It had been a week since Aspen and I had last spoken. But even as we quietly passed each other through the house, I was desperate to talk to her. My sword had lain untouched from that night we returned home. Aspen’s words couldn’t let me go, and they replayed over and over in my head every time I even thought to pick it up again, wondering if I was reaching for the right reason.

  “What if she’s right? What if I’m really just picking up the sword to release this anger I have?” I’d whisper to myself, still unable to sleep, when the whole house seemed to.

  “It’s okay, Wren,” Rune said, still half asleep. “Even if you’re angry now, you won’t always be that way,” she yawned.

  “Thanks, Rune.”

  If Apen’s and my constant avoidance of each other wasn’t enough, my parents' constant bickering was the icing on the cake. Ever since they found out about what happened with that commoner boy, they've been at each other's throats. Trying to figure out which one was to blame without pointing the finger directly at me.

  “This is why I didn’t want her to get a sword,” my father would angrily whisper.

  My mother would do the same back, trying to stop her quivering voice from getting too high,

  “Why? So that boy could hold our daughter for ransom, knowing we don’t have the money for it?”

  “For god’s sake, Zola, the boy was merely messing around.”

  “Really? Leaving bruises on a six-year-old is messing around? Calling our daughter horrible, vile names is messing around?” The fights would always end in a door slamming, and my mother would try to quietly sob to herself.

  Even as the days passed, I found myself ignoring Aspen as she attempted to speak to me. I wasn’t trying to avoid her, but every time she looked at me, there was always a hint of disappointment in her eyes, and I couldn’t stomach it. A knot would form in my belly, and I would turn away just to get away from her gaze. Only hoping that when the night came, the look wouldn’t eat at me.

  Every time I wanted to speak, I felt choked by my own words, no longer sure what exactly to say to make everything less awkward. Corbin, like always, had to bring up this fact every time he saw it. Making my face hot with embarrassment.

  The house seemed to be a mess, with one person or another not talking to each other. Breakfast was weirdly quiet, as if we were all eating at separate tables. No one even cracked a smile when Rune made her usual jokes about oatmeal. She only retreated to her seat when her mother shook her head with a stern look and pushed her plate closer to her.

  As I picked around mine, I couldn't understand this feeling of hopelessness that surrounded me. A harsh feeling clung to me, leaving me tired and drained every second I tried to question everything around me. A feeling that used to keep me up, but for a whole different reason. So I wondered if this is how Aspen felt when she was attacked, when every question she asked herself only filled her with dread. How my parents felt when they could barely keep a decent meal on the table, or get through the day with nothing but yelling.

  Growing up seemed to suck more than I had imagined, than I had hoped.

  And as I constantly asked myself why this seemed so, a lesson came knocking on the door. A loud bang beat against it, stopping everyone in their tracks. Even Corbin came out of his room, stopping his practice to peek out at the Sudan interruption.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” mother replied, nervously watching as father carefully made his way to answer the door. When he opened it, there stood a small, stubby, angry woman. Who frowned so hard you might have thought it was stuck on her face.

  “Can I help you?” My father asked, trying to block her from peeking around inside.

  “Well, first it's ma'am to you, and yes, I'm looking for the parents of Wrenky Voss?”

  With a sigh, my father said, “I’m the girl's father, ma’am. What business do you have with my child?”

  The lady only gave a sinister smile, pushing forward her son, Marcoso. Who had been covered head to toe in all sorts of bandages. She rubbed his shoulder as he made fake sniffles, looking more as if she was trying not to sneeze, if anything.

  “What business? I’ll have you know that girl attacked my precious son; she could have killed him, you know.”

  “Wrenly is only a child; it was a simple duel, hopeful not enough to leave your boy crippled for life,” my mother chimed in, shooing us all into our rooms before we could hear the rest of the talk. We stayed in there for hours, unable to hear even a peep as we pressed our heads against the door, figuring they must have taken the conversation outside.

  I nearly fell flat on my face when Aspen and Corbin swung our door open, telling us not to make a peep as we could finally hear the yelling outside grow louder. Mother’s voice cracked just about every time she spoke, leaving a sting in my chest I couldn’t rub away.

  “You need to apologize,” Corbin whispered as he softly closed the door, “mother and father wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't decided to show off.”

  “Why do I have to apologize? He started it.”

  “So? Do you think the knights, or the courts, or anyone in this kingdom cares who started it if they can blame an elf? They always blame elves.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “Yeah, they do, you might not remember, before they shut down the only school for non-humans, but ever since the last war, they blame elves for everything.”

  Unable to counter his argument, I turned to look at Aspen; her brows knitted together as she mumbled to herself, only flashing a brief smile when she saw me staring.

  “Do I need to apologize, Aspen?” I asked, my voice quivering as I tried to read her face.

  It took her a minute before she spoke, and the worry that strained her voice made me realize the heaviness of what was happening. “Even if you apologize, it’s clear she’s after one thing. She knows mother and father can’t afford to pay her, so she’ll take every little thing we make till she’s satisfied.”

  The room fell silent on Aspen’s words. My mind raced with worry as I looked around our broken-down home. We barely made a few copper coins a year, the standard for anyone in the villages, and she wanted more. An anger burned my lungs as I struggled to breathe; my hands were itching to grab anything, do anything.

  Before I could even think to speak, the door flew open, and Father marched around the room huffing. The moment his eyes met my sword, he swiftly took it. I could barely process it all to make a peep. But all of my siblings followed him outside, still unsure what was happening, I staggered behind them.

  “Take it,” my father said in a low voice, letting the sword slip out of his hands as it fell to the ground. The woman seemed proud to see him in such a state, her grin never leaving her face even as she faked concern.

  “Well, I don’t want to take such a beautiful sword,” she said, never taking her eyes off the gems embedded in the handle. Gems I hadn’t even gotten to polish.

  I wanted to scream, to rush out in front of everyone and take it back, to hold it so tight in my grasp I'd start bleeding just so no one could take it from me. I wanted to be angry. To tell them they had no right to come here like beggars and take whatever was shiniest.

  But my feet were frozen to the ground, and my legs trembled every time I told myself to move. I can’t let this anger control me, I can’t disappoint Aspen, I told myself. Looking at her as I fought back tears that only made me feel outraged.

  Her face was completely blank; there was no sign of anger, sadness, or fear that I could see. She stood motionless as she watched the woman go on in her nonsense.

  “Have that girl present it to my little Marcoso, and then we can call ourselves even.”

  Still unable to move, I wasn’t sure what to do; my father had his back turned to me, and I felt like I would rather die than bow down to that boy.

  “Mother?” I called, looking over to see that she was red-eyed and completely silent. She hadn't looked up once or muttered a word since we all came out here. As if she was trying to convince herself she wasn’t there at all.

  “Do not call for your mother to save you,” my father said in a cold voice, nearly making me jump. “Do as you're told.”

  Forcing myself forward every step I took sent pins and needles through my body, telling me to stop, turn back, refuse. But with trembling hands, I pushed myself to pick up the sword, staring at the lovely steel blade, the fine crated leather that wrapped around the handle, the deep red gems that sparkled under the light. I looked over everything for the last time and, with my head down, pointed the handle at Marcoso. If I saw the grin I knew he had upon his face, I might have lost it completely.

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  “No, on your knees, girl,” the woman said, hitting the sword away.

  Letting out a sigh, I dropped to one knee, bowing my head like a dog does to their master, a starving, hungry dog that was just ready to eat, ready to snap.

  “Both knees now,” she taunted.

  Before I could even begin to lower my other leg, someone snatched the sword from out of my hands. When I looked up, Aspen’s face was filled with fury; grabbing my arm, she forced me to stand up straight as she pushed the sword into my hands.

  “Father, we can not give them this sword,” she said, her voice strong as she spoke, facing our father, “I will work more, I will do more for the farm, I will do anything to help you pay off this money-hungry bitch, but I will not let you have my sister be degraded and taken for everything she's worked for.”

  Everyone could only stare in awe at Aspen; her breath was unsteady as her nostrils flared. She clenched her fist tightly, but as she regained control of her breathing, she slowly released her fist. My father only licked his lips, stuck between the hands of a money-hungry woman, and the pleas of both his daughters.

  “Fine,” father said in a low, stern voice. The woman only stammered, mouth wide open, before she gathered up her dress and left.

  “I’ll be back, just you wait and see how my son feels about this,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  Her words threw me for a loop. Sure, some people thought elves and orcs held no place with a sword, but surely the common folk realized they were in the same boat. Surely they knew they were no different than us, still scraping by on the copper coins they barely made every year.

  Grabbing my head, a throbbing pain took over; everything was happening so fast I couldn’t react quickly enough. Before I even turned to speak to Aspen, she and father had gotten into a screaming match. The two calmest people in the house were screaming at the top of their lungs, drowning each other out as they spoke.

  “I do not want her to have that sword,” father yelled, “she can’t handle it for her own good.”

  “Then let me teach her, let me show her the proper ways to use it so no one else gets hurt. She’s stubborn, always has been; she won’t let this go now. It’s all she’s thought about.” Aspen replied.

  Seeing the neighbors crowd around their doors to watch us, my father only huffed inside, nearly slamming the door in Aspen’s face as she followed behind him. The rest of us only quietly made our way inside. But my mother, still stuck in her daze, didn’t move an inch.

  That afternoon, peace had left the household entirely; if it wasn’t Aspen and my father fighting, it was my father and mother. I could barely drown out any noise as I tried to think to myself, was this really the right path? Was I getting myself into more trouble than I thought? No. If I want to understand people like Marcoso, I need to have power.

  It wasn’t long till Aspen found herself storming back into my room, taking deep breaths before sitting down beside me. Corbin and Rune sat just as quietly as me, watching as Aspen nervously rubbed her hands together.

  “Am I wrong, Aspen? For wanting to be a knight,”

  The moment our eyes met, she held a pained look, her lip quivered for a moment before she spoke, “No, Wren, never think that. It’s just, there's so much about being a knight you wouldn't understand, things that haunt me at night, thinking you'd have to face. Everyone’s just worried.”

  I gave her a slight nod, still letting her past words sit in the back of my head. We all sat in silence for a while, letting the noise in the kitchen die down completely. A door slam made Rune jump, and a slight creak at the door as it opened made us all turn our heads. As my father stepped in, he didn’t move his eyes off Aspen; they were completely dull as he spoke in a low voice.

  “Why don’t you take them to town tonight, get out of the house for a while?”

  “Sure,”

  “Take some copper coins, get them something to eat, your mother’s too upset to do anything, at the moment.” he paused, and his eyes shifted to me, “keep them safe, Aspen.” It had seemed like a glance, but I could tell he was trying to not look at me. Had I really disappointed my father that much that he couldn’t look at me?

  I felt my heart sink as he left the room. We all dressed in our warmest layer, a thin jacket, as the nightly winds were freezing. To the east of my village was a small but lively town. I could often see its dancing lights through my windows at night.

  It wasn't so much a rule but an expectation that elves and orcs wouldn't visit human towns and the city. Anyone who did was met with hostile people and accusations of theft. I could still remember my mother having to defend Corbin when an elderly market man accused him of stealing old fruit. I didn’t get why he did it at the time, and truly ,I still don’t.

  Knowing how humans are, Aspen had us all put on hoods, and even though she wasn’t on duty, she wore a bit of armour and carried her sword by her side. As we made our way up the mountainside I finally understood Zera. I got tired quicker than anything else I've done. Corbin was suffering even more so behind me, and Rune hitched a ride on Aspen’s back, who didn’t even look like she was breaking a sweat.

  “How can you do this every day?” I asked, pushing myself through the chilly air.

  “Practice. I was nearly late my first few days, having struggled getting up the mountain and past the town guards.”

  “Guards?” None of the villages had knights running around, or knights guarding their entrances either. I had also begun to notice that some of the towns were enclosed by stone walls too, tall enough you’d get noticed if you tried to climb over them.

  “Yes, and knowing you, you're probably asking why. The town leaders hire guards to protect their people, riches, and of course themselves. But they’re expensive, so many of the village leaders can’t afford them.”

  “How much?”

  “At least 15 silver coins, every year.”

  That amount of money was something I could only imagine in my dreams. And it was something my parents wouldn't even be able to make in a lifetime.

  “I thought the king paid the knights, so why do we have to give them extra?” I asked, holding myself back from the real questions I wanted to ask. It was clear why they charged so much; they'd rather protect a snobby noble who threw them some coins here or there than be stuck watching over pig pens.

  Aspen didn’t say it, but I knew the dirtyed-up armour she brought home her first day wasn't the standard. The knights weren't perfect, but they were human.

  “It’s not just that Wren, runner knights, like me, take care of simple, frequent tasks of the town generals. They are employed and supplied by town leaders an,d of cours,e the king, but they don't see value in protecting farm land.”

  “More like they don't see value in protecting us,” I mumbled to myself. I watched as the orange glow took over the land of the valley, and thought about everyone it touched. About everything they were thinking as we looked towards the same sunset. It had been a while since I was just at peace with my thoughts, since I could breathe the air around me without choking.

  “Well, why can't we use magic?” I asked, letting the words slip out before I could catch myself.

  “The humans think it’s demonic,” Corbin said, pointing to a tall building on the opposite side of the valley. “See that building? It’s their place of worship, their god is too weak to grant them magic, so they make sure we don’t use it.” The building was beautiful, and easily stood out over the valley with glorious statues around it.

  “But,” he lit a flame on his palm, the fire dancing between his fingers as he made it bigger and smaller, “elves have magic in their blood, they can’t stop that.”

  ‘Teach me,” asked, shaking his arm and extinguishing the fire.

  “Are you out of your damn mind? We’re not at home because you couldn’t even handle a sword, and you think I’m going to let you use magic?”

  “Come on, Corbin," I pleaded, trying to force puppy dog eyes in the face of his disgust, “you can just tell me how it works, it’s harder for half elves to use it anyway, so I probably won’t even get it.”

  “Yeah, I want to learn too,” Rune said, peeking her head from behind Aspen’s back. Corbin let out a large groan, turning to Aspen, who gave him a slight head nod. With his usual eye roll, he stopped us, telling us all to sit and lit a fire against some small twigs, barely enough to give any light.

  “Close your eyes,” he started, not continuing till we all followed his directions, “place your hands against the ground, leave the earth in your palms, the dirt underneath your fingers. Listen to the trickling water of runoff streams, feel the winds against your face, and breathe in the pure air. With one hand, carefully hover over the fire, feel its heat, its rising smoke that emerges with fresh air.

  Clear your head of every thought, make it so that you only hear your beating heart and breathe with each beat.”

  His instructions were clear, but I found myself unable to clear my thoughts. Why was the fire so hot against my flesh? Why did the earth crumble underneath me? Why were the winds playing in my coils and the water forever moving towards the inner earth? I couldn’t stop myself from asking these questions, no matter how hard I tried to clear my head.

  “With your mind clear, tell me what you see, or hear, or feel,” Corbin said in a calm breath.

  “I don’t see anything,” Rune pouted.

  “Makes sense, you’re far too young to even feel magic. Try again in four years,” he laughed to himself.

  “I see flowing streams of water, I hear them rushing in my head, and it’s almost like I can feel myself floating in the waves,” Aspen said.

  “That’s good, that means you have an affinity for water magic.”

  Hearing Aspen describe how all she could feel was the waves of water around her left me confused. I could still feel the soft earth between my fingers, I could smell the burning wood and feel the sting of its heat. I could hear the rushing water trickling down the mountain and feel the air blowing against my face. I could sense it all.

  “Corbin, is it possible to use all four magic elements?” I asked, peeking my eyes open to see Corbin staring dumbfounded, as if I truly asked the world’s dumbest question.

  “Look, wren, I get you want to feel special--” THUMP, before he could finish talking, Aspen hit him on the back of his head. Rubbing the spot, he could only swallow down his anger as he continued, his voice gritting between his teeth, “but element masters are rare, so rare it would be impossible for a half-elf to even think of being one.”

  “Well, wouldn’t you want to become one?” I asked him.

  “Of course I would, using magic is like breathing air for me, but” his voice got low as he twirled grass around in his fingers, for the first time ever, my brother looked down as he spoke to me. Not because he thought I was stupid, or I wouldn’t understand. He knew what it felt like to have a burning hunger, a taste for something you couldn’t yet understand all the way, couldn’t control. In the same way, I let my anger point the tip of my sword, he let his fire consume him, burning everything that touched him, without intent.

  “Half elves already have a hard time controlling their magic, no matter how badly I want to use it sometimes, it would only make things worse. Something I wish you would understand,” he taunted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

  “Shut up Corbin,” I shouted, getting up to chase him, knowing Corbin would never lower himself to act like a child without good reason. We acted, for the first time in months, like children should, as if all of our family's worries fell off our shoulders, as if we were just taking a normal stroll into town. Not a getaway from everything that was eating at us, everything we had a taste for but could never get our hands on it.