The smell of burning wetlands wafted in from the streets below, so overwhelming it slipped in through the very seams of the foundation. Hot stone and sea brine, the occasional hint of cooked meat. Not to mention the profuse stench of char that soon followed.

These were the scents that plagued Kealie's existence, consuming her bedroom suite and seeping into the very nice fabrics of her bedding and closet.

Another curse from Naida, she was sure.

Allowing her to grow up in the lavish, luxurious quarters of their estate because it smelled of the very thing Kealie hated.

Smoked, boiled death.

She couldn't escape it.

Not through spells or enchantments, not even when the Laundress came.

Her mother had an addition built when The Boilings became a common occurrence. A faction of the house where her sister and parents would be allowed to escape, to find reprieve.

Naida had conveniently forgotten about Kealie.

Again.

Allowing her to absorb and bathe in the scent of her cooking heritage.

Kealie cleared her throat and lifted jaded eyes to the clock. Only half past noon this time. The smell would cloak the city by nightfall, only to be washed away by rain in future storms. The seaside empire might always smell of fish, but the boiling meat stench was starting to attract attention from the north.

She'd heard about it in the council meetings.

Commoners and Royalty alike, some from other nations, inquired about Luverie's practices. Just as it had begun chasing off the fish and luring in a new kind of predator. Something no one knew what to call, only it's silhouette in the water.

It served her family right, Kealie mused.

Burning her people alive if they wouldn't kneel.

She could still taste them in her mouth when she reached for a sip of water, something to wash away the ashy memories.

There was nothing Kealie could do to escape today.

She'd tried reading and watching telementaries. Even going so far as to take a nap that left her staring at closed eyelids. Nothing was restful in the midst of all the chaos.

Screaming erupted outside her window, hoarse, terrifying cries reaching into her chest.

Kealie lifted herself from the couch, swallowing her thundering heart back down, deep into place beneath her ribs.

She walked over to the window to close it, to escape, only to find a small snake-like beast with scales and wings. The Wyverns of the south coast, long since hidden by the Casters magic, were nearly extinct and incredibly rare.

Her eyes widened in shock, hand shooting up to trace the necklace she knew would be lying there. Raw, untamed power opened an eye inside her, threads of it wrapping around her bones, aching.

Aching like old floor boards that creaked to life.

The tiny draconian flapped off the railing, an envelope in its mouth. It gently bestowed it upon her, nudging the warm paper into her hands before flying off in a flurry of loops and twists.

Kealie took a deep breath, sucking in on the oxygen and silencing the raging riptide inside her core.

Her fingers fumbled over the flaps of paper, revealing a scrawling font.

Happy Birthday.

Without a name or address, nothing but the swirling font.

Not a handwriting she recognized either.

Folding the paper, Kealie turned on her heel and took up a brisk pace heading for the stairs. She found herself stalking through the entire castle without thinking, eyes scanning every room and hallway she tunneled through.

The first sign of life was her sister, curled up in the foyer with a book, her back pressed against the window.

"Lyre, do you know where mother is?" she asked tersely.

The girl barely lifted her face from the dark pages. "Not her keeper," she mumbled, eyes flickering up for only a moment. "Try the garden."

Kealie rolled her eyes at her younger sibling. She had been this way since she'd learned the written word consisted of more than laws and religious texts.

Lyre only wanted to enchant her mind with worlds that didn't exist.

Kealie couldn't blame her.

As she drifted closer to the front door, she heard Lyre gasp and set her book down for the first time. "Oh Kealie, Happy Birthday!"

Kealie smiled slightly, attempting to mask the discomfort blooming in her stomach. "Thank you, Ly."

Her sister wasted no time, diving back into the book in her lap. Kealie didn't need further distraction anyway, she needed answers.

She flung open the door and took her left turn down the familiar stone path. A garden of assorted flowers and fruits. So many delightful colors weaving through the fences and into the grassy patches.

The steam flooded her lungs now, drowning her in the nauseating incense of death.

This cursed day.

How such sweet beauty could grow in this miserable land was beyond Kealie's imagination.

Just as how - through the looming grove of fruit trees - her mother managed to hum something to herself, eyes shining as she attended them. Not even turning as Kealie walked closer and closer.

Without looking, her mother ceased her tune for a moment. "Don't the Honeyfern's look magnificent today?"

Kealie didn't look, nodding. "I suppose..." She didn't have words for that cold, foreign chasm between them. Court officials perhaps, but never mother and daughter.

Not since that night.

"What do you need, Kealie?" She asked in that strange, neutral tone.

Kealie pulled out the small slip of paper, feeling the tension in her gut pull again. "Do you recognize this handwriting?"

Her mother pulled off her thick gloves and tucked them under her arm. She reached out for the paper and snatched it, examining the cursive.

Kealie had never seen her mother go so pale. With her lips pressing into a thin, tight line and her fingers crumbling the edges.

"Where did you get this?" she seethed.

"From my balcony this morning, someone must've left it for me by a carrier bird."

Kealie's mother crushed it in her hand and threw it into the sack of leaves she was accumulating. "You'll go back to the castle now," she commanded, waving a hand. "Do not speak of that card."

"Who would send such a thing without signing it?" Kealie pressed, taking a step forward. "I don't speak to anyone."

"And for good reason, now go," Naida snapped, pointing a finger back at the estate. "Don't even think about leaving."

Kealie's legs wobbled, knees weak and flimsy. Her rage banked into fear and flared again. "What, do you fear someone actually cares for me?" she hissed, pivoting to face the castle and storming towards it.

She didn't need to hear the cruel words that followed. Kealie knew they would be enough to dismantle any mental peace she still clung to.

But as she stood in front of the crystalline door, a window pane wrapped in black oak and handled in gold, she realized that there was nothing anyone could do to stop her.

Not the other way around.

No sooner could anyone stop her from getting answers than they could control the storming seas or end the brutal Boiling's.

So Kealie squared herself in front of the tall, golden gates of her home and took the step forward.

To her answers.

And to her people. 

Word Count: 1,216              Total Word Count: 2,232