting into the realm of her mind as it lay dormant in her sleep, so came the first of many dreams to trouble the girl for years to come.

*********

Silence, pure silence, and no view of anything in the near.

No sound was heard, no wind, no birds, no people, just the faint heartbeat of a rage filled Princess who swept through the dwelling beneath the regal complex of a palace. The sun of the third age beat down upon the above world and it lay in peaceful clouds above a peaceful nation.

The Princess’ heartbeat became faster and faster, louder and louder. From her heavy gold plated boots ran a hooded cloak of black and gold upto her long amber hair which swayed as she ran, down a corridor lined with red and gold tapestries sporting the insignia of the Nyshuhrian Kingdom and floor tiles filled the space between many alcoves, some lit by candles which seemed to follow the entity as she passed. She wore a five pointed crown upon her head and it shook as she ran. Her skin was pale and flawless with mild yet bright blue eyes and a slightly pointed chin which received reflections from fire lit jewels around her neck. It was quickly clear from what she wore that whoever she was of great importance. Her speed was unusual as her footsteps echoed when she came forth, the floor passed away beneath her and alcove after alcove flew by in the shadows until she came to two great golden doors at the end of the corridor, ornate and of a spiralled pattern.

“I can do this, I need to speak out some time, and that time is now!” she whispered to herself before persisting to apply force on the doors. She pushed them open with a heave and came out into the bright sunlight where a few petals blew across her path; the doors slammed shut behind her. Either side of her now stood a tan wall and between them were steps which led up to a courtyard bordered with trees and the great sound of rushing water filled the air. She ran up and onto a brown path which went straight on into a round plaza, there were grass lawns either side which were filled with people in formal clothing, beyond them were three people under a form of shrine with a spire that went high into the air.

Guards of metallic red armour stood around, silver swirls crested upon the plating and hair mains plumed from the tops of their helmets. Great shoulder plates and skirt plates were attached to the chest plates which below three strips of metal were fastened together. The soldiers held spears in their defence, but they were stood about on their duties and they sensed no threat as the girl came about.

She walked between the crowds, shocking the people by her unexpected presence. Her steps were firm and were walked with dignity and authority, through they took her unto the shrine shadowed plaza and before those who dwelled there. A king and a Queen of dark hair and red robes sat upon thrones nestled within the shrine, they sat in old stone chairs with gold trim and a spiralling column at each corner.

There sat King Safron, the most recent in an unbroken bloodline of kings, grand and powerful. He was loved by his people for through his seeming ruthlessness he showed compassion and was generous to his people. He led his armies to victory at the first Inarian battle in the latermost years of the second age before the red sun came. He had reshaped the armies since his father’s death twenty one years before and with them he had pacified all who tried to disrupt peace in Nyshuhr. Safron had made the lands green once more when evil had vanquished in the way of King Enorin of Inar being defeated in a long war tween the two monarchs. Since the sun child was born he had lessened his work to install beauty into his country and no one blamed him for he was to bring up his sun child daughter and teach her the right path in life and not to follow what King Rhandyr had done to the country nearly five centuries ago.

He was known for his kindness and his smile and love of his family and he often displayed affection for his Queen in public, yet no one could really understand his feelings towards his daughter who he had never shown compassion for in the open and the only time he had shown deep care for her in private was when he trained her successfully to defeat him in with a sword. In time she had grown stronger than the King and he despised what abilities she had for they corrupted the mind. He wanted to teach her that not everyone will love what she is and she should not endorse what she has, yet regardless the Princess of fire had begun exploring her abilities long ago and Safron feared what she would become.

“You kneel before your king as a man willing to protect his country until death takes him and so with this sword of old, I present to thee a binding of service to your nation, to do as it wills and to keep the forces of evil behind our mountain walls for as long as you can stand to overlook them…”

The King repented and stood up at the sight of the angered looking girl approaching, he overshadowed the young man knelt before him in a suit of red and silver armour with the ruler’s sword placed over his shoulder.

“Sapphire? What do you want? Can you not see that we are in the middle of something my child?” said the King, dropping the sword from the knight’s shoulder.

The girl walked further forward as the kneeling man looked to his side at her,

“So it’s true? You’re knighting my brother into a life of war!” she shouted. The crowd started whispering between themselves, if it had been a normal person to have said this it would have been treason.

“Your brother, Prince Fehrnire, is joining the army on his own account; he wants to honour our family’s proud tradition, carrying on the bloodline of strong kings.” The king snapped back. His wife, the Queen who was Sapphire and Fehrnire’s mother looked on in sympathy to her scolded daughter.

“So our heritage is all about enemy blood and self pride?! Neither compassion nor aid for those lesser in strength?”

The king frowned even more and walked forward, bowing down and staring his daughter in the eyes and whispered in her ear,

“You dare speak to me like that, I may be your father, but in public you will address me as your king! Don’t forget who you’re speaking to!”

Sapphire felt the sun dappling through the trees around the courtyard, casting warm patches on the normally cold stone floor, it crept onto her face, suddenly the king repented, his expression looking more shocked than angry. His daughters eyes were now no longer blue, but a fiery shade of orange with her black pupils still in the centre, like a helpless planet being engulfed by the sun, her hair blew slightly in a mild breeze, unresting as she was.

“Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, I am your daughter, but I too follow one of our family’s traditions, one of a different sort of power, not one I’m proud of, but by divine right I am of higher authority than you! And you hate it!” She snarled back.

The Prince stood up and looked at his little sister staring evilly at her father.

“Sapphire, what do you mean? What is this power you speak of?” he asked,

Sapphire looked at him as her eyes returned to normal, leaving her shaken by her unexpected rage. She knew not what to say, for her brother was slightly naive on the lore of the Nyshuhr people. The Queen stood forwards and rested her hand upon the Prince’s shoulder.

“My son, your sister is the…sun child”

She gave a sympathetic smile at her daughter, but not being able to believe her own words.

Fehrnire’s expression turned even more toiled as he looked helplessly between everyone and at the crowds staring nervously at him, everyone seemed to know what was happening but himself.

“What is the…sun child?”

The king grabbed his daughter’s wrist and spoke to her,

“Go. Now!”

The angered Princess pulled away and headed back down the long path in a temper, her brother watched her storm off with sadness in his heart, long had he seen his sister disheartened by their parents, but as much as he wished to help her, he did not wish to disappoint his father.

There was a bright scene above Sapphire’s path as the sun reflected off of the brick work of the three tiered palace overlooking the courtyard, and at the very top fluttered the flag of Nyshuhria which rippled in the wind that lingered about the summer’s air.

Sapphire passed back through into the darker corridor beneath the palace complex and the doors at the base of the stairs slammed shut with a loud bang.

*********

The sound seemed to echo through Ember’s mind and caused her to wake and a sweat dripped down her forehead, she sat in bed with her hair down again, and looking around the bedroom hopelessly to make sense of what was real. Sharla was still sleeping soundly, breathing silently in an awkward position in her messy bed.

She smiled to herself to see her little sister was safe, and then lay back in bed, trying to unravel what the that dream was about, so many questions, who was…Sapphire? And indeed what is a sun child? She dared to think and she tried to sleep again.

The morning had arrived once more and the ceiling was suddenly lit by a streak of orange light, the sun’s majesty had replaced the moons glow, and Sharla went to the window and opened the curtains, blasting sunlight into her sister’s face. Ember cowered behind her arm; she had suddenly felt more sensitive to the sun.

Sharla turned around as her sister gasped and beside her the extinguished candle suddenly sparked into flame once more, it flickered in Ember’s direction, menacingly pointing at her as if to bow to her.

“What’s going on?!” Ember whispered, beginning to tremble with nerves, staring darkly at the possessed flame.

“I don’t know what you mean Em, nothings wrong.” Sharla replied, sitting closer on the bed to her sister, she tried to ignore the candle and what ever happened before, slowly she felt Ember’s mind breaking, and something was happening.

“Shar, something’s happening to me, I can feel it! And I just can’t make it stop!”

Later, whilst Sharla was out on the streets again Ember lay on her own bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, trying to figure out the riddles of her own mind. That dream felt too real to be seen as mere figment of her imagination. She could not explain what had come to pass, what only she could know, and only after she touched the crown had something happened. Done with the unsolvable vision she got up and walked to the window to look down on a quiet street. The scene seemed so tranquil, the peaceful sky, the crooked chimneys on the skyline were slipping into the void of evening, the same black feathered bird as came before swooped elegantly between them, its plumage rippling in the breeze passing around its gliding wings.

The door downstairs unlatched and then closed again and Ember heard her sister talking to her mother in the lounge.

Upon regaining concentration Ember looked out the window again only to almost be taken into a rift of scare. Something came with her accidental glare at the sun and went deep within her. A pain unlike any she had experienced before, it tore her soul apart and she tried to scream but no voice came, her mind was deep and strung with a constant ringing and the whole time the image of fire crackled in her inescapable thoughts.

Ember quickly grovelled away in shock and pain, close to collapsing, going downstairs to sit with her sister, needing comfort from the sister she trusted with the burdens of her troubled mind.