Arranged

"I'd like you to meet my son, Varg."

Varg tries his best to smile, standing tall for his eight Nekross years of height. His mother stands next to him, with Varg's baby sister Lexi standing quietly beside their mother. She's only four Nekross years old.

On the throne of the Ringed Moons of Nekron sits the Lady Veroniza, with the nine year old girl standing respectfully next to the throne. Lyzera. The Ringed Moon Princess.

Varg thinks she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

"You asked us to visit the Ringed Moons Temple, my Lady?" enquires the tall female Nekross. Varg can see already that Lexi is beginning to look like their mother.

"Yes, your majesty. I requested that you meet my oldest daughter, Lyzera. Darling?" The Lady Veroniza gestured to her daughter and Lyzera stepped forward, holding her delicate purple intertwined robes with one hand and curtseying deeply.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Excellencies," she says politely. But something in her gaze as she flashed a quick glance at Varg was cheeky and quite friendly. Varg found himself smiling more widely at her.

"And my son, Varg of the Royal House of Nekron," says his mother. Varg steps forward and, as is expected of him, gives a bow that creases the front of his immaculately positioned white shirt.

"I am very pleased to meet the Lady of the Ringed Moons," he says. "And her daughter, of course."

The Lady on the throne smiles. "Lyzera, darling, how about you give Varg a tour of the Temple Gardens? We have much to discuss."

"With pleasure, Mother," she answers formally, walking down the steps and stopping next to Varg. She is slightly taller than him, wearing a long flowing dress that reaches the ground. Varg offers her his arm and she smiles, taking it lightly.

"Come, Varg. You will love the Temple Gardens, they are beautiful beyond measure."

"Lyzera spends hours in there, just walking. They're so vast and contain the most exotic of plants and creatures," Veroniza says proudly.

Lyzera gestures towards a large arch that dominates one wall, and Varg follows her lead as they walk, leaving the talking adults behind in the throne room.


The Gardens are indeed beautiful. But Varg is not particularly focusing on the plants and the flowers in the large area, he's focusing on his beautiful escort, the way she speaks with such animation as she tells him the names and origins of some of the plants and the graceful flowing way that she moves.

Lyzera has finished speaking of the Gardens' beauty and they have moved on to idle conversation, though formal and polite. They are both of Royal blood, after all, they are not expected to behave like commoners in the streets.

"Our parents expect us to marry, you know. One day, when we are both older, we will meet again and they will marry us off," she tells him seriously.

"How shrewd you are, my Lady," he says, when what he means to say is 'how beautiful. How elegant. How stunning.'

Her laugh is high and sounds like bells. "I am hardly a lady yet, Varg. Whereas you are a prince."

"Your mother called you a princess," Varg says.

Lyzera shakes her pretty head. She is a beautiful white-grey colour with small tentacles furling either side of her head. Her eyes are cold and grey, but dance with life. Varg, seeing her up close, knows she is beautiful.

"It's not true. A lady I may grow up to be. But a princess, no. Not unless I marry a prince." Her eyes dart up to meet his coyly and she gives him a small smile.

"You would be worthy of being a princess any day," he tells her. My princess.

"Why thank you. You are surely too kind."

A silence as they walk, the eight year old Prince and the nine year old Lady looking an odd couple walking formally together through the Temple Gardens.

"Your mother asked us here for a reason?" Varg asks formally.

"To get us to meet, mainly. Also she wants to keep on good terms with the Royal House of Nekron."

"Understandable."

"We won't remember this meeting, you know. They will, but we won't."

Varg stops, turns to look at her. "My Lady?"

She is calm, but knowledgeable, although she only has one more year on her age than him. "The next time we meet we'll be seventeen, eighteen, or maybe adults. The time when Nekron needs us to marry, to unite the Ringed Moons with your home planet."

"I will not forget this meeting," Varg tells her insistently.

"Oh you will. I will too, no doubt. Do you remember things from when you were two? Three?"

"No," Varg confesses.

"When my father married my mother, they had met once before as well. It was in a picture, an old grainy picture from years ago. They were around the same age as we are now. But they swore they had never met before."

"How could I forget such beauty?" Varg asks.

Lyzera smiles at the compliment. "How could I forget such a charming boy? But still, it shall be."

"I wish it was not so," Varg says wistfully.

"And I."

They share another companionable silence, as Lyzera steps up onto the plateau surrounding the fountain. It overlooks the entire garden and the soft trickling sound of the fountain is quite relaxing. Varg comes and stands next to her and they both lean on the fountain, taking in the scenery.

"This is my favourite spot. I come here often."

"I can see why," Varg says.

Lyzera faces him. "Do you want to see something special?"

"Special like what?" the eight year old inquires.

She grins impishly, in that moment not looking like a girl of royal bloodline at all. And Varg loves her even more for it.

"Special as in I've never told anyone else outside my family. Only my aunt and my mother know."

"Know what?"

She smiles again. "Know this." And she speaks, but in a strange whispering language that instantly Varg feels apprehensive of. But the thing that bypasses that is what unfurls around her wrist then.

Beautiful, purple-pink light. Magic. It swirls around her open hand, caressing her skin and curling around her flayed fingers. It's beautiful. And Varg is entranced.

"Magic," he breathes.

Lyzera smiles. "Isn't it beautiful? Apparently I'm the only one in my family who can do this. But I know there are others like me. Other magicians. Other sorceresses."

"But we eat magic..." Varg says.

"I know you do. Which means you have to keep this a secret."

"Secret? Why?" the young boy asks.

The nine year old looks a lot older than her age when she speaks next.

"Because if anyone knows, they will devour me. And my magic."

And Varg knows he doesn't want that to happen.

"I won't remember this," he knows.

Lyzera shakes her head, her eyes sad. "No."

"But we will meet again?"

"Yes. One day we will be married, an arranged marriage no doubt. And we will meet again."

"I - am glad."

Lyzera leans in and gently kisses him on the cheek. And her smile is vibrant and beautiful when it comes.

"I am too, Varg."