Page 1 of Fate

Dream

There was a soft light as the door opened. She hadn’t meant to wake her mother—honestly, she hadn’t. But the dreams were hard, and she was young yet, and it didn’t seem to matter how many times Mama came to fuss and sigh and remind her that these were worries for far away.

It ached.

Every night.

Somewhere deep inside, where bonds lived—were woven and formed while she’d still been nothing but an egg.

“Firen,” Mama sighed, coming to the edge of the bed and settling her hand between her small, pale wings.

“I can’t help them, Mama,” Firen choked out. “I can’t help dreaming.”

Mama brushed her hand across her hair, already escaping from the two careful plaits she’d coaxed it into before bed. “I know, sweetling. I just wish it wouldn’t burden you so. You’re too young. Even if you met him tomorrow, you wouldn’t know him.”

Firen buried her mouth beneath the blanket, a little more cross than she ought to be. “You knew Da,” she reminded her. Watched as Mama fussed and her shoulders tightened. How often had she heard that story? There’d been no waiting for the two of them. He lived two doors down, and as soon as Mama had stepped out the door after reaching her majority, he’d beenthere. Smiling andthere, and the rest was a whirlwind of love and family and all the very best things.

She’d seen the boy two doors down. Watched him closely for any sign that he was meant to be hers.

But he met her staring with a roll of his eyes and a turned back, and it made her feel most unwelcome. Not him, then. But someone.

“I wish your father wouldn’t go on so,” Mama murmured, plucking at the end of Firen’s hair and twisting it about her finger. “Fills your head with all sorts of things you don’t need to be worrying over.”

Firen’s mouth tightened. “Yes, I should. It’s thebond.What’s more important than that?”

Her mother’s expression turned a little sad. “More important? Nothing. But... that doesn’t mean that nothingelseis important.” She leaned over and kissed Firen’s temple. “My daughter, for one. Even if she is anxious as anything to leave me too soon.”

Firen huffed. “Da isn’t filling my head,” she protested. It was Firen that asked for the stories, anyway. Liked to hear about their meeting. The way that time slowed and their hearts met one another, and Da knew there had been none as beautiful as her mama.

Which Mama might say was nonsense because they’d seen each other almost daily and he’d thought no such thing even the week before, but he’d tug at her hand and kiss her temple and she’d quiet her arguments about it.

Mama sighed anyway, but took a moment before she argued further. “You’ve years yet, Firen. Promise me... promise me you’ll put them to good use. Pining won’t help you grow up any faster.”

It might. Just because bonds seemed to know about majorities didn’t mean it couldn’t give some sort of nudge at themarket when he walked by. It hadn’t happened that way before, but surely that didn’t mean itcouldn’t.

Da said that was part of the magic of it all. The wonder that came with growing up. Of being friendly to all because one day, that person might betheperson. So shouldn’t she try a little harder to be kind to the lad two doors down?

She tried. Honest. Sometimes. But it was easier at the market when she could smile brightly at all the ones that weren’t quite neighbours, inspecting them for any hints of recognition that might have come just a little early. She wasn’t quite as young as Mama seemed to think any longer.

She’d already experienced her first—andmortifying—moult. And Mama had been sick, so she’d had to tend the stall while Da tended the fires, and she’d worn her cloak up over her wings so no one could see, but she’d watched as people whispered when they glanced at her, and she felt watched and seen.

Growing up was hard. Each bit of it hard earned, and she didn’t like Mama ignoring what she’d managed to achieve. Even now, she was certain she was a little more womanly about her torso, her clothes not hanging quite as they once did.

She might ask for a new looking glass for her name day. Something longer so she could see the changes for herself. Extravagant, Mama would say. Da would agree.

Then it would be wrapped and waiting for her in the kitchen when she came down for her breakfast, and her parents would look at each other in that way that said there had been an argument about it even that morning. Da would shrug. Firen would climb into his lap and kiss his cheek. Then she’d smile at her mother, and all would be forgiven.

Even if Mama would come to her later and remind her to be careful not to take advantage of Da and his generosity. He just loved her so dearly. Liked her smiles. And it was up to Mama to protect him, even from daughters.

She’d try to look firm while she said it, but her mouth would twitch and her eyes were too warm, and Firen would nod and look properly abashed while she gave her promises.

But name days were special. Because each child that came from a bond was special. Her da had told her that with such frequency that it felt one of the greatest truths she knew.

“You’re a girl yet,” Mama continued, holding up her hand to quiet Firen’s protests before they began. “Will be forseasonsyet. Just... use the last of it wisely, sweetling. I know that ache you’re feeling. It will pass. Passes quicker if you use your time productively.”

Firen’s nose crinkled. That meant more time at the market, more time polishing metals and carrying logs, the heat from the furnace so great that she felt near to boiling even during the winter.

Mama sighed, and that did more than her firm words to set Firen’s insides to squirming. She liked when her mother was pleased with her. Liked when she patted her shoulder and told her she was a good girl. They all did. Da said the world was brighter when Mama was happy.