Xara laughs as her older brother's dragoni beats his tail against the stone, plumes of dust rising in the air. The creature chortles happily, flapping its gills. Xara rubs the pearlescent scales on it's nose. Both her older brothers had summoned dragoni at their ceremonies, the first in the family. The Ruffinnes have always been tsunamis. Xara's own Summoning ceremony is in less than three weeks, and with every day it draws closer, the more anxious she gets. She has daydreamed of her own dragoni bursting through the clouds, large and beautiful and brilliant.

Bren, the older of her two brothers, jogs towards her, a wide smile on his face. He tousles her hair and she swats him away. He laughs.

"Where's Cassamire?" She cranes her neck over his broad shoulder for her other brother. Bren is a fifth year, and Cassamire is a fourth year.

"He'll be along soon. He told me to take you to pick up your supplies."

He herds her towards the leftmost end of Fynn's Square where even more leprechauns hand out uniforms and books. Xara scrunches her face. There are many creatures in the Nyx Woods but leprechauns are right up there as some of her least favorite. They're mean, ugly, and impossibly greedy.

Bren and Xara join the queue, and shuffle along.

"Firs' years, firs' years! Come right this way!" Bren gently shoves her, jerking his chin towards the leprechaun on the pedestal. The first years split into three lines. Xara watches as each first year is loaded with textbook upon textbook, and given a small trunk of folded uniforms. When it's her turn, the leprechaun doesn't even look at her. He's an older one, with mottled, pale skin and a russet beard.

"Name?"

"Xara Ruffinnes."

The leprechaun goes down the list and comes across her name with a huff. He hefts a stack of text and plops in calmly in her awaiting arms. Xara staggers under the weight of it. Somehow shifting her books to one arm, she loops her other in the handle of her trunk, stumbling away.

Cassamire suddenly swoops in, taking her trunk from her arms. Xara distributes the books between both arms. Her brother smirks at her.

"You're welcome."

"I didn't need your help, Cass."

"You're sweating."

"Shut up."

He slugs an arm around her shoulders as they pass the statue of Fynn Runemore. As they do, brooding gray clouds collect over their heads, blocking out the sun entirely. The square is bathed in dark shadow. Cassamire frowns up, lips tilted downward.

"That's odd. The forecast in the paper said it would be sunny all week." The clouds began to rumble when an overcoming dizziness strikes Xara. Her books drop out of her arms and she leans heavily against Fynn Runemore. Cassamire sets their things down and rushes to her sides, his questions sounding miles and miles away. Waves of pain flood through her and a strangled cry escapes her lips. It hurts even to think.

Xara...

Every part of her body is tingling with numbing pain but the voice is clear in her mind. She can't hear her brothers' voices anymore, or anyone's for that matter. Every sound except the odd voice in her head has been drowned out.

I am coming.

She wants to ask who's talking to her, who's coming, but the words crumble like ash in her mouth. She chokes slightly, falling to the floor when another stifling wave of pain slams her head-on.

I am coming.

I am coming.

I am coming.

Blackness envelopes her.

✡✡✡

She feels as though her head has been filled with sticky, thick honey. Sluggishly, she manages to get herself into a sitting position as she glances at her location. She's in her room, in her bed. From the sun streaming inside, it's the next morning.

Xara massages her temples. What had happened? All she could remember had been buckling pain and... an odd sort of voice. It had been hard and soft, bright and dark, smooth and rough all at the same time. Whoever's voice it had been, they had known her name.

I am coming.

Questions swam her like wrathful bees. Who's coming? And where are they coming from? And when? She groans and flops back against the bed. It is too early for such thoughts.

Her door squeals as it opens. Xara lifts her neck to see her grandmother walk in, holding a tray. It had two cups of what she presumes to be tea and a plate of Xara's favorite custard tarts.

"How are you doing, sweetling?" Grandmother asks while idly tidying up around Xara's room.

"Alright, I guess." Xara plucks a tart off the plate and chews, watching her grandmother. Her grandmother, Alisud Roffinnes, has lived with them for as long as Xara can remember. Dad refuses to tell her why, using the same excuse every time. That she had wanted to be closer to family after her husband died. Xara doesn't believe a word, and neither does Cassamire. Bren is too good to pry, the ever-faithful son.

"Just alright? Your Summoning is coming up fast."

"Don't I know it."

Grandmother finally collapses with a wheeze in her bedside chair. She has been getting up in age and Mum has begun to worry about her health. Grandmother always dismisses her as paranoid.

"What happened, Xara? Cassamire said that the two of you had been walking back to find Bren when all of a sudden, you had seized up and began to act... possessed." Xara mulls over her words. She isn't sure that possessed is the right descriptive word but she herself didn't quite know what happened.

"Grandmother, have you ever heard voices?" With a grave expression, her grandmother places her cup down.

"No, I haven't." She stares intently at Xara. "Is that why you acted like so?"

Xara hesitates before answering. "I've never experienced anything like it before. The voice kept repeating the same thing but I was in too much pain to think it through." Her eyebrows knit. "It said, 'I am coming', and nothing else. Again and again until I blacked out. And the odd part was, just when the clouds began to thunder, was when the first wave of pain came." Xara adjusts her grip on the teacup. "What do you think it means, Grandmother?" It is then that Xara notices how pale her grandmother is. She has a faraway look in her eye and her lips are pursed in a tight, white line. She has never seen her grandmother so... serious.

"Grandmother? Are you alright?"

"What did the voice sound like?" Her grandmother's voice is tinged with desperation. Her warm brown eyes have widened.

Xara answers warily. "It was almost like... a serpent. Smooth and cold, yet soft, like silk. It was all at once."

Grandmother leans over and digs her nails into the wooden side table, breathing heavily. Her lips form words but nothing comes out.

"So it is true." She finally whispers out, her voice breaking.

"What? What is true?"

Grandmother takes one look at Xara before jolting to her feet and running out.

So much for tea.