Monica walked into her room, went to the window, and threw the shutters open with a bang. She could see the beautiful day had once again turned an ugly gray, and a fit full breeze swept through the trees, stirring their leaves angrily. It went through her hair and cooled her hot face, although her temper was not at all diminished. She stared out into the eerie forest, glaring at it. Somehow, she couldn't keep herself from blaming the cold and unemotional woods for screwing up her life. However, Monica soon found it an unsatisfactory target for her rage, and sat back on her bed with crossed arms and legs, trying valiantly not to pout like a child.
Because I'm not a child, am I? I'm not 15 anymore, Monica thought, still glowering at the woods outside her window. Why? What happened to me?
But the heavens bought her no answer, and neither did the silence that settled over her bedroom. Chris was going to leave, to become a so-called Herald for this country Valdemar. Which meant for the first time she was going to be alone, completely alone; which was something she was in no hurry to be.
Just below her room was the practice courtyard, where she could hear the clangs of the student's swords, and the gruff shouts of the weapon's master, Jervis. She went back to the open window and looked over the edge, watching the old man drill his poor pupils in the art of fighting until they dragged their feet on the ground and groaned in weariness.
What am I going to do? Who's
going to take care of me? To everyone else I'm an adult, and don't need looking
after. Would I want it? After a second she knew she
wouldn't. Monica continued to watch the drills with a vague interest. She
needed to find some way to make a living, and all the important jobs seemed to
require a Gift, whether it was Bardic Gift, Healing Gift or the Gifts that
Heralds had; like Chris. What options did she have? She sighed and put her chin
in the palm of her hand, leaning against the window seal, and feeling the last
of her anger fade off with the dying breeze to be replaced with weariness.
* * *
Two days and two nights since the twins had arrived at Forst Reach, Vanyel welcomed his much missed sister Liss, giving her a quick embrace after she dismounted from her proud gelding. She grinned at him.
"It's been too long Liss," Vanyel said with genuine feeling, counting the number of years that had past since he last saw her. She gave him another sisterly hug.
"Don't worry; I'm on leave right now, so we'll have plenty of time to catch up on things."
Unfortunately Vanyel couldn't keep her all to himself, and Liss was swept away to greet the rest of her welcoming committee. Withen kissed her on the cheek and their mother hugged her warmly. Vanyel was very glad to see Liss again; she was a close friend as well as sister and even more importantly might be of some help in solving a little dilemma that was continuing to bother him.
Normally, he'd have been long gone from his crazy family and like the last few visits left within a few days upon arriving. But there was something that was keeping him here. Two something's really: Monica and Chris, the mysterious twins, one Chosen and the other amazingly stubborn. Monica simply refused to leave her brother
