Chapter One
"You know, I never truly understood what it means when one of us dies—if we die, or if we are able to transcend... but what is truly the difference between the two?" Clara asked, moving a piece of white hair from her face as a red streak escaped past her ear. Clara stared at the three headstones before her. She glanced up as the wind rustled the tree she sat beneath. The breeze brought back a flood of memories: battles, adventures, politics—the likes of which she hadn't completely understood at the time.
"Father, I know what you would say. There is no reason for me to cry. But how can I not? I mean, look at today… today I have to go to a stupid banquet at the palace. It's so fucking stupid—oops, sorry. That was a bit of Uncle's influence. It won't happen again, Father, I swear to the almighty Draca..." Clara said as she touched her belly. "No more tears. I don't want to hear Brother's incessant teasing any more than I have to. And Uncle, don't worry—I remember every etiquette lesson you and Auntie taught me. So there's no need to worry. Most of those pompous idiots think I'm just a warrior with these amazing powers, but they don't know that I am a queen. I've been trained by the best of the best. We are welcoming the elves into the kingdom officially. Big Brother, you would like the sound of that. You wouldn't show it, but I know it would get a smile out of you."
Clara smiled and stood up. "I hear you, Roan. Really, you must train more if you wish to sneak up on me," she said to the tree, before a man in a black suit—with the same white hair and red streak as hers—stepped from around it.
"I do not think any amount of training would help me sneak up on you, Mistress. I came to inform you that it is time for us to depart, if we are to get you dressed and arrive on time..." Roan said, glancing at his pocket watch.
"Yes, yes, fine. And it's just the two of us—you don't have to call me Mistress!" Clara huffed, turning her back to him.
Roan sighed a little, but smiled. "I am sorry... Clara," he said.
She squealed and grabbed his arm. "Good job! Come on, we should get a move on."
Fifteen Years Earlier
A giant, lumbering figure barreled through the forest, glancing behind him.
"I've lost them—thank Draca." The large Cragonan let out a sigh of relief, his tail wagging and knocking down a couple of smaller trees in the process. He began to march forward through the densely packed forest.
"Of all days for my hair to change... Draca, I follow your will, but the Church does not seem to understand... They think this affliction is a curse. But I know—I heard your voice the moment that I... died. I heard you speak to me. Your true name..." he said, clenching his fist.
"Ignore it. My priority is getting out of here for now—until I can return and convince them that I am innocent and this is all according to the great plan of Draca..." the giant said as he marched on.
Three days passed, and the giant sat in front of a campfire. "It was easier to say that at the time... but now I have no idea where I need to go, or even how to persuade the Church..." Ycius sighed, looking down at the ground.
His head perked up as the scent of blood filled his nostrils. "Blood and smoke?" He stood up and looked around, following the scent through the forest.
"Draca teaches that we must help those in need, no matter the time or situation! The Draca priest is on his way!" Ycius bellowed, leaping through the edge of the tree line.
A horrid sight awaited him—an entire village ablaze.
He shook his head, steeling himself for the horrors before him. He began to run through the village, yelling for any survivors. "Is anyone here? Yell out if you can hear my voice!" he called, looking around. The smoke stung his eyes, the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils.
"I don't think anyone could have survived—" he was cut off by a feeling pulsing through his body.
He heard the scream even before it reached his ears.
A child was crying out. His body moved on its own, a force pushing him toward the cries that resonated through his entire being.
"Draca, this has to be your will," he thought, continuing to run until he found a pile of rubble—where a house must have once stood. Ycius began to rummage through it until he found a small form, writhing, protected by a veil of dark energy.
Ycius was confused. Why would Draca send him here? To rescue a human child?
"If it is your will..." he muttered, lifting the child. Soot covered her rosy cheeks, mixing with the tears streaming down her face. To his surprise, the little one seemed to calm down once she was in his arms.
He looked up at the sky. "We need to move. This smoke is not good for you," he said as he wrapped her more securely in the blanket.
He walked off toward the tree line, vanishing into the night.
Three Years Later
"Papa! I have returned—with food so you do not die!" a small white-haired child exclaimed, bursting into the cabin with the skinniest carrots in her right hand and grass in her left.
Ycius looked up from his carving.
"Ahh, well, thank you so much. That will surely keep us fed for years!" he said, patting her head. The carrot was a leftover from their latest harvest, and the grass—he figured she must have just grabbed a handful from somewhere. Still, she was trying and showed some survival instincts. He couldn't fault the little one.
He gently petted her head and smiled.
Ycius looked at the child, amazed at how fast she was growing up. She had been so tiny when he first found her in that burning, collapsed house. Granted, she was still small, but now she could walk and move independently.
"Shall we finish our magic lesson from earlier? Remember how I told you everyone is born with one of three types of cores—a circle, a triangle, or a square. Those with a circle can only use spells like the ones in your storybooks: throwing fireballs or making pretty flowers. Those with a triangle can use spells that make their bodies stronger and faster. However, those with a square can control a wider range of magic—not as powerful as the other two, but more versatile. It can be used in many different ways. But then there are special people, people like us, who possess stars for a core."
Ycius explained as he picked her up.
"Yeah! Star belly make us strong!" she said, patting her stomach.
"Exactly. We do not have the same limitations as everyone else. We can utilize all forms of magic—although I am more aligned with a triangle. We haven't been able to find what aligns best with you yet, but that's fine. You're still young. You have time to—Clara, go into the hiding place I showed you. Now."
Ycius set her down. His expression was grim. Clara knew he only told her to go there when things were about to get scary and loud.
He grabbed his axe from where it leaned on the wall. He felt something in his chest—the same force he felt when he first found her. There was another reaper nearby.
He stepped outside, axe prepared for anything. What he wasn't expecting was the sound of a flute—soft and swift as it carried on the wind.
Ycius barely had time to react before a blade was inches from his throat. A sharp whistle and metallic ting rang out as his axe clashed against the blade. Standing at the other end was a man of caramel complexion, covered in tattered robes, wielding a most peculiar sword—the blade had holes in it, along with smooth, curved edges.
"Well then, I didn't expect that. Now why would that annoying soul of mine bring me here, of all places, to a lizard...?" a cocky smile shown under the hood.
Ycius's eyes widened. This man had the same white hair with a red streak peeking from beneath it.
The two stared at one another, their blades locked in a struggle