The little girl played beneath the protective shade of the ancient pine tree. She commanded a humble army of small wooden figurines, skillfully carved by her father from fallen bark fragments of that very tree. She had five soldiers, three archers, and two knights, complete with their horses. Brave troops defending Princess Estela from the fearsome dragon Burntface.

  Though Estela was a rag doll three times their size, the wicked reptile wanted to snatch her away to his lair and marry her. But poor Burntface had broken a wing after a fall during one of his flights and no longer looked so menacing. Her daddy had promised to fix it as soon as he had a free moment.

  Today was a special day. It was her seventh birthday. Her parents had been preparing the celebration since early morning, and although she’d helped a little, she had managed to sneak away to play outside. Noon was approaching, and the warm summer light of Sunno felt pleasant. The thick layer of dry pine needles under her feet was soft and cushiony, though they always ended up sticking to her skirt, earning her scoldings from her mommy to be more careful.

  She heard the creak of the house door opening and saw her mommy step out, just as if she’d been thinking about her. A wicker basket balanced against her hip, filled with clothes to hang. She waved, and the girl returned the gesture with a wide smile.

  Her mommy was very beautiful—tall and dark-haired, though her eyes always seemed to hold a hint of sadness. She wore a green scarf over her head and a matching dress that was starting to stretch tightly over her growing belly. A baby brother—or perhaps a sister—was growing there. Her daddy wasn’t certain, but her mommy insisted it would be a boy.

  “Honey, aren’t you dressed yet? Your uncles will be here any minute,” her mom gently chided as she walked past, heading toward the clotheslines.

  “But Mommy, Burntface is going to take the princess to his lair, and the knights haven’t won yet, and…”

  “Sweetheart, the princess is so big that with one swing of her hand, she could crush the dragon, the soldiers, and the knights all at once,” interrupted a voice from behind the tree trunk, laughing.

  It was her dad, who loved surprising her. He could move silently, and sometimes he’d teach her how to walk, jump, and climb like he did. Other times, he taught her tricks, like picking locks or setting traps to know if an animal had approached. Like her mommy, he was tall and slender, though he moved with less grace. “Gangly”—she’d heard her mommy call him once, with affection.

  “Come now, little one. Do as your mommy says. Go put on clean clothes and help me set the table while she finishes in the kitchen.”

  “But Daddy…”

  “No ‘buts.’ If you behave, I’ll carve another soldier. This time, a prince.”

  “No, you have to fix Burntface’s wing first! You promised!” she demanded, crossing her arms and frowning.

  “Of course, sweetheart. But first, let’s get ready. Your uncles will be here soon. And don’t pout so much; you’ll wrinkle your pretty face.”

  “Daddy…!” she whined, trying to sound offended, but failing to suppress a giggle.

  Her dad was setting up the outdoor table. The weather was perfect for dining outside. As she brought out some clean plates, she heard horses whinnying, and soon two riders appeared through the break in the rock wall that sheltered their home. She recognized them immediately.

  Their horses were fine breeds, and they wore elegant, expensive clothing. Behind them trailed two packhorses laden with bulky bundles. They must have brought gifts—they always did. She ran towards them.

  “Auntie! Uncle! I’m so glad you’re here!”

  The woman threw back her hood, revealing her golden hair, and jumped gracefully from her horse to scoop the girl into a warm hug.

  “Oh, my little one! I’ve missed you so much!”

  Her aunt was younger than her mommy, a little shorter, and slightly fuller in figure. She always seemed to be smiling. Her uncle playfully pulled her from her aunt’s arms and spun her in the air, making her laugh uncontrollably.

  “Well, well, who do we have here? My favorite niece, little Edel! You’ve grown so much!”

  “Stop it, or you’ll make her sick!”

  Her uncle set her down gently. He was handsome, with blonde hair falling to his shoulders, and a couple of scars—one across his cheekbone and another along his chin. He wore an embroidered doublet and carried a sword with an ornate golden pommel.

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  “Zari, Rendel. Welcome. How was the journey from Sartaral?” said her father, approaching them to embrace them.

  “You know you can always call me Wart, Alaric,” replied her uncle, patting him on the back. “The journey? A bit rough. Bandits, wild animals, the occasional giant… The usual.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” said her aunt, sighing and rolling her eyes. “It was calm and boring. The most interesting thing that happened was running into some traveling performers who had wild beasts. One had a neck so long it stuck several yards above the cage.”

  “I see. And you can call me Toothpick whenever you want, Wart,” replied her father with a smile. “But I think that’s a thing of the past. Now you’re a lord of the Zerdan trading clan… right?”

  “Zhydrán. Actually, I’m just the consort. The one with all the honors as heir to the clan is Zarinia.”

  “My lady…” her father said, performing an elaborate bow.

  “Oh, come on, Alaric. Stop with the nonsense. I’m still me, the same old Zari. Right, Lysa?”

  “Without a doubt, still the same,” her mother replied, who had finally joined them, distributing kisses and hugs.

  “You, on the other hand, look even more beautiful. Perhaps with more gray hair. And more belly,” her aunt pointed out jokingly. Then she placed her hand over her mother’s stomach. “A boy, right?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “See? I don’t know how, but she knows,” her father said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

  “It must be witch things…” her uncle replied, laughing.

  “Sorceress things,” her aunt corrected, pursing her lips and giving him a sideways glance. “Lysa, you know you can also claim your inheritance in the clan. It’s your right, as Danyrah’s daughter.”

  “Forget it. I’m happy here, and being the Guardian is already enough. Besides, you know we don’t need any inheritance; we have enough lead in the basement for three lifetimes,” her mother replied, stroking her belly.

  “Shhh, that’s a family secret,” her father said, bringing a finger to his lips as if shushing in jest.

  “Still, Edel wouldn’t mind growing up with more children around,” her aunt continued.

  “Yes, we think so too. We’re planning to spend some time in Verdemar. Probably before winter comes.”

  “Have you decided on a name yet?” her uncle asked.

  “Brisur,” her father and mother replied simultaneously. Edel noticed that everyone’s smiles took on a faint tinge of sadness.

  “It’s a good name,” her uncle said, breaking the melancholy and crouching down beside her to tickle her. “And what about my princess? Do you already know how to climb a tree silently? How to open Mum’s chest lock to steal her paints?”

  “Yes. But Mommy has also taught me how to open locks with my mind.”

  “How wonderful!” her aunt said, joining in the tickling. “Later Auntie Zari will teach you some other fun things.”

  “Don’t spoil her; I know you too well.”

  “Oh, come on. When have I ever used magic improperly just for fun?”

  “Always?” her mother replied, laughing.

  “Let her enjoy herself. She’ll have enough on her shoulders when she becomes…”

  Her aunt stopped, as if she had said something inappropriate, but her mother immediately continued, finishing the sentence with a conciliatory tone.

  “The Guardian. I’ve already told her a little about it.”

  “That’s a very heavy burden for such small shoulders,” her uncle murmured with a sigh.

  “She will be a great Guardian. Worthy of her name. Right, sweetheart?” her father said, crouching down beside her and placing a hand under her chin.

  She nodded absently, though she didn’t quite understand what they were talking about. Her mother had told her something about the Guardians and about a pendant she always carried with her. But truth be told, she hadn’t paid much attention. Grown-up stuff. At that moment, other matters were far more interesting. The large bundles, covered with patterned fabrics, carried by one of the horses.

  “Did you bring me a present?” she asked, in an innocent and shy tone.

  “Of course we did!” her uncle replied, winking at her. “What kind of birthday would this be without good presents? But you’ll have to wait. First, we eat. Then, cake. And after that… Presents! Because there will be cake, right?”

  They headed toward the house, chatting and laughing. It would be a fun few days. Before going inside, Edel cast one last glance outside. She thought she heard a voice. But there was no one, only a lone gray dove staring at her, perched on one of the two mounds of earth near the giant pine tree—one large, the other small—covered in flowers that always remained fresh, and butterflies fluttering among them.

  — THE END —

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