Hello. My name is Kirby, and I will be your narrorator for this evening.

This story? It's mine. All mine. It's my ink-and-paper soul. I've been working on it since March 2006, and it's very, very long so far.

But you don't care about that.

Ametris never did have any summary that did it justice. Let me just say, as the writer, that it isn't what it seems at all. The first few chapters may seem unimportant, perhaps downright pointless (though adorable), but they have their significance, as does the rest of the book. And even twenty chapters in, however exciting the story might be, it has yet to reach its full potential.

Ametris is book 1 of 3 with these characters. It is divided into pieces within itself, enough to make a few novels out of. Yes, I intend to get it published someday. Don't worry. ;) You'll know when it is.

Without further ado, my novel.

Prologue

The world is dying.

She has been dying since she was born--nothing lasts forever, even time itself is not immortal. She had thrived, though weighed down by evil and sin, and not until people spread across the world that the first fatal blow was delivered. The first of the Great Healers was brought forward, the beginning of a new age. The world recovered, and since, other blows were diverted, and she was content.

But a new and persistent evil emerged; one that even the First Great Healer overlooked, and all since; an evil so powerful and malignant that it had the power to overthrow the heavens themselves. It was not as a dark cloud spreading over the sky...it was not tangible, not obvious...no one saw it coming. And for a time, it appeared, in lesser forms, was fought, and was believed to be eradicated—but it was only pushed back, delayed, while it slowly but surely crept into the hearts of all like a deathly plague, feeding on their fear, hatred, envy.

Evil never changes; this evil had been there since time began. But it took on new forms, tainted the innocent, gained power...struck that fatal blow again and again...and then, it committed the worst sin of all.

There will come a day when we forget the past. There will come a day when stories lose their sharpness, detail, clarity, and are criticized as mere legends...there will come a day when books are used for entertainment alone, and then only for classroom textbooks, and then, as fuel for the ravaging fires sweeping the world...there will come a day when all love, faith, hope, compassion, mercy is lost forever, when no stories of it remain, when the idea is lost. And that is when the world will die.

But that day is not today.

This is the story of that great evil, long after the First Great Healer struck it down, the turmoil and strife it caused, its motives, its moves, its consequences...and the untainted innocents that banished it back from the abyss from which it came once and for all.

Chapter One: Wings of Gold

Midmorning, and silence reigned but for the chirping birds and the rustling of squirrels in the pine trees. The two children held their breath, motionless in the shadows. No sound could be made, and not before their huntress passed them by would they dare to even blink.

The huntress in question, a teenage elf, seethed with frustration that clearly showed as she called their names. "Kamilé! Everan!"

Not a movement from the two, as every soft motion of hers echoed in the stillness.

"I know you're there!" she insisted to the ash a score of yards away. "And you had better come out right now!"

Kamilé exchanged an amused glance with her companion, who elbowed her in the ribs before she started to laugh. Shh, quiet, he warned. She nodded solemnly, her expression belying the mischievous shine in her eyes as their huntress passed within feet of their hiding place. The elfin girl sighed.

"Fine," she muttered, viciously kicking a daisy in very un-elfin behavior. "I give up, I'm going back."

It was easy to tell at first glance that they were twins; they looked almost exactly the same, with identical ebony hair—Kamilé’s falling to her waist, tangled and curly at the bottom, Everan’s straight and just long enough to half-cover his eyes—identical features, identical pointed ears…they were identical in everything down to size and height. Twin pairs of bright silver eyes looked out into the forest; Everan’s darting this way and that, ever alert, Kamilé’s following anything that moved, from a tree branch to a squirrel to the tiniest shift of a mouse in the undergrowth. After a heartbeat of motionless silence, they glanced at each other, nodded, and disappeared into the woods. Hardly a single leaf was disturbed by their presence; they were familiar with the trees and animals alike, and their tiny, light footsteps made not a sound.

Kamilé laughed aloud, breaking into a run. Everan smiled and followed, catching up with ease. They raced neck-and-neck, dodging through the closely-knit trees and ducking under low branches. After a while, without anyone really winning, they slowed simultaneously into a walk, breathless from exertion and laughter alike. As they reached the edge of a small clearing, a shadow fell over them.

“There you are,” said the huntress’s voice. They turned, coming face-to-face with their teacher, Marli, whose smile told them that they were in trouble.

“I’ve been looking for you since the end of break,” Marli informed them brightly, “I was afraid you had gotten lost.”

This wasn’t true, of course, and they knew it; no one knew the forest better than they did. Marli tried and failed to stare them down with her lacking height; small as they were, she was hardly taller than them.

“So…” she continued, “what do you have to say for yourselves?”

They kept their silence, knowing that there was no way out this time.

“Nothing, huh?” she said slowly. “Kamilé? Everan?”

Kamilé gave Marli her best innocent face, and Everan turned his eyes to the ground, scuffing the grass with his boot in a passable semblance of reluctant shame. Neither attempt worked on their teacher.

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, as if no more could be expected. “That’s what I thought.” She straightened up, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Let’s go back to class.” They nodded, relieved to be out of punishment. She smiled; they knew perfectly well that she would let them get away with anything. “Oh, and you lead the way…I’m completely lost.”

Despite many attempts at escape, Kamilé and Everan still found themselves with their shoulders in Marli’s tight grip twenty minutes later as they reached Kocha’s schoolhouse. Much to their displeasure, Marli shoved them ahead of her into a room that was already full of elves their own age. The classroom erupted with laughter.

“Got you this time, didn’t I?” Marli whispered to them, ruffling their hair. “All right, settle down,” she added loudly to the rest of them, heading for the front of the room. “We’ve got an hour of class left, so we had better make this quick.”

Kamilé and Everan took a seat in the back, trying their best to ignore the knowing glances aimed their way. Kamilé stuck her tongue out to one girl in particular, who stopped giggling at once, scandalized.

Marli took a piece of parchment off her desk, unrolling it. “Today we’ll try to cover more of this lesson. Now, let’s see, where were we…?”

“We were just starting the Thousand Years’ War, Professor.”

Marli’s eyes shone. “Ah, yes. That’s a very interesting subject.” She twirled a charcoal stick between her fingers absently as she read the parchment. The class eyed it warily, hoping that the scroll was not as long as it seemed; Marli was infamous for her expansive lectures.

She rolled the parchment up, setting it on her desk, and started to write on the slate chalkboard on the wall. “To many in Ametris, it is impossible to imagine that there ever was a war.” The class caught the change of her tone and prepared themselves for yet another long lesson. “After all, we are a country of peace. Complete neutrality has been ours for more than three thousand years, a gift from the deities to end the war at last. As for the cause of the war….”

Marli turned and gave them a very serious look, arms folded, gaining their full attention at once. “I cannot emphasize enough that Ametris was not always peaceful. This country was not originally perfect. Peace was created, certainly, but remember that anything that was created can be destroyed.”

The children stared at her. Anything that was created can be destroyed—they heard it every day in something she called “physics,” which they had never heard about before. According to Marli it was the law of the universe…though it seemed odd to use it here. Sensing their confusion, she smiled, turning back to the slateboard, and as she continued, a hint of satisfaction showed in her voice.

“No, Ametris was not always at peace…nor was it always at war. However, we do seem to have a scapegoat for the Thousand Years’ War, which has earned its place in history as the most destructive and persistent war the world had ever seen. Naturally, the one who had caused it all would not be easily forgotten. Does anyone know who it was?”

Jerked awake, the class performed its customary glance around the room, as if the answer was carved on the wall; finding nothing, they shrugged. One boy towards the back hesitantly raised a hand.

“It was someone named Askan, or something, wasn’t it, Professor?”

Marli beamed at him. “That’s right. A man named Askan, of unknown race, from one of the countries outside the mist came to Ametris and to Merista—our capital, as you should all know by now. Shortly afterwards, a huge civil uprising in the city overthrew the king and killed him…it doesn’t take a genius to guess who had caused it. The problem only grew worse as, in a chain reaction, other cities nearby began rebelling against their leaders, throwing the country into chaos. Since there was no king, the people felt that his laws no longer applied, and they were free to do as they pleased—the mistake that cost us a million lives and a thousand years of war.”

“There was a king?” someone asked, amazed.

“A basic monarchal government,” Marli replied, waving it off as insignificant. She was met with blank looks; smiling, she added, “Yes, there was a king. But that’s—”

“Wow!”

“A king? We had a king?”

“Like the merpeople do?”

“Were there queens too?”

“Whoa, hold on, hold on!” Marli called over the noise. The class fell silent. Where in the world do you hear things like this? her expression demanded. “I can see there is still a lot about the other races that you don’t know…the merpeople don’t have a king or queen. Once, when all of Ametris was under one leader, they too followed the royal family, but since the war ended, things have changed. My advice would be to ask the races about themselves at the festival—you never know what you’ll find out.”

She smiled as the elves’ eyes lit up, watching them exchange delighted looks. “The Elders wanted me to inform you that the festival will be held here this year. A week after midsummer is when they are planning it. This will be a great chance to—”

But the explosion of excited chatter was too loud for her to say anything. “—completely ignore me.” She sighed and sat behind her desk, snatching her ever-present book while she waited for the noise to recede.

In the back of the class, Kamilé and Everan grinned at each other. A week from tomorrow—that’s our birthday! Kamilé thought. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as Marli stood up, losing patience at last.

“All right, that’s enough!” she said, annoyed that she couldn’t even concentrate on her book. “Gods, I’ll never hear the end of it…”

The chatter faded away.

“Now, back to the war.

“With no leadership, Ametris quickly fell apart. The four races turned against each other, with almost no chance of ever allying again. There was no good or evil side—there were only humans, elves, dwarves, and merpeople striving to hold their own, and as the war continued, it became a long fight for complete control over Ametris. After a few generations had passed, nearly everyone forgot what the war was even about. And yet, the fight went on.

“This is, invariably, what happens in a country at war. The anger and hatred will live on until someone stands up to end it, even long after all reason is gone. It is the nature of mortals, and if not for one person, Ametris might still be at war. Does anyone know who that person was?”

Faced with the blank silence that followed, Marli sighed. “Come on…not even a name?”

Much to her astonishment, and to that of the entire room, Kamilé raised her hand.

“Haenir, right?” she guessed.

Everan blinked in surprise; he had not helped her with that one.

“Right,” Marli affirmed, eyebrows raised. “Do you know what he did, Kamilé?”

She had no idea, but she took a guess. “He…stopped the war?”

Marli beamed, impressed. “Exactly.” The class looked at one another, and at Kamilé, in complete shock. After all, it was her…She shrugged, grinning sheepishly, and was met with scornful glares.

“Of course.”

“Trying to be a teacher’s pet…”

“Good luck, I say.”

“Marli’ll let ‘em get away with anything, though.”

“Now she wants to be smart…”

Kamilé opened her mouth to make an angry retort, and Everan seemed just as incensed; Marli judged that it was a good time to step in. “Okay, guys, back to the lesson.” Kamilé sighed, sitting back in her seat, resolving to keep her mouth shut in here for the rest of her life.

“Haenir was the first chosen, and he fully deserved the title. He stopped the Thousand Years’ War single-handedly, after all—and he was only sixteen at the time. How he did it, no one is quite sure…but as far as we know, the very deity who gave us our gift of peace crowned him with the title of “chosen”, and the chosen are still around even now, after three thousand years. And most likely, they always will be.

“After the war, the entire country—”

“Professor, who’s the chosen now?” someone interrupted.

Marli frowned. “I can’t say,” she said, with a very sour look. “the Elders forbade it. Really, it hinders everything you should know about this country in general—”

“Why not? Why won’t you tell us?”

“It’s against the law. I’m not supposed to say much about the chosen at all, but it is part of history. There’s a book on it in the library, if anyone’s interested. Anyway, as I was saying—”

“What do the chosen do, Professor?” Kamilé inquired on a sudden curiosity, breaking her newly-made resolve to herself almost at once, if only to stall the lesson further.

Marli gave her a strange look, and then laughed. “Kamilé, you have no idea.”

As Marli went on, expanding on the four races and their differences, Kamilé grew bored and rested her chin on her folded arms, yawning.

So boring…she thought sleepily.

I don’t mind, the thought that was not her own echoed in her mind.

You wouldn’t, Everan, she snorted. You’re smarter than she is.

Since before they could talk, Kamilé and Everan had found that they could communicate with each other using telepathy—conveying a message in images and ideas using brain waves, which automatically translated to words—though they never thought about it quite like that. It was commonplace to them, although they had never met anyone else who could do it.

I’m not smarter than her, Everan objected. She’s a teacher.

Kamilé shrugged noncommittally. That doesn’t mean anything. She yawned again. You wouldn’t be as boring as she is.

I think this is interesting.

Well, I don’t. Why can’t we just find out what the other races are like ourselves? They’re coming here, after all, aren’t they?

And on our birthday, too. A shadow of his contentment reached Kamilé across the connection between them.

Isn’t it great? It’s as if the deities actually like us for once.

Don’t say that. It’s disrespectful.

Dis…what?

Never mind. Everan sighed, resolving to use smaller words. We’ve always been taught that the deities care about everyone, right?

No one’s taught us anything, that’s just what everyone says.

Well, that’s true. I wonder if they learn it from their parents…

Yeah, that’s my point! If—

“Kamilé! Everan! Stop talking, please!”

“We weren’t, Professor!” Kamilé lied indignantly, with her best not-guilty look.

“Well, you were going to. Pay attention, please.” And with that, she resumed the lesson.

Kamilé and Everan glanced at each other, in silent agreement that whatever seventh sense Marli possessed was very scary indeed.

Class ended an hour later, and most of the children dashed out, eager to run home and share the news of the festival with their families. Kamilé and Everan took their time, checking to be sure they left nothing behind. In the front of the room, Marli sat back in her chair and opened her book once more. As they turned to leave, she called without looking up, “Hey, you two, make sure you wear your uniforms next class.”

Everan swung his bag over his shoulder as if he hadn’t heard. Kamilé winced, knowing the comment was directed at her, thanks to all the attention she had brought to herself that day. She tugged habitually at her short, belted tunic, muttered an assent, and hastily followed Everan out of the schoolhouse.

Do you think we’re in trouble? she asked him, slightly worried.

He shrugged. It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing we can do about it, anyway.

If she keeps on about it, though…

We can’t buy clothes with money we don’t have, he said shortly, sounding annoyed, though, she knew, not at her.

At least I was wearing shoes, she muttered mutinously. But where are we going? Back home?

They stopped, realizing that they were automatically heading in that direction. No, Everan said, I’d rather not, if you don’t want to. Want to go into town?

Sounds great! she agreed enthusiastically, leading the way south down the dirt path. She skipped ahead of him, the rich forest air getting to her, though Everan kept walking to fully enjoy the forest in summertime. Around them, a chorus of birds sang, praising the efforts of the bright sun that had finally surmounted the mists curving over the entire island. The tips of pure white clouds could be seen, sliding across the azure sky, and on the ground hundreds of bright flowers poked through newly-grown foliage of every shade of green. Serra Woods was a world of color in the summer season, and everything that breathed in the warm, scented air could feel the life rushing through them.

Kamilé was full to bursting with energy, and quickly lost patience with anything that slowed her down—namely, Everan. She fidgeted with her hair as she waited for him up the path, untying it from its long braid, and when he caught up she left it loose and messed up his hair, too. He flattened it with one hand, frowning.

C’mon, she said cheerfully, we aren’t in school anymore, you don’t have to be so neat.

I like it this way, he insisted, ducking as she reached out to mess it up again. She shrugged and gave up, running ahead of him again.

You’re so slow, Everan, get a move on!

I can’t walk any f—

I’ll race you, then! Come on, already!

Taking the challenge, a rare smile lighting his face, Everan ran after her, racing her the rest of the way to the very center of the elfin capital.

They had no idea as they flew unheedingly past that they glanced over scores of houses, stepped into dozens of gardens, tripped and fell (in Kamilé’s case) into someone’s forsaken vegetable patch. It was a curious truth about Kocha, the elfin city: unless one knew where to look, one would never know that the cleverly crafted elfin houses extended for miles, even leagues in every direction. As far as most knew, the only definite boundary was the Iiyana River to the west…and no one was quite sure, either.

Once the center of the city came into view, Kamilé and Everan paused as they decided where they would go next. Everan suggested the city’s library, as Kamilé knew he would, but after pulling a face she went along anyway with a return of her usual good nature. They resumed their race through the cobbled streets, past shops and stalls glittering with charms and jewelry and emanating delicious smells, all the way to the door of Kocha’s famous library, immovable at the end of the street.

The center of Kocha had been built on a league of open space, the top of a rise near the falls at the river. The ground curved slightly, dropping dramatically at the waterfall but sloping smoothly to flat ground in all other directions. Hardly any trees grew here, save for one drastic exception; a giant redwood, its branches throwing the entire street into shade and protecting the library hidden safely inside it. The tree was hundreds of years old, and the inside at its base was quite hollow, so a century or so ago, a clever craftself had carved the inside into a room, with stone and wooden steps winding around the outside up to the middle of the huge tree’s trunk. This had been converted into the city’s library, with ancient scrolls and parchments stored in the waterproofed annex in the tree’s base. It was through here that the thick door, merely a part of the tree’s bark that swung on iron hinges, led Kamilé and Everan, who burst in and dashed right up to the main desk.

“G’afternoon, Kayle!” Kamilé called to the empty library. An indistinguishable, muffled voice called from somewhere in the room, and a young man stuck his head around a bookshelf at the head of the stairs, straightening his crystal glasses as he noticed that he had visitors. He grabbed a few scrolls in his arms and came down to the desk to meet them, dumping the yellowed documents unceremoniously in his chair.

“Afternoon! How—” He paused, looking around for them; Kamilé waved a hand over the high desk to get his attention. He peered over it at them, grinning as he recognized them through his dust-coated glasses.

“Oh, it’s you two. I couldn’t see you down there,” he teased. They frowned up at him, too small to see over the top of his desk yet. He came around, leaning against the polished surface. “What d’you need?”

“Just looking,” Kamilé replied, at Everan’s request. “Got anything new?”

He thought about it, polishing his glasses on his jerkin. Tossing his messy black hair out of his eyes—and sprinkling them with dust in the process—he said, “You know, I think I do. Someone came early for the festival and brought it from Merista—a complete history of Ametris, all in one book.” His eyes gleamed with academic zeal. “I haven’t had the chance to finish it yet—you’ll tell me about it, won’t you, Everan?”

Everan nodded; Kamilé, losing patience, waved a hand and said, “Yeah, sure he will, but who brought it, Kayle?”

His smile widened. “You remember Pilori, right?”

“Pilori’s here?” Kamilé asked excitedly, exchanging a delighted look with Everan. “We haven’t seen her in forever!”

Pilori was an old companion of theirs, more than a friend—she had acted as their mother until they were six years old, until she had left to explore Ametris.

“Uh-huh. She brought it as a gift last night, she said she was staying with a friend nearby and she’ll see you at the festival—oh, and she said to tell you two happy birthday for her. Week from tomorrow, isn’t it?”

They nodded, beaming. He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Eleven, huh…Well, make sure to drop by, and I’ll find something to give you. It doesn’t have to be a book, Kamilé,” he added at Kamilé’s expression. “Anyway, come on, I’ll find the book for you…”

They followed him up the curving staircase to the second floor, and through a door in the wall. A web of filtered green light shone over them as they emerged outside, surrounded by green on all sides, from the leaves that had fallen on the stone steps to the vines growing on the glass-covered niches built in the tree, stacked high with shelves of books of all shapes and sizes. Kayle led them up several flights of stairs, all the way to the other side of the tree and several floors up. Here, the stairs were wooden instead of stone, and Kayle occasionally told them to hop over a step as he led them to a particularly small aperture in the tree’s trunk. A glass pane covered it as protection from squirrels, rain, and wind, which he slid aside as he searched through the books huddled on the shelves.

“Now, let me see,” he muttered, “where did I put it?”

Everan searched too, though he knew no one but Kayle had a chance of finding it; his “organization system” was chaotic, to say the least, the books piled here and there in no particular order. Kamilé leaned over the edge, bored, and watched the tiny people on the ground below. A wooden step beneath her groaned, and she swayed, losing balance. Everan automatically grabbed the neck of her tunic, pulling her back from the dizzying drop, and she decided wisely to keep away from the edge.

“Ah, here it is!” Kayle proclaimed, pulling a battered book from amid the clutter. “A History of Ametris by Vane…Ilean, I believe. This book must be ancient, I recognize the family name…Well, here you are,” he said simply, handing the book to Everan, who carefully put it into his bag.They headed back down the stairs, Kayle chattering away about the library and the books he hoped to receive soon. Everan peered through the glass-covered niches at the many wood-bound books inside, while Kamilé relayed his comments to Kayle. When they returned to the annex, Kayle told them to stay put as he searched for his misplaced list.

“Did you need anything else?” he called over his shoulder as he climbed the steps to the second floor.

“No, that’s—” Kamilé paused at the strange thought from Everan. “Oh, right! Kayle, Marli mentioned a book about the chosen, do you have it?”

Kayle stuck his head out from behind the shelves, frowning, before he disappeared again. “No,” he said in a guarded voice, “it’s been checked out for weeks now.”

“That’s too bad,” she replied absently, coming around to stand behind his desk. Everan stood on his toes to watch her, first glancing around to be sure Kayle was not looking. Kamilé, what are you doing?

Looking.

For what?

“Found it!” Kayle called, and Kamilé snatched something from the endless scrolls and documents on his desk, dashing behind it again and standing innocently beside Everan, hiding something behind her back. Kayle appeared behind the desk, the top of a thick scroll falling over the side as he ferreted around for a quill.

“Right…Kamilé and Everan…what’s today?”

“Um, the last day of the winter solstice, right?” Kamilé guessed.

“Oh, yes, midsummer’s tomorrow. Winter…solstice…7074…got it. Okay, got it, you’re free to go, and remember to bring that book back soon!”

“Thanks!” she called as they ran out of the library. Once the door had closed behind them, Kamilé let out a relieved breath and took a look at her contraband. Everan took it from her, turning it over. It was, of course, a book.

What’s this?

She shrugged. I think it’s the book you wanted. It says something about the chosen, doesn’t it?

Yeah…but why did you take it?

Well, why was he hiding it from us?

He wasn’t…I don’t think he was.

She sighed, ruffling her hair. Whatever, Everan. I can tell when I’m being lied to, and I hate it.

I know, but that’s no reason to steal, Kamilé.

It isn’t stealing, she objected stubbornly, ‘cause you don’t want to keep it, do you?

Me?

Yes, you. You’re the one that reads all the time, aren’t you?
Not this, thanks. I don’t deal in stolen merchandise, he said, with a look of mock nobility. She laughed.

Oh, come on, she teased, don’t you want to read it, just once?

No, I think we should return it. Everan turned back to the library, but Kamilé quickly rescued the book from him and held it away from him.

Not until I find out why he hid it from us, she insisted.

He sighed, knowing there was no use arguing with her. Fine, but we can’t keep it for long, okay?

Okay, whatever.

So, where do you want to go? he asked, taking the book and placing it in his bag.

She shrugged, sprinting down the street and beckoning him to follow. Who cares, come on!

He followed, and they slowed to a walk as they took in the simplistic city. The center of Kocha belied the fact that it was the largest city in Serra Woods. It had the feel of a very small town, everyone greeting everyone else as they passed, and the trees grew unchecked right up to the borders of the square. It seemed as if nothing from the outside world would ever touch it, with its small, quaint brick shops, the flowers spilling from every patch of earth, and the well, where all the women of the town met every evening as they took their fill of the clear water. They were used to it, and spent their time playing games and chattering to each other—via telepathy, of course. As they raced each other down the street, they flew around the corner and nearly knocked over one of the green-robed Elders. Kamilé quickly muttered an apology and bowed, while Everan hung back as if hoping not to be noticed.

“Good afternoon, Kamilé, Everan,” the Elder said sanctimoniously, nodding to each of them.

“Good afternoon, Elder Carn,” Kamilé replied in a learned-by-heart monotone, scuffing the ground with her foot. Carn was the sort of person it was hard to dislike but not easy to trust; though old, his short hair was still black, albeit shot with gray, and his chest and arms still carried a hint of muscle from years ago. Kamilé did not like him much—he always seemed to be everywhere at once, and sometimes she felt as if he was following them, waiting for them to do something wrong; with good reason, as it happened. And yet, he was one of the Elders—respect was owed. Everan, being Everan, didn’t show respect to anybody, so as usual he let her do all the talking.

“Why so rushed?” he inquired with a smile. “Going somewhere?”

She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Hmm, well, my apologies for stopping you. Good day.”

But as he moved to step past them, he paused. “I almost forgot,” he said warmly, “The festival is a week from tomorrow…rather a special day, isn’t it?”

They nodded, and Kamilé beamed.

“…So close to midsummer, after all.”

Everan frowned at him, and Kamilé gave him a wide-eyed, betrayed look. He smiled, almost mysteriously, placing a hand on Kamilé’s head.

“Have a good afternoon, you two.”

“’Bye,” Kamilé said as he walked off, with an astounding amount of dignity. She shook her head, as if trying to erase the awkward conversation from her mind.

Oh, good, we aren’t in trouble, she said, relieved.

We’re getting good at it, too, Everan replied, and they resumed their race.

After a while, they collapsed on a nearby doorstep, exhausted. The delicious smells coming from the nearby stalls were torturing them; it was midafternoon, and they had yet to eat anything that day. Everan fished two apples out of his bag and handed one to her; she snorted and stood up. I’ll be right back, she told him, disappearing in the crowd. When she came back a minute later, she was tossing a hot, sticky roll from palm to palm, licking her sugar-coated fingers.

Back, she said cheerfully, tearing the roll in half.

Kamilé, did you steal that? Everan demanded in disapproval.

Nuh-uh. Lifted it.

What’s the difference?

No one noticed that it was gone, that’s the difference.

Kamilé, we don’t need to steal, he lectured. We’re fine the way we are.

Yea-ah, but it’s really, really good, she informed him, handing him a half. He took it reluctantly, taking a bite as he tossed her apple into her lap.

Where’re these from?

Um, the bakery over there. Aren’t they good?

Mm-hmm. You always know just the right thing to steal—you’re such a kleptomaniac.

It wasn’t stealing, it was—

--Lifting, okay. Don’t do it again.

Fi-ine. She took a bite out of her apple, relishing the taste of the juice combined with the sugary roll. Hey, um, what’s a klepto…whatever it was?

Everan seemed amused but did not reply, so she shrugged the comment off.

As they licked the last of the sugar from their fingers, a woman came out of the house and shooed them off the doorstep with a broom so she could sweep, so they retreated to the well. After a drink of the cool water, and stopping to bury the cores of their apple in a patch of earth, they headed for the river, still hungry but ignoring their growling stomachs. The roots of the giant redwood extended all the way to the riverbank, and they sat on one, their feet dangling over the water. Kamilé watched the fish and tried to name them all before they swam away, and Everan pulled out a book—the history—and read. Kamilé heard him speak the words in his mind, but paid no attention to it, enjoying the shade and the smell of river water and pine needles.

“The country of Ametris is a small island in the middle of the ocean, with a mountain range to the north, deep forest to the south, and a vast lake to the east. It was found by a group of humans, led by a man named Cyrus, who, it is said, was fleeing a tyrannical dictator in his native country. Under his leadership the humans thrived in Ametris, soon joined by elves and eventually dwarves and merpeople. However, the island did not come to its own and gain its proper titles and notoriety until after the Thousand Years’ War.

“For three thousand years, Ametris was like all countries, surviving civil dis-ease, famine, and epidemics as all countries do. Under the leadership of the ancient monarchs, we thrived as well as any. The humans, elves, dwarves, and merpeople lived in harmony together, though eventually separating according to their habitual environmental choices; the elves living in the forests, the dwarves residing in the mountains, the merpeople, of course, to the lake and river, and the humans keeping to the plains between these. The three races were civil to one another for the most part, united under one leader as they were.

But the Thousand Years’ War changed everything, and after the rebellion in Merista, the country began to fall apart. Around 2980 A.T. (Ametrisan Time, referring to the year Cyrus landed as 1 A.T.,) the last Ametrisan king was murdered, and Ametris never fully recovered from losing its long tradition of kings and queens. Split cleanly in half, Ametris had no hopes of ever ending the war on its own. This would soon evolve into the longest and bloodiest war of all time, lasting one thousand years and killing over one million Ametrisans.”

Wow, Kamilé said, swirling the river water with her boots.

That’s a lot of people.

How sad.

It’s kind of depressing, yeah. But it’s interesting.

What’s depressing mean? she asked, kicking off her shoes and tossing them onto the bank.

…Sad, pretty much, he replied, doing the same with his bag and his own shoes.

Then why didn’t you just say so?

He sighed, giving up. Never mind.

You’re too smart. She grabbed the book from him, tossing it neatly onto the riverbank beside their shoes, and before he could object, she jumped into the river, pulling him along with her. He broke the surface first, spitting out a mouthful of water.

What was that for?

Um…nothing. I was bored, she answered, still under the water.

It’s really cold!

Quit complaining, it feels nice! She ducked him under the water, giggling. He emerged, splashing her with cool river water, and they battled on, with the water as their weapon, until they realized that they were drifting too far in the powerful current and had to stop the game to swim upstream. Once they reached their spot, Kamilé floated on her back, allowing the current to sweep her further downstream. Everan tugged on her arm form underwater, submerging her with a yelp.

Where do you think you’re going? he challenged her underneath the surface.

To jump off the waterfalls and see if I can fly, she replied simply, breaking away from him and swimming with the current downstream. He swam with her, and when they reached a rock in midstream before the falls they climbed onto it, shivering slightly in the breeze as they watched the water sparkle and fall over into the abyss, creating a small rainbow with the misty spray. From their vantage point, they could see the river winding its way to the sea, a thin line painted gold by the now-setting sun. It looked as if the entire world had been forged of bronze and pinkish orange, as the invisible sun to their right dyed the mist a brassy yellow and turned the water into liquid light.

Kamilé put her hand into the current, enjoying the sensation of having pure golden fire run over her hand and make it flash yellow. Her eyes and Everan’s reflected the water’s surface, dancing with threads of pink and bronze as the light dazzled them. They stayed there, lulled into a half-sleep by the rushing falls and the mellow light, childish impatience and impulses fading along with their hunger and their boundless energy. Everan folded his legs and watched the mists change, captivated. Kamilé yawned as the first stars came out in the half-light, and without warning dove into the river, emerging on the bank several yards away. Everan went after her, careful not to let the current sweep him over the falls.

Kamilé took a deep breath as she stood on the shore, and walked to the very edge of the cliff, savoring the spray on her face and the fresh forest air tinted with salt from the sea. It was the best smell in the world to them, and the best feeling in the world to stand on the edge of everything and look down, as if nothing mattered but the sound of the water and the feel of the ocean breeze. Everan stood next to her, ready to catch her if she started to fall over the edge.

Kamilé, don’t fall…he began nervously.

Relax, Everan. She smiled at him. I don’t fall unless I’m pushed, remember?

He smiled too, inhaling the intoxicating scent of the forest in summer. Kamilé beamed, and facing the distant sea, she spread her arms out like a bird and stood on her toes. Try this, she said, doesn’t it make you feel like you can fly?

Reluctantly, he spread out his arms, too…and as a strong breeze from the south hit him, he relaxed, realizing what she meant. Yeah, it does.

The spray surrounded them like a golden halo, colored by the sun, and for a second they felt that they really could fly. The breeze grew stronger, and Kamilé laughed as it pushed her back.

You’re supposed to lean into the wind, like this, she told Everan, demonstrating. As she leaned forward, however, the wind died, and she was left wheeling her arms to keep from falling over the cliff. Everan pulled her back, his smile fading.

Just like that, they were left in the dark, cold, hungry, and tired. They sighed, dejected, and shivering, picked up their shoes and headed for home.

A/N: Kamilé is pronounced KAH-mill-ay or KAH mill-lee, depending. Everan is pronounced EV-er-an.

Love Kamile. Adore Everan. And be somewhat fond of Marli and Kayle, but attachment is never a good idea.

A warning before you go further: a few chapters farther down the road will be rated R for blood, gore, etc. I'll give a warning. Just thought you should know.