Chapter 1 Water collapsed upon Felicity Craine’s lungs as she struggled to resist the abyss’s pull. The ember glow above the surface served as a reminder for the night’s tragedies, just as the salty burning in her eyes did. How an ordinary night had gone so wrong eluded her fading mind. Her father slouched over a bar, surely, rambling about the world going to rot. Her mother tending to a vacant home. And her uncle–how she will miss him–refusing to rest until the sea “called back to him”, as he would say. Recalling how the day had started, another dimly lit morning awoken by the waning Sun as her mother practiced a piercing tune, it felt as though her mind was taking its final breath. Fading, yet holding on to her dear memories of their dying world. What had her mother been singing? It went along the lines of… “Oh broken bow, let loose your arrow. Come as you are…”. Felicity’s eyes snapped open as the off-pitch cadence wafted through the door. It was simply too early to be practicing a song, she thought. After throwing the covers from her bed and brushing the bangs off her forehead, she ventured down the stairs to witness her mother’s stage. Her mother danced around the kitchen, wrapped in a blue nightgown and her hair pinned upwards. An egg simmered over the cast-iron stove, adding an instrumental crackle to the song’s undertones, “Mum, you woke me up…” she mumbled. With their hearth running madly, the warm air in the room did not help in lulling her out of her drowsiness. It was as though winter had come early this year–she could not remember the last time the days were bright. It was as if the world was dimming every day. She grabbed a blanket off their chair before walking into the kitchen. “Oh good morning, dear,” Aurana mixed into her tune. “Food is almost ready; do tell your dad if you happen to see him.” He must have not returned last night. Had he slipped out in the dead of night, or given up the act all together? “And your uncle, of course.” “Yes mum,” slipped out obediently, as if routine. Routine would best summarize the girl’s daily life, only to be broken by whether the boy from down the trail–Clement Baskin–would come knocking on her door, or if her uncle decided to ask of her company on a hunt. The thrills of the world would ever elude her as she remained shackled to the demands of her dear mother. “Thank you for breakfast.” Regardless of how feelings towards her mother swayed on any given day, the food was always delicious. She grinned at the sight of her empty plate before storming off for the door, calling a goodbye to her mother and wishing her a good day. The first task on her agenda: picking up the weekly mail from the Baskin family postal. The Baskins stationed their business at the center of Autompneville. The quiet town was best known for being the capital of Kalmia’s golden coast, a small region of the country covered in red-leaved forests. Although a humble town, many an envoy had been seen passing by in recent weeks. Felicity swore that some were even bearing the crest of Sonderia, representing the holy monarchy. Her uncle always cursed them out after having the displeasure of catching them in his eyesight, for reasons tedious to her. She preferred to leave the matters of politics to those more informed–uncaring of her uncle’s disapproval. “One day when the king’s sword digs into the soft of your neck, you will realize that you should have never had the folly to disregard his actions,” he swore to her after a sparring match. It left her quite frightened, yes, but not so frightening enough to change her attitude. In her mind, the worst the kingdom could do is forget the town ever existed. Despite this, “Never trust an Elizos” remained her uncle’s platitude. Felicity dissipated the memory as she stepped onto the cracked stone leading to the Baskin’s, her footsteps drowning the morning silence. She passed the Rousseaus’ cottage, home to all seven delightful members of the family. The youngest member of the family, Charlotte, had presented Felicity a swift blow to the shin one morning for reportedly stealing the eye of her admirer, not to mention the slurry of insults that her brothers aimed at her growing up. Felicity swore that she would return the favour to Charlotte one day, perhaps even vouching for both shins. She continued down the trail, heading west along the coast up the gentle slope that gave way to a humble acreage of farmland. In the heart of a wheat field roamed a child younger than Felicity, most likely approaching thirteen. Despite the distance she could glean the vacant expression on his face accompanying his lifeless movement and slacked jaw. One of the soulless, she realized. The town claimed it was a curse when an infant was born without a soul, punishment for sins of the parent or perhaps pure misfortune. Word of so-called “Husks” had spread throughout the continent despite many attempting to frame it as a hysteria. Is it truly hysteria if it appears right before my eyes, Felicity questioned. Resisting the urge to watch the child, she continued her venture to the town center. After just another five minutes, Felicity found herself at the gate of her destination. As the girl approached the door of the Baskin’s she found herself unsatisfied with the way her hair fell, and the uneven skirt wrapped upon her waist. And her heart. Her heart never raced this fast, not even in the depths of the forest during a hunt. With a clasp of the breath she knocked upon the door to the rhythm of her heartbeat. The seconds pass by, drilling into her mind like a well-sharpened arrow dipped in anticipation. Finally, a creaking step crawled out from under the door and gripped her attention. Standing upright, she prepared for her entrance as the door opened, greeting her with the sight of…Claudia Baskin. Felicity’s smile fades away. “Hello dear, come in,” greets Claudia. Felicity, obeying, stepped into the parlor–a brightly lit room stuffed all the way to the brim with furnishings. Sat neatly in the center was Charles Baskin’s desk, the final destination for all incoming mail into Autompneville. He was a man just about as creaky as the floors beneath her feet; a sharp contrast to the youthful Claudia and their adolescent son. His folded brown eyes met Felicity’s as she approached the desk, scanning her bottom to top. “Welcome in, Miss Craine,” he remarked with a glint of recognition. He collapsed behind the desk before emerging with just a single letter, a tattered envelope stamped shut in purple wax. “I wasn’t aware your family was involved in this…rubbish,” Charles muttered. Confused, Felicity accepted the letter and turned to the sender’s information. It read “Ellora’s School of Cosmonica”. “I wasn’t aware either,” she responded. “But thank you. Have a good day, sir.” He nodded and waved her off, as usual. She left the house as she came, though not without taking one last look for their son’s presence. No luck. The Sun had finally begun its ascension into the sky, the mark of a day turned anew. Shafts of light cascaded over the coastline, reflecting off the golden leaves and endless sea into a million pieces. The sea that stretched into nothingness–the edge of the world. Felicity stared off into the emptiness before the weight in her hands pulled away her attention. Curious to the contents of the letter, she tore open the envelope and eyed the paper. “Calling all younglings who look to the stars! The School of Cosmonica is now admitting new students for the year. From the heart of Vanera to the farthest coasts of Kalmia, students between the ages fifteen to eighteen are eligible to apply! The application process…” the letter continued, a jumble of stipulations and agreements. Felicity began cramming the parchment into her satchel before a call from behind caught her attention. “What are you reading there, lass?” asked a gruff voice. She would recognize that sound from anywhere–the voice of Freidrick Craine. “Uncle!” she called, turning around and embracing the man. He stood nearly twice her height, an imposing man of some forty years with the scars of time eroding the skin of his face. The brave glint in his eye remained, however. “Where have you been all morning?” “The Moreau boys down by the woods claimed ‘creatures of Perchta’ had come scratching on their door the night before. I entertained the notion and did a quick sweep of the woodline to ease their minds…and that is when I saw it,” he trailed off. “Saw what?” Felicity asked. Her uncle looked towards the ground, a sullen expression marking his face. He slowly unravelled his coat to reveal an iron cage cloaked in linen. Clawing nails scratched against the metal, accompanied by a ferocious growl from within. Felicity, though hesitant, peered down and slowly pulled on the fabric to reveal the beast inside. A small, harmless…cat. “Watch out, Felicity. The beast may strike you at any moment,” Freidrick warned while placing the cage on the ground and opening the hatch. The feline stepped out and started digging at the ground. Felicity looked up at her uncle, unamused. “Stop teasing, you had me excited! This is just Jasper.” The orange tomcat was a local of the town; one could often find him perusing the Sunday market eagerly on the hunt. “Come here boy,” she said while motioning to him. He obeyed, rubbing against her hand and rolling in the dirt. “Don’t scratch too hard on the Moreau’s door, Jasper! They may keel over in fear next time.” He meowed in agreement. “Good boy. Anyways, I was reading a letter I had received from some ‘School of Cosmonica’”. She handed her uncle the letter, who seemed struck with an air of recognition–and concern. “Now listen lass, I need to go find your father, but that Baskin kid…” Freidrick sighed while giving the letter back. The mention of Clement piqued Felicity’s interest as easy as the Sun rose to the sky. “Now first I must commend the brat’s boldness to ask this of me, but he begged I deliver a message unto you.” “...What does he ask of me?” “The lad wants to meet you at the Hearthedge cliff. If I had no business to attend I would chaperone without hesitation, but I don’t have time to babysit right now. Your goddamned father got himself in trouble last night, again.” Felicity did not want to know any details–her perception of her father could not take much more infliction. “Just, be careful. I will not be around to protect you.” “I do not need you protecting me, uncle. I’ll be responsible,” she said. Friedrick leaned down into a hug, a single arm covering the span of the girl’s back. He walked off down the path, bound for the town center and no doubt the local cell. Felicity wasted no time, running westward to the newly minted meeting spot. Clement Baskin kept himself company in the pool of light striking off the seawater from below. Its waves crashed upon the cliff, pulling stone into salt. The water appeared so homely to the boy for reasons he could not quite begin to grasp at. Like a siren calling to him, the promise of warmth and retreat slipped into his softly-beating heart. It would take hardly a moment to return to the water–just a hop and a skip down the cliff face. And of course, his father would not follow him in. Not a coward like him. “Hey, what are you doing all the way up there?” a girl called from below. His trance broke upon the piercing call of her approach. Felicity Craine, the girl from down the trail, never failed to catch the young man’s eye. To him, the auburn hair flying across her face shined just as brilliantly as the surrounding forest. And even more brilliant than the sea; he could hardly remember the sensation of starting down upon it from mere seconds ago. After entering their teenage years, the two had sensed an uncomfortable presence between themselves, as if a third person sat in the room with them. Perhaps it came from the way he looked at her body–regardless of the other boys claiming she lacked femininity–or lips, he thought. Despite his best efforts, he was unable to give this presence a name. “Clement! Are you okay?” Once again his attention was drawn to the sound. “Sorry Felicity, I caught myself thinking about what to prepare for dinner tonight,” he lied as she began her ascent up the grassy bluff. Never a good manner of starting a conversation. As she reached the peak, Clement offered a sturdy arm to pull her across the remainder of the increasingly jagged rocks. “Thanks,” she whispered. Their eyes met against the backdrop of the ocean, lulling each other in as rhythmic as the waves below. “How come you asked me to meet here?” she inquired after taking a pause. “Do you remember when I applied to the school in Veridian?” Felicity nodded. “Well, I have recently received word that I was accepted into the academy. I am due to travel eastward in two weeks.” “That’s marvelous, Clement! You’ve worked your entire life to study there. Oh, like the time I caught you asleep on this very spot with a book covering your face!” “Yes, I am quite pleased. However, the prospect of leaving town has made me reflect on what I will be leaving behind. The very notion has inspired me to say something that has been left unsaid for much too long.” His stare seemed even deeper than before, if that was truly possible. Felicity’s pulse quickened under his gaze with anticipation of his next words. “Will you…wait for me to return in five years time? If the world is still standing by then, that is,” he noted with a laugh. “Of…of course, Clement.” The two sat in silence for but a moment before interlocking hands. They sat until the Sun had nearly returned back beneath the ocean, reminiscing over their memories together and the life to come after. With each memory, the two seemed to inch ever closer into each other's presence. As Clement leaned in further, however, he caught the sight of another girl violently walking up the bluff. Charlotte Rousseau could hardly believe her eyes. Was that girl seriously talking to yet another one of the local boys, she thought to herself. After a shouting match with one of her older brothers, she had rushed out in a flurry to escape the usual chaos of her home. The Hearthedge cliff offered a place of respite–about the only one she could find in town–and better yet distance from her family. Much to her dismay, however, the cliff was occupied. And even worse, by Felicity Craine of all people! Charlotte’s eyes could not escape a glimmer of longing when looking at the girl–despite her efforts to resist. The girls had long been friends in their youth, meeting at the quaint age of three and staying at the hip ever since. Or at least until Charlotte had thrown their relationship to the fire. It all started from her mother encouraging her to talk with one of the neighborhood boys; she believed his name had been Owen. The two got along well enough for what it was worth, but it all came to a head when she had caught the boy talking to no other than Felicity–who to Charlotte’s discomfort seemed to entertain the conversation. She tried desperately to forget the pit of sickness festering in her gut following the discovery. Purging the sickness demanded her to find peace with the grounds of its inception, however. Something she was not yet prepared to do. Her form of resolution was to instead offer Felicity’s shin a bitter kick. “What are you two doing up here all along,” she snarked. “Charlotte, could we have some privacy, please?” asked Clement, much to Felicity’s surprise. The boy was rarely direct with others, preferring to instead circumvent their affairs and carry on with his own business. “Oh, please. You two can hardly take your hands off each other. The last thing you need to do is take over my spot as well.” “Your spot?” Felicity mocked. “Since when does an entire cliff belong to you?” The girls’ fighting was interrupted by a wave of screaming from down the hill, cutting around the corner of the woods and leading back to the town center. The three all stopped in silence before sprinting back home. It was a terrible panic that Felicity felt after seeing her mother arrested in the clutches of a Sonderian guard. The feeling of all the day’s good slipping right out of her grasp and leaving behind a morsel of nothingness. Their house had been surrounded in its entirety, obfuscated by the crest of Sonderia and the smolder of torches. Feebly resisting the chains that held her arms in a bind, her mother marched through the front door to the order of the unit. Friedrick was occupied in a shouting match with another–although both men kept a fast hand on their blade–before Felicity came charging into her mother’s rescue. Charlotte and Clement followed in her footsteps; the three had come to a mutual agreement on putting their squabble to rest. “Let her go!” Felicity shouted from down the road. She tapped the side of her left thigh to ensure her faithful dagger lay in its sheath. Just about all the people in the area barring her mother’s captor turned to her voice. Some in surprise, some in anger, but the most haunting were the ones that looked at her as a prize. As if they were searching for… “That one! Capture her immediately!” commanded the tallest man in the brigade. He donned a royal blue scarf, covering his breastplate and a portion of his dim face. It would take years for Felicity to release the image of his predation from her memory. The trio froze in their tracks. Clement shuffled around to shield Felicity while Charlotte stood firmly by her side, gripping her hand. Nearly half of the brigade began their descent down the road, quickly honing in on the kids. The remaining units kept watch on her relatives, primarily her uncle, who refused to back down. “You will not be taking my niece, you monarchal scum!” Friedrick yelled. The commander drew his blade at this disruption, threatening Friedrick with the shining steel. “Damn you,” he retaliated. Before Felicity could blink, the two had engaged in combat and thrown the rest of the men into a frenzy. The brigade descended upon them, drawing their weapons in unison. Charlotte was the first to be pinned down despite her strongest efforts to protect Felicity. As she was unarmed, the men left her tied up and lying on the stone. Clement, however, did not go down without a fight. The brave young man unsheathed a sword of his own and brought it down upon a soldier nearly twice his height. Felicity cringed as blood spilled upon the ground from the man’s forearm just as it reached out to grab her. “Go, now”, Clement demanded. Felicity did not hesitate to run towards her family. The boy did his best to hold off the soldiers, succeeding up until the man he had slashed stuck a blade in his back. Felicity looked back to see the innocence fading from Clement’s eyes as he collapsed to the ground. Charlotte released a dreadful scream into the air. Unable to crawl over to her friend, she sat and watched as his last breath faded into the wind, returning to the ocean. The other soldiers stared at the man who had slain the child, reckoning with the consequences of their actions. The child must have deserved it, they thought. At the very least it would bring them peace of mind. He wiped the blood from his arm and turned his attention to Felicity. The girl, on the brink of shock, did everything in her power to reach her mother’s side. By the time she reached the house her uncle had gathered a number of bruises and cuts in his struggle. He spoke to Felicity while never taking his eyes off his opponent. The two were nearly on their last legs, both struggling to breath and dripping red. “Lass you need to listen to me. You need to leave us be and jump down to the waves. I was promised that you will be protected...” She did not understand. “What are you doing? Move!” His voice was just about smothered by the blood drowning his throat. “But you are hurt! I need to get you and mum out of here!” More men began surrounding her, nipping at her heel. The commander stared hungrily at her from where he lay. She had to restrain herself from taking her boot to the man’s face. “We do not have time. You need to run, now” he ordered with a final gasp. This time she did not question. Felicity slipped past the soldiers’ grasp and bolted to the cliff behind her house. Fortunately for her, the heavy armor of the men prevented them from chasing her down. The water roared from below, beckoning her. And so she jumped into the dark. …What a dreadful last memory, she thought to herself as the air left her lungs. Darkness enveloped her gaze and lulled her into one final sleep. She could even feel the arms of the Mother wrapping around her, cradling her in her last moments. The limbs were scalier than she expected, firmer as well. No, this could not be the embrace of a goddess. It was something else, something darker. Her thoughts had no time to consider it though–it was time to leave. And with that, she ceased to think.