"Long ago, there was such a thing as magic. Not magic one can feel when staring at a beautiful sight, or the magic that happens when two people meet each other. No--this magic was special. It could make the weak strong and the strong cowardly.

'This magic existed inside the hearts of many. Only a few knew how to unlock it, and those few grew and taught others. It became a beautiful thing, with people using magic daily. They could heal small wounds, summon forth objects from the other side of town, even make rain fall from the sky.

"But, as always, there were those who feared it.

"Misused it.

"Those who misused the magic were declared rulers out of fear. The people who could not unlock their power became terrified of those who could. Magic users became outcasts, shoved away from friends and family. Brother turned against brother, father against son, mother against daughter.

"Almost overnight, the magic users became extinct.

"There were a few who hid, never to be seen again, until the need would arise.

"And the need would arise."

"Clair!"

"Magic has not been seen in the five kingdoms since. Those who can use it wait impatiently in the shadows for the day they are needed. Then, they will come to the aid of their countrymen. They will disregard their hidden lives.

"They will win."

"Clair, come on!"

I flipped the pages with my mother's handwriting scrawled all over them face-down.

"Give me a second!" I shouted. Ink from the pen I held dripped down onto the page.

Shoot.

I would be thoroughly murdered if I messed up any more of my mother's writing. No one really knew I did this. It was only me and the dewdrops on the window--when I did it in the morning, anyway.

My pen flew over the paper, scribbling notes from my dream down on the page. I'd never been so... wordy before. And this wordiness had gone on for two years.

Two years.

Hard to believe it'd been that long since the cause of this.

When I was fourteen, my family and I'd gone to the king's castle. Kir was a good friend of my mother's, so we'd spend Christmas there each year.

The first night, there was...

My hand trembled. I moved the pen, moved it away from the paper before I ruined it.

Under my hand was the worst note I'd made so far. The worst part of my dream.

"The family dies."

Except in the dream, it was my father. My mother. My brother.

The pen fell.

I gasped, the small noise startling me to no end. My whole body shook as I reached down to grab it.

As my fingers grazed the surface, a jolt of frigid cold air shot through my veins.

It was gone as fast as it came.

"Clair, Kir is here. Your brother's already spoken to him and now he's asking where you are. At least come down for a second."

My father walked into my bedroom, scratching his head. His blonde hair had been cut short for what seemed like the first time in his life and he hated it.

Too late, I snatched a blanket over the paper. "I'm coming, I swear."

Dad tilted his head to the side, brown eyes laughing. "What is that?"

Heat pretty much attacked my cheeks. "It's nothing, Daddy. I'm just scribbling stuff."

He screams, he cries, he dies.

My throat tightened. Without thinking about it, I stood and wrapped my arms around him.

He did the same. "Not that I'm complaining, but what's this about?"

Oh, not much. Only that I dreamed everyone died.

I let go and smiled. "No reason. Tell Kir I'll be there in a minute, please."

My father kissed the top of my forehead and walked away.

I'd take any hug I could get.

Two years ago, I was faced with the reality of possibly not seeing anyone ever again.

Arians weren't hit the hardest--that was the nightmare. It was Dulcia that got the worst.

Any kingdom could have gotten the worst.

I didn't know what the full story was--no one did. As much as the king of Dulcia said, it was compromised of people from each country who wanted to take over.

Being trapped inside Arium's main castle for a week wasn't anyone's idea of fun though.

And that's where I was. Separated from everyone.

Reason why Kir decided to come over to our house for the rest of his life, instead of the other way around

I sighed and uncovered the stray pages. Black ink stained the sheets, but thankfully, not any of my mother's handwriting.

Not feeling like moving the stuff, I just got up and left. Before going downstairs, I ran my hand over the balcony.

I started down the steps. Funny how I used to be scared of that thing.

Raoul was the one to greet me when I reached the bottom.

By dragging me across the wood floor and into the dining room.

I smacked him when he let go. "What was that about?"

Not that I was particularly mad. It felt like ice skating.

Raoul brought his head closer to mine and hissed, "One, it's the big social thing we do each year and the last one I'm doing until I join Arium's army, so I can be as excited as I want to be. Two, sir "King" brought a guest."

A guest?

"What kind of guest?" I mumbled.

'Social' stuff was not my idea of fun.

Raoul shrugged. He nodded his head to the front, toward the man with graying hair ahead. "Go ask him yourself."

"I don't want to--"

"I found Clair!"

I'm going to kill him.

Kir looked away from Mom, who was laughing at something he said. In less than a second, he was in front of me, a crazy grin on his face that didn't match the wrinkles on his skin.

Raoul was gone before he came.

The older man held out his hand. "How are you, Clair?"

I shook it. "Oh, you know. I'm here."

It was then I noticed the amount of ink on me that had rubbed off on the king.

He saw it too. "It's not a big deal," he whispered. "I'll tell your mother I was attacked by an ink monster. That's somewhat accurate, right?"

I couldn't help but giggle. "Pretty much."

He let go of my hand and waved for someone to come over. "I brought a guest this time. It's his first time out of a castle, so be prepared for..." His arms waved in the air like a crazy person's.

"I'll remember that."

A boy stopped next to Kir, staring at him. His hair was dark, dark brown, his hands shoved into pockets so only the pinky finger on each hand stuck out.

"You called?"

"Yes." Kir gestured toward me. "This is the girl I told you about. She's about your age, and likes to write too, although," he lowered his voice, "she pretends no one knows about her stories."

Maybe I could strangle the king too.

"Entertain the lost boy-king for me, Clair?"

Before I could protest, Kir was gone.

My eyes shut. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "Kir does that too often."

No answer.

I cracked one open so enough light could come in. "Still alive there?"

The boy was frozen, frozen like a block of wood. His mouth gaped open at me, his brown eyes wild. 

"She brought them all back," he whispered. 

I doubt he even knew what he was saying.

"Something wrong, Woodboy?"

The name shook him from his trance. "You're seriously calling a king 'Woodboy,' Curly-hair?"

King. Great. Awesome.

Well, I couldn't dig a grave more than I had already.

"I think 'Curly-hair' is a bit too long, don't you? How about just plain ol' 'Curly' instead?"

For a second, he looked like he'd been punched. Then, the boy nodded.

"So, why are you here, Oh Mighty King?"

A clang from across the room made us both jump. His fists clenched as he hovered on the tips of his toes, ready to run.

"I'm, uh, Dulcian," he squeaked after a moment. "My parents were killed in the fighting. My mother and father both chose to fight instead of hide." He shrugged. "I used to be mad at them, but they did it for me. Luschon's leader, Arioch, he got me back in my feet. I met Kir about a year later, and he's helped take care of me since."

Oh.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I didn't mean to pry."

Or get someone's life story when I just wanted to know why he was tagging along with Kir.

"It's no big deal." The boy brought his hand up to the top of his red collar and loosened it. A light scar shone against his skin.

"You were hurt?"

He nodded, his eyes downcast. Memories flashed through his eyes, seeable, but not shareable. "Yeah. Lived though. A few weren't as lucky."

A few, meaning his parents. His friends.

He stared at the black ink splotches on my hand. "Do you write?"

It was my turn to be closed off. "Mmhm. I have weird dreams, so my outlet is writing."

"So do I, but my dreams are more nightmare-ish."

"Yeah. Same."

I gulped. Talking was never my strong suit and it seemed it wasn't his either.

Kir bounded his way back to us. With enough force to knock someone into next week, he slapped the boy's back. "How are you two doing?"

The young king winced. His hand darted to his side. "We're good. Talking. When's food?"

Kir raised an eyebrow. He looked back and forth between us. "I'll go check."

When he left, Woodboy stuck out his tongue in an over-exaggerated grimace. "Ow."

I laughed. "Did he hurt that bad?"

He grinned. "Well, when you're still having problems from being stabbed a few times and a giant man with too much energy hits you in the back, it's bound to hurt."

Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed Kir with a plate.

"Come on, I think food's ready."

We started walking over, albeit slowly.

"You know, I never used to think I'd like a life like this," the boy said. "It's calm. Peaceful. Normal. It reminds me of what it was like before all of this." He gestured toward his chest where the scar was.

I nodded. "I agree with you. I used to want more, but simplicity is a blessing, at this point."

Ahead of us, Raoul piled enough meat onto his plate so it was a mountain.

"So, are you going back to Dulcia after all this?"

"Yeah." He looked down, away from everything and toward the wall. "The whole 'king' title pretty much requires me to. I think I leave the day after tomorrow."

"Oh." For some reason, a flicker of disappointment hit me. I guess it was because I finally had someone to talk to.

"You know, I don't really have many people my age in Dulcia. There's all kinds of things that are different there than here. I mean, we have... ice. And candy."

I laughed. "Sounds exciting. If you're trying to convince me to visit, you had me at 'ice'. Arium's as hot as sauna half the year, so cold is always welcome. Although--" I stared out the window. White flecks of snows fell from the sky. After we ate, I'd more than likely go see how many people I could pummel with the stuff. "It's snowing now."

A bit of realization flickered over his face. "Ah," he breathed. "That makes more sense now."

"What?" Had I said something? "What makes more sense?"

His eyes widened. He hadn't realized he spoke aloud. "Nothing. It's nothing you'd know about."

Bap!

The boy rubbed his arm, a look of surprise written all over his face. "What was that for?"

"You can't do that to me!" I laughed. "No riddles, Mister King..."

I paused. "You know, I think we're in the situation that you know my name and I have no idea what yours is."

"I'm a mystery," he laughed.

My arms crossed. "Come on. You know I'll just ask Kir. He'll tell the whole world if he has to. You really want it to come to that?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head so fast a lock of hair fell into his eyes.

"Well?"

The boy swallowed, and with a look he hadn't made before, one mixed between sadness and excitement, he answered.

"William. I'm William."

I held out a hand for him to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, William."