A Fateful Magic

A Fateful Magic

A Novel By

Wren Cherney

This Smashwords edition is for ebook distribution, 2013

Copyright Wren Cherney 2013

ISBN 9781301169979

Wren Cherney Facebook

Wren Cherney Author Website

Wren Cherney asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

All characters and events featured in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead, organisation or event, is purely coincidental. Any mistakes are the author’s own. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Pronunciation Guide

Aislinn – ASH-ling

Dobhar-Chú – Doo-ar-koo

Dullahan – DOOL-ah-hon

Mell – Mahl

Padraig – PAW-drig

Samhain – SOW-en

Saoirse – SEAR-sha

Sidhe – SHEE-ih

Tír na Nóg – Teer-nah-nohg

Trow – Troh

Tuatha dé Danaan – Tu-AH-ha-day-dah-nin

"Though much is taken, much abides; and though

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Ulysses—Lord Alfred Tennyson

Prologue

In deep midsummer, in a world far gone from all memory, when the trees were green and the fields were lush, when fires were lit across the countryside and magic was at its most powerful, two sisters were born. Had these children been the sort that life greeted every day, likely no tale would ever be told of them. But, as it happens, they were not.

From the moment people came to look upon their faces, astonishment at their remarkable likeness to each other and fear that they possessed magic beyond their years accompanied the children. Their mother, a beloved and spirited elven woman, died soon after their birth, causing even greater concern amongst their people. The elves cast the sisters out, separating them and leaving them on opposite ends of the woods just beyond the borders of their lands. But magic was at work when they came into the world on that temperate midsummer evening, and this great magic enabled them to survive.

Not long after the children were sent away, a band of horsemen rode through those very woods. They might never have seen one of the babies if she had been wrapped in anything but the elvish cloth of her people, which caught and reflected the light coming through the dense leafy canopy above them. As they rode by, one of them did catch a glimpse of this curious shining fabric, dismounted, and approached it. Crouching down, he moved the cloth aside and realized what exactly his band had come across.

As he stared in disbelief at the baby’s face, still unblemished from the woods, soft footsteps drew close behind him. These footsteps belonged to a young woman whose otherworldly beauty had led more than one man to his demise. A small white bird was perched upon her shoulder, and it fluttered its wings almost imperceptibly as she walked towards the pair on the ground. She wore a dress spun from pure gold, her own gauzy wings blending seamlessly into a translucent cape that pooled around her like water as she knelt beside the man.

You’ll want to see this, Aislinn, the horseman said, still surprised by the infant’s faultless appearance.

As she leaned over the bundle to get a closer view, her long braid that looked as if it too was made of gold fell forward and tickled the baby’s cheek. The hood of the baby’s wrap had fallen aside to reveal a head of silvery blonde hair almost identical to the plumes of Aislinn’s bird. And her eyes, dark azure like the sky just after twilight, were Aislinn’s. The child cooed and smiled toothlessly at the little bird and the woman, who was taken aback for only a moment. Then she smiled as well and picked up the baby.

What a beautiful child, she whispered, still smiling as her finger traced the girl’s porcelain cheek and the slightly pointed tips of her ears. Then louder, Aislinn announced, I shall take you in and care for you as my own.

Her horsemen looked at each other a bit uneasily, wary of this hasty decision, but said nothing. Who were they to question the fairy queen of Avalon?

***

Miles away in the same forest, the child’s sister was lying swaddled beneath a willow tree. As if she could sense that her twin was at that very moment being taken ever farther from her, the baby began to cry. Her young sobs tore through the heavy air and caught the attention of a woman picking berries nearby. Anyone else from the small neighboring village who heard these terrible cries might have assumed they came from a wounded animal and turned away, but Mell, a mage who was accustomed to the strange and unsettling, would do no such thing.

Instead, she approached with a steady speed, and when she ducked beneath the willow tree’s low-hanging limbs, she gasped to see the tiny source of the seemingly tormented cries. Not only was this a louder noise than she thought possible from such an insignificant creature, but she was also shocked by the loveliness of the child, apparent even through her cries. She rushed towards the raucous bundle and picked it up to cradle the baby in her arms. When her moss-green eyes met Mell’s hazel ones, Mell felt as if she was looking into the eyes of her own child, the child she had always longed for but had never been granted. And when she saw the girl’s ears, Mell knew her to be an elf and could sense the magic that had drawn her to the child.

Pulling out a handkerchief from her skirt’s pocket, Mell wiped the tears from the baby’s cheeks. In exchange, she pulled lightly on a curl of Mell’s unruly auburn hair.

You have some fire in you, don’t you? she said, for she could tell it was true even before she had laid eyes on her. The baby smiled and even seemed to give Mell a little nod of affirmation. Mell laughed. Yes, you have fire in you...Aidan, she said, trying out the name and deciding it fit the baby well. My little fire.

With Aidan in her arms, Mell began the long walk home.

1.

Long, slender fingers danced across the carefully carved keys of a piano, filling the high-ceilinged marble room with a haunting melody. The young woman playing the music sat upon a large wooden bench with legs carved in the shape of a castle and inlaid with gold. A man approached the pianist but went unnoticed as the music grew ever louder.

I don’t believe I taught you that one, Princess, said the girl’s instructor.

She smiled at the familiar voice behind her but continued playing. I heard it in a dream, she said absentmindedly.

It reminds me of our ancestors, the Tuatha dé Danaan, he said, coming to sit beside her on the bench.

Wasn’t it said they came to this land in flying ships? she asked, finally ceasing her music and turning to face him with eyes matching the sky that day in their fairy realm of Avalon.

"So you have been reading your history, he laughed. Orla has her doubts, mind you."

Princess Evina was about to reply with some choice words about Orla, who had been her unyielding tutor since she began learning to read, when a little white songbird flew through the open floor-to-ceiling window.

Saoirse, Evina called, and the wide smile she reserved only for her constant companion and protector spread across her face. At hearing her name, the bird flew to the princess and perched on her wrist. Evina let out an exasperated sigh and her instructor looked at her questioningly. I’ve been trying to get this confounded creature to land on my shoulder, but she simply refuses, she explained. Despite the princess’s words, her instructor could see the loving look she granted Saoirse.

I suppose that’s a privilege only granted to the queen, he said in mock seriousness. No one had ever quite understood the bond the queen and princess shared with the songbird, but ever since the day Aislinn and Evina first met, Saoirse had fluttered back and forth between the two, forever guarding them and keeping a watchful eye over their kingdom.

Evina just smiled back at him and observed as the bird hopped from one of her slender wrists to the other. Even such a girlish gesture looked graceful from the princess, who was every inch the poised and elegant young woman Aislinn had once been and had in turn raised her daughter to be.

I hate to interrupt, chimed a voice from the doorway behind them, but I wondered if I might have an audience with the princess on her eighteenth birthday.

Knowing that voice better than any on earth, Evina smiled as she flitted to Aislinn. As they embraced, Evina’s head still only reached her mother’s shoulder, upon which Saoirse had immediately perched. Evina wondered almost daily if she would ever grow to be as tall and stunning as the queen, though she knew she wasn’t hers by blood. They considered this day her birthday because it was the day, eighteen years earlier, that Aislinn and her huntsmen had come across Evina in the woods. It was on that day that her life had truly begun.

I wanted you to know that, despite Orla’s valiant protests, you’re free from your lessons for the rest of the day, Aislinn spoke into her daughter’s silvery hair.

Thank you, Mother! Evina exclaimed. Every day in Avalon was beautiful, but today was especially so, and Evina wanted nothing more than to be outside and enjoying her kingdom. She gave Aislinn an extra squeeze around the middle, which was met by the queen’s sweet, tinkling laughter.

Now go, enjoy your day, Aislinn prompted as she shuffled Evina from the room. Just make sure you’re back in time to get ready for the celebration!

I will be! she confirmed as she walked briskly but gracefully down the hall towards the grand staircase where she could see the entrance to the castle. She knew just where she was headed and who she wanted to see.

Happy birthday, Princess! the gatekeepers standing on either side of the castle’s entrance called out as Evina passed in a flurry of silvery hair and perfume.

Thank you, sirs! she replied, turning to them with a smile.

She strode down the lane and turned left, stopping when she saw the familiar black tin sign hanging above the third house on the right. The sign read Woodsmith, and beneath the lettering was a little silhouette of a fairy beside a tree.

Smiling already as she entered the house, she was greeted by the overwhelming scent of a forest. Chopped wood of every sort was piled along all sides of the room and a fire burned in the hearth in front of her. She stood there for a moment and closed her eyes, savoring the fertile aroma.

Can I help you? said a man’s voice from behind a heap of wood, and Evina jumped nearly a foot off the ground.

Depends, she said, upon recognizing the voice. Do you have any good birthday gifts around here?

The man emerged from behind a heap of lumber and grabbed a shirt from the nearby workbench, pulling it over his head as he approached her. His light brown hair was messy when his head came through the neckline of the shirt—but it was always a bit messy, as if he had planned it. The blue-green eyes she knew so well brightened when he saw her.

I think I might be able to rustle something up. He pulled Evina into a warm embrace and she felt sawdust shower over her head. He then held her at arm’s length and surveyed her. But it’s the princess’s birthday today, and I don’t see any princess. Maybe a banshee…

She laughed, brushing off her head and shoulders and transforming back into the always-poised princess.

There she is, he nodded in approval, smiling his infectious, dimpled smile at his best friend. Eighteen years old, and I still remember the day you came to Avalon.

Evina rolled her eyes. Irial, you say that every year when my birthday comes around. How is it that you remember something that happened when you were three years old?

He paused. I remember the important things.

Well, she said lightly, how about making today important and spending it with me? My prison guard has released me.

Orla has loosened her clutches on you at last! Irial said, not missing a beat. That alone is cause for celebration!

Evina and Irial had been friends since childhood, when she had tripped over her gown in a royal procession and he, standing nearby, had been the first to reach out and catch her. For years they had managed to maneuver around her demanding tutors and responsibilities as princess, his growing list of clients from his job as a woodsmith, and their extremely different upbringings to find time to spend in each other’s company. What they still sometimes had trouble navigating was the line between friendship and something deeper, as well as the undefined boundaries between a princess and her subject, who were really just two people with more in common than anyone suspected.

Suddenly a burly man with a fawn-colored beard and years of hard work carved into his face emerged from the staircase set off to the side of the room. Brom, Irial’s father, had kind brown eyes and a smile bright enough to light a room.

Happy birthday! he bellowed, and she laughed as he walked over and spun her around, lifting her clear off the ground like a ragdoll.

Following close behind was Juliet, Irial’s mother. Her long, grey-streaked braid flipped behind her shoulder as she embraced Evina once Brom had set her back on the floor. Within their home, Brom and Juliet treated the princess as they would treat any friend, and Evina treasured that fact. With Brom, Juliet, and Irial, she got a glimpse of what a normal life must be like.

I made you a cake, Juliet said, smiling as she left the room and headed towards the kitchen.

Irial smiled at his parents but shook his head, a little embarrassed. Sometimes he feared they would forget she was a princess altogether and do something truly inappropriate. But he knew that she enjoyed the rare venture into normalcy, so he said nothing and let his friend savor the moment.

Now, it won’t be anything as delicious as the castle’s chefs can make, I’m sure, Juliet said, but some creature in the kitchen seems to have enjoyed it well enough. She gave Brom a scolding look and Evina giggled at the huge piece cut right out of the dainty white cake.

I’m sure it tastes as wonderful as it looks, she said reassuringly, and once the cake had been cut they all sat together around the dining table and devoured it, conversing and laughing as if they had not a care in the world. When Irial and Evina decided they wanted to go horseback riding, Brom threw his son the key to their horses’ stalls.

Don’t keep him out too late, Princess, Brom said with a wink. Irial threw his arm around her shoulder carelessly as they laughed, but before they went outside he removed it and they both straightened as if they really were nothing more than a royal and a common citizen of her kingdom.

***

They spent that entire afternoon together, the longest period of uninterrupted time they’d had in years. The pair rode two of Irial’s family’s horses until they reached a grove of trees, at which point they guided the horses into the lush woods and made their way into a quaint little clearing. Spotting a brook nearby, the riders dismounted and let the horses drink their fill after the long ride.

Irial lay down in the long, fluffy grass a few feet away, arms comfortably behind his head. Giving the horse’s neck one last stroke, Evina joined her friend and leaned carefully against a tree, skirt fanned around her without the slightest wrinkle.

So, has your day of freedom been all you hoped for? he asked, turning on his side and propping up his head to look at her.

It’s been a dream, Evina replied with a sigh, because it truly had been. Irial was the only person who would have serious discussions with her one moment and have her rolling on the ground with laughter the next. She couldn’t imagine anyone she would have rather spent the day with. Then something came to her mind, something she had been afraid to voice for some time.

Except? Irial said. He was always able to read the emotions on her face, usually before she even noticed she was showing them.

Oh, I don’t know. It’s probably a totally silly thing to say, or even think.

Evie, he said, scooting over so that he was sitting right in front of her, I’ve known you your whole life. You rarely have silly thoughts.

She shook her head, wishing he’d forget about the whole thing. Irial laughed. Or at least you’re smart enough not to speak them. As she still wouldn’t meet his eye, he reached out and raised her chin so that she had no choice but to look at him. You can tell me.

Evina took a deep breath and the words poured out. It’s silly because I know how blessed I’ve been my entire life. I’m aware of how good I have things. I’m a princess, for goodness’ sake!

She looked at Irial again and could see that he was waiting to hear what was really weighing on her mind. "However, she reluctantly continued, there are times, particularly on this day every year, when I feel as though a part of me is missing. And it’s a part of me I can’t even explain. All I know is that I have no right to want for anything. I’ve been given everything anyone could ever ask for, and yet I feel as if I need more."

Irial’s piercing turquoise gaze was still intently focused on her.

"Well, maybe not more. Just something…else. Something different," she finished, wishing he would stop looking at her that way.

Do you have any idea what it is you’re missing? he responded when he was satisfied that she had finally spoken her piece. Or why you feel it in particular on your birthday?

Evina considered it. None. That’s why it’s maddening. I can’t explain it, I have no right to feel it, and I don’t even know what it is! She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation and Irial chuckled at the very un-princesslike gesture. What? she asked, annoyed but unable to keep from smiling at Irial’s contagious laughter.

It’s nice to see you let your guard down, that’s all.

I let my guard down around you all the time! Evina replied.

Irial smiled again, but there was sadness mingled with it now. The atmosphere had changed completely between them in a matter of moments.

I worry about you, Evie.

She looked at her friend with complete confusion and curiosity, so he explained himself. "Not because you feel like something is missing despite the fact that you’re the princess of Avalon, but because you feel like there’s something wrong about having the feeling at all. I’m worried that all the princess lessons, all the instructions on what you should and shouldn’t say, do, or even feel, are going to wring out every bit of spirit you have. That spirit is what sets you apart from all the other people with means in this world, Evie. You’ve been a princess your whole life, but with each passing year I see you really becoming one."

What’s that supposed to mean? she snapped, feeling both love for her friend who was concerned enough about her to notice these things, and irritation that he would accuse her of losing her identity.

It means you monitor yourself, even around me! Irial said, voice sounding as though someone was wringing his vocal chords. You don’t have to. I can take whatever you throw at me! All I want is to be here for you, and you act as though you’re not entitled to an original thought or feeling.

Well, she said, rising swiftly from her spot on the ground, if that’s really how you feel, maybe you’d prefer it if I just take my unthinking, spiritless corpse back to the castle where I clearly belong!

Evina stalked over to the horse she had ridden there and was about to pull herself onto its saddle when a hand gently covered hers on the reins. She turned to see Irial standing only inches away from her.

That’s not what I meant, he said, voice low.

She shrugged herself out from between the horse and Irial, walking to the middle of the clearing. Still facing away from him, she said, I know. I’m sorry.

Don’t be sorry, he said, approaching her and placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. Just be the woman I know you are, unafraid to speak your mind and do what you must.

Do what I must for whom? For myself? That’s hardly an option anymore. She turned to face him. I’m eighteen today, Irial. That means in two weeks’ time suitors from all the neighboring kingdoms will be here to ask for my hand. And I’ll have to choose one of them.

Is that what this is really about? he asked, voice softened.

Maybe in part, Evina said, sitting down again, this time cross-legged and much less like a princess. Irial joined her. I suppose I’m scared. Not even of getting married; I knew that this birthday would mean marriage since I was a child. I’m scared that I’ll be starting a new life without ever fully knowing who I was in this one.

Irial took a moment. I certainly hope that your life won’t end upon finding a husband, he said, smiling at her and getting a small smile in return.

No… she replied. But it will change. Everything will change.

After saying this, Evina and Irial’s eyes locked on each other, and both of them knew what they weren’t saying, what they were both truly afraid of losing. Irial could see her deep blue eyes threatening to brim over completely with tears. They still hadn’t broken their gaze when there came a rustling in the trees. Turning to see who or what it was, they were greeted by one of the princess’s ladies in waiting, followed closely by Saoirse.

Princess Evina, the young girl spoke, the queen requests your immediate presence. It’s time to get ready for the ball. When the girl just stood there looking at Evina, it was clear that she wouldn’t be leaving without her.

Of course, she replied, quickly and fully covering the emotion that had been written so plainly across her face only moments earlier. Evina rose gracefully and joined the girl at the other side of the clearing. Will you be okay with both of the horses? she asked Irial. I could send someone to help you, if you’d like.

I’ll be fine, thanks, he said, standing as well. The lady in waiting looked disapprovingly at him, and he realized why after a rather well-practiced glare from one so young. Princess, he added.

Very well, Evina said, granting him one last half-smile as she allowed herself to be led through the trees and out of sight, Saoirse close behind.

He gathered the horses and, holding them both by their reins, looked towards where the princess had exited. Everything already has changed, he said to no one.

***

Back in the castle, women of all ages, shapes, and sizes were surrounding Evina. They poked and prodded her, painted her face, ironed her hair straight and then curled it with metal sticks heated over the fireplace in her bedroom, and polished her tiara as if the smallest speck of dust might make people question her royal standing. The princess had grown accustomed to these rituals long ago, as she had been forced to endure them on every birthday and special occasion—and as a member of the royal family, there were quite a few. But today she felt restless, as if she couldn’t bear to sit still for one moment longer. She knew it was largely because of her conversation with Irial, and most especially the way they had left things. She hated feeling as though he didn’t like the person she was becoming, because he was still her favorite person in the world. And the way he had looked at her without ever breaking his gaze…

Princess, one of the women said, interrupting Evina’s train of thought. You’re ready.

Evina rose carefully from her chair and walked towards the full-length gilded mirror standing in the corner of her room. She looked every inch a princess of Avalon, from her effortlessly (at least to those who didn’t know any better) wavy silver-blonde locks to her snow white ball gown and the dainty golden heels covered in iridescent butterfly wings. Her elven ears were the only thing that set her apart from the other Avalonians, but they only served to make her more beautiful. All of the women in the room looked at her in awe, wishing they were as stunning and lucky as she. It was glances such as these that made Evina feel wrong for thinking she was missing anything at all.

As they escorted her down the long hallway which led to the entrance of the grand staircase and the ballroom of the castle, Evina saw Aislinn standing in the entryway, awaiting her daughter. The princess immediately relaxed at the sight. Aislinn grabbed her hand and squeezed. Ready? she asked, with a little smile.

Evina nodded and they emerged from the darkness to greet the people of their kingdom. Standing atop the polished ivory and gold staircase, Evina could see the face of every guest there that evening, and there were many. All eyes were on the princess, who had finally come of age. They knew that soon Evina would marry and take over responsibility for Avalon, with Aislinn’s guidance.

Aislinn and Evina granted the audience their enchanting smiles, and then descended the staircase as the orchestra began to play. Evina tried to maintain her placid appearance as she scanned the sea of faces for Irial. She saw thousands of exquisite fairies looking back at her with love and respect, but not him. Aislinn squeezed her hand again.

Is there something wrong? she asked her daughter through teeth still holding a smile.

Not at all, Evina replied. And for the rest of the night she pretended that was true.

Later that evening, Aislinn was dancing with Duke Byrne, a kind man Evina had known since childhood. The princess smiled to see her mother and all of their people clearly enjoying themselves. At events like this, people had a way of forgetting class standing and reputation so that even the lowest commoner might dance with a noble. As she looked across the great room swarming with laughing couples, children running and playing, and fairies drinking bubbly liquor made from Avalonian berries, Evina finally caught a glimpse of Irial.

He was drinking from a golden chalice and standing with a dazzlingly lovely woman, laughing at something she had said. Evina watched as he set the drink down on a nearby table and the couple moved to the dance floor, where they joined the fairy jig that was taking place. The princess looked away, never breaking her smile. But she couldn’t be distracted for very long. Irial looked particularly stunning in a shirt so light blue it was almost white, and it was open just enough to give everyone a glimpse of his strong, tanned chest. All the colors in his eyes were brought out especially by the color of the tunic, and suddenly Evina couldn’t help but think of how much she loved when those entrancing eyes were fixed on her. His hair wasn’t as messy as it had been earlier, but it was still playfully and endearingly untidy; since the first day they’d met at that royal procession years earlier, she had yet to see him with his hair perfectly coiffed like so many of the other men in Avalon.

He seemed to be having fun with his female companion, and Evina realized that, much as she may have mixed feelings about him spending time with another woman, it wasn’t fair for her to expect any more from him. She was the princess of Avalon, who would likely be married within the month, and he was a common woodsmith who had every right to a normal, happy life with whichever woman he chose. Still, when the song ended and, after gingerly kissing the woman’s hand, the pair went their separate ways, Evina felt her spirits lift a little.

Then Irial surprised her by approaching the throne and extending his hand to her with a dashing smile fit for any noble. There were guards and ladies in waiting standing on either side of Evina’s seat, overseeing the celebration and making sure nothing got out of hand. As Irial advanced, the guards tensed slightly, alert. Evina was worried for a moment that they would shoo him away, but since the queen herself was still dancing with the rest of her people, they made no such move.

May I have this dance, Princess? he said in an elegant, proper voice he had obviously been practicing. She felt the overwhelming urge to laugh, and when he winked at her she broke into the first genuine smile she had had all night.

It would be my pleasure, she replied in her best princess voice, for the sake of her guardians. She nodded her approval to them and they relaxed fully, resuming their own conversations. Then she grabbed Irial’s hand and let him escort her to the ivory marble dance floor, which was polished so carefully it had a mirror-like effect. He pulled her to him, hands on the small of her back, and they began to dance. She slipped her hands behind his neck, still maintaining an appropriate distance.

Have you been enjoying the evening? she said pleasantly, not wanting him to know she had been watching.

Very much, Irial replied. The queen certainly knows how to throw a party! How have you been?

This conversation was already killing Evina, as all she wanted to do was resolve things from earlier. And since it was her birthday, and she knew she had a very limited amount of time before she would be married off and wouldn’t have any more chances, she began to guide Irial in their dance. His eyes widened but he followed her lead. She danced them over to the side of the room, and upon making sure everyone was still engrossed in their own amusements, she continued until they were standing behind one of the massive marble pillars that extended upward to the intricately carved ceiling hundreds of feet above.

They found themselves out on the balcony then, underneath a full harvest moon. It reminded Evina of a simpler time, when she was a child and would lay out a blanket on her own balcony and rest there, watching the moon rise and the stars begin to twinkle, when she didn’t have to worry about losing her spirit and her uniqueness, or her best friend. She could tell that Irial was waiting for her to break the silence.

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said today, she said. And I think you’re right. Maybe I am letting them take over and decide who I am.

He shook his head. I wasn’t right, Irial protested. I was horrible. You were just trying to tell me how you felt, which I prompted you to do, and then I made you feel even worse about everything.

No, you did what any good friend would do; you told me the truth. And you’re one of the few people in my life who are willing to do that anymore, so I don’t want you to stop because you think it might upset me…I mean, it probably will upset me, she said, and Evina could see Irial’s dimple crease his cheek, but I need somebody to help me keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.

And it seems I’m that person, he said. He pulled her into a hug, and in his strong arms Evina felt as though nothing could ever harm her. Then Irial spoke softly into her hair, I’ll be whoever and whatever you need me to be, Evie. Forever.

The princess pulled out of their hug slightly, peering into her best friend’s eyes. Suddenly he looked quite different to her. Evina didn’t even think as she leaned back in, because all she wanted at that moment was to feel Irial’s lips on hers.

Just then, Aislinn’s voice rang out over the crowd, calling for Princess Evina to come see the presentation of her magnificent birthday cake. Irial looked down, smiling, and his hair fell forward into his eyes. Evina laughed a little and wondered if perhaps it was for the better. The last thing she needed was for things in her life to become even more complicated.

Be seeing you, she said quickly, squeezing his hand.

Goodnight, Evie. And happy birthday, Irial replied.

She was smiling as she emerged from their hiding spot and walked straight into the view of the entire kingdom, but Irial glimpsed the sadness in her eyes that nobody else chose to see.

2.

If I could only…just…reach… a voice from high in the treetops said. As the young woman who owned this voice extended her body fully across one of the seemingly stronger limbs of the mulberry tree she was climbing and reached to pluck a berry-heavy stem, suddenly she heard a loud snap. She quickly grasped a branch above and hung on tight as the entire limb supporting her fell to the forest floor, ripping a gaping hole in her leggings and breaking the pleasant stillness of the afternoon.

AIDAN! there came a bellow from the large stone building nearby. Strictly speaking, this mulberry tree, which offered the sweetest and juiciest berries for miles, was on the property of Padraig, the village’s tavern keeper.

Inhaling sharply, Aidan swung her legs up to meet the branch and descended with ease from the tree. She knew Padraig well enough to know that a sound verbal lashing would soon follow.

Damn, she said, looking down at the mess she had made of her pants and trying to pull the edges of the tear back together as if that might mend it.

If I see you’ve been climbing one of my trees again— he began as he tramped out of his tavern, rough hands still drying a pint glass. His words ceased as his beard-covered jaw dropped. There he saw her, a young elven woman with leaves and twigs sticking out from her golden brown hair, hole in her pants and her berry-stained lips twisted into a forced smile, standing before him with the remnants of his tree close behind. She gave a cautious, hopeful smile; on rare occasions, it had been enough to get her out of trouble.

How is it that such a little thing can do such damage? Padraig said, exasperated but appearing to be too tired for a full-fledged fight at the moment. Aidan relaxed at his tone and began picking the leaves from her hair. I swear, girl, you’ll take down half the forest.

Just give me time! she said cheerily. Aidan realized he was still a bit upset. Need I remind you that I keep all the animals away from your precious berries? It had been her unofficial job since she was a child to protect the village by hunting the wolves, raccoons, and other creatures that might be out to get into their food stores.

Fine job you’ve done of that. If only you could protect them from yourself! he retorted.

Alright, Aidan said. She pranced over to the fallen log and picked her prize, the stem full of scrumptious berries so darkly crimson they were almost black. She walked back and held it out to Padraig as a peace offering. I suppose you should at least enjoy the fruits of my labor.

Oh should I? he laughed. Being that it is my tree, on my property, I would say so! he reached out and grabbed the whole bunch right from Aidan’s hand, shaking his head at the girl’s cheekiness.

Fine, take them all, she said, sighing. "I suppose Mell doesn’t need one of Fia’s famous mulberry cobblers as her homecoming present. Even though she’s traveled all the way back from Glasnevin to be home for my birthday…"

Padraig stopped shaking his head and instantly looked interested. Mell’s coming home today?

Could be here any minute.

Well that’s hardly enough time to make a cobbler anyway.

Fia works quickly, you know that. Besides, Aidan said, walking towards Padraig and readying herself for what she knew was going to come, it’s not going to be served until my party tonight…you can come, if you want.

The tavern keeper knew the sneaky girl had gotten the better of him, as she so often got the better of everyone. But he would rather surrender now and get to see a glimpse of Mell than continue their battle. Without a word he returned Aidan’s prize. She didn’t even have to gloat to enjoy the moment.

Thank you, she chirped, offering a real smile this time. See you tonight!

With that, she skipped off with her berries in hand, still managing to jump and grab at a leaf from an overhanging branch, which in turn snapped off and fell to the ground behind her. Padraig saw her stop for a moment as she looked at the branch, then glanced back at him and laughed mischievously. He couldn’t help but give a chuckle as well. Shaking his head again and mumbling to himself, he turned towards the wreckage Aidan had left behind as she ran off into the forest.

***

There was a light knock on the door, and not a moment later it opened and a lovely woman entered before Aidan had a chance to respond. ’Passed the tree outside Padraig’s on my way here. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? the young woman said playfully, eyeing the mulberries on the kitchen table where Aidan sat.

What can I say? I would do anything for your cobbler, Aidan smiled back at Fia, her fast friend since childhood.

"Happy birthday, my