Author's Note: let me start off by saying: Thank you for choosing to read my story! So I've stared this new story, mainly because you know, I just couldn't get enough of Sky and Zed. I hope you guys enjoy it and please remember to review it and tell me what you think! xxx
Chapter One: Truth be told
Sky
A nest, I'd been told. A tiny little prune wrapped in the dirtiest of cloths found in a nest perched on the branch of a fallen oak tree. That's what I'd been. When I was a child I used to think that meant I'd grow wings one day and be able to fly like other birds. Unfortunately that part wasn't quite true.
"Sky darling!" Sally called from inside the house, and my head whipped up acknowledging her voice. I stashed my sketchbook under my arm, tucked my pencil behind my ear and skipped into the house, my French plait swinging loosely behind me, leaving my thoughts behind.
"Hey, Sally," I called, as I deposited myself into an armchair, bringing out my sketchbook onto my lap.
"What are you up to sweetie?" Sally asked, glancing at my sketchbook as she set her bag onto the table. "Back to those doodles are we now?" I looked down at my sketch of a bird's nest, a single egg peeking out from inside. They weren't just doodles. They were streaks of my imagination, my thoughts. I'd always had the habit of spilling out my soul onto paper, whether that be in the form of colour, sketches or words.
"It's nothing really," I lied, ignoring my existential crisis. "So did you sell anything today?"
"Yes, I did actually!" Sally exclaimed with excitement. I grinned, clapping my hands in encouragement.
"It's like the villagers all reached enlightenment or something. Everyone seemed to want a piece of my work," she gushed, her cheeks flushing with pride. I chuckled. That was another thing we loved about Sally. She was the cutest when she became excited. "And guess what I brought back for you?"
I raised a brow questioningly, as Sally grinned, rummaging around in the depths of her bag to produce a thin silver chain, bearing a glinting pendant. As I squinted, I realised it was a delicate blue gem in the shape of a tilted heart, wrapped in a thin band of silver. I gasped, cradling the necklace as Sally dropped it into my cupped hands. It was beautiful. Squealing, I flew into Sally's embrace, clutching the pendant in my fist.
"It's beautiful!" I gushed, hugging her tighter. "It must have cost a fortune!"
"Only the best for my beautiful little girl," Sally replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I only had to trade a painting for it." I grinned, as Sally fastened the necklace around my neck.
"You're the best," I exclaimed.
"Hey, what's with this talk about the best?" Simon appeared in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear as he walked into the room, setting down his bags beside an armchair. "I don't believe my name was mentioned.
"Simon!" I ran over to hug him and he swept me of my feet, just like when I used to be a little girl, twirling me in the air. Simon never seemed to think that I was getting too old for it, and I didn't mind one bit.
"Now what's this little beauty?" he asked, pointing at the little heart pendant, glinting proudly on my neck.
"Sally gave it to me," I replied, smiling. I couldn't seem to stop. Sally laughed as Simon sat down next to her, kissing her on the cheek.
"I think I've been outdone this time," Simon said. "And here I thought you'd love my gift."
"Your gift?" I asked. "Simon you didn't have to-" Simon held up a hand to silence me.
"Don't tell me you don't want this," he said, pushing a thick book into my hands. Simon owned the library in our little town, and I'd spent most of childhood exploring those bookshelves, first starting with the bottom shelves, then inching slowly up towards the very top, past the winding staircase and up to where the real stories were hidden. Just two years ago, I'd found a little window right at the top, with a wonderful view of the town and a sill just big enough to house a very small seventeen-year-old. I was quite good at finding special places like that, places in town that I could call my own.
I gasped as my eyes fell onto the cover, fingers running over the title. Her Hero's Tale. I loved a good romance novel.
"Aw, thank you so much," I exclaimed, hugging Simon again. "I can't wait to start reading it."
Just little things, I thought. It's just little things like this that make me grateful that my real mother gave me up.
Zed
"Doesn't it seem like a little too much?"
Of course I was being sarcastic. Apparently sarcasm was one of the few things keeping me sane these days.
"Nonsense," Malcolm dismissed, draping the damn thing around my shoulders despite my protests. "There. Now you look like a true king."
"I'm not a king," I muttered, as he pushed me in front of the mirror. I glanced at my reflection, scowling at first sight. It was an ugly lime green tailcoat, framing a blue shirt that I wouldn't want to be seen dead in. And don't even get me started on the bowtie. I felt like I was choking As if a tux could make me feel like a king.
"And it looks hideous."
"With attitude like that," Malcolm snapped, as I shrugged off the tailcoat, "you'll never be able to rule a whole kingdom of subjects." As if he knew anything. "At this rate you'll be going around shirtless." I smirked, unable to help myself. I was sure my subjects wouldn't dislike me too much for that.
"I'm off," Malcolm declared, draping the tuxedo over his arm. "I shall have it fitted right away and I'll see you tomorrow, I presume?" I barely just managed the decency to nod, let alone reply. As soon as he left the room, I collapsed into an armchair, sighing as I rocked back and forth, brooding in solitude.
Knock, knock.
"Go away," I called, as the door swung open disobediently.
"And is that any way to address your subjects, King Zed?" Registering the sarcasm behind the comment, I grinned, as Brandon walked into the room, setting down a plate of his famous oatmeal raisin cookies in front of me. They were the best.
"Shut up," I said, tucking into a cookie. Brandon slapped my shoulder with his tray.
"Well clearly someone failed to teach you manners. How did it go?" he asked, perching onto the armrest of my chair.
"Awful," I replied, through the cookie, still depressed. "If you'd seen how hideous that tux was, you would have projectile-vomited all over it. Which wouldn't make a difference because the tux would be the same colour."
"Ew," he said, making a face. "Well at least Malcolm has a pretty face." Now it was my turn to make a face. "What? I'm just saying."
"But I want to more than just say. I want to run away from all this. I wasn't made to be a king, Bran." Brandon worked in our castle, as my mother had taken him in when his parents had passed away a few years ago. He was the same age as me and we'd spent years running around the castle playing games and hanging around in the woods, talking about the stupidest of things, like real life was still miles away. And now, all of that seemed to be coming to an end.
My father was ill, and my mother didn't think either of them should rule for any longer when they had a line of sons waiting for the throne. That much, we knew already. And according to the prophecy of my father's fortune-teller, the kingdom would only be able to prosper if it were to be led by the youngest son of the standing king. And naturally the fortune-teller's words were to become the future of the kingdom.
"Zed?" I heard my mother's voice before she appeared. "Good evening, dear." She smiled at Bran who greeted her, and made a silly excuse to leave us alone.
"It should be Trace, Mum," I began, before she could even open her mouth for words. "I was never meant to be king."
"Sweetie, the world works in mysterious ways," she said. Mysteriously stupid ways. "And if this is fate's way, then it is the path we must follow." I sighed and Mum reached forward to ruffle my hair. I used to hate it when she did that, but today I found comfort in her gesture. Today I didn't want to be Prince Zed, the reckless royal; I wanted to be a boy again.
"But seriously, King Trace- doesn't it have a ring to it?" Mum laughed, but her laughter faded as her face adopted a serious expression. That was never a good thing.
"Zed, I need to talk to you about something," she began, sitting down beside me. "Well, your recent actions haven't exactly gone down well with the public and some people are beginning to doubt your ability to rule." I looked up, hoping it meant what I thought it meant. I wasn't completely ashamed of myself. I was a teenager- what else did people expect? It was none of their business to dwell into my life, wondering who my new girlfriend was, or what I had been up to the night before. It was my life. But if this gave me a reason to step down from my responsibility to rule, then I didn't regret it one bit.
"So?"
"So..." my mother hesitated, her voice faltering. My breath hitched in my windpipe. "So we've decided that there is one way for you to prove to the public that you are worthy enough to be their King." No, this wasn't what I'd been hoping to hear.
"And it seems so that a woman would be an end to this problem."
"A woman?" I asked. A woman? As in one woman?
"I think it's time we found your soulfinder."
Sky
"You moved it? What's so unusual about that?"
Aunt Phoebe frowned at us, as if we were a bunch of strange creatures. Which was ironic considering she was the fairy in the room.
"Phoebe, where have you been for the past few minutes?" Sally asked, hand on head. Sometimes Aunt Phoebe tended to be a little dim-witted. But we loved her nonetheless.
Phoebe was a fairy. She was the only one in the family, Sally said. Aunt Phoebe had been blessed with fairy dust when she was six and had lived her life a fairy ever since. No one was quite sure how long her lifespan was to be, but she'd seemed to be aging normally so far.
"Okay, okay," Aunt Phoebe said, shaking her head as if dispelling the negative vibes. Also, Phoebe was one of the strangest women I knew. "So you're telling me that you moved the vase without touching it?"
"Yes, Aunty," I said. "At least we've been trying to tell you that."
"Well you're either a fairy or a savant, and since you don't have wings, I'm guessing you're the latter," Phoebe concluded, clapping her hands with glee. Simon stroked his goatee, as baffled as ever. Aunt Phoebe grabbed Sally's hand and shook it, excitedly. "Congratulations, she's a savant!"
"Uh, Phoebe, we have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Simon said. Normally I would have laughed at Simon's expression, but since I was making the same one, I couldn't exactly talk.
"Well a savant is..." Aunt Phoebe trailed off, searching for words.
"Pheebs...?"
"Yes, I'm not actually sure," Aunt Phoebe said, considering. "But I've heard about them from the other fairies. Savants are really rare."
"And..." I lingered on my word, searching for something to say. "What am I supposed to do?" I was so confused. Baffled beyond comprehension. And Aunt Phoebe wasn't making much sense of it all. Though to be honest, she never made much sense anyway.
"Ophelia!" Phoebe exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Savants! Erynthia!"
"Phoebe," Sally said, putting a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Remember what we said about full sentences?"
"Oh yes!" She turned to look at us, a sparkling glint in her eye. "You remember Ophelia, don't you?"
Ophelia was Phoebe's wife. She was also one of the most down-to-earth people I knew. Which was strange because Phoebe was, well, you know, Phoebe. But when they were together, they were a match made in heaven.
"Ophelia's brother, I believe, is a savant," Phoebe explained. "If we can get to him, Sky can learn about her true identity." My ears pricked up at that, but Sally and Simon looked weary.
"And where is this brother?" Simon asked.
"Well, he ran away when he was sixteen," Phoebe explained. "Ophelia's family is quite complicated."
"How do we find him if even Aunt Ophelia doesn't know where he is?" I asked.
"Because," Phoebe said, "He lives in our basement."
Zed
I choked on my cookie. Thank God no one except for my mother was there to see.
"Uh, Mum," I said, coughing. "How do you expect me to find this one girl in such a large world on such short notice?" Soulfinder. Soulfinder. No matter how many times I repeated it, it still sounded crazy. Finding my soulfinder- it was something I'd never imagined actually happening. None of my brothers, except for Trace, had found their life partners, so why would I think it could happen for me? My brothers deserved happiness more than I did. Not that I'd ever admit that aloud.
"And you don't think I'd have a solution for that?" Mum asked, her eyes sparkling. Oh, I knew that sparkle. It was the I-know-something-you-don't sparkle. Somehow all my brothers had inherited it too.
"Which is?"
"A soulseeker." I frowned, as I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
"What's that?"
"A person who has the ability to track down one's soulfinder," Mum explained, her smile seeping into her voice. My heart skipped a beat. There was someone out there who could find the one person in the world who could make me feel whole? I'd been trying to do that for so long, but there was someone who could make that happen for real.
"W-what about Vic and Uri and..?" I asked, stumbling on my words. "What about all the others?"
"We all agreed, sweetie," Mum said, smiling as she ran a hand through my hair affectionately. "A King always needs his Queen by his side." My jaw dropped ever so slightly, taking in her words. "Our soulseeker won't be going anywhere any time soon."
"And who's that?" I asked. "How did you find them?"
"You remember Crystal, don't you?" I nodded. Crystal was Diamond's sister. And Diamond was Trace's soulfinder, the only one of us who'd been lucky to find his girl. Crystal had been a little hesitant towards us at first, turning her nose at our manners, but she'd warmed towards our family soon enough. Especially towards one of my other brothers.
"Well, apparently a birthday isn't the only thing Xav and Crystal share."
Sky
"Uh, Aunt Phoebe?"
He was a beautiful thing really. Fiery feathers, hugging a sleek body, wings folded by his side, like he was ready to unfold his brilliant plumage and soar away any minute now. He cocked his head, beady eyes scanning us, like he'd never seen a regular human before. The basement was lit by the dim light Phoebe was producing from the tip of her wand, but even so, he was still the brightest thing in the room. Those feathers would light up an entire village.
"Phoebe, he's a parrot," Sally noted, frowning. "Why have you brought us to a parrot?"
"He was cursed," Aunt Phoebe said defensively. "Now don't be too loud. Ophelia's still sensitive about this."
"I can see why," Simon remarked quietly, just before Sally dug him in the ribs.
"How is he supposed to help us, like... that?"
"He may be a parrot, but he's still a savant inside," Phoebe said, rolling her eyes.
"How is that going to explain what Sky really is? He's still a parrot," Simon said.
You know, I'm still here right?
I froze in my tracks, shivering at the sound of the foreign voice echoing in my mind. No one had spoken aloud and I definitely did not recognise that voice. Then how...?
"Wha-?" I glanced up at Sally and Simon and then at Phoebe. And then at the parrot. He cocked his head towards me, eyeing me with a bored expression. "What just happened?"
"Telepathy," Phoebe explained, grinning. "Apparently you savants can do that." You savants? What was she talking about?
Us savants, the voice corrected. We're all in the same boat here, kiddo.
Jaw dropping, I reached for the floor, sitting down cross-legged on the cold hard ground, my skirt panning out around me as if I was a flower. Not that I cared. My mind already had enough issues to deal with.
I hope you guys like it. Leave me your thoughts and views on this in the reviews- I'd really appreciate it. They're might be a few errors because I kept getting distracted because I was listening to Perfect whilst writing this.
Thanks for reading xxx