With his eyes cast downwards, Kaz stumbled nervously after his mother through opulent hallways and lush gardens until they reached the ivory-laden entrance of Crimsonwater Court. The young boy felt like a fish out of water in his fine clothes amidst the Iman Vatteri Palace. He was more than a little frightened to meet the Grand-Consort. His mother had warned him that his father's primary wife was known to be rigidly unpromising when it came to matters of decorum and tradition.

Kaz didn't wish to offend the great lady's sensibilities with his ignorance. More than a month had passed since his arrival, but still he struggled to converse with others in the palace over the most mundane subjects. Adults always smiled and laughed when he least expected it, as though he had said something funny without meaning to. To make matters worse, he had yet to master all the intricacies of proper Levish etiquette for greeting those above his station and those who were supposedly beneath him.

Just the other day, he bowed to a servant on accident and caused quite an embarrassing scene for his mother in front of her entire entourage. Earlier this morning, he failed to kneel before a high-ranking Imperial naval officer, which also brought shame to his mother on a whole other level. Lady-Consort masil-Kepar had been forced to apologize profusely to the enraged officer. Afterwards, his mother didn't raise her voice at him, but Kaz could see the disappointment in her lovely green eyes when she explained once again why he needed to be more vigilant to avoid committing more transgressions.

As they waited for the servants to receive them, Kaz tried to remember how to stand properly—keeping his hands locked behind his back and his feet spaced apart at the exact width of his shoulders—but he was too in awe of the Grand-Consort's residence to stay perfectly still. The grand hall was far more imposing than his mother's wing. An arched whitestone entryway stood before Kaz. The apex hovered at least twenty feet above him. Carved murals depicting telltale scenes from Sindori legends and epic battles led by the great kings of old adorned every inch of the stony surface. The attention to artistic detail was so meticulous that Kaz could make out the indentations for every fingernail upon each of Devas' eight sacred hands.

This magnificent opening led to an even more impressive vaulted archway featuring ornate fountains and blood red arcadiva bushes on either side. As the servants guided them to the receiving room, Kaz absentmindedly slowed his steps to admire the blooms of crimson and sparkling waters that welcomed him. Crimsonwater Court. What a fitting name.

Kaz was perhaps too innocent to realize that the 'crimson' in the court's namesake had less to do with the color of the Grand-Consort's prized flowers and more to do with the blood that gushed from the backs of her servants who were whipped on a regular basis for the slightest offenses. Meanwhile, the 'water' alluded to the servants' tears, after a particularly brutal tongue lashing from their impossible-to-please mistress, rather than the fountains.

"The sun's gracious light shines upon you this morning, Lady-Consort masil-Kepar. Grand-Consort Ariss is willing to receive you and your son," Lady Hestera, one of the Grand-Consort's ladies-in-waiting announced in snippy tones. "Come with me."

Kaz swallowed anxiously as Lady Hestera led them through several grand hallways and winding staircases. She announced their arrival at the entrance to the main hall. The double doors swung open.

At last, Kaz and his mother stood before Grand-Consort Mirene Ariss. She had fair blonde hair and a thin face with a slender slightly hooked nose. The woman wasn't nearly as handsome as Kaz's mother, but she possessed an aura of authority that left an even greater impression on his person than conventional beauty.

The Grand-Consort stared down at him with piercing pale blue eyes. Sharp and shrewd. Already Kaz could tell that the Grand-Consort wasn't a person to be trifled with.

He prayed to the gods that his mother's plan wouldn't backfire.

—-

Amidst the twilight hours between midnight and dawn, Brenna rolled out of bed in darkness and snuck out of the house—undetected by her mother or any of their servants—while the moon still shone across the velvety night sky.

With only a ragged, moth-eaten wool cloak to shield her from the biting cold, the autumn chill clung to her bones as she shivered in the shadows, but the tiny girl didn't turn back. She continued to trudge her way through the waist-high grassy meadows of Craggwood Hills until she reached the edge of Sinea Forest. As a native of Lachsea, Brenna was more than familiar with the layout of surrounding lands, but she had never explored it during the dead of night. Fear and doubt weighed upon her senses. She pushed them aside and chose instead to focus on the task at hand.

In their stories, Haelynn and Ibeaza had told Brenna that the witch resided in an enchanted cottage. The witch's cottage was located at the heart of the Sinea Forest, and only those who were pure in spirit would be welcomed to seek the ancient one's magic. During all of her past wanderings through the woods, Brenna had never stumbled upon a cottage before—or any other type of human residence, for that matter—but she knew of a small fishing lake near the center of the forest. Lilyvale blossoms flourished there all year round. It was her favorite place in all of Lachsea because the lake and the lilyvale reminded her of mama's fairytale.

Brenna gazed deeply into the forest looming before her. Tall spindly whitebark trees stood like soldiers in the dark. Their leafless branches stretched towards her small cloaked figure like monstrous hands. Dread washed over her. Brenna closed her eyes and sunk to her knees to offer a prayer to the spirits of the trees.

"O Mighty Spirits of the Sinea, may your roots run deep and your branches stretch skyward for a thousand years more. Do not doubt me or my will. My heart is good. My mind is pure. In peace I come and in peace I shall go."

The forest seemed to release a sigh as she entered its murky realm. Surrounded mostly by thin whitebarks and fat singwoods, Brenna sloshed through damp, sodden trails for hours. She tripped over jagged rocks and creeping vines that ran along the ground. Mud soaked through her leather boots. Her feet felt frozen. Brenna could barely walk at this point, but still she pressed onwards. Onwards past the prickly corberry bushes, almost barren of fruit in this season. Onwards past the downy sheclaw owls who studied her every move with their glowing yellow eyes. And onwards. And onwards.

At the first light of dawn, Brenna reached the lake in the middle of the forest. She gasped in wonder. Soft golden rays of the morning sun cast its splendor through crooks and crannies in the intersecting canopy of tree branches above her. Straight ahead, a most wonderful sight that she had never seen before beckoned to her. It wasn't a cottage, exactly, but something promisingly close. A residence of sorts had been built into the slope of a shallow hill beside the lake. Its walls were held up by an assortment of wood and stone, and a discrete moss-covered door sat off to the side, almost indiscernible to careless eyes.

Brenna's wide gray eyes were far from careless. They were glimmering with hope. The girl could barely contain her excitement as she rushed over to knock on the door.