Chapter One- The Cottage In The Meadows

Chapter One

"The Cottage In The Meadows"

"You'll catch flies like that."

A smile crept on my face as I tilted my head towards the crisp deep voice that lingered in my ears. My jaw clenched as I couldn't hide the smile that the familiar voice gave me, "get lost, Lance."

Sighing, he tucked his hands into his pockets as he nudged my side to move over before placing himself beside me on the school bench. The splintered wood creaked under his weight, "you know I'm right, Ann."

Curiosity etched into my mind as I squinted at my friend. His broadness never ceases to amaze me, and maybe that's what made Lance enchanting. His olive eyes seem to burn through my side as I feel his stare. After all, we've been best friends since grade school and grew up together in the orphanage. Lance was there for every moment, and I can't remember a time he wasn't attached to me or my brother. The two were thick as thieves and inseparable friends for as long as I could remember. If anyone knew me the best, it was my brother and Lance.

My voice cracks under the pressure of his gaze, "since when do you care who I take interest in."

His laughter pierced the air as he crossed his arms over his head leaning his silhouette against the beige wall, "Who said anything about that?"

I could feel my cheeks grow hot as I tried to hide my reaction. It doesn't matter how careful I am to not give a reaction. Lance can read me like a tethered book. A classic tale wrapped in divine scrawny pages that paint the same story. I cringe at myself at the thought of being a classic trope. The younger sister who's been infatuated with her brother's best friend for years, but I don't think I could ever admit to my feelings. I chew the inside of my cheek as I avoid Lance's stare as he straightens himself bringing his face inches away from mine. He gave a toothy grin as he opens his mouth to instigate further-

"Just get a room already."

Relief crashed over me as a familiar voice lingered near. I never thought I'd feel relieved to hear my brother's voice as Lance's attention snaps to his left watching a lean figure step out of the shadows from the school hallway.

The heat on my cheeks falls as Lance lets out a hollow laugh, "What would you know? Why don't you ask Noelle Nieves if she'll hold your hand,"

I can feel my heart stammer in my ears slow as my brother and I meet each other's gaze. I almost couldn't manage to hear his mutter as he pressed for me to move over. His shaggy brown curls swept over his almond eyes as he tossed his frail bag onto the bench before sitting on the other end of the bench. Clumps of acrylic paint and oil drip from the tips of his fringe as my brother runs his scattered hands through his strands, "Noelle is a friend. Unlike you, I don't have to get with every girl I see."

I don't know if my brother thought that his words would get to his friend, but Lance seemed unbothered.

"Well Vlad, it's about time you showed up," Lance said while closing his eyes, "thought you might've gotten to second base this time."

Crimson spreads over my brother's cheeks as he gaped at his friend, leaning over me with a balled fist to strike Lance's shoulder. A small laugh escapes my lips as my brother's embarrassment spreads like wildfire over his thin features. Compared to Lance, Vlad would be considered a twig in the wind.

"But that reminds me, you have to get to first base before the second. And it's been like what- a month? And you're still painting circles? Just face it, man, you'll be in the friend zone forever. You should-"

Vlad sneers under his breath, "No offense man, but I'm not taking advice from a guy who only looks for hookups. She's different-"

"But I thought she was just a friend," Lance leans over me as he peers at his best friend as his voice shrills, "Oh yes, paint me a pretty picture too and I'll fall in love with you."

While the two bicker over me, I shrink into the wall feeling the eyes of our classmates sink into the classic squabble between the two. I turn my attention back to the field as I bask in the clashing armor. Their constant bickering begins to drown in the ray of colors that draped the open field. Coppell's finest academy was preparing for the day of Baskil's untimely death. Students draped the ledges in colors of purple and gold in honor of the fallen Rulers; King Leonidas and Queen Faye. While the images of the fallen King and Queen had been removed from all texts, one image was sure to remain as a reminder of Wisteria's darkest days seven years ago. The tainted face of the exiled devil who coldly executed the beloved rulers and their remaining bloodline; their daughter, Grace Avon Baskil. Seven years ago, Grace not only slaughtered her parents but also her twin sister; Anastasia Diane Baskil. My stomach twists at the thought of this dreaded holiday.

Despite the kingdom's celebrations towards the deceased royal family, the anniversary is always clouded with the cruel smile painted on their living daughter's face which is displayed every year to the people in her trials. And each year, she grows bloodier and vile. The holiday is still a grave reminder of the political issues that reside in the Baskil kingdom. And while the kingdom is drowning in regression and poverty, the new King is draped in shining armor and spun as an almighty hero who was able to apprehend his niece from her bloodbath.The anniversary of the slain King Leonidas is also the rise of his brother whom everyone refers to as King Alfean or better known as the Golden King.

Except there was nothing golden about King Alfean.

He was just as cruel and vindictive as Grace. The only difference between the two was that he would execute his followers at the hands of others while his niece carried out her sins with her own hands. The Golden King made a decree to eradicate all wielders of wild magic like his niece because it was a sign of allegiance to the exiled princess. The Golden King himself gave no forgiveness in the eyes of those who oppose. Under the laws of the new King, anyone with wielding abilities was to be summoned to the castle immediately for placement. And if a magic wielder was to oppose or hide their god-given abilities, they were trialed and extirpated. It was unheard of for anyone to be spared.

Among the many victims who discovered their unclaimed powers was a twelve-year-old girl, who just happened to be our little sister, named Charlie Reed. She was taken from the orphanage three years ago and hadn't been heard from since. She had just turned twelve, and she was a wielder of fire. Charlie was doted on by the entire town. Unlike me, she was destined to be the town's upcoming raven beauty with her blonde ringlets and unwavering crisp blue eyes. Everywhere she went, she was beloved and idolized for her brilliance. Like Vlad, Charlie was a whiz when it came to mechanics and she always had a knack for problem-solving. While many believe that the King would forgive the girl for hiding her abilities because of her age, Vlad and I knew better. We'd witnessed executions of families with children far younger in the town square. Their blood would bake in the gutters for weeks as their belongings rotted on the sidewalks. Only scoundrels would rob the graves of the departed.

The only other person who was aware of Charlie's abilities was Vlad, and he's held resentment ever since the day she was whisked away from our mother's arms. He hasn't been the same since and is often detached from others. If it wasn't for Lance, my brother would never leave his room.

"Ann!" My attention snaps back in place as my brother's voice pierces my ear.

"She's not paying attention because she's been eyeing the King's soldiers." Lance huffed, and for a moment, I recognized a tinge of jealousy, "Seriously, what is it about them that fazes you out?"

I clasp my hands together and cover my mouth. For a moment, my lungs feel squeezed as I try to piece my words together to form a sane response. But I know that my reasoning would not only send Lance into a frenzy but would also shatter my brother's heart. My palms feel drenched as I drag them across my silk uniform, and clear the itchy dryness buried in my esophagus. "I'm going to join the Royal Enlists."

There's a brief moment of silence as the two registered my words. Lance's furrowed brow gave away a hint of anguish at my words, and my heart faltered. But Vlad sat still and silently at my side. His expression was bare, and I couldn't depict what whirlwind of emotions I must've put him through. I almost couldn't hear the bitter growl he muttered, "why?"

"Well," my words form slowly as I studied his cold expression, "I figured that it's the only way to locate her. See what it was that caused her to be removed. I just-"

Vlad slammed a crimson red leather-bound book at Ann's feet. The cover looked worn and tattered as I reached down to pick up the frayed hardback. Carefully untying the cover, my fingertips traced the elegant signature on the front page. The book had years of damage worn into the spine, and a musty stain that draped over the cover. "Don't let anyone else read it. I found this book, and-" his voice broke as his eyes fell to the ground as he whispered, "Charlie posted a clip of it in the paper. The next day, we came home to find that the King removed the 'author' immediately."

While I wanted to comfort my brother, I found it hard to release the right words. I remember the day that she was removed. Because we watched in the shallow bushes as she was dragged from our cottage in the meadows. It was rare for someone to step inside the rumble that we called home, but it was hard to listen to our mother's crisp cries as she clung to the guard's ankle. Begging them to let go of her little girl. And the horror in her eyes when she realized that Vlad and I were watching in the tall trees and shrubs.

I wet my lips as a drawing caught my eye on the front page. There was a scribble of what appeared to be a girl's head with long pigtails and a freckled grin. Almost like the handiwork of a child. The signature above it was written in jet black ink but was smeared and covered in droplets of stains. It was unreadable.

For the longest time, I could remember Vlad carrying this book at his side for years. Clutching it like a hidden trophy. The context of the book was full of composing lyrics, artwork, and storytelling. As I scanned through the pages, I noticed the following pages had a similar scribble with little notes of elegant handwriting woven into the bottom of the pages. The book itself was a collection of random thoughts and scribbles. There was no value in the item as many of the crumpled pages appeared to be drenched in discolored muddy blotches.

I drew my breath in quickly as I whispered, "I'm going to find her." I look up at my brother and reach for his hand, "I promise."

Before Vlad can respond, Lance takes my open hand and squeezes it gently. "We're going to find her-"

Our eyes meet and for the first time, I can't look away.

"The three of us."