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PROLOGUE

THE BOY WITH A FLAME SOUL

1409

“Cali, stop pulling on me,” I grumbled as my little sister tugged me eagerly through the streets of Moonhaven. We wandered past the few homes and shops still barely standing, avoiding those that were now rubble.

Calliope’s disheveled blonde braid flew over her shoulder as she whipped around to face me only to whine and tug harder on my hand, causing me to trip. Despite being a few years younger than me, the five-year-old housed enough strength to force my step. “I wanna see the south district.”

I planted my feet into the dirt, halting her advances. “You know better. Mother and Father said we aren’t to go there. The Order’s still searching the rubble for survivors. I overheard Mama say one of the houses fell on top of them. It’s too dangerous right now.”

More than half of our village had been destroyed in the darkling attack. The only places left standing were a few shops turned into shelters and places for refugees to receive rations, the north district where we lived, and the king’s keep. The air had smelled of ash, burnt flesh, and something sickeningly sweet and acrid for days as they cleaned up what remained of the south side of Moonhaven.

Mother said things would return to normal, but I wasn’t stupid. The adults’ worries filled Moonhaven like a plague as they quietly discussed the possibility of giving up on repairs. Rumors about our people relocating and building elsewhere for fear of the darklings attacking again had spread on whispered voices.

Calliope’s soft green eyes grew bigger, her lower lip jutting out. “But I wanna see if Serah is all right, and?—”

“You should mind your big brother,mikros,” an injured female muttered from where she sat huddled against a wall—once someone’s home, now barely recognizable beyond scorched wood and stone. She was wrapped in a blanket as she ate a bowl of porridge. I’d watched many like her line up to receive rations from the members of The Order.

My nose wrinkled at the scent of ash and blood clinging to her.

Calliope inched behind me, clinging to my arm as she eyed the stranger as if she might eat us like the crones from Mother’s stories who wandered the shadow steppes, seeking to devour any who trespassed on cursed soil. I grimaced at the throbbing pain radiating from the bruise Father had left the night before as her grip tightened, and I resisted the urge to pull free of her. I dipped my head in respect, unable to imagine the horrors she’d seen when the darklings attacked Moonhaven a few nights ago. The dark shadows under her eyes were evident, the tormented darkness seeming to stem from her eyes. So many souls had passed to Elysium. Everyone mourned the fallen queen, and I’d overheard Mother telling Father of her worries for the king who’d secluded himself in his keep.

“Sorry to disturb you,” I murmured, and we hurried past the female.

“Don’t stay out too late, now,” she called after us, and I could almost hear a teasing smile in her tone. “The fae like to take little ones across the veil—especially those left unattended.”

I shook my head, ignoring the female’s story meant to scare children. Mother told us stories of the fae in the Godsrealm all the time; I didn’t believe them. They were just stories to make children listen to their parents and follow the rules. She didn’t need to tell me scary stories for me to do that; Father was scary enough. Calliope tracked the female as we continued down the pathway to the small forest in the center of Moonhaven where the creek ran.

Birds sang as I eased onto a boulder in a clearing, and Calliope ran forward to pick flowers along the creek. She turned to flash a wide grin as she held out one of the tiny pink and purple blossoms that littered the grass. I smiled; they had always been her favorite. I didn’t know what they were called, but she had decided they were twilight flowers, as they gave the appearance of little stars scattered across the ground. I wouldn’t correct her, though Father might have found it foolish.

“Are you picking some for Mother?” I asked.

She nodded before continuing. “I’m gonna make her a flower crown.”

Movement caught my eye, and I shot up, my heart plummeting for fear it might be a monster before I realized it was a girl observing us quietly from behind a nearby oak. Calliope squeaked and ran to hide behind me. The girl ducked her head back behind the tree, and for a moment, I caught the sight of her hands trembling against the bark.

“Cali, that’s rude,” I muttered and gave the girl an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister didn’t mean to scare you. You wanna play with us?”

The girl tilted her head, seeming to assess us. Her cornsilk hair spilled over her shoulder. The rays leaking through the trees lit the strands like a burst of sunlight with each movement, and her eyes were the prettiest gray, like churning clouds before a powerful storm.

She hesitated but stepped out, her clothes in tatters, hair a mess, face covered in ash, dirt, and blood. A tiny carved Pegasus was clutched tightly in her hands, the wood singed and blackened, one of the wings broken.

Something tugged in my chest, something I couldn’t quite place.

Had she been among those attacked by the darklings? She looked to be around my age.

I lifted my satchel over my head and set it down on the grass. “Are you hungry?”

She looked down at the fresh bread as I pulled it from the bag, and her lips parted, as if the sight of it made her mouth water. How long had it been since she’d last eaten? Had she been hiding here since the attack?

“Take it,” I said, holding it out. Her stormy eyes lifted to me briefly, and she took a cautious step toward us. That tugging feeling in my chest grew stronger with each step, winding around something deep within me.

Where were her parents? Was she among the orphans now wandering the streets with no one to care for them? I hoped she wasn’t, but by the looks of her, I feared my suspicions to be true.

She finally drew close enough to take the bread and spared me a glance before she devoured it, wincing each time she swallowed. After she downed the last bite, she licked her dirty fingers and palms for any crumbs she might have left behind. Calliope gained the courage to leave the safety of my back and approached the girl on hesitant steps. Their gazes met, and Calliope’s lips curved into a bright grin before she took the girl’s hand.

“There’s twilight flowers over here. Wanna help me make a flower crown?” Calliope asked, her presence lighting up the forest. It was a gift. She always had a way of brightening the space wherever she was.