Year 585, on the Eleventh Day of the Eighth Month

“This land houses many secrets, Cateline,” an Elven servant by the name of Alleyn muttered. The two of them stood outside in the garden, picking some vegetables for the dinner Cateline was supposed to be preparing for. Instead of tidying up, she had spent the last hour out in the gardening patches with Alleyn, collecting heads of lettuce and a few dozen carrots.

“You know an awful lot about this kingdom’s past. A historian, are you?”

The young Cateline was beaming towards the elf, her nose crinkling as she watched the man stumble with his basket of vegetables.

“Not quite, young one. Past those mountains,” the Elf said with a toothy grin, his index finger leading her eyes to the icy peaks a few miles out, “is an entirely new world. Dragons, giants, cyclops.”

“Cyclops?” Cateline roared. “You are lying, Lord Alleyn!”

“Ah, tsk, tsk,” Alleyn said with a shake to his head. “I am not a Lord. You know this, Cateline.”

“What is your title, then?” Cateline asked casually and picked up a yellow daisy in her delicate fingers, twirling it around and picking at the petals. “Everybody deserves one.”

“Need not worry about my title, I am just grateful to serve your family.”

Cateline’s forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows furrowed, looking at the servant with disbelief. Alleyn held himself with such a standard it could only be compared to aristocracy. She found comfort in him, as if he was of the same class as her. Alleyn had always been there for her, teaching her about the things that her mother refused to admit to, whether it be the existence of creatures that lived outside Axulran’s walls, or the history of the land she would one day rule.

“Are you trying to tell me that you want to spend the rest of your life serving? Alleyn, why do you know so much of the world and spend so little time in it?”

“A battle with a cyclops is no fate to seek, Princess Cateline.”

Cateline let out a huff and looked towards the range of mountains, narrowing her eyes at the misty crests. Every so often, Cateline would go out and do chores with Alleyn. He was the only servant in this castle who saw her as a girl, and not as royalty. He hardly greeted her with the mundane formalities such as, ‘Your Highness,’ and instead referred to her simply as Cateline. While Cateline was certain some Princesses in the surrounding kingdoms would throw a tantrum the second they were greeted as anything that didn’t exude royalty, she was calmed by it. The day-to-day duties of a Princess were stressful, especially for a girl hardly past the age of eight.

Cateline kicked up some dirt with her feet, biting the inside of her cheek as curiosity tickled the back of her mind. “But… truly, Cyclopes?” Cateline studied Alleyn, watching for any flickering expression that signified he was jesting.

“Ones larger than five of you stacked together, mind you!”

Cateline set her own basket down and looked at the Elf with glee, her blue eyes wide and glistening with mischief. “How do you know?”

“Once upon a time, I was a nobleman. A knight if we must be exact. It was my duty to protect the kingdom, but this also meant I needed to venture into the wastelands every now and again.”

“A Knight? So, your title is Sir Alleyn?”

Alleyn chuckled, a yellow petal falling from the end of his gray beard and onto the grass. She watched as he wiped pieces of grass from the fabric of his pants, his pointed ears peeking between his rustled and graying hair. “It wasn’t too long before you that Elves ruled all. An Elven Knight was more common than mischievous, human princesses.”

“Mischievous?” She gaped; her jaw dropped but quickly closed when he gave her a sneer so coy it revealed how humorous it was that she reacted so quickly to his jab. His eyes, which were as golden as the sun, were set deep in his sockets and were wide, little green specs floating about the iris that deepened the wise aura he radiated. Cateline spent her time chasing after Alleyn in hopes to learn from him, he was an unfiltered encyclopedia that revealed all her parents tried to shelter her from.

Cateline yearned to know more of the unattainable stretches of land that surrounded her kingdom, and her befriended Elven servant was the best source of knowledge there was on this side of the Ellixus Region. The world was a mystery to her, and it seemed her parents did everything possible to keep it that way.

“Why were Elves, um…”

“Exiled? Executed?”

Cateline clamped her mouth shut before quickly nodding, her wide eyes growing fearful from his abrupt phrasing.

Alleyn let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if to recompose himself. “My deepest apologies, Cateline. That was harsh. To answer, though, a few decades ago there was a war. One I will tell you about another day, but this war revoked all the power of Elves. It was a downhill race from there, each title stripped away from my Elven brethren until we were nothing but servants.”

Cateline frowned, her eyes raking over his face as it twitched with an essence of pain. Alleyn was one of the only Elves Cateline had ever noticed in Axulran, but she had never taken a moment to ponder on the why and how that was possible. She never considered the fact that they were removed from power, only to be remembered in a bard’s old tune.

Then again, Alleyn always made an effort to seem as mundane as possible. Even with those bright, wide eyes and elongated, pointy ears, he somehow managed to come across as human as any other servant that walked along the halls of her castle.

Once they had finished talking of the vague history Alleyn had once experienced, Cateline was told to hurry inside and ready herself for supper. As soon as she walked inside, she was greeted with a rambunctious thud as one of her brothers collided into her. She fell backward, her older brother letting out a chuckle as he watched from the side. Sitting there with a pout, she shot daggers towards her younger brother and scowled.

“Kristof, you little sot! Watch where you are running.”

Her younger brother, with his sandy locks and impish grin, stood and offered a hand. “Sorry, sister. Terrence and I were playing a good ol’ game of catch.”

“I will say it’s safe to assume Terrence was the catcher because you are apparently far too clumsy to catch much of anything.”

Kristof returned to Terrence’s side and watched as they grinned towards each other. Terrence, who was the tallest and eldest out of the trio, was set to rule over Axulran when it came his time. Not a day past fourteen, but ready and able to rule a kingdom.

Cateline envied her elder brother, he was the golden child. He was the fighter, the scholar, and the leader. She yearned to follow in his footsteps in hopes she could, too, be a great leader as he. Unfortunately, women in Axulran were not leaders. Not even Cateline’s mother, who was wiser and kinder beyond belief, led her people. That was for King Airen, her father.

“Cateline, have you been spending time with Alleyn in the gardens again?” Terrence asked, returning his icy irises to her. She resembled neither of her siblings, both with their blonde hair and tan skin. The only notable resemblance was their eyes, which were wide and cool like the snow that coated Axulran during the harsh winters.

“I have,” she responded with a nod. “What does it matter?”

The three walked down a corridor, paying no mind to the servants who bowed as they passed. The walls of the castle were tall, windows stretching from floor to ceiling as the man bridges crossed over the wings of the building.

“Oh, nothing. I worry you are digging your nose into knowledge a girl your age mustn’t know.”

She huffed. “What knowledge am I to know, Terrence?”

“Sister,” he started with a toothy grin, “you are as curious as a cat, and must I remind you what happened to those curious kittens?”

“They perished. I am stronger than a feline, Terrence, stop doubting me so.”

"Yes, a warrior in the skin of a Princess. Fortunately, you have an elder brother who promises you will never see the light of battle. Run along and get ready for dinner, Cateline. There is little time before Father will have our heads.”

Both Cateline and Kristof scurried towards their chambers, only turning to look at her brother who looked at her with such care. She was certain he would be a leader that cared for his people and had goals that would strengthen them. If she were one of his citizens, she would respect him. It was night and day when you compared Terrence to her father, yet he was the one who raised him to be the leader he was blossoming into.

───── ❝ 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊, 𝖊𝖓𝖛𝖞 & 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖈 ❞ ─────

Cateline sat alongside her brothers, their parents quietly bickering at the opposite end of the long, narrow dining table. Her eyes raced between her parents as they shushed each other once their bickering became noticeable, her mother clearing her throat before speaking up.

“I hear you were in the garden today, Cateline. How was it?”

“Fine,” she responded coolly and averted her focus back to her plate, peas rolling around as she pushed the food around mindlessly. “Alleyn is my favorite servant.”

“You must be careful around him,” Airen, her father, spoke up. “He is not like you or I.”

Cateline peered at him through her lashes, opening her mouth but decidedly clamped it shut when Terrence cleared his throat.

“Father, I do not believe this is an appropriate time to be talking of such things.”

Airen looked at his eldest son with wide eyes, pursing his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Fine, fine. It is your responsibility to teach her, then. I will not play such games.”

“Airen,” her mother sighed. “So radical. We are eating supper; can it not remain quiet for a single moment?”

Cateline looked towards her younger brother who giggled as the awkward silence grew heavy, thickening the air with unspoken frustration. Kristof was the bubbliest of the trio, with his consistent giggle and wide-eyed smile. She hoped he would always remain this way, for Cateline and her brother were far too serious to go on without a little humor.

She turned her attention back to her father as he tore his teeth into a turkey leg, his beard coated with grease and oil. With her lips tugged downwards into a frown, she finally found her voice. “Father, I have a question for you.”

He grumbled in response, eyes narrowing towards his only daughter.

“Why are there no other Elves in Axulran?”

“Elves?” Airen’s voice boomed. “There have been no Elves throughout your entire life, Cateline. Why do you care?”

“Alleyn is an Elf, is he not?”

“Alleyn?” Her father inquired, letting out a curse when Emmeline, her mother, slapped him on the knee. “Of course, he is. He’s not like the others, though, you mustn’t worry about him.”

“Worry? Why should I have to worry at all?”

“Cateline,” Terrence whispered. “You should stop here.”

She pressed on. “What about Elves is so dangerous to you, father? Are their pointy ears going to stab you?”

Finally, her mother chimed in. “You need not be so worried about others, Cateline. Worry of your lessons in archery, like a normal Princess.”

With a frown, Cateline clenched her fists and slammed them on the wooden tabletop. “Why treat me like a child when my younger brother can run off with Terrence in preparation for battle? He is only eight, and he knows the way around a sword better than I know my way around the castle!”

Cateline was hardly a drama queen, she typically kept her frustrations muted and hidden beneath the surface, but this evening felt fueled by something strange. Something visceral in nature.

“I warn you, Cateline, you do not speak to your father in such a way, your ruler,” Airen said.

“Or what?” She sneered. In a moment of rebelliousness, she rolled her eyes and stood, both of her hands set onto the table. “You’ll have my head?”

“Cateline,” Terrence muttered beneath his breath. “Shush!”

Airen, too, stood and had his hands clenched into fists. “You are a woman, Cateline. Your place is not to rule, nor is it to fight. You must sit, obey, and listen to your king.”

Cateline’s chest vibrated with her sardonic laugh, her smooth skin raising into tiny goosebumps as something within her grew stronger. It fueled her irrational anger, turning dust into gunpowder as her words spewed venom.

“I don’t understand how you are so respected, a King who is scared of Elves. Alleyn told me of their history, how they were wiped clean from this land. Who made that call, daddy?”

Terrence jumped up, clamping a hand onto her shoulder to try and shake her from this unreasonable temper. She jumped, her skin turning slick as ice crawled underneath her veins, escaping through her fingertips and enveloping her hand into a block. Like a spider, it tickled up her forearm and stopped at her elbow, suffocating her arm as she attempted to pull it free. Her mother and father stood, staring at her with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

When she caught sight of her mother, she saw a fleeting reaction of terror. The ice stung Cateline’s skin, each pore turning purple as she let out a sob from the pain this outcry of magic ensued. She did not know of magic, and clearly, neither did her family.

Her father backed away when her mother ran from the room, hollering down the hall to grab a physician in hopes it would help her daughter from freezing alive. Terrence pulled Kristof back before returning to his sisters’ side, whispering under his breath.

“Cateline, you must calm yourself. Nothing will come from terror.”

Looking up at her brother, her bottom lip trembled, and she shook her head. She had not the slightest clue what was happening, and the judgmental looks Airen was shooting towards his daughter did not help her panic. As always, though, Cateline confided in her cool and collected brother, with his reassuring words and knowing stare. It was as if he expected something so impossible to happen all along.

Heavy feet approached Cateline, Airen’s fingers touching the thickening layer of ice before finally speaking just above a murmur: “You’re a witch?”