Like every Saturday morning in the quiet town of Willowrift, my sister Liira and I wake up to find our adopted parents passed out in their room from drinking the night before. Unlike most of our friends in the orphanage, Liira and I were very fortunate to be adopted together. Our parents died nine years ago trying to hide me, my power, and Ashveil from the people who sought out to kill people like me. I guess I always knew my powers were rare, I just never knew that they would change my life into something I never expected.
I rise from bed and head to the closet, where a beautifully patterned skirt hangs waiting for me. I pull it out along with a cropped top—an outfit that's sure to earn a few lingering glances from the boys we pass. After slipping it on, I head to the bathroom where Liira stands looking in the mirror fixing her hair. I undo my heatless curls, shake them out, and fix my side part. My long, dark hair tumbles over my shoulders in soft waves, framing a face both striking and solemn. My sharp brows and full lips hint at both strength and sorrow; features I've never quite grown into, yet somehow wear like armor. Beside me, Liira fusses with her own hair; light brown curls streaked with natural highlights that twist like sunlit ribbons.
Zephera padded silently behind Liira, as they head downstairs to make breakfast, her talons making the faintest clicks against the worn wooden stairs. Morning light streamed through the windows, catching the shimmer of her sea-glass blue scales and making her look like a creature spun from mist and sky. Her slender frame moved with feline grace, wings folded close to her sides, and her long tail swayed in rhythm with each step. As she followed Liira into the kitchen, her piercing icy-blue eyes scanned the space with quiet alertness, a silent guardian cloaked in beauty and wind-wrought power.
"Elena," Liira calls out half an hour later, "breakfast is ready."
"OK, on my way," I shout back, putting the finishing touches on my makeup.
I have never been good at cooking. Once, I tried making the simplest thing, for example, a grilled cheese, and the cheese ended up on the towel next to the stove. After that, Liira became the cook in the house.
I walked down to the kitchen to see her serving pancakes onto two plates. I can't remember the last time Mr. and Mrs. Varricks sat down and ate breakfast with us. They're always sleeping and don't wake up until late in the afternoon with a horrible hangover, just to drink and party later that night.
"Liira, these look amazing!! What's the occasion?"
"Oh, no occasion," she said with a little laugh, "I just figured that you wanted something other than eggs for breakfast since we restocked on flour."
This town hasn't had flour for months, ever since the towns down south started reporting a "shortage." But we all know that is not the real reason. We suspect something else is going on, though none of the government officials want to admit it.
We are located in the northwest part of the kingdom Aetherra, known for being born with magical creatures. Liiras creature is a Windwhisper Drake named Zephera. She gifted Liira the ability to fly, summon cutting gales, detect lies through emotional shifts in the air, send whispers across long distances, and the ability to deflect small attacks. They call powers like hers Aetherweaving.
Ashveil, my bonded creature, is a Mythfire Phoenix known for giving the rarest ability. Mine made its first appearance when I was around seven, and since then, I've been learning to control and conceal my power over the past couple of years. Ashveil gave me the ability to command creatures from forgotten realms like phoenixes, leviathans, specter-wolves, and more. They call it Wyrdcall.
Most kids in Willowrift form their bond during a Naming Moon, a ceremony where their creature chooses them. But for me, it was like I called upon it.
After Liira and I finish eating, I begin to put the dishes away and she heads upstairs to finish getting ready for the day.
Liira and I are five years apart— she's thirteen, and I'm just two months from eighteen— but most days, it doesn't feel like it. Maybe it's because we've raised each other more than anyone's raised us. We've shared every scraped knee, every whispered nightmare, every silent morning like this one— just the two of us against a world that rarely notices we exist.
Shortly after, she comes down in a flowy summer dress reaching as far as her knees and her hair in two perfectly done dutch braids extending to her mid back.
She reaches the last step before she finishes putting the back to her earrings like she's heading somewhere far more exciting than our usual Saturday run.
We begin to leave the house, making sure to lock the door behind us. We get about as far as fifteen feet from the door when Liira says, "That's strange," pulling a heavy royal-like envelope from the rusted mailbox. I glance over half expecting another tax demand, but…
"That is weird" I say moving closer over to get a better view of the envelope.
The wax holding the opening of the letter wasn't red, like all the other letters we receive…it was black and it seems to be imprinted with the raised outline of a crown phoenix. I have never seen nor heard of a stamp that color like that one before. Its got to be addressed to someone else? Right?
"Elena," Liira says, holding it closer to me. "It's addressed to you."
"What? No? It can't be."
"It says it right here; look," she says pointing.
She's right. It has my name on it. Wait. I take a step back, scanning the empty street. No neighbors, no watchers…but my skin tingles. I swear I hear wings, distant and heavy, circling above. My hands tremble as I reach for the letter, every part of me screaming that this isn't a coincidence. My stomach stinks. No one should know my name. I made sure to keep my name secret over the years. I reach for it and carefully open the letter. It begins with:
Dear Miss Solace,
This letter serves as formal notice that you have been selected to participate in the Ember Trials by direct order of the Royal Government of Aetherra. Your unique manifestation of Wyrdcall and the confirmed presence of a phoenix familiar have deemed your inclusion both necessary and non-negotiable.
You are hereby granted 24 hours to arrange your affairs and bid farewell to your loved ones. At the conclusion of this period, you will be taken into custody by the Trial Wardens, who have been dispatched to escort you to the trial grounds.
We trust you will face what lies ahead with strength and resolve.
With solemn regards,
Office of the Royal Tribunal
Government of Aetherra
I finish reading as my heart begins to pound so fast, I feel sick. Liira leans in after reading over mind shoulder and begins to start crying.
"Liira it's ok. We will be ok," I say trying to calm her down.
I still can't wrap my head around the idea that I have been selected for the Ember Trials. I give Liira a gentle hug when flames begin to roar. I turn my head facing Ashveil as the phoenix steps out from the shadows, her fiery feathers blazing in warm shades of crimson and gold. She take a deep huff and begins saying in a deep, feminine voice,
"They found us."