(Asher)

Asher didn’t remember the day that he met Kylie Novasca. She’d been part of his life longer than he had memories of. Every day for over a decade, Asher and Kylie would practice and play. She was the village’s best archer, and he was the best swordsman. She was only a few months older than him, but she was placed in the year above his. Because of that, the two were always at the top of their individual classes as well.

Once Asher reached adolescence, he came to the same realization as many other young people: he had feelings for his best friend. However, the day he worked up the courage to tell her how he felt, Asher learned that Kylie had been selected to go to the capital. The image of Kylie waving goodbye during the great farewell was seared into his mind. The sound of her voice as she left still resonated in his heart.

The male dorms for the archer’s guild were simple enough. Aside from the paintings of famous archers scattered across the lobby, there were no distinguishing features. The lobby was also empty of young archers, save for one. A young blonde teenager, likely no more than a year older than Ashleigh, sprawled across a leather couch.

“Well, it looks like Iliastyr and Kylie haven’t arrived yet,” said Jakob, “but a third party wanted to meet you.”

The young teen’s appearance bothered Asher. The resemblance between the boy and Asher’s sister was uncanny. The family resemblance.

“Hello, cousin,” said the boy, “my name is Varis. Varis Setric.”

Asher wished he could have put aside his grudge against the main branch of his family for just one day. For one day, he wanted to enjoy time with his new roommate and his childhood friend. Yet, he already found himself making comparisons with Varis. Despite looking two or more years younger than Asher, the boy already had an orange blade and yellow arrow badge.

“Why so silent? Did they forget to teach the exiled branch how to speak Sollunan?” Varis asked with a sly grin.

“Did they forget to teach the main branch manners?” Asher asked the amused Varis, who couldn’t help but giggle at the reply. Asher sighed as the strange cousin reached an inviting hand for Asher to shake. “The name is Asher.”

“You have eight other cousins to meet, Asher,” Varis said, shaking hands with his newly found family. “But my big bro Vlad is the only one excited to meet you. My sister said, and I quote, ‘that boy will never be a real Setric.’” Varis’s childish impersonation of his sister was done in falsetto, with his hands placed aggressively on his hips. “Personally, I don’t care about exiled branches or blood or anything like that. If you’re strong, you’re a Setric. If you’re weak, you aren’t.”

“That’s some mentality you’ve got, kid,” Asher replied. “But don’t worry, I’m pretty strong.”

Ironically, Asher tasted true strength the moment the words left his lips. Human magic sensitivity wasn’t very high, but even an average human could tell when a mighty creature like a dragon was nearby. The moment the door to the dorms opened, Asher and Varis had a strange feeling rush through them. It was as if the gravity in the room had shot up. Whatever had just entered the room had exponentially more magic in their body than anything Asher had ever encountered, including a violet arrow like Jakob.

“Have you brought me another side character, sir?” Asked a smooth tenor voice that oozed arrogance. A young man, the same age as Asher but with a slimmer physique and younger face, emerged from the shadowy street corner and into the light of the lantern-lit dorm.

Asher couldn’t tell which of the boy's features was most distinguishing. His shoulder-length purple hair, blue eye makeup, or dark nail polish. However, even above the others, Asher figured it was the uniform: a double-breasted white coat whose tail trailed to his knees. The coat's eight buttons had been replaced by Iliastyr's eight guild pins: green lance, green blade, green needle, green drum, blue leaf, blue chisel, blue arrow, and violet violin. Such badges would have looked impressive on a seventy-year-old sage who had finished their career. They looked beyond shocking when attached to a teenager.

Jakob cleared his throat, embarrassed by the boy’s demeanor. “Asher, this is your bunkmate and the leader of your archery team. The youngest to ever reach Blue in guilds from all four colleges, Iliastyr Dusk.”

“You may ask why someone lowly like yourself has the glory of rooming with my gloriousness. First, I wanted to see the fallen branch of the Setrics up close. Second, a very talented young woman recommended you. Third… nobody else wanted me!” Iliastyr said with an unbothered chuckle.

“A very talented young woman recommended me?” Asher asked, knowing only one young woman in the capital who could be referring to him in the first place.

Iliastyr took Asher’s hand and pulled him away from the entrance to face the opposite wall. Suddenly, Asher’s vision went black, obscured by a pair of hands. The texture of the hands was complicated. The palms were soft, the hands of an upper-class young woman. However, her fingertips had the callus of a warrior or a musician. Or, in this woman’s case, both.

“Hey, Kylie… It’s been a while,” whispered Asher as Kylie removed her hands from his eyes. His childhood friend spun him away from Iliastyr and towards her. For the first time in two years, Asher saw Kylie Novasca’s face.

Her brunette hair was braided in the same simple method that Asher used to braid it with, three strands overlapping one another. She had a scar from a slash wound just above her right eye, creating separation in her eyebrow. For the first time in two years, Asher met the gaze of the beautiful, confident, forest-green eyes that had always been by his side.

“Hey, Ash. Long time no see,” Kylie echoed. “You’ve grown.”

“So have you, Kylie. In more ways than height,” Iliastyr cut in with a smirk, watching Kylie’s smile turn to a self-conscious frown. “Oh, in terms of talent. Talent! Don’t hit me!” Iliastyr amended his sentence, calming Kylie’s ensuing red face and death glare.

A green arrow, green violin, blue slipper, and orange blade were pinned to Kylie's leather armor. She wasn’t only an advanced archer, musician, and dancer; she’d been working on her skills with a blade.

“I see you’ve picked up some swordplay,” Asher said. "You just never stop improving, Kylie."

Kylie flashed a soft smile that exposed her prominent dimples, a feature she had always been embarrassed by. Because her cheeks were more pronounced than the rest of her face, other children said Kylie looked like a chipmunk when she smiled. Thus, when they were younger, she would only smile for Asher.

“I think I’m pretty good now,” Kylie said. “I’ve gotten better at music, too… Iliastyr and I are in a fairly successful band of warrior bards. You should watch us.”

Asher and Kylie’s reunion was quickly interrupted by repetitive light knocks. Jakob swung the door open as Safreya awkwardly fluttered in like a lost butterfly. “Hi,” she said with a cautious wave, “you must be Asher’s friends.”

With a long strut and a grin that resembled a failed attempt at flirtation, Varis introduced himself to Safreya. The embarrassed Kylie and Iliastyr immediately followed their archery junior, each taking their turn to meet Safreya.

“Varis Setric,”

“Kylie Novasca,”

“Iliastyr Dusk, pleased to meet you,” Iliastyr said, offering Safreya his hand. The moment she reached for it, a shock went through her. It was the same feeling Asher and Varis had felt, but Safreya’s magic sensitivity was far greater than theirs. The power of Iliastyr’s magic almost made her collapse.

What on earth is Iliastyr, an elder dragon? Asher wondered. Asher wanted to scold Safreya for venturing alone at night, especially during her first day in the capital. She still wasn't properly able to defend herself. He also wanted to scold her for interrupting his reunion with Kylie. However, Jakob took over the conversation before Asher had the chance.

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“Say, I see five young archers of different skill levels,” Jakob told the group. “That’s just how I like to split up my classes. How would you lot like to be one of my groups?” Asked Jakob.

Asher immediately forgave Safreya. In fact, he was ready to praise her for her perfect timing. “Of course!” Asher said. “Friends from Mazgrove, my roommate, and I get to show the Setrics what I can do? Sounds perfect to me.”

“I can’t wait to show you what a child of the main branch looks like, Cousin,” Varis said with a wild grin.

“Sounds like a fun group to me,” Kylie said. “I was going to ask for Iliastyr and Asher, anyway.”

“That would be amazing!” Safreya chimed in.

“Hmph, I suppose this lot would make for a fine supporting cast,” Iliastyr concluded. “In the meantime, Kylie, should we treat the Setric boys and Asher’s little friend to a concert?”

Jakob nodded in agreement. “Wonderful. I’ll see you bright and early at the Archer’s Guild.” His job complete, Jakob left his five archery pupils to sort the rest of their day out independently. After saluting goodbye to his mentor, Iliastyr led Kylie, Varis, and Asher to the room where Asher and Iliastyr would share the remainder of the year. Asher had spent every night sleeping in a beat-up sack of feathers supported by a creaky wooden frame. Nothing could have prepared him for the room the guild had prepared for Iliastyr.

Age had little to do with the guild system. Violet rankers taught guild members who were ranked blue and under. Thus, as a violet violin, Iliastyr was an instructor in the Strings Guild of the bard’s college. With that title came a variety of perks, including upgraded lodging. Asher examined every corner of the room, from the lavish mattresses to the closets full of fresh uniforms and formalwear.

“Close your mouth, Cousin. A fly might nest itself there,” Varis said with a snicker, “is a dorm like this such a massive shock? A Setric from the main branch grows up with triple this level of luxury.”

“Yes, well, thanks to our great grandfather, I’ve never experienced that luxury,” Asher replied, his friendly smile accompanied by a biting tone. “Which reminds me, your father-”

“-Is Berin Setric, the diamond blade,” Varis confirmed Asher’s suspicions, “but we could talk about our family all day; let’s hear Iliastyr and Kylie’s composition.”

Iliastyr’s room featured elegant metal stands that held up nearly an entire orchestra of stringed instruments. He retrieved a violin and guitar from the collection and handed the guitar to Kylie. “This song was written by Kylie on your seventeenth birthday, with the hope that you would someday make it to the capital,” Iliastyr explained. “It’s called Star and Nova. Not the most original title, but she tried her best.”

The surname Setric went as far back as ancient Solluna. It meant star in the original language that inspired Sollunan. Meanwhile, Kylie’s surname was Novasca. The song may as well have been called Asher and Kylie.

The song began with a gentle plucking of guitar strings. The tune was elegant and beautiful. However, it was simple and repetitive- until Iliastyr’s violin was incorporated. The sudden change in tempo and dynamic felt as if the violin was forcing the guitar to evolve, causing both parts to change in rhythm and complexity. Musically, the two occasionally felt like they were clashing in dissonance until their competition brought them back into harmony.

The song transported Asher back to his and Kylie’s youth. The first time she ever held a bow and arrow, him learning how to braid her hair, their first hunt together, the time she taught him to dance, when he taught her how to wield a sword for the first time, all the memories came surging back to him.

After a climactic clashing of strings, the violin faded into the background with a melancholy decrescendo. Inspired by the change that the violin’s dissonance had forced upon it, the guitar continued to play alone in a beautiful and complex melody.

“I’m bad with words, but this song is how I think of us,” Kylie said with an embarrassed grin. “Nobody else can push us the way the other does. I’ll become the diamond arrow, and you’ll become the diamond blade. And we’ll do it together.”

The violin suddenly rejoined the song. This time, Iliastyr showcased his true abilities as a Violet Violin. The way his fingers danced along the neck of the instrument was mesmerizing, only surpassed by the sound he produced. “I say this with no sarcasm or ulterior motive, which is rare for me, so pay attention,” Iliastyr commanded, “Kylie and I believe in you. I play this violin at a level I believe you can obtain with your blade, Asher. Don't disappoint us."

Kylie and Iliastyr concluded their song to the applause of Varis, Safreya, and Asher. Two Setrics being treated to a private concert by a Violet Violin, Asher thought, examining the noble training in his younger cousin, from his posture to the unbothered smile that adorned his face. Typically, this would be a common sight in the capital. If I was the right type of Setric, that is.

“So… what did you think?” Kylie asked, “I composed it myself, so…”

“A beautiful sound and a beautiful story,” Asher replied, “you’re amazing, Kylie.”

Kylie tucked her hair behind her ear. The gesture was simple, but what they revealed profoundly affected Asher: a pair of golden earrings. When she’d left Mazgrove two years ago, Kylie had no interest in jewelry. Now that I think of it, she still looked like a teenager when she left Mazgrove, Asher thought. Now… Kylie’s a woman. A beautiful one, too.

The young Varis rose from his chair with a tired yawn. “Well, beautiful work, but we have an early day tomorrow. I’ll be seeing you, Sir Iliastyr.”

“Get a good rest, Varis. Sir Jakob will be putting up through the wringer tomorrow,” Iliastyr replied, readying his violin bow as if it were an archer’s bow.

In Solluna, a kingdom where merit is king, those who were Violet rank or higher in a guild were called Sir or Madame. Age and the status of one’s family were irrelevant in the face of rank. However, most high-ranking individuals were from wealthy or noble families regardless. The inequality was especially severe in the scholar and bard colleges, where having access to tutors at a young age was so important.

The selection had been praised and criticized because of the opportunity differences across the kingdom. On the one hand, it gave all civilians the opportunity for wealth and status if they stood out in their territory. On the other hand, it created a heavy brain drain from outside territories to the capital, ensuring the kingdom’s elite were centralized.

“Say, Iliastyr, what’s your story? Were you selected?” Asher asked his new bunkmate. Kylie winced at the statement, but Asher had no way of knowing that he’d said anything wrong.

“I don’t know my story,” Iliastyr said. “A few years ago, I woke up at the doorstep of a capital orphanage with amnesia. All this,” Iliastyr pointed to his eight guild badges, “happened after.”

Just few years ago? Asher thought. Some people go their entire lives without getting a single violet badge or put in decades of effort to get one. Iliastyr got four green badges, three blue badges, and a violet badge in just a few years?!

Safreya viscerally leaned forward upon hearing Iliastyr’s story. Asher stepped back, leaving room for Safreya to approach Iliastyr. “Do you remember anything about your life before the amnesia?” She asked with a hint of desperation in her voice.

Iliastyr shook his head. “Although, strangely, something about you seems familiar.”

Safreya’s let out a scattered exhale that turned into a breathy whimper. Then, as if dismissing some ludicrous idea, Safreya closed her eyes and smacked her cheeks. “Um, I’m an orphan, too. I think we might have met somewhere, you know, before the amnesia…”

Iliastyr looked at Safreya intently as if she were an odd score he was struggling to master. Neither could define the connection they felt, but it was tangible to everyone in the room. Iliastyr and Safreya had met before; there was no doubt about it.

“My life is quite the interesting tale, and all the greatest tales have a wonderful supporting cast,” Iliastyr mused. “What do you say? Would you all like to be supporting characters in my glorious story?”

Asher couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the request. “Is this how an egotistical prodigy asks for friends?” He asked. Iliastyr’s lips curled into a smirk, unwilling to voice such a request.

Iliastyr picked up his violin, underscoring the rest of the night as Asher and Kylie exchanged tales of their two years apart. Safreya listened intently, giggling and adding her accounts every so often. Kylie was a grown woman now, but she was still the same old Kylie. Asher was sure of that. Once the midnight oil had been sufficiently burned, it was time for Kylie and Safreya to return to their dorms.

“I’ll walk the youngster home,” Kylie said, “the capital can be dangerous for a young scholar at this hour.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Safreya said, “but, um, I’m sixteen.”

Kylie blinked several times, assuming that something was wrong with her vision. “Sixteen. That's impossible; you’re hardly a meter and a half tall. And that youthful face…”

“I’m a late bloomer,” said the embarrassed Safreya, “it’s, um, in my blood, I guess.”

A bewildered Kylie led Safreya out of the dorm. Asher trusted her to get the strange girl back home in time for a long night’s rest. She’d need it. Come to think of it, Iliastyr is also quite small, isn’t he? Asher thought. It must be an orphan thing. Didn’t get proper nourishment. No, that’s a horrible thing to think.

“We’ve got an interesting little cast for tomorrow’s adventure,” Iliastyr said, changing into his night clothes. “Good night, Asher. I hope you prove to be an interesting part of my story."

“Good night, Iliastyr,” Asher said, humoring the oddball prodigy. “I hope so, too.”

Iliastyr quickly found himself drifting off to sleep, but Asher found himself tossing and turning all night. Being in Kylie and Iliastyr’s archery group was exciting, but he didn’t want to disappoint them. He knew that Jakob wouldn't take it easy on the new blood. However, Asher’s blade classes were even more anxiety-inducing. Meeting the young Varis was a small thing compared to the task ahead. Asher would finally see the older Setrics tomorrow. Perfection, Asher thought. For Iliastyr, for Kylie, to prove my family wrong. My only task for tomorrow is complete perfection.