Celna was always following her brother Vos, and Vos was always out of reach. Celna would always return to Vos’s shadow. She basked in the light of Sellis as her only joy and so reflected a solemn blue glow, fleeting and sometimes lost. Amma could not bear for a daughter of hers to be so lonely. She thought that if only Sellis could be closer to her. So Amma plucked flame from the star, picked a stone from Celna's iron core, and brought them together. From this, Yid was born. His ethereal flame shone along with Celnas' solemn blue and together they were harmonious. Happy, the new siblings followed Vos in the skies together. occasionally taking turns playing hide and seek, now with a sibling to find them.

*****

“I’m home!” Maya called out, jimmying the door open, its latch stiff. “Noa, I thought I told you to oil the door? You might have trapped Erin outside with me and missed seeing her, you know.”

The two friends walked in, Erin skirting her way around Maya and making a beeline towards the kitchen where the smell of warm food beckoned her. Noa looked up from his book where he was seated in the corner of the room and smiled innocently.

“Sorry Sis, it must have slipped my mind.” He turned to Erin and attempted a suave expression but missed the mark as usual. “We’ve got a pie in the oven for dessert, Erin. Just for you.”

“Sweet!” Erin licked her lips and hurried to the kitchen even faster than before, not even acknowledging the boy who could have been the mirror image of her best friend had he not been born a different gender. They shared the same citrine eyes that now gazed longingly after his sister's best friend. The same powder white skin that flushed so brightly when Maya joked, “She’ll notice you eventually.” They also shared the same long ebony hair that was the defining trait of the Brennon family. He hid behind it now.

Maya sighed and pulled at her brother's arm. “Come on, it’s time for dinner.”

She was the youngest of her siblings, but she could have sworn she’d been looking after them as long as she could remember.

Stepping into the kitchen, she kissed her father’s cheek before sitting down beside Erin. Noa tried to sit down nonchalantly on Erin’s other side, but he wasn’t fooling anyone, except for Erin, who greeted him only after he, not so subtly, bumped into her.

“How’s work going sweetie?” asked Maya’s father, passing her a bowl of stew.

Maya quickly accepted it from his wavering hand and replied brightly.“Great! We made more this week than we normally do all summer. I don’t know how the Heroes already have coin when they spontaneously pop out of nowhere, but they sure do love spending it right away.” She ate a spoonful of the rich stew and sighed gratefully, relishing the fat melting on her tongue. “It sure is exhausting though. Where’d you get the meat, Kyle? This rabbit must have been too fat to hop.”

“That’s why it couldn’t escape when I caught it in Gretta’s garden,” he replied. As the eldest brother, Kyle took care of their father and home. He acted as a nurse, chef, handyman, all around silly brother, and now bunny-wrangler. “The little rascal had been plaguing Gretta’s turnips for weeks, when I caught it for her, she gave me some of her carrots too, that’s why the stew’s so sweet.”

“Did she give them to you, or did you catch them with the rabbit?” Maya challenged. She knew Gretta, and she knew Kyle. Gretta would never part with her prized carrots, but Kyle would certainly set up a rabbit to take the fall.

“They were a just reward.”

Maya’s father laughed heartily at this and she let the matter go. If it made Father happy, Kyle’s tricks were all too welcome.

The evening carried on with a stream of banter mitigated only by the consumption of stew. Erin went home not long after said stew ran out, to a certain young mans’ chagrin. Maya cleaned the kitchen and put her ailing father to bed; despite his weak protests that it wasn’t necessary. Finally, with all her chores accounted for, she sat down with her prized possession, a geography book. Each page had a map and a corresponding description of the land it represented and the things that lived there. It was hard to imagine a place that burnt so hot in the day that nothing could grow and yet still be freezing in the night. What was even more unbelievable was the tribe that called such a place home. She read of the eleven kingdoms.

And she read of the ancient war.

The book was old and out of date. Written even before the ceasefire twenty-three years ago. It spoke of the horrifying demons that called the Wild Lands home. Wove tales of how the Voidspawn would eat the babes of the good and honest human folk if only given the chance. How shocked the author would be, to know there was a village of these horrifying fiends on the border of Cinnfhail? If only he knew they slept in beds only a dozen strides away from human babes, that they lived quiet lives like any other, with simple hopes and dreams.

And now Heroes.

Maya scowled and put her book down. It was hard reading by candlelight anyway. Her brothers had gone to sleep now, and she could hear her father’s gentle snores as she put her ear to his door.

Gently closing the front door behind her, Maya made her way back to her shop by silver starlight and the solemn glow of Celna absent of her brother's comforting flame.

She emerged from the shop with the glint of cold steel visible in her hands. The blade was held almost reverently to her breast as she navigated her way to the familiar glade to practice her forms. The glade was a silent world of ethereal blue, obscured slightly by a shallow mist that danced through the long grass and wildflowers. Maya found its centre and began as her mother taught her.

First, thank Amma, Mother of All. Blade held straight between the eyes separating the world in twain. Bow to the Void to which all must return—her sword swept forward in a slow graceful arc—and sever that which claim to send you there sooner. A sharp jab and lunge. Dance with Atie and distance be no object. Now quick steps, precise and exacting, intermixed with those slow and deliberate. Maya flowed through the forms sometimes so slow as to make the effort not to move gargantuan, or so fast as to barely miss tripping over her own two feet.

The sweat dripped from her brow unheeded. Maya did not listen to her body’s aches and pains but to her mother’s voice. A beautiful yet fading memory––the singular memento of a mother she loved so dearly––Maya would never forget her teachings. Never would she forget the lesson mother had taught her. She was a big girl now.

Practising in the night left much of her body in shadow, the glint of Celna on the sword sometimes the only indication that Maya was in the glade. It was better that way. Best not to be seen and draw danger unwittingly. Best to be strong for when that danger comes regardless.

Maya learned her lessons and took them to heart.

*****

“Next!”

Maya bit back a yawn as she called over the next Hero in line. Why did so many of them insist on showing up just as the shop opened? It was going to be a long exhausting day, even without the muscle aches and sleep deprivation that her night's training left her with.

“Excuse me?”

Maya started, she’d drifted off and a blank-faced Hero of all things had caught her. “Right, what can I do for you this morning?” She managed a weak smile, but he was obviously unconvinced.

“Well I was going to ask for some potions but…” The Hero drifted off.

Was that concern on his face? The Heroes normally didn’t even look at her like a person, rather like she was a tool or just another piece of the scenery.

“I’ve never seen a shopkeeper that looked as exhausted as you. I didn’t even think it was possible for you to get tired.”

Maya blinked and stared at the man. He’d said the last part as if to himself, but she’d heard him all the same.

Thick brown hair, jade green eyes, and a chiselled chin speckled with stubble made for a roguishly handsome man. His awkward smile as he noticed her pause was at odds with this, but maybe that was another point of charm. He wore the same plain linen clothing and basic leathers that she must have sold him before—she couldn’t remember when but the light where suggested no more then a couple days ago—and strapped to his waist was a basic dagger. He was a prototypical Hero, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they were all just as idiotic.

“Of course, I get tired, just like any other person. Shopkeepers aren’t mage-tech, despite any stories you Heroes may have heard.” She tried to be polite. She really did, but she couldn’t hide her exasperation at the man.

“Oh right, sorry!” he quickly apologized and muttered something to himself. “Say, you don’t suppose I could help you out here in exchange for some supplies? I’m a bit tight for cash.”

Cash? What did that mean?

Maya glanced at the waiting line of Heroes and, noticing their growing annoyance, quickly came to a decision.

“Sure, help me through the morning rush and I’ll give you ten potions; stamina or health, we can decide that later.” She paused and the man nodded. “Now get behind the counter next to me and watch me deal with the next few, after that you can ask me any questions if you need help.” The man poked at the air before complying.

Your Quest has been accepted.

Veuce whispered to her and Maya shivered.

The Hero stood to her side and watched her intently as she called her next patron over, this time a female Hero that would put town beauties to shame everywhere. She wanted new potions and a grinding stone for her dagger, and Maya quickly fulfilled her request, pointing out the location of items to her helper.

“There are more potions in the back, if we run low, tell me and I’ll fetch us some more.” She finished her explanation before turning back to the woman and completing the exchange. Turning back once more to her helper, she realized she didn’t know how to address him; it wouldn’t do to call him Hero with five others filling her shop. “Are you going to tell me your name at some point or will I have to start calling you Hero-one?”

His cheeks tinged with red and Maya held back a snort; he looked even less a rogue and more an awkward farm boy.

He gathered himself and replied sheepishly, “A-Aiden. My name is Aiden.”