Samlii's eyes fell to the rolled parchment in his hands. “What is that?”

Karaa smiled, but knit his brow. “Forgive me, my love. I finished tending the Tree Kin earlier, but I stayed a time at Calis’ teiami; Faeralie has been feeling a little under the weather as of late. No, it’s nothing serious, do not worry. Just sensitivities to the season’s air, I believe. As for what this is, I must admit, I am not certain. A page from New Münshir delivered it.”

“New Münshir?”

“Aye. We’ve not had dealings with them since King Aurelius passed, and even then, it was only a formality. This is a summons, from the Future King and Represent of New Münshir. They say it is on urgent business. Here, read it,” he said, offering the scroll to her.

Samlii gingerly took the paper and unrolled it. Her eyes scanned the foreign characters finely etched upon the page, and she wrinkled her brow. She read it once again before looking up at Karaa. “Do you think there is trouble?”

“...No,” he said slowly. “No, I do not believe so. If there were trouble, it would be worded differently I think. But there is something strange about it. You see, those characters express urgency, and yet, the rest of the summons seems to imply cordiality, even comradeship. I am not certain what to think.”

“Neyhira told me that young Prince Gideon is soon to take a journey across the sea. Perhaps he means to see her and Thairyn before he leaves,” Samlii suggested. “Such an occasion would seem to answer both tones of the message.”

“Perhaps,” Karaa said, looking up from the scroll to her. “But then, why not address them personally?”

“Is it not custom in New Münshir to address those of rank by their titles only in formal invitations?” Samlii asked. “This is addressed to Dé Pastores dé Abora, The Shepherds of the Tree Kin. Now, that might be any of us—you, me, a member of the Council, the Matron—but our daughters’ friendship with the Münshir Prince and the expressed familiarity leads me to infer that it is meant for them.”

“Aye, I suppose that explains it,” Karaa said. “Well, I shall bring them there tomorrow morning then, after learning time, of course.” He prinnaged Samlii’s forehead softly, then he yawned.

“Come to bed, my love,” Samlii said. “You need to rest.” She took his hand held it to her heart, rubbing it affectionately.

Karaa smiled a little and nodded.

“Valii’s sleeping with us again tonight,” Samlii whispered as they entered their room and approached the bedding to see their youngest curled up in the centre, “I’m afraid she still fears Vüls shall invade in the night and take her away.”

Karaa smiled and brushed Valii’s shoulder. Without any hesitation, the four-year-old’s eyes popped open and she rolled over to look at him, her expression little better than terrified, pleading that he protect her. “You know that I would never allow that to happen, don’t you Valii?” he asked.

“Aye, Papa.” Valii nodded, but still looked frightened.

Karaa scooped her tiny form up into his arms and hugged her tight, wrapping his wings around her. “Oh, my precious little child,” he said softly. “Did Prince Gideon tell you what Vüls look like?”

Valii flinched and ducked her head under his wing. “He said they’re big, really, really big,” her muffled voice squeaked, “Bigger than grown men, even my own self, and they eat people! They wanna eat my own self too, Papa! They wanna eat Gideon and all his own friends!”

Karaa looked at Samlii; the motherly protectiveness shone through her eyes as what might have been interpreted as an expression of anger by the child, had she been looking. He smiled a little at her and bowed his head under his wings to brush the top of Valii’s head with his lips. “You know something, Valii?” he whispered, “Your Papa is bigger than any Vül.”

Valii looked up at him, with big, round, trusting eyes. “Really?” she asked hopefully.

Karaa nodded and smiled reassuringly. “And they can’t get to you. Do you know why? You’re here, with your Mama and Papa, in the Forest, with mountains protecting us on one side and Münshir protecting us on the other. Vüls live far, far away, across the ocean.” He gave her a little prinnaging on the end of her nose. “Do you want to know something else?”

Valii nodded.

“Even if Vüls did come,  your Mama and I would get them before they ever got near to you. We love you. I am your Papa, and no matter what, I’ll always protect you. Always.”

Valii smiled a little. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tucked her muzzle under his chin. “I know. I love you too, Papa,” she whispered.

That gesture of such unconditional trust made Karaa feel as though his heart might burst. He smiled and looked at Samlii, whose eyes now reflected warmth, pride, and love.

She smiled too and nuzzled him under the neck, prinnaging him softly as she did so. “So do I, Papa,” she whispered to him. “So do I.”

Neyhira did not quite know why she was awake. She did not usually wake up this early, when the golden beams of Kiirlight still had yet to peep through the loose silken curtains and brighten her room. For now, there was a twilight blue glow at her window, and the room was peacefully dim. There was a soft cool breeze toying with the curtains, so that they swayed and twirled lazily from time to time, and it carried with it that leafy early-morning smell.

Beside her, she could hear Thairyn’s light breathing with a slight squeak every time she exhaled. With a glance, she saw that Thairyn was sleeping about as gracefully as a fish out of water, mouth open and all, and the thought made her smile. She looked over at Valii’s bedding across the room, and she was not surprised to find it empty. Poor Valii had slept with Mama and Papa every night since Gideon told them about the Vüls. There were a few soft toys sprawled about the woven floor between her own and Valii’s bedding, right where she and Thairyn had left them before crawling into bed the previous night... somehow their untidiness and familiarity added to the totally content, comfortable feeling she had. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she almost felt that she was about to slip back into slumber when she heard a noise at the tapestry door of the room. Looking up, she saw Papa coming in, and she smiled at him when his eyes met hers.

“Good morning, love,” he whispered.

“Morning, Papa,” Neyhira whispered back. She yawned and stretched her arms and wings, which movement disturbed Thairyn—though, not enough to wake her, just enough to make her moan and push back. But Neyhira paid her shove no mind and sat up, looking as content as ever. “Is something the matter?”

Papa smiled and came to sit down beside her. Fondly he brushed his hand through her hair a couple of times, and he gave her a prinnaging on the forehead. “Let’s wake you sister,” he whispered.

“M’kay,” Neyhira yawned. However, she did nothing but watch with a sleepy smile as Papa rubbed Thairyn’s shoulder and urged her to wake.

“Thairyn,” Papa said in a low voice, “Thairyn, it’s time to wake up.”

Thairyn moaned quietly again. She stretched without even opening her eyes, then relaxed and nodded a few times, as though trying to get comfortable enough to go on sleeping.

Papa smiled and urged her one more time—and, upon recognizing his voice, her eyes opened lazily to look up at him. “Hmm?”

“I need you and Neyhira to get dressed in your nicest things.”

“Why?” Thairyn whispered, her eyelids fluttering slowly as she tried to keep them open.

“I received a summons from New Münshir, and I would like the two of you to accompany me there this morning.”

“Really?” Neyhira whispered excitedly. She took Thairyn’s arm and squeezed it gently, “Oh, Thairyn, oh, please wake up; Papa wants to take us to New Münshir!”

Thairyn blinked and opened her eyes wider. Then she sat straight up and blinked again. “Really, Papa?”

“M’hm,” Papa confirmed, nodding. “You must dress in your best things, though, you will be important guests.”

“Aye!” Neyhira squeaked. She hopped out of bed and hurried over to her wickerwork chest and started fumbling through it excitedly.

“Hush now,” Papa said softly as Thairyn followed after her, “We don’t want to wake the others.”

Neyhira paused and looked up at him questioningly. “Valii’s not coming too?”

Papa shook his head. “Not this time,” he said softly. “Valii is too little for this journey as yet.”

Neyhira looked at Thairyn, who returned the expression of uncertainty. What would Valii think if she woke up and found that Papa had taken them to New Münshir without her? Gideon was her friend too—they had the three of them discovered him together. He was their special thing—how could they go without her?

“Valii will be helping Mama set up the naming ceremony for tonight,” Papa whispered, guessing their thoughts. “She will be all right.”

Neyhira felt a little torn; setting up for her first younger cousin’s naming ceremony sounded like a lot of fun in its own right... they would be making rare treats and setting up decorations, and catching clinclins for the lanterns... but, mentally, she felt she had to agree with the look Thairyn was giving her. Staying home to prepare for a party was a poor substitution to going off to visit a faraway place and come home just in time to also partake in the freshly laid-out festivities. Neither of them dared say this, though, for they feared changing their father’s mind about taking them with him. So, deciding to be totally selfish and enjoy the opportunity, the twins dug out their nicest clothes and got dressed. Thairyn chose the gold-embroidered dark red kyntin with matching trousers she usually wore only on naming days—and Neyhira its purple counterpart—each with a green diamond shape embroidered on the chest. Each pulled on a pair of matching decorative foot-covers, brushed their hair, washed their faces, and hurried quietly down to the teiami’s ladder to meet their Papa.

A definitive sense of excitement filled the twins as they followed their Papa up The Way towards the road that would take them to New Münshir. Though they had both crossed the path a hundred times or more to reach various locations in the forest, this morning it felt new and—how had Gideon put it again? Magicael, for sure. Though its wide highway was still as well trod as ever, the colours and scents of the Tree Kins’ bark, the flowers, the moist grass mulch underfoot—it was all so vibrant and glorious! The vast vaulted canopies overhead glinted gold and green in the light of the rising Kiir, the branches intertwining and linking each individual of the forest. Tiny shadows of biireos could be seen way up there, darting to

and fro as they flitted about, and both the echoes of their distant songs and the whispers of the Tree Kin filled the air.

Neyhira’s eyes fell from the canopy to the road ahead. It seemed to her that the Tree Kin stood as mighty golden or amber pillars along the wayside, for the way that the Kiirlight touched them at this hour transformed their bristly bark into things of glowing majesty. The Kiir would only be in the eastern position to cast such a spectacle for a mere thirty minutes to an hour every day, and she knew it would soon return to its familiar homely appearance. For now, though, it seemed so grand and fitting for the moment that she and her twin take their first trip outside of the Forest. It seemed like she was a queen, and the whole forest was hailing her departure. ...And then, she felt a little foolish and conceited. Who was she, that the Tree Kin of all things, hundreds of years older than even her Grandmama, should put on any particular display simply for her sake? Still, that they undertook this venture at this hour did make it all feel very grand indeed.

Thairyn looked at her father. He looked so noble, dressed in his ceremonial clothes and with beads in his long, dark blue hair. My Papa is just what a Gem Chief should be, she thought. Though Mama had been at times, she could not remember a single instance when he had been angry with her or her sisters. There were times when he had been disappointed by what they might have done—and how she hated those times!—but he had never raised his voice, never said a biting word. Always, he had been calm, wise, encouraging, and loving. His face seemed so at ease, so peaceful. There was a shadow of a smile at the edge of his lips, and his deep, comforting breathing was long and steady.

Out of the corner of his eye, he must have caught her staring, for he looked at her then and smiled. “What?”

Thairyn smiled back. “I’m just admiring you, Papa.”

“Oh, are you?” he asked, smiling teasingly.

“Yes,” Thairyn said. “And I know why Mama chose you.”

Papa chuckled. “Do you?”

“You have good, strong hands,” she said, taking his in her own and swinging it playfully, “And your spirit is beautiful. It’s always in your eyes, where a spirit should be. I love that.”

Papa laughed and Neyhira pinned back her earfins, smiling girlishly. How bold Thairyn was! She could never say anything like that to Papa, even if it was true. She caught her father’s other hand and leaned her head against his arm affectionately, however, to show him that she agreed.

Papa gave the little hands in his own a squeeze, each in turn, with a glowing smile.

“How long until we reach New Münshir, Papa?” Thairyn asked after a moment.

“Not far. Thirty minutes to the edge of the Forest, and another thirty to the city,” Papa replied, looking on ahead.

“Almost an hour?” Neyhira asked. “Oh, Papa, then, please, if you would, please tell us a story to make time go faster.”

“What sort of story?”

“Oh, we love all your stories, Papa, any one of them would be good,” Thairyn said. Looking around, she added, “How about the trees? Could you tell us a story about the trees?”

“Ah, but do you mean the trees, or the Tree Kin? There are many stories regarding both that I could tell,” Papa said, again with that teasing smile of his.

There were stories about trees? Neither Thairyn nor Neyhira had ever considered this—for, from what they heard, common trees did not move, nor did they speak, as the Tree Kin did. Papa had once said they were always quiet like stone, except when the wind roused their branches... but they did not whisper to each other. What sorts of stories could there possibly be about them? The twins gave each other a glance.

“Papa, is there a reason that trees don’t move?” Neyhira asked.

“It is said that in the early days of Sjoria’s youth, all trees were like the Tree Kin.”

The girls waited, but he held his peace for a long time, until they could no longer stand it and Neyhira blurted, “They were? Well, what happened to them?”

Papa smiled. “I’m sorry, Neyhira. It has been a while since I heard this story, and I’m trying to remember how it went exactly.” He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “In those days, there was a Markron called Kelsandalyn the Dawnbringer. She was the first to learn how to speak with the trees, and taught others to do so as well. It was she who taught the biireos where to place their nests, and she the wind sprites to dance, the lowly vines to coil up towards the Kiir, and the moss learned its patience and gentleness from her. But it was the trees that she loved best, and they loved her also. For her they would do anything. Had she asked them to pluck up their roots and walk as people do, they would have done it.”

“Papa,” Neyhira said slowly, “Grandmama told us a story about Kelsandlyn once, I think, but I don’t remember it much. I thought there were only three Markron; Gonsoris the Great One, Pixelthé the Small, and Cameryna the Fallen One.”

“The time I’m speaking to you of was many thousands of years ago. In those days, the fallen one was still in training, and there were hundreds of Markron. The Dawnbringer had a special bond with another that you may have heard about,” Papa answered, “And his name was Eran-Shaikiel.”

Neyhira and Thairyn looked at each other with puzzled expressions. “Eran-Shakiel. Isn’t he the Nightbringer, who tried to steal the moonslight?” Neyhira asked.

“He is,” Papa said.

“Well, what happened to them all?” Neyhira asked.

“It was Cameryna. She rebelled; she blinded Eran-Shaikiel and, with his aide, took the seat of the High Markron. She destroyed all of the others, only the Great One was able to withstand her, and thus he saved Pixelthé. They are all that are left.”

“What happened to Eran-Shaikiel?”

“He was stripped of his Markron powers for helping Cameryna… and the trees, who loved the Dawnbringer, were so sad that she was gone that they became quiet and still. A select few can still hear their voices when they listen, like you Thairyn,” Papa said, “But their voices are lost to everyone else.”

“Oh, that’s a very sad story,” Thairyn said, though she seemed more thrilled than sad.

Neyhira was quiet. “Why did Eran-Shaikiel help Cameryna do that, Papa?” she asked after a moment. “Didn’t he love Kelsandalyn too?”

“I believe that he did.”

The twins were quiet as they neared a bend in the road. After a minute or two, however, they heard Papa’s beautiful, deep voice humming a tune they did not recognize.

“Papa, what are you singing?”

“Oh,” Papa said, looking down at Neyhira. “It’s an old folksong about Kelsandalyn and Eran-Shaikiel. I am trying to remember the words. It is as sad as her story, though, perhaps you would not want—”

“I want to hear it,” both girls said in unison.

“Sing it please, Papa?” Neyhira asked, after giving Thairyn the sort of smile that said did you steal my thought, or I yours? which her twin returned.

Papa smiled a little. He looked at the road, and, quietly, he started to sing.

Notwithstanding the sorrow of the tale, Thairyn and Neyhira were enchanted. They looked up at their father and the surrounding Tree Kin in awe. It seemed to Thairyn that they were listening too, for their whispers had hushed and there was a solemn stillness on the air.

“The story is sad. But it is also beautiful,” Neyhira said, “Especially when you sing it, Papa.”

Thairyn wanted to know much more about this story. She could tell it would make for such a dramatic historical re-enactment with Neyhira later, but before she could press for more details, they rounded the bend in the road and saw before them, as it were looking down a great arching hallway, the end of the forest, the strange plots of farmlands, and the vast, rolling green hills beyond. Cresting the greatest of these hills was the White City of New Münshir, vast and proud as a silver crown adorning the head of some great green giant. How thrilling to think they were actually going there!

“Oh, oh! Look, there it is!” Neyhira squealed. “Oh, I’m so excited!”

“Papa,” Thairyn said, looking up at him, “Why is it called New Münshir?”

“I suppose there must have been an old Münshir once,” Papa said, smiling at Neyhira’s fluttery expression of excitement. He looked at Thairyn again and went on, “Remember how Manairus’ father wrote ‘ever since the Little Ones came…’? The Münshirlings have not always lived here. They came from a far away land, fleeing their enemies.”

Thairyn furrowed her brow, and Neyhira looked at both her and Papa questioningly.

“Who were their enemies?” Thairyn asked. “Vüls?”

“No, I don’t believe it was the Vüls. The Münshirlings have only been at war with them for a few years, that conflict started just before Kaqurei was born. It is said that the first Münshirlings to come to this land were fleeing the shadows and the waters that had overtaken their homeland, and I believe there was a war involved, but as I understand it, those who told the story to our ancestors were the children and grandchildren of those that forsook their homeland. They had little recollection of the events preceding their forefathers’ departure. They had all been travelling for many years. And their language was very hard

for our ancestors to understand or pronounce,” Papa said, “That is why the trade speak was developed.”

“So, we don’t really know where they came from or why then,” Thairyn said.

“That’s right.”

“Elder Fara told me that Tyrnah helped make trade speak,” Neyhira said, eager to be in on the conversation. “She was Telae’ah’s mother, too—I didn’t know that before.”

“Really?” Thairyn asked. “Imagine that! We’re twins, and Manairus is my Star-guardian, and his beloved’s mother is yours! That’s so cool!”

Neyhira smiled. “Aye, I thought so too.”

Papa smiled knowingly.

“Secret enemies in their homeland, Moonkinds, Vüls... Papa, how come the flatfaces have so many wars?” Thairyn asked.

“Thairyn, that term is uncouth,” Papa said sharply. “You must never call them that again.”

Neyhira felt her heart leap and face go hot for her twin’s sake.

Thairyn pinned back her earfins and looked up at him innocently. “Why?” she asked. “Their faces are flat. I wouldn’t mind if they called me longface.”

“It’s a derogatory term, Thairyn. If someone was cruel to you because you were different from them, and always brought that difference to your attention whenever they hurt you, you too would consider it insulting—or, at the very least, would connect anyone who spoke of that difference with those that would hurt you. Do you understand?”

“Mhmm,” Thairyn mumbled, looking down.

“Where did you even hear that word?” Papa asked.

“I read it in Manairus’ Tome,” she answered in a low voice, glancing up at him. “I wanted to read about Manairus, not his father. He calls them that all the time.”

Papa’s expression softened and he sighed tensely. “That is why you are only to study your Star-guardian with me. Just because Manairus wrote it doesn’t mean that he was always right. He was a child once too, you know, and his father taught him many hateful things before he became the wise leader and Star-guardian that you should try to be like. Of course, you must learn both so that you may understand all things, but if I am not there to guide you, how will you know the right from the wrong? You must only study the tome with me from now on, understood?”

“Mhmm,” Thairyn mumbled in an even lower voice, avoiding his eyes now.

They continued on down the path. Soon the forest and its familiar paths fell behind, replaced by bright, open landscape and a narrow sandy-dirt road by which to travel. There was a certain expanse of flat fields before the hills of New Münshir, and though they could see in the distance that much of it had been utilized as farmland by the Münshirlings, for now there was naught but open grassy fields on either side of them.

“Papa?” Neyhira asked after a little while.

“Hmm?”

“Why does Gideon and—” she paused and looked confused. Looking up at him, she asked, “Papa, what is a Represent? And why do they want to see you and Thairyn and me? Did they tell you in the summons?”

Thairyn looked up at Papa’s face, curious as well.

“A Represent is someone, usually a Kaocoa, who stands in place of the King and Queen of New Münshir, should the heir not yet be of age to take the throne in their absence,” Papa said. And, upon seeing his daughters’ only further confused faces, elaborated. “Prince Gideon’s parents, the King and Queen, were lost at sea many years ago. Because the prince was still a young child, he was not able to become the leader of his people in his father’s place. So his Kaocoa has been ruling as a Represent. Until Prince Gideon comes of age, the Represent is sort of like acting king. He has no power to change the laws, nor to change or elect members of the Münshirling court—which is somewhat like our Council of Elders; the king, or Represent, goes to the court to discuss problems and to come up with solutions, and, before any laws can be made or changed, the king and the court must all agree. The Represent, however, is only to enforce the laws enacted by the previous king, in the prince’s best interest.”

“Gideon’s parents are gone?” Thairyn and Neyhira exchanged sad-eyed anxious glances.

Papa nodded solemnly. “As for why we have been summoned,” he went on, “The message did not say. I assume, since the Prince will be leaving soon, that he desired to see you. But I am not certain. Thus, my daughters, when we arrive at New Münshir, you must only address the prince by his name and title, Prince Gideon. It would be considered rude if you speak to him informally on official business. You must also call his Kaocoa Represent Ventus.”

“I know Gideon, he’s my friend, he won’t care,” Thairyn mumbled sulkily, “All this silly formal stuff is silly.”

“Nonetheless, you will abide by it.”

Neyhira gave Thairyn a look. “We will, Papa.”

However, though she had resigned to sulk for the rest of the trip on account of being scolded, it was not long before Thairyn forgot to. They had come upon the Münshirling farmlands and could see more clearly the strange uniform patterns of the crops—for example, there were all milca in fourteen long rows on this side of the road, and all a strange sort of plant they had never seen before in fourteen long rows on the other side. The twins questioned their father on what the strange crop was; it was a tall, crystal blue plant with pale stems and translucent drop-shaped leaves, whose edges were almost as rich a royal blue as their father’s feathers and patterned as the mottled patches of colour in Neyhira and Mama’s earfins.

“The Münshirlings call it dülcha,” Papa said. “Its kind were introduced to this land when the -

Münshirlings first came; they brought with them its seeds. It is prized by the Münshirlings, and much sought after by human peoples in other nations also.”

“Why?” Neyhira asked.

“Its leaves produce an oil that is sweeter than berries,” Papa said, “And its stalk may be ground into a fine sweet powder which they use to make their food last longer. Sweet is important to them in any food, not just treats.”

“It wasn’t important in that soup Gideon had,” Neyhira said, making a face. “Eurgh!”

Papa’s earfins perked up and he looked at her—instantly she wished she had bitten her tongue. “What soup Gideon had?” he asked.

Thairyn and Neyhira exchanged uneasy glances.

“Gideon let us try some of his soup once,” Neyhira said after a moment. “It... it wasn’t sweet. I didn’t like it, so I didn’t eat much.”

“And it was stinky, so I didn’t eat any at all,” Thairyn said.

“What was in it?” Papa asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did he tell you?”

Neyhira ducked her head. “Mobos,” she squeaked in a tiny voice.

Papa wrinkled his nose and looked both disgusted and regretful. “Neyhira, in the future, always trust your nose. If it does not smell like something you should put in your mouth, don’t.”

“I won’t,” Neyhira said, “I’m never going to try Münshirling food again.”

“I did not say that,” Papa said wisely, “I simply said to trust your nose.”

“Yes Papa.”

“But Gideon sure was nice to share, wasn’t he, Papa?” Thairyn asked with a big grin, in an effort to keep any trouble from coming to Gideon.

Papa only raised an eyebrow. He looked amused though, so Thairyn decided to not be worried.

They passed a grove of twaelo trees, and the twins noted again the strange uniformity of it all. Every tree was separated exactly six feet apart, and there were exactly twenty five rows of them. No other plant, except perhaps grass, grew under them, and the grass was very short and uniform also; not from having been trodden down, but it seemed that it had been cut in exact lengths as far as the eye could see. “How strange!” Neyhira exclaimed to Thairyn.

They passed farmhouse dwellings of the Münshirlings, and were much surprised by the square-shaped foundations, windows, and triangular roofs. Papa explained this build made them sturdier on the ground, and that the roofs were built at an angle to allow rain runoff and prevent leaks. “They do not have the canopies of the Tree Kin to protect their homes,” Papa said.

The strangest thing about the Münshirling countryside, however, was that she never saw any Münshirlings out and about. Well, that was not entirely true. She would sometimes see them working in the distance, but they would be gone by the time she and her family drew near. At one time as they walked by a farmhouse that was particularly close to the road, she spied out of the corner of her eye a little round face peering out at her by way of a window, but when she had looked at it directly, it had vanished. “Hmm,” she hummed, furrowing her brow.

Neyhira, too, noticed that the Münshirlings had the temperament of wind sprites. But, more pressing to her, was that her father was becoming markedly uncomfortable in the way that he walked, and even now he would keep his voice low when he spoke to them. But she did not question him on this, and simply followed his lead.

After a while, they left most of the farmhouses behind and Papa relaxed a little. Then they came to a point where their own dirt path turned and came to join another road. This road was paved in perfectly flat white slabs, and, looking ahead, they could see that it was the road that would take them up the hills towards New Münshir. Thairyn and Neyhira, though, squeaked and giggled upon stepping on this road, and quickly hopped back onto the dirt path.

“It feels so funny, Papa!” Neyhira exclaimed when he turned back to see them.

“It won’t hurt you,” Papa said, smiling a little. “Come on.”

Neyhira and Thairyn looked at each other. “You first,” Neyhira said with a bashful smile.

“No, you,” Thairyn giggled.

“You hatched first,” Neyhira said.

“Your foot came out the same time as my head; we hatched at the same time!”

And so they resigned to take the strange road together, hand in hand, heroes to the bitter end as Manairus and Keltäme—but there was much more nervously hopping on and hopping off and giggling about how strange it felt than either of the said heroes would have done over a paved road.

Papa did not seem to mind, and smiled in earnest watching them. When they had gotten used to the textures and joined his side, they all resumed their walk to New Münshir.

Walking uphill proved to be rather strenuous for the little princesses, however, and about halfway they were so breathless and tired that Papa was obliged to heft them up under his arms and carry them the rest of the way. He did not mind tickling them while he was at it either, so there was a considerable amount of squealing and giggling before they reached the top of the hill within sight of the city’s gates, which were big and just as white as the walls and roads. The gates were made of metal though, not stone, and they possessed a silvery-rainbow sheen, like a bubble. Thairyn wanted to ask her Papa what kind of metal was that white, but as he set them on their feet again he motioned that both she and her sister be quiet as he talked to the watchmen.

Four of the watchmen stood before the gate, all of them dressed in silver-coloured shiikara armour of a curious fashion. They wore helmets designed to resemble the head of some sort of raptor, with the beak

over the bridge of the nose. But, unlike any raptor Thairyn or Neyhira had ever seen, these helmets were fashioned with ears—no, wait. As they drew nearer, Thairyn could see that these “ears” on the helmets were actually feathery biireo wings; their position was reminiscent of earfins. The top of the helmet was crested in dark blue feathers. They were not half as dark as Papa’s feathers; these crests were a bit lighter but more vibrant in colour. They also wore long capes which were the same kind of blue the feathers were, clasped onto their shoulders by feathered pads. Two of the watchmen nearest the gates held long metal weapons; about nine feet long, each with a horrible point and a blade that was narrow at the top and wide and jagged at the bottom so that it looked like it would do far more damage being pulled out of something than being stuck in. They crossed these weapons in Papa’s path to bar him from the gates.

Papa said something to them in Münshirling, but it was a funny word that neither of the twins had ever heard before. He went on to talk to them in big formal Münshirling words. One of them answered back in the same manner of speech, and Thairyn abruptly lost interest, for she could not really understand what was going on. Instead, her eyes wandered to a younger watchman, who stood far and to the right of the two before the gate. He looked to be about Gideon’s age, or perhaps just a little older. It was his eyes that made him so interesting to her, for they were of such a shade as Thairyn had never before imagined in eyes: pale and light blue like the sky with a thin cloud cover. These were in stark contrast against dark lashes. He did not look back at her, but stared straight ahead, serious and stern, as though she was not even there—even when she smiled a little and waved at him, and she was a little disconcerted by this.

One of the watchmen gave a shout. Thairyn startled and looked up at him. Another watchmen came down to the gate from one of its adjoining twin towers. This man wore considerably more ornate armour than his companions, and his feathered crest was larger. He crossed his arms and listened as the one whom had called him went on about something he clearly did not like. Then he looked at Papa (who seemed a bit frustrated by now) and said, “Tu mé osténdo dé acturso,” with a nod and jut of his chin. Quite loosely, that meant “Show me the summons”, and Neyhira found it strange not only for its sudden informality, but also rather rude by the tone in his voice and that gesture of his chin.

Papa, politely, pretended not to notice his attitude. He reached into the satchel at his side and produced the summons. The fancy watchman took it and read it. Then he looked at Papa doubtfully and said in a slightly more respectful tone some more of those formal words that the twins did not understand.

Thairyn’s gaze and interest, meanwhile, wandered back to the younger watchman. To her surprise and delight, this time he noted her gaze and smiled a little bit at her—he seemed apologetic somehow.

Well, that was something she could understand, so she smiled back. Strange as he looked to her in all that armour, at least he was friendly. She noted he had a silver shell looking thing at his belt. She inched closer to him and quietly asked him about it in the trade speech.

“It’s called a horn. It is to warn the city of approaching enemies,” he said, also in the trade speech.

“Do enemies come often?” Neyhira asked curiously, taking more interest in what he had said than in what her father was saying to the fancy watchman.

“No. We haven’t had enemies come to the capital for thousands of years. But we have these still, just in case.”

Thairyn was thrilled. Not only had he replied, but he humoured an actual conversation! “Do you have many enemies?” she asked.

“Just the Vüls. Those cäneys wouldn’t dare come here though, especially not by this gate.”

“Cäneys?” Neyhira repeated, tilting her head to one side.

The watchman gave her a sideways smile and looked either apologetic or embarrassed—possibly both. “You probably don’t want to repeat that around your father,” he said in a low voice, “It’s not a very nice word.”

“Oh,” Thairyn said quietly. “But then why did you speak it?”

“Because I hate Vüls,” he replied matter-of-factly. He glanced at the fancy watchman and Papa, whose voices were starting to sound a little harsh. “Sorry about the captain—by all rights he ought to have let you in by now. You’ve got the Represent’s summons and all. Don’t mind him, but he’s been in a sour mood all week and for some reason he feels it’s his duty to make things harder for everyone else when he’s like that.”

“Oh,” Neyhira said. She hesitated, and then added, “Uhm, could you tell us something?”

“What?” the young watchman asked.

“Uhm, do Vüls really eat people?”

“Yes,” the watchman said without batting an eyelash.

Thairyn and Neyhira gasped—and this drew both their father’s attention and the captain’s. The latter gave the young man a sharp look, and the former exhaled softly. Then at last the captain said something, and the pair of watchmen at the gate parted their weapons to allow the Dracoens to pass.

The young watchman gave the twins an apologetic smile. They nodded to him, and proceeded with their father into the city. As they did though, Thairyn caught the voice of the captain snap in his native tongue, “You’re not supposed to speak to paragreys while on duty!”

“They’re just children,” the younger watchman replied meekly.

“Children? They’re monsters and animals, no better than the Vüls!” returned the captain sharply, just before the second gate inside opened and Thairyn could hear them no more. Her parting thought was that she did not like the captain at all—he was ugly and mean—but as the full view of the city opened before her, she forgot everything about him and the nice watchman with sky-blue eyes. The city was very alive—there were more Münshirlings in the streets than either of the girls had ever imagined existed in the world, let alone in one place! Reddish-brown stone and wood buildings, shops, and homes lined the stone-paved streets, and people were everywhere: merchants with their wheelbarrows of goods, children running to and

fro, people coming, people going... and everyone seemed to be talking! Instantly the twins were assaulted by more smells, sounds, and sights than they could process in a single setting. It was overwhelming, but exciting!

Papa let out a long sigh as he led his daughters through the gates and into the midst of this chaos. He put his hands on their shoulders and leaned down a little bit to say in as low a voice as could be heard over the Münshirling noise, “I apologize for that.”

“It’s okay,” Neyhira said, but she did not know if he heard her for he rose up to his full height before she had finished.

The usual hustle and bustle of the streets was interrupted somewhat as the Dracoens continued on. Merchants, for example, would stop mid-shout and stare as they walked by. Children would scurry from their path a good distance, turn around, and also stop and stare.

“Uh, Papa, why are they staring at us like that?” Neyhira asked with a little uneasiness. The Münshirlings were as strange to her as she was to them. Somehow, Gideon had not looked as strange when there was just him and his friends. And, at the very least, Gideon had been polite and treated her like a normal person from the first, not some kind of phenomenon that he just could not look away from!

“They’ve not seen Dracoens before, most of them,” Papa said, giving her a reassuring look. “Do not fear. They won’t hurt you.”

Neyhira nodded, but took her father’s hand for security even so.

Thairyn, refusing to be intimidated, decided to stare down anyone who stopped to stare at her. This did not have a good effect on the Münshirlings, however, and Papa soon asked her to stop. “Well, if they don’t like it, why do they have to do it to us?”

Papa just chuckled under his breath. “You’ll understand someday.”

As they passed through the marketplace and rounded another bend, heading up a road, the Palace of New Münshir came into view. To be certain, there were few places in the city where one could look up and not see its great white crystal-shaped towers and spires, but here one could look up past the reddish-brown roofs of the Münshirling buildings and see nearly the whole palace, situated up on a hill in the distance. But they still could not see the road that would take them directly to it. Münshirlings seemed to be very fond of going the long way around, and doubling back, and spiralling both up and down before their roads would actually take you to where you wanted to go. It would seem at times that the palace should be just around the next bend on some streets, but then it would not be. To make matters worse, the terrain was all strange; since New Münshir was built on the hills, all the ground was uneven. They would be walking uphill on some streets and downhill on others. It was all very confusing to the twins, though Papa seemed to know his way.

More disturbing to the twins than the terrain was that staring groups of Münshirlings had become following crowds, many of whom would point, and laugh, and grin showing their teeth. The twins could not tell what they were saying, for their casual accents slurred their words and sounds together, but it all made them very uneasy. Neither Thairyn nor Neyhira dared say much with them following behind. So, very few questions were asked, though many were thought of, as the roads became wider and straighter, and the houses larger and finer.

They soon came to a great wide plaza, and the buildings that stood around it were the finest the twins had seen yet, more like the palace itself than the common buildings, and made of white stone. They were not living places though; they had large transparent crystal windows so that the twins could see well-dressed vendors inside showcasing things like shimmery dresses, golden and crystal vases and sculptures, beautiful fabrics, and more to potential customers.

Before the buildings, there was a ring of grass which circled the whole plaza, and there were tiny, uniform, straight trees grown at regular intervals in its midst. In the centre of the plaza was a great crystal and bronze fountain depicting three central figures, a man and a woman—both considerably larger than any real life Münshirling that the twins had seen so far—and a great Treshala with its wings outstretched behind them. The man and the woman each stood on one end of a perfectly balanced scale. The Treshala’s neck was stretched skyward, and a jet of water issued forth out of its open beak.

The woman, on the right, was depicted with long, flowing hair and wore a loose dress which clung to and swirled about the curves of her knees. Her knees down to her feet were bare. Her hands were extended to those in front of her, as though gently beckoning them to her arms. The man on the left wore armour much like the watchmen the twins had seen, only he wore no helmet, but a crown instead. He stood tall, stern, and proud, with great bronze hammer in his left hand, and his right extended palm-up as though he were expecting someone to give him something. There was an inscription on the fountain’s greatest basin: Judicätum et Miséricordia Perpetüum. The twins recognized that phrase; Mama and Papa had taught it to them during learning time. It was the Münshirling’s national saying, meaning “Justice and Mercy Forever”. Below it was a smaller inscription stating, Execute not Justice without Mercy, else in the day of thine own want he refuse thee see her face.

Some people lingered by the fountain to drink or sat on the edge of its basins and to read small hand-held books by the sound of its waters. There were many people coming and going, some on foot, most by carriages dragged by horses. All in all, though prettier, it was just as strange and busy as the rest of the city.  There were also plenty of armoured men around the plaza in general; some were marching, but most were loitering and some were even chatting and showing off for some young ladies dressed in fine pleated dresses like the one that the twins had seen Marley wear. However, as the Dracoens and following rabble entered the plaza, many of the soldiers leapt to their feet and stood at attention—as though they meant to act and detain someone, but, upon seeing the Dracoens, found themselves at a loss as to who they should

detain. As it was, they just stood by and watched them pass with mouths agape.

The twins tried to pay these and all the staring others no mind, searching instead for the faces of little Münshirling children. However, the plaza seemed to be bereft of these; Neyhira only heard voices of children singing joylessly as they passed some tall building just after the fountain—something about a “poor little Narie Lynn” and being wary of the wily beckons of the stream. It sounded like an interesting song, but the voices she heard sounded like they had long since sung the heart out of it so that it was now tedious, even if they sang it rather well.

After the school, the Dracoens passed a building with tables set outside it. Over each table was a pretty floral shade. There were more finely dressed women and a few men sitting at these tables, conversing and drinking daintily out of little white cups. Neyhira guessed that these people were trying to make up for their personal lack of colour by their dress, for they all wore shimmery fabrics of red, blue, white, purple, and gold. They seemed to be dressed as nicely as Gideon and his friends had been, and Thairyn wondered if they were as nice in temper. As the Dracoens passed by them, however, their little white gloved hands were drawn over gasping mouths—they too, it would seem, were not immune to staring.

“I wish they’d stop that,” Thairyn muttered quietly to Neyhira.

“Me too. They’re frightening me a little.”

Papa said nothing. He looked a little tense, but he proceeded to walk with confidence, his head held high.

From the plaza, the Dracoens continued up a long sloping road, which was lined on both sides by men in armour, going upwards towards the palace. The soldiers were spaced as uniformly as the trees of the plaza, though closer together, and all held those horrible looking weapons. It made the girls feel very uncomfortable to cross between these lines, with stone-faced soldiers and weapons on either side, but, thinking positively, Neyhira was happy to see that the crowds would not follow them up this road. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that they had stopped and were looking on wistfully before dispersing a few at a time.

The road proved to be considerably steeper than it at first appeared. Up, up, up—Neyhira wished long before they made it halfway that Papa could carry her again, for her legs soon began to ache.

Once they had finally reached the top of the hill, the twins were surprised to find that the land had been perfectly flattened so that it was all even. They wondered how the Münshirlings had done it—for it looked like they had simply taken a knife and cut the top of the hill clean off! But, the sisters were panting too hard from their climb to ask their father about it. Before them stretched the last half mile of their journey—a straight white road, still with a line-up of soldiers on either side, towards the palace gates—for, indeed, a smaller wall, though still as magnificent as the one surrounding the city, surrounded the palace. These gates, unlike those at the city entrance, were already open.

A young boy met them when they arrived at the gate. His hair was cut very short, like Nya’s had been, and he donned a puffy blue hat with matching puffy trousers that only came down to his knees, so that the twins could see that his legs were a real bright yellow. He also wore a rather stiff-looking blue jacket with silver buttons, and short blue boots that turned up about an inch or two over his ankles. The twins did not hazard a guess at his age, but he was about Valii’s height. He seemed rather nervous and pale, and swallowed hard as Papa approached him. “W-Welcome Gem Chief Karaa,” he stammered after a moment in trade speak, “His Excellency, The R-r-represent Ventus, has been expecting you.”

Papa gave him a slow nod.

The boy gave Thairyn and Neyhira an uncertain glance with his dark brown eyes. He blinked twice and looked up at Papa as though he meant to ask him something, but he must have gotten distracted by how very tall Papa was, for his eyes widened, looking him up and down, and his face blanched. “This way,” he squeaked as his eyes retreated to the pavement and he motioned with his hand, “Please forgive—I mean, please follow me.”

“Thank you,” Papa said in a gentle voice, and the twins knew he meant to try to ease the boy’s nerves, but hearing his rumbling voice only seemed to make the boy even more tense.

“His legs aren’t really yellow,” Neyhira whispered to Thairyn as they followed him and their Papa through the gate, “It’s some sort of covering; see how it’s wrinkled there behind his knee?” Thairyn raised her brows in surprise and nodded.

Once they passed through, they were able to behold New Münshir palace in its full splendour. What might have been awe-inspiring to the Münshirlings, however, the young Dracoen princesses found rather intimidating. It was a great, towering structure of white stone, with sharp angles, great flying buttresses, towers, and crystalline spires. The lawn preceding it was flat and green, with fountains, statues, and manicured trees mirroring each other with perfect symmetry on either side. It all looked so... well, neither of the twins had a word for how it looked, and could only say later that they had never seen anything like it before.

They proceeded on to the great blue doors of the palace, which had a pair of stone-cut biireo wings spreading out on either side from them. Two more guards stood at these doors, and they opened them as the little boy and Dracoens approached to allow them entrance.

The inside of the palace was no less grand than the outside. The twins were astounded by the manner of architecture, the vaulted ceilings cut of solid stone—they had never even imagined a dwelling so large as this.  There were tapestries of New Münshir’s history on the walls—painted ones, not embroidered like Dracoen tapestries, and the style was, to Neyhira, very strange—dare she say it, even ugly. The air smelled sweet like spices. Thairyn marvelled at the great silver chandeliers hanging from the arched ceilings,

having never seen anything like them her entire life.

The floors of the palace were made of polished stone; white with marbled veins of shiikara patina. It was polished so smooth and flat that even the paved roads getting to this place paled in comparison, and it glistened like still water. Neyhira wondered if it might ripple if she leaned down to touch it. But the girls were not made to walk on this anomaly, for there were vivid blue carpets—etched with silver vines—laid down the centres of the hallways, which they were to tread upon. The carpets felt nice underfoot, but nothing like grass. Actually, the carpet sort of felt a little bit like a horse’s nose—nice, but bizarre.

They were led through several great hallways, and came at last to great golden doors—which were fashioned to resemble a great biireo’s folded wings—of the throne room. Guards standing here opened the doors to reveal what looked like a great hall; the door they had entered by was on the southern side, and the thrones (for there were three) were located on the northern side. The thrones were situated on a sort of indoor balcony, so to speak, high above the rest of the throne room so visitors would have to look up in order to see the King. Behind the thrones was a small golden door, and that was the only way other than the flight of stairs that was on either side of the balcony to reach the thrones. Thairyn noticed that the stairs were only wide enough to walk single file and were each guarded by soldiers. Here was where the smell of spices was strongest, for two fireplaces on either side of the balcony stairs, and another two on either side of the door they had entered by, were fuelled with Kiiaradi as well as other sweet-smelling things. The western walls and the wall behind the throne were covered in rich blue patina, with golden borders and silver etchings of vines and trees over the face of it. Intricately designed stained-glass windows lined the entirety of the eastern wall, allowing the bright morning Kiirlight to paint the room in fantastic colours.

There were many people gathered in the throne room; lavishly dressed men and women gathered below the balcony on either side of the room, some standing in elegant poses as though they were going to have a painting done, and others sitting gracefully on chairs and looking on with solemn faces at the Dracoens as they entered. One young lady, seated near one of the fireplaces, was strumming at a curious golden instrument (which the girls would later learn was called a harp) and playing a sweet, metallic tune.

And there was the Represent—at least, the twins assumed he was the Represent. He sat in the largest of the three thrones, and he certainly was not Gideon. He was a much older man, and taller besides. His hair was  brown and wavy. In Münshirling fashion for royalty, it was worn down to his shoulders. He had a goatee, a long nose, very pronounced cheek-bones and small brown eyes; these features made his pale face look thinner than it really was. He wore a deep shiikara blue robe, and had rich fabrics of silver and gold wrapped about his shoulders and draped across his form. Gracing his brow was a golden crown—this, like the doors, seemed to be fashioned after a biireo’s wings. As Karaa and his daughters approached the centre of the throne room, and their young escort had bowed and excused himself from the premises, the Represent stood and extended out his arms the way the statue of Mercy depicted—gently beckoning, palms out.

In return, Papa assumed the customary Dracoen greeting pose, his earfins erect and elbows pointed directly out from his sides. Thairyn and Neyhira did the same.

“Gem Chief,” the Represent said—and Thairyn was struck by how smooth and light his voice was, for by his face she had assumed it would be deeper. “Thank you for answering the summons so promptly.” His eyes fell to the twins, and he smiled. “And who may I ask are these?”

“These are my daughters, Thairyn and Neyhira,” Papa said.

“It is our very much pleasure to meet you, Represent Ventus,” Neyhira said.

“A pleasure,” Thairyn echoed, though it felt kind of forced. Tired and over-stimulated, she was feeling rather grumpy, and thus decided to dislike the Represent for using a word like ‘promptly’—furthermore, she did not like his face. And where was Gideon? She had come to see Gideon, not the Represent. She kept these thoughts to herself, of course, but she felt that no one could justly expect her to be totally cheerful and polite, given the circumstances.

“And to both of you,” the Represent said, “I had not expected the pleasure.”

Papa perked up his earfins and focused them towards the Represent. “Did you not?” he asked. “I had supposed... do forgive me, but where is Prince Gideon? Would he not care to see them? My daughters are well acquainted with the prince, you see, I had supposed that the summons had been partly for them on that account.”

“The Prince has already set sail for Zaine, I am afraid. Had you come yesterday, you might not have missed him. Still, all is well,” the Represent replied, sitting down in the throne again. “For he left me with the business he wanted attended to, and your daughters as well as anyone may be present to hear it.”

“...What business?” Papa asked slowly, looking a great deal more confused than Neyhira would have liked.

“I’ve always admired that about you, Gem Chief, no time for formalities, right to the point,” the Represent said with a smile that looked like it had been painted on, “Still, though, would not you care for a drink?” He waved his hand towards a pair of women standing by the wall—these not dressed quite as fine as the others—and they started at once towards the door.

Papa took a step forward and motioned his daughters behind him a little. “No, thank you,” he said, furrowing his brow. “What is this business?”

“Very well then,” the Represent said, “As I said, I’ve always admired you for that. But I’ll have one anyway.”

The two women, whom had paused and looked at the Represent questioningly when Karaa had rejected the offer of a drink, received a nod from him and continued out the door. In a moment they returned (and the Represent held his peace until then) with a golden goblet, which was presented to the Represent. He took it, sipped its contents, and let out a sigh. “Ah, delightful. Are you sure you won’t have one? No? Very

well.” With a nod and a wave, he sent both of the women back to the wall where they had been standing before. “The fact of the matter is, young Prince Gideon is looking to expand Münshir’s borders. Our country has become far too prosperous, so we simply must expand. You understand, of course.”

“No, I am afraid I do not,” Papa said. “How does this concern me, or my people that you would summon me?”

“Quite simply, really,” the Represent said, rubbing his thin hands together. “By order of the Future King, we will be expanding our borders into the Forest of Gems.”

Thairyn and Neyhira felt like their hearts had stopped short. There was a silence, for even the harpist had ceased to play. The Represent, however, seemed not to notice and lazily sipped from his goblet. After a moment, however, he blinked, knitted his brows, and looked inquiringly at the harpist. He snapped his fingers and she, as though awakened from a daze, startled and, albeit shaken, resumed plucking at the instrument.

“I beg your pardon?” Papa asked. “What do you mean, expand into the Forest of Gems?”

The Represent sighed. “Do you see this?” he asked, raising a red-tinted scroll. “This is an evacuation order. The Prince signed it himself. According to it, you and your people must leave Novangärd’s borders at once, or I shall send a force to clear your kind out.”

Papa listened with clenched fists and smouldering eyes. Thairyn and Neyhira, instinctively, moved closer to him. “Represent Ventus,” he said coldly after a moment, “You do realize that such an order violates ancient treaties between our people, do you not?”

“Ancient being the key point there, my friend,” the Represent said coolly.

“When you took the authority to stand in your brother’s place, you renewed the Oath of the Kings, did you not?” Papa asked.

“Yes, and your point would be?” the Represent asked, almost in amusement.

“You personally then vowed to renew the alliance between your people and mine. You vowed then that you recognize the Forest of Gems as the ancestral home of the Gem Clan, to be undisturbed by your people,” Papa replied, his voice strong and commanding attention. “You vowed that you would not trespass the promises of your fathers, and that you would respect the rights of the Gem Clan.”

Represent Ventus chuckled and rolled his head. “You are amusing, Gem Chief. The vows are simply traditional. But if you would like to quibble about traditions, then know that I also vowed to act for and to respect the Future King’s best interest above all else. It is his desire that we expand our territory inland. It’s quite reasonable, actually and—”

“This is not simply a matter of tradition,” Papa went on, “This is our home. We will defend it. That paper you cradle so preciously in your hand is binding to New Münshir only. My people are not under your jurisdiction, we are your allies. When your people first came to this land, our people helped yours settle, we taught you how to survive, we gave you the best land in all of Novangärd to build your city. Since that time our people have nurtured yours and have seen to your safety from our brethren, the Moon Clan. Your people may not remember it but we do; we remember the battles our fathers fought against our own kindred to keep your people safe. It is the very treaty you scorn that keeps the Moon Clan from your borders still.”

The Represent flicked his hand in boredom. “Karaa, I don’t really care,” he said, and he seemed as though he meant to go on, but Papa cut him off again.

“This is an act of war!” Papa exclaimed desperately, “Do you not see that?!”

“War?” the Represent scoffed. “Pray tell, what war would you bring us, Karaa?” He laughed, a horrible laugh, and looked to his court to echo it. Some of them forced a chuckle. “And the Moon Clan? Really? That is your threat? No one has so much as heard of a Moon Dracoen for at least a hundred years. No, my decree is final. Leave within three days... or my soldiers will clear you out. Simple as that.”

“Why you very much conceited—” Thairyn started, but Neyhira grabbed her sister’s muzzle and held it closed to keep her from speaking.

Karaa, fists clenched, took a step forward—a woman of the court cried out and everyone shot to their feet, guards forward with drawn weapons, courtiers back with fearful faces. But the Gem Chief did not attack. Instead, he spoke. “How can you be so foolish? You are making a grave error, Represent Ventus. You act not out of interest for your future king, but greed. What you think you will gain from this is beyond me, but I implore you to reconsider. You face a foe already at your head, and now seek to create one of a friend at your flank,” he said, “It is madness, as your people must see even if you cannot. Reconsider before you can take your actions back no more and they bring upon you such destruction as to make your fathers rue the day this land was given them.”

“Do you think you could fight us? You haven’t the time to prepare,” the Represent retorted venomously, “We strike three days hence. I warn you of what is to come out of the goodness of my heart, but the fate of the forest is sealed. My soldiers slaughter Vüls on regular occasion, and those are beasts armed to the teeth. What do you have to fight my forces at the Forest of Gems? Songs, perhaps?” He chuckled and shook his head. “You will be utterly defenceless, and slaughtered like animals. Is the forest worth the blood of your people? Think of them, Karaa, or, better still, think of your children.”

Papa stood not moving for a moment. Thairyn thought for the look in his eyes he would do something terrible. Instead he only spoke with a strange calm, “Represent of Münshir, remember this day, for the time may come when you shall regret it. I speak not of any sort of vengeance dealt by my own hand, for even if I am powerless to that end, the day shall come when we all must answer for our dealings. I implore you, again, to reconsider your decision before you can take it back no more, for now may be your last chance. But, as you have said, that is all I can do.”

He turned then, without so much as a nod, and, gathering his daughters in front of him, he left. Behind

them, a deadening silence remained.

“Miss Marreid,” the Represent said casually to the harpist after a moment, standing from his throne, “Were you chosen amongst music-makers to merely eavesdrop in the court?”

The poor girl blanched and shook her head. “No, Your Majesty, I was wondering—this is such a surprising—we did not expect—”

“Then please,” the Represent said tersely, looking at her with raised eyebrow, “Continue to play.” He sighed softly and rubbed his temple as though it pained him. Then he started down the stairs to join the court. As he did so, he snapped his fingers to call the attention of the pair of maids by the wall. “Go and inform the cooks that I mean to have a great feast tonight, and all of the captains and generals within the city are invited to attend.”

“Yes, sire,” the eldest of the pair said, and both bowed before leaving the room.

Conversation resumed, just a little at a time, as members of the court, guests, and entertainers began to discuss quietly what had just occurred. The quiet act shattered the atmosphere left by the Dracoen Chief, and soon people began to talk in earnest. Some gathered about the Represent, curious to learn more about his decision—to whom he responded haughtily and with whom he laughed.

An elderly fellow by the name of Lord Farrin watched quietly from his seat under the thrones. He looked to his left, where sat a few others remaining of Aurelius’s original court, and they returned anxious glances. The woman sitting nearest him gave him a look, a question... and he returned a knowing nod. With a sigh, Lord Farrin stood and quietly made his way towards the Represent.

“Good riddance, I say!” a man standing near him was saying, “I must say I for one shall sleep easier tonight, knowing those muzzle-faced beasts shall soon be sent away.”

“I do hope they go peacefully,” said a woman in the group quietly. “Oh, Represent, you don’t suppose they’ll fight us, do you? I simply hated how that creature said to you that you’d regret this day—there was a foul look in his eye.” She shuddered.

“Quite right,” said the man, “Not much better than Vüls—if they’ve ever been, these certainly were a sorry sample.”

The Represent gave a sideways smile. “Lady Callins, my dear, you worry too much. What shall they do, pray? Sing me to death?” And he laughed, and because he did, they did also. He raised his goblet and it was filled with wine by a servant.

Lord Farrin stood by, waiting for some recognition by the Represent.

Represent Ventus did glance in his direction, and he looked somewhat annoyed, but he drank a draught from his goblet and smiled at his other company as though he meant to ignore him—even if only for now.

“I don’t think we should take their threats lightly, Your Highness,” said another man, whose face was grim and eyes dark. “You’ve announced your grievances, and now I fear for any trader that should travel by the east roads.”

“Nonsense,” Represent Ventus said. “They wouldn’t dare. This will be as easy a conquest as Münshir has ever known. It’s been at least three thousand years since a Dracoen even touched a weapon.”

“You don’t need weapons to snap a little man’s neck,” the grim man stated, “I’ve seen it done by Vüls—take a prisoner and he gets loose, even disarmed, he’ll down fifteen soldiers in fewer minutes that way. And it’ll take more than six well-placed arrows before he’s downed himself.”

“Take care, Captain Merr, you’re spoiling my mood,” the Represent said grimly. “Why don’t you see to it that the other captains within the city are informed of the upcoming feast, hmm?”

“Sire, I only meant that—”

The Represent waved him off and looked uninterested.

The captain pressed his lips in a grim line. “Yes, Sire,” he said. He bowed and turned on his heel to leave.

The Represent looked up. He sighed. “Yes, Lord Farrin, what is it?” he asked at last. He waved off his other company and said to them in a low voice, “This will only take a moment.”

“Sire,” Lord Farrin said, stepping closer and taking the place of those that had gone. Quietly he said, “Prince Gideon did not sign that order. The other members of the court and I have discussed it; no one has heard of—let alone agreed to—this course of action. Where did this even come from? It’s not like you to go and do something this drastic without counselling with the court. And it’s illegal. What are you playing at?”

The Represent raised his brows and lowered his eyelids. “Playing at?” he repeated quietly. Then, in his casual voice he continued, “Well, Lord Farrin, it has come to my attention that the court and perhaps many other things are in need of a change for my young nephew’s benefit. He takes the throne within a month, and I shall see to it that the Kingdom is in proper order when he does.”

“But this—!”

“This expansion is necessary. The people have long been disquieted by the habitation of Dracoens just beyond the capital city’s borders. Long have I listened to cries for something to be done about it; should the Prince take the throne and still no action be taken, who is to say that trouble will not befall him from their frustrations?” the Represent said. “I would see no harm come to my innocent nephew due to my own negligence.”

“Sire, Dracoens are not like Vüls,” Lord Farrin said seriously. “Nothing need be done about them—they have been our allies since the ancient days, and never have they brought harm to us. The complaints you speak of have been few and far between. Further, you may be right that they are not creatures of war, not naturally anyway, but they can fight if backed into a corner and many lives will be lost needlessly. The Gem Chief is right; we are already at war, why create an enemy where there was once a friend?”

The Represent sighed and looked deeply annoyed. “You bore me, Lord Farrin,” he said after a moment. “But I fear my disdain for you is not come by the fact that you are the driest old norbulb that ever stank up

the court. I have expressed to you my concerns for Prince Gideon’s fate as king, and you did not so much as blink. Need I remind you, I legally have the power to remove members of the court if I ascertain that their presence conflicts with or hinders Prince Gideon’s best interest.” His eyes wandered past Lord Farrin, towards where a group of young maidens stood conversing and giggling together—though, most particularly at one amongst them who stood apart for her grace and quiet manner—and he smiled. “And, quite honestly, it would not hurt my feelings at all if someone more interesting took your place, at that.”

“Sire, if you—”

Represent Ventus looked at him sharply. “If I what?” he asked, pulling that sideways smile again, “Then you’ll what? Lord Farrin, you and I both know that subtly has never been one of my strong points. I believe I’ve made my position very clear. Do try to remember in your place, else by some misfortune you should lose it, hm?”

“Papa, why is Represent Ventus doing this to us? We’ve never done anything bad to him,” Neyhira asked softly as she walked, head down. Not much had been said since leaving New Münshir, but now, as the Forest of Gems came into view and the Kiir sank towards the west, she felt a little more at ease to speak.

Papa answered without looking at her, his voice was calm, yet at the same time filled with anger. “He does this out of greed, and to satisfy his own lust for power.” He shook his head sadly. “Regardless, it is true what he said; his people do not understand us; many of them fear us, some of them even hate us.”

“Why?” Neyhira asked.

“Because they do not understand, they fear. Because they fear, they hate. Yes, we have done nothing to them, but hate needs no reason to destroy another,” Papa said, “Many will hate and fear you in the course of your lives, my little ones, and that can be a terrible thing in the hands of those who also lack compassion. These cannot exist in the heart at the same time. You must see always that your heart is filled with compassion, even towards those that would hurt you. Hate is a burden that manipulates and destroys its bearer. Be compassionate. Then you will free and at peace, come what may.”

Tears filled Thairyn’s eyes. “Well, what about Gideon? I thought he was my friend!”

“I do not understand all things,” Papa said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “But the Represent’s words to not agree with the Prince’s past actions. It may very well be that the Represent is doing this on his own accord while the Prince is away, and, if that is true, we may have hope upon his return for things to be made right.”

Thairyn sniffled as quietly as she could—she did not want to sound like a cry-baby. She looked up at her father’s face. “Do you think so?” she asked.

“I do.”

“It makes better sense,” Neyhira said. “I mean, Gideon always seemed like he really liked us. So why would he make us go away, anyway?” And then, her voice rising in anger, she added, “You know what? I really, really don’t like the Represent!”

Papa gave her a look. Thairyn raised an eyebrow. It seemed strange, hearing Neyhira sound genuinely angry... Thairyn had not heard her sound like that since—well, Thairyn could not quite remember a time that Neyhira had ever sounded like that.

Neyhira sighed softly, ducking under the gaze of her father. “I don’t hate him... I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to him... but I don’t have to like him to have compassion for him, do I?”

“Do you feel as though you have compassion in your heart, right now, Neyhira?” Papa asked softly.

Neyhira was quiet.

“How do you feel right now?”

Neyhira mumbled something that Thairyn could not catch. Papa must not have heard her either, for he pressed, “Neyhira?”

Neyhira sighed. “I feel tight, and angry, and sad,” she said at last. “And I kind of would like to hit him in the nose.”

Papa pulled her under his arm and hugged her close. “I’m angry too. But we must not let that anger get the better of us, little one. We must try to forgive.” He rubbed both her shoulder and Thairyn’s. “Do not fear, my little ones. We will be all right. Come now, let us speak of lighter things—it would not do to bring this gloom home with us in time for the Naming Ceremony, would it?”

“No, I suppose not,” Neyhira said.

“Haven’t you any questions about New Münshir? I was sure the two of you would have a slew of them for me to answer on our trek home. Now is as good a time as any, is it not?” Papa prompted encouragingly.

Thairyn and Neyhira looked at each other. Then Thairyn sighed. “Everything about Münshir is so strange... and I’m tired.”

“Come now,” Papa said, “Don’t be like that.”

Neyhira pulled a sideways face and pressed her lips together. Looking up at her father, she relented, “Well, I suppose I have one. Why are Münshirlings all the same colour?”

“The same colour?” Papa asked, looking at her.

“Well, yes,” Neyhira said. “They were all of them brownish, like the sand and rocks. I saw some who had hair that was so dark that it was almost black, and others so light it looked the colour of sand, and every shade of brown in between, but there were not even one blue-haired Münshirling, nor green, yellow, purple, nor red. I thought maybe their skin was all about the same colour because they don’t have any scales, but I can’t imagine why they don’t have any colour in their hair.”

“Ah,” Papa said. “You see, Münshirlings only have one pigment. There are many different things that

give living things colour, and we call these things pigments. The leaves of plants are coloured green by the Food, called klorofyll by Münshirlings. Münshirlings, their skin, eyes, and hair, are coloured by something we call the Ink, and they call mélanin. We also have the Ink, but only in our skin. That is why the corners and rims of your eyes, lips, and the pads of your hands and feet are black—you have no scales in those places. The more Ink a person has, the darker they are. The less, the lighter. But Glits are what colour your fur, feathers, and scales. You have tens of thousands of tiny Glits in each strand of hair, and even more in each scale, so tiny that you would not be able to see a single Glit by itself. The Münshirlings have no unified name for Glits, and call them by individual names according to what element makes what colour; these are güanin, carbón, and shiikara. Güanin makes you white, carbón makes you black, and shiikara makes many colours.”

“How does shiikara make many colours?” Thairyn asked, fingering the shiikara chain of her necklace.

“I thought it only makes blue,” Neyhira said.

“The blue you’re speaking of, Neyhira, is called patina, and it is an entirely different thing,” Papa said, “That’s when the shiikara tarnishes, creating a protective covering from the weather, which is blue. Shiikara itself is capable of reflecting every colour of light, which is what makes it look like silver. As Glit, the size and shape of tiny shiikara particles determine what light is reflected back to your eye, and in consequence, what colour you see. Similarly, the carbón Glits absorb all light, and appear black. Güanin reflects all light, and appears white.”

“So what Glit makes my scales shimmer like a rainbow?” Neyhira asked.

Papa smiled. “No Glit. The rainbow shimmer is caused by the surface texture of your scales, which breaks up white light. You get that from the Gem Elder.”

“Oooh.” Neyhira smiled a little. She turned her hand over in the Kiirlight and admired the rainbow sheen of her scales.

“Just as the same threads may be used to create a tapestry or a kyntin, the threads of life are oftentimes the same,” Papa said, looking ahead, “It is the arrangement of such threads that makes us look different, or the same. Your scales are white, Neyhira, and Thairyn’s are black. However, you both possess the same Glits. The difference is, your scales display primarily the güanin Glits, while Thairyn’s scales display the carbón. Shiikara is the predominant Glit in your blue scales and hair, and it is also what colours our eyes—though yours are green and Thairyn’s are purple.”

“Papa, if Münshirlings only have the Ink, what makes their eyes blue?” Thairyn asked. “That guard Neyhira and I talked to at the gate had blue eyes, blue like the sky, and not brownish at all.”

“Exactly,” Papa said, smiling teasingly.

“Huh?” Thairyn tilted her head to one side and gave him a look.

“Blue like the sky. You said it yourself,” Papa said. “That watchman’s eyes were blue for the same reason that the sky is blue; tiny particles, a little Ink in the case of a Münshirling’s eyes, scatter the light so that it appears blue. Do you understand?”

Neyhira and Thairyn shook their heads slowly.

Papa chuckled. “I must show you how it works for learning time, then. We can make a glass of water look blue in the light, even if it is not really blue. All it takes is tiny particles to scatter the light.”

“Magia,” Thairyn said, giving Neyhira a knowing look.

“And blood is what makes Münshirlings look pinkish, right?” Neyhira asked, looking at her father. She knew that, but she wanted to hear him say that she was right. “We can see it because they don’t have any scales, right?”

“That’s part of the reason,” he said. “If your scales had no Glit, and your skin had little to no Ink, you would be pinkish too. You do not see much pink in a Galdan.”

Neyhira looked at Thairyn, who returned a confused expression. “What is a Galdan?” Thairyn asked, looking up at Papa.

“As there are Gem and Moon Clans, there are also different tribes of non-dracoen people. The Galdans are human, like the Münshirlings, with much more Ink in their skin and hair. Prince Gideon’s mother, Queen Lisawé, was Galdan.”

“Oh,” Neyhira said. That explained why Gideon’s skin was so much darker than the other Münshirlings.

“But Papa, Gideon’s eyes aren’t blue like the sky,” Thairyn said after a moment. “His are dark bluish-purplish, like a flower. So how are his eyes blue?”

“The Galdans have shiikara Glits in their eyes, as we do. He must have gotten that from his mother as well,” Papa said. “The Galdans also have a reddish form of the Ink in addition to the brownish Ink, which Münshirlings do not, thus they may have auburn or even gold hair.”

“What about silver?” Neyhira asked.

“Humans tend to lose the colour of their hair when they get old, so it may become silver or white with age,” Papa said.

Neyhira and Thairyn exchanged glances. Then Neyhira looked up at her father. “But Papa, Nya’s not old, and he has silver hair.”

“Does he?” Papa asked. “That’s peculiar. I’ve not heard of that before.”

“Papa?” Thairyn said after a moment. “I have one more question.”

“What is it, little one?”

Thairyn hesitated. “...We're not really going to leave the Forest, are we?”