Chapter One

Fletcher passed his father the salt, looking towards his mother for a moment. She smiled and Fletcher sighed, cutting into his meat without any enthusiasm.

“Where’s your heart in that, boy?” his father said and Fletcher looked up.

“Leave him, Frith. Thank you for going out to get this meal for us, Fletcher, it’s greatly appreciated,” his mother smiled, pushing her dark brown hair back.

“After dinner, maybe you’d like to play us something on that pipe of yours?” Frith Auger smiled, taking a long swig from his mug.

Fletcher looked up smiling, his face aglow at the prospect of playing to his father. His mother winked to him and he grinned widely. There was a knock at the door, making Fletcher jump, his mother got up to answer it and he sunk into his seat.

“Come right through, he’s just through in the dining room with his son…” Ceridwen said in her gentle voice.

“Actually, I think I’ll come back later, we don’t need to discuss this now, I… I need to go have dinner with my family…” the voice said.

“Well, if you insist…” Ceridwen Auger smiled, seeing him out.

“Who was that, Ceridwen?” Frith asked as she sat back down.

“Just one of the lords it would seem… Lord Ellinger,” she smiled, pouring water into her mug.

“Hmm… he’s a fine young man, best I’ve got maybe. He loves his family, he’s the one who suggests we all take some time with our own once in a while, I understand why he’d say that… it’s important to spend time with your family. Isn’t that right, Fletch?” Frith smiled, turning to his son, who just nodded and looked down to his plate.

“Fletch, if you’re finished then… there’s no need to stay, you can go practise your pipes before you play some to your father…” Ceridwen said gently, a hint of sorrow in her voice.

“That’s a good boy; I can’t wait to here it…” Frith said, watching his son clear his plate before quickly entering the living room. “That boy…”

“Don’t call him that, Frith…” Ceridwen sighed.

“What should I call him? He doesn’t answer to his name anyway…”

“He’s just shy, you should see him when he plays the pipes… he’s the least shy with that of all the students I have taught the way of enchantment to… not only can he enchant he can play too…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Frith.

“He plays it as a real instrument too, not a weapon,” Ceridwen smiled, picking her plate up.

“You understand him, Ceridwen, I don’t. If that boy doesn’t start talking sooner or later, then… then I’ve had it with him!” Frith growled.

“Don’t speak so cruelly! Don’t you remember when we were young I couldn’t speak till I met you! I think that he’ll have it the same, he won’t speak until he meets that one special person…”

“What if that isn’t the case, Ceridwen! What if he can’t speak? What if…” Frith trailed off as Fletcher came in.

“I… I…” he stuttered and his father went silent, trying to catch the quiet words. “I… I hate you!”

Fletcher’s head shot up, tears spilling from his face. He ran out of the room, towards the front door, flinging it open, running out of it. Ceridwen gasped, running after her son, but Frith snatched her wrist in his and pulled her back.

“You can’t shelter him forever, Ceridwen; you have to let him learn that one day you won’t be there for him!” Frith grumbled.

“At least I’m there for him some of the time!”

“I’ve been here!” Frith shouted.

“You never supported him, not once these past seventeen years of his life!”

“You’re saying I haven’t been there for him since he was born? Don’t lie to me woman!”

“I wouldn’t lie!” Ceridwen stood like a warrior, her legs apart, and her chest out, her pink eyes blazing. “You haven’t been there any day of his life that meant anything to him. You haven’t been there for any of his birthdays, or his recitals, you missed his coming of age last week!”

“Coming of age?” Frith gasped, sinking into a chair. “That was… that was last week?”

“And there was no one there to… I’m sorry!” she gasped, tears flooding her face, unable to speak on, as she ran up the stairs, the sound of her crying getting louder until a door slammed and it vanished.

Fletcher brought out his pipe and examined it. The wood was scratched almost everywhere, but it would glow whenever Fletcher played it. He was sure no one else saw it glow, maybe his mother did, but his father couldn’t see it glow, because you have to love something to ever see it glow in that way. He was walking towards the lake. From there you could see the ocean and you could also sight the country of Atargatis, home of the Atargatis tribe, of the Dagon race, the race of aquatic beings. In Yaksha, the country and tribe Fletcher had been born into; the over-ruling race was his own race, the Fae. The Fae was said to be the race of the butterfly, but Fletcher knew it to represents not only butterfly, but moth and wasp, and many other insects alike.

He sat on the lake’s bank and watched across the still waters, glimpsing smoke on the far shore, he smiled as he saw dancing and heard singing, clearly from the Atargatis tribe. It looked like a celebration, which made him smile. The music stopped for a moment and so Fletcher brought his pipe to his lips, and played a song. The song was possibly his favourite; it was a song of love, friendship and of self-fulfilment. It was called The Butterfly’s kiss. He played it loudly, hoping the breeze would carry it to the far shore. A voice sang out on the air, over his song, yet not to cover it up, to accompany it. The voice sang the words to this lullaby.

Fletcher had never heard such a beautiful voice, never in his life had he heard such charm in a song. He knew nobody who could sing that song so melodically or richly. He felt bravery overcome him and so he ventured into the heart of the song. The voice sang with him, into his heart he felt, then both suddenly stopped.

A boat was sailing across and Fletcher felt to ignore it, until he realised it was coming towards him. He noticed that the far shore was loud, people were shouting the boat back, but the boat carried on. It came further into range and Fletcher strained his eyes to see, and his eyes fell upon a beautiful young girl with platinum blonde hair and bright arctic blue eyes.

“Can you help me bring the boat in?” she called out and Fletcher jumped, realising she was talking to him.

Fletcher walked into the water a little, feeling its cold caress on his shins. He grabbed the front of the boat and pulled it in. The girl smiled, wearing a gorgeous red dress and red flowers in her hair.

“So, it’s true… The Yaksha really do speak the same tongue!” she smiled.

“Was it you singing?” he asked, making himself jump as he spoke with confidence to her.

“Yes…” she said, as though it was no different to speaking. “Will you help me out?”

“Yes, of course,” he said, offering her his hand.

“Thank you, I can’t stay long, I just wanted to meet the person who had played the pipe… it was you, right?” she smiled, not letting go of his hand until they sat.

“Yes, my only passion is the pipes…” he sighed. “Oh! How rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself… my name is Fletcher Auger…”

“A lovely name… I am Rhiamon Nolan!” she smiled.

“I rarely see anyone on the other side of the bank, well not enough people to make that much noise!” Fletcher smiled, looking at her beautiful face.

“We were celebrating…”

“Celebrating what?” he asked.

“I came of age today!” she smiled, hugging her knees to her chest.

“So you’re sixteen and three weeks?” he asked.

“NO!” she exclaimed loudly, giggling. “It is my fourteenth full year today!”

“You come of age that early,” he said in disbelief. “I am seventeen and I came of age at seventeen years and four weeks. Females in Yaksha come of age at sixteen years and three weeks… you look older.”

“I don’t look older… to me your coming of age is so late! Too late I would think. In Atargatis I have many roles!” she smiled.

“Which are?” he asked gently.

“I am a singer and a dancer, my mother is an amazing dancer you see… and I help to look after many of the children, and I look after the sheep…” she trailed off, noticing that he was looking at her oddly.

“Can you breathe underwater?” asked Fletcher.

“No! Who told you that?” she giggled.

“You are a Dagon… well… what does your race think of the Fae?” he asked gently.

“Well I now know one thing about your race…” she smiled, blushing slightly.

“Well, what’s that?” he questioned.

“You have slightly pointed ears and… and you have enchanting beauty…” she smiled, looking to the stars.

“I do? I mean… we do?” he replied in disbelief.

“Well, I haven’t met any more of you, but the one I have met does,” she smiled, and then she winked.

“Fletch!” Fletcher heard his mother’s voice as it swam through the air like an elegant swan.

“Mother?” he called back and Rhiamon gasped as the beautiful woman came into the clearing.

“Fletch… who’s this?” Ceridwen smiled.

Fletcher smiled to his mother, sudden confidence to speak filling him, as he introduced Rhiamon and explained how they had met.

“My name is Ceridwen Auger, wife of the over-lord, Frith Auger, I welcome you to this side of the river with a warm heart and welcome embrace,” Ceridwen smiled radiantly.

“Thank you… maybe I should be getting back…”

“Rhia!” shouted a voice, and Rhiamon snapped her head to the bank as another boat drew up. “Rhia, what are you doing?”

A young woman with long, platinum blonde hair got out, elegantly placing her feet in the water with ease. She was the mirror image of the younger girl, only she had a definite femininity to her and her only childlike feature was the glisten in her eyes. She was beautiful and she wore what appeared a dancer’s costume, with midriff bare and legs free. She stopped as she saw Fletcher and Ceridwen.

Rhiamon introduced the mother and son to her own mother, with a cautious smile plaguing her face.

“I am sorry if my daughter has caused you any lasting trouble, she shall be punished when she gets back across the lake I can assure you…” the woman grumbled.

“No, not at all, I can assure you she has not made any trouble. In all fairness you should ask my son, as they were first to meet and you have come shortly after I met your daughter…” Ceridwen said politely.

“You’re her mother! You look like her sister!” Fletcher gasped and the woman smiled.

“I know, I was a mother long before it is thought proper… and her father died not long after…” the woman sighed.

“My name is Ceridwen Auger… I would like it if you came back with us… Fletcher was just about to play the pipe for my husband and I… my husband will welcome you…”

“I can assure you, we don’t wish to cause anymore trouble!” she smiled, smiling kindly.

“But mother!” Rhiamon moaned.

“No buts, Rhia…”

“Fletcher was the one who played the pipe! He was the one who played The Butterfly’s kiss to us!” she exclaimed and her mother stopped.

“You played it? It sounded like… we were unsure who could have played the lullaby with such heart, such beauty!” she smiled.

“I can play it again if you wish…”

“Yes, do!”

“Please, it is getting late and cold… we have hot food and we can give you a bed to stay in, then you can go at morning, if you so wish,” Ceridwen smiled.

“My name is Satinka Nolan,” Rhiamon’s mother grinned.

Lang ruffled Yue’s hair, before taking his sisters hand and leading Yue back home. Lang Ren had no idea how she could ever get so lost, and likely he had no idea how he could find her. For as long as Lang could remember he had this talent for finding things, he could almost sense them, hear things, smell things, see things that no one else could, yet he kept it to himself. Yue held his hand as tightly as she could, wishing never to let her brother go. She wasn’t as strong, as clever, or as loyal as her brother was, but she shared a close personality to him, as well as looks. They both shared the same pale skin and grey-brown hair. However Yue had much lighter hair, silvery and close to light greyish silver, unlike Lang, whose hair was a dull grey-brown. Lang had wolf blue eyes, light and icy, yet bright. Yue had beautiful eyes both of a different colour, one was of the same colour as her brothers and the other was yellow.

“Lang?” she said gently, pushing her short hair away from her face.

“Yue, just ask the question, don’t creep into it, what do you want?” he growled, a little more aggressively then he had planned.

“I just wanted to say I was cold and that my legs hurt…”

“Get on my back!” he said, shaking his head and kneeling down so she could get on him.

Yue was only one year younger than himself but she was petite and skinny, so she wasn’t heavy. Lang wasn’t large, although he wasn’t skinny, but he had long, strong legs and large, strong hands. Yue buried her face in the soft white fur of his hood.

“Mami will not be pleased with you, Yue!” Lang grumbled, holding her tightly.

“Puta will be very pleased with you!” Yue exclaimed lovingly.

“I suppose if father is, then he is a fool, I shouldn’t have let you go out. You promised me, Yue Ren, that you were only going to visit Yo Rogan, he’s not born a Veronsusi, he comes from Nahua, he is a Nahual, and he is Nahualian!” Lang grumbled.

“You don’t hate him for that do you, Freta?” she said, rather shocked.

“You, silly Suma, are not to be hated by me… and neither any friend of yours, you know that!” he laughed, walked faster yet amongst the frosty trees. “But why did you lie to me?”

“I did no… I did… I just wanted to be on my own, and I wanted to go for a walk!” Yue sighed, closing her eyes.

“You should have told me, I would have warned you away from here!” he sighed, and then carried on in a whisper, “We are not greatly liked at the moment, we Veronsusi are thought of as being unwilling to love, we are cautious and we don’t trust easily, you know that. What if someone had seen you? What if it had been someone from a nearby country… then your Freta would not be able to live with himself. I would feel it were my fault and then maybe father and Mami would punish me… you wouldn’t want your Freta punished… would you?”

“I’m sorry, Lang!” she said, suddenly realising her mistake. “I may be guilty, but in future, Freta, don’t talk about yourself in third person!”

“Freta will try not to… ow!” he yelped as she slapped his head.

“That’s for deliberately winding your little sister up!” she smirked.

“Don’t be stupid, Yue… you didn’t tell me father was home right now…” Lang spat as they came into the clearing.

There house was almost centre of the village, and it backed onto the back of the town hall.

“I didn’t think it would bother you…”

“Well, you’re wrong!” he yelled, dropping her and walking off, letting her get herself up.

“Feng Iven?” the young woman called to her, pausing in the hallway and Feng looked up.

“Aye?” she answered and the young women smiled.

“Would you like to come with me please?” she said, gesturing towards a door to the right.

Feng looked quickly to her friend in almost desperation, but her friend looked away and stared down the hall towards the door at the end. Feng shook her head and walked through the door after the old lady.

“You may not know me, Rie Iven, but that’s no reason to feel worried… I am Professor Hisa Wentzell,” she said, gesturing for Feng to sit next to her at a desk.

“Yes, you’re the professor of History and mythology, you specialise in teaching students privately too… however, no one knows what it is you teach them…” Feng said solemnly as usual.

“Yes, that’s because I teach students privately,” she smiled, her blue eyes sparkling more as she smiled. “I’ve seen what you can do Feng-rie and I really would like to take you out of your lessons and tutor you privately, or at least I want to tutor you with another student.”

“It really depends, Professor…” Feng sighed, wishing to be alone reading her books, researching for her essays.

“Depends on what Feng?” Hisa said emotionlessly.

“Who this other student is, what lessons you wish me to drop out of for you and why you wish this to be so,” she said.

“You will not know him, he’s not been in Gunn long and he has been being tutored privately with me…”

“That’s not what I was asking, I was asking for his name, I do not care whether or not I will know him, or whether he is a Gunn, or even where he was tutored, you also are going to answer the others before I really get mad,” spat Feng, her hazel eyes flashing green briefly.

“I’m sorry Rie Feng, it was not meant to offend you. I know it’s hard for you, I had it the same. Look, his name is Shen Unwin; he’s a few years older than you. I wish to drop you out of all your lessons, you need space to excel, being in a class of students which you are ahead of doesn’t give you space to grow, to learn at the right speed or standard. Besides Shen needs you…” Hisa said, yet trailed off as the door opened. “Shen! You’re early!”

“So you’re Unwin?” Feng said, standing up, facing him, her eyes just level with his.

“You must be Iven… it’s nice to meet you Feng-rie… again,” he grinned and Feng laughed, hugging him.

“You two know each other?” asked Hisa, standing up, shock by what she saw.

“You mean this pathetic boy… he’s a good friend of mine, I met him when I went to…” she trailed off looking to Shen for confirmation, and he paused thinking, then nodded, “we were closely acquainted in Iomante, I was actually… well, I was betrothed to Shen, and I think that we may still be, but I was there to meet him…”

“So, Shen… is it true? Is this why you came to Gunn?” Hisa asked and Feng laughed.

“Yes, I came to see Feng, because we are still betrothed…” Shen said, making Feng stop laughing.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, Shen, I was laughing at the professor,” Feng sighed, and then she hugged Shen again.

Hisa looked in shock as the tall boy and girl hugged each other. Even their colourings were opposites; Feng had short, light ginger hair and hazel eyes, and pale skin, whereas Shen had dark brown skin, very light blonde hair, and bright brown eyes.

“Right, so should we start lessons after lunch?” the professor said finally, running a hand through her light blonde hair.

“Actually, I was wondering if we could have the day off… to catch up on things… I know that Ryo and Lei are leaving today…” Shen said, almost mischievously.

“Alright, but only for today, I won’t give that permission again any time soon...”

“Thanks! Oh and can you get Feng to move into my suite with me please?” Shen smiled.

“Absolutely no way! I can’t trust you!” Hisa said, rather shocked at what her student had suggested.

“Nothing will happen, not until we’re married anyway,” said Feng, sounding rather disgusted.

“I’ll think about it…” the professor mumbled.

“Thank you, we’ll be off then!” laughed Shen, grabbing Feng’s hand and dragging her out of the door.

“The look on her face!” gasped Feng, being able to talk briefly in between the hysterical laughter.

“I know!” laughed Shen, unable to say much more.

“It’s nice to see you again, Shen,” Feng smiled, throwing herself into a hug.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see you too,” he grinned, squeezing her to him tightly.

“Good…” she grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him along down the corridor.

Lang sighed, taking off his coat and sitting on his bed. He was tired of this all now, tired of doing the same things day after day. He wanted to explore the country, learn about the six regions, and meet other Limikkin. He heard his door click open and looked up at his mother.

“Why don’t you come to dinner, Gatu?” she said gently, kneeling in front of her son.

“Not when father’s here… I’m not hungry, Mami, I’ll eat later if I have to…” Lang growled, lying on his bed, back turned to his mother.

“Grow up, Lang; your father is trying so hard!” his mother sighed, turning on her heel and slamming the door behind her.

Lang sat up and rubbed his head, the sound of the slamming door bouncing around the room. He picked up his book from under his bed and traced his finger over the river Farfalla, wishing that somehow he could escape the prison that his father had slyly placed around him.

Lord Otieno Ren was a man respected across all of Veronsusa, he was known for his harsh decorum and his consistency of order. He was, to say the least, a great leader, but he was not a great father. Lang hated how ever visit home from his father was about Lord Otieno Ren, the great Limikkin lord, never did he bring anything home for Lang, rarely would he bring something for Yue and never had he seen his mother kissed on the cheek by him. It pained Lang for him to see all the other parents as they flung their arms around their spouse and children.

Lang had had enough, grabbing his coat he tugged it on. He pulled a wolf-skin bag from under his bed and stuffed in his knife, arrow head pouch, the few scraps of food he had managed to salvage and above all more skins to keep warmth in. He heard his sister close her bedroom door and he snuck onto the landing, sliding in and putting a finger to his lips he began to do the same for Yue.

Yo Rogan opened his door, rubbing his eyes. He heard Lang out, seeing Yue there helped him as he made that final decision and he followed in Lang’s lead and grabbed a fox-skin bag, wrapping in his coat and grabbing his bow and arrows, shutting the door and taking Yue’s hand. Lang grinned ever so slightly as they walked back into the woods.