Vaya lay with her feet up on the wall and her back against the cold stone tile. She was back in the room she had first been placed in when they’d captured her at the Crag. Ser Sledda had found her. Rohinar had protected her. He had fallen for her—or so she had thought. But upon his commitment to the Valnarak daughter, Elswitta, she had been forgotten by nearly everybody. The only one who mattered to Vaya Mora was the prince. She had sold herself, thinking her eyes and her long brown hair had worked on him. He had given every indication that it had.

Vaya spent long days laying and thinking—for that is all there was to do. Why had she come here? She could not remember why. She only remembered that the place she had come from was the awful entrapments of Lord Maykeep. She was one of his concubines and had been until she could take it no longer. She had escaped. At that was her plan again. To escape. But how? Darvos the guard was her only company. But even he was a simple man with few words to share and a dumb look that offered no sign of comprehension at anything she said. He would stand in front of her door, guarding the way for anyone to try and rescue her. But no one ever would, so she wondered why it was so important that Darvos be at his post all the time. Occasionally, someone different would come and take his place. Those guards were ruder. They either ignored her every word or threatened to come into her chambers and take her innocence from her. That had made her quiet. But she could always tell when it was Darvos standing outside the door because of his large feet and his tall shadow.

She truly did rack her brain to try and remember why she had been drawn to Dalrin. And then she remembered her silver blood. The Silver Tree…it was a fate she had run from all her life. And yet, somehow, she had ended up here. No one else knew she had silver blood though. She knew the moment the Aetos family learned of it they would use her like a weapon. They would discover the tree’s power, and her power. She would not accept that, not if she could help it. But Darvos had been telling her of the food shortages and poisoned crops. The weather had turned quite ugly, more so than any Bolg Moon before. Vaya felt like she knew why but had remained quiet on it.

All had seemed hopeless on remembering her past, until one night.

Her dreams took her to a new place. It was dark but the moon lit the air with a faint yellow glow. She could only move slowly, and her feet felt like they were hovering as she wandered the castle grounds. She knew where she was going. The Silver Tree beckoned. It had a way of bonding with her. She had felt that when she took part in the winter ceremony when The Oracle was still here.

The night air felt cool on her skin. She was in an oversized the night gown made of fresh linen. She was past the guards and the gates when she arrived at the base of the Silver Tree. The ends of her hair were beginning to stick straight up like static electricity had rubbed against it. The treet’s roots glowed blue and continued expanding and expanding. Vaya turned her head, watching the roots spread faster and faster over the surface of the ground. It rose and twisted and turned—rising over grass, rock, and boulder. She suddenly had a bird’s eye view and was flying like a crow until her eyes scanned all of Dalrin. But the tree’s roots eventually stopped at the border where Venistar’s land started. Then she started falling. She screamed.

Despite hoping to wake up before she slammed into the ground, she hit with a jolt. Her body hurt. Ached. But nothing was broken, and she soon forgot the pain. It was still nighttime, and the air was still a hazy blue color that made the night feel more relaxing than scary. Her vision blacked. Vaya woke up, seeing herself laying in her bed as a child. It was a big room with her bed being big enough to fit four children. She was nine years old, and a maid was preparing her outfit for the day. Before long, her mother entered the room. Her mother was sick, Vaya could tell. The whites of her eyes were yellow and a purple coloration gave away her sickliness. Despite the purple taint of her skin, Vaya could tell she was beautiful. She had the same big brown eyes and dark flowing hair. Her mom smiled at her, leaning down and squeezing her cheeks.

“Good morning, Vaya. Father is waiting down by the stables. He wants to show you the countryside this morning while the grass is still wet with dew and the sun is still yet to rise. You’ll get to see a Venistar sunrise from horseback.” Little Vaya’s mouth opened wide in a sweet smile.

“Can I ride the gray horsey?” asked Vaya with her big eyes.

“I’m sure your father won’t mind that,” smiled her mother. “Besides, you’ve got those big brown eyes to back you up. You know where those come from right?”

“You tell me all the time,” said Little Vaya, hands on her hips and doing her best impression of someone being exasperated. “Father has the blue eyes of a Valnarak and you have the eyes of a black bean from being born to Dalrinian parents.” Little Vaya’s pronunciation of the two places was impressive for being as young as she was.

The hovering Vaya from the dream caught herself smiling wide. But then her smile faded as her memory began to slowly return. If she remembered correctly…

“I’m scared,” said Little Vaya. “Last time father took me I almost fell of the horse. I don’t like it when he makes me ride on my own pony.” Little Vaya’s eyes brought her mother down to her knees.

“Would it help if I rode with you?” asked her mother.

“Could you please,” said Vaya, curling her lower lip and giving her biggest eyes possible.

Her mother just smiled, grabbing Little Vaya’s hand and leaving the bedchambers. Vaya knew how that ride ended. It was their last morning together. She had carried that guilt with her until she thought she could not bear it. Eventually, her entire childhood had evaporated from memory. She still could not remember the details of her mother’s death, but she knew enough from the dream to know that this morning would be their last together. She could also picture her father’s face—the face of a king. The King of Venistar, the most beloved and popular ruler since his own father’s great grandfather. King Tuuka.

Vaya would run away that day—never to return to that castle, that horse, or that place. And Tuuka had never sent men looking. Vaya knew she had been permanently seared in his mind as a scar that would never heal. So he had looked the other way when she fled the scene of her mother’s death. The memories flooded in.

The horse had gotten startled. Its hooves got caught in some overgrowth and the pony toppled over. Little Vaya was flung from the saddle by her mother, but Vaya’s mother herself did not escape before the horse’s full weight toppled onto her.

Vaya’s dream body was carried away by the wind. She was still in a daze from the painful and fatiguing recalling of traumatic memories past. Everything felt heavier now. Including her breathing, which came only in small gasps.

Before she awoke, the Silver Tree had one more memory for her. Vaya’s body carried her across fields, rivers, streams, and countryside. Over mountains, alongside eagles, and past jungles she went—a floating, weightless spirit that felt the cold wind rushing against it. Vaya’s breath was caught at the beauty of the land below. The anxiety of the traumatic memory was quickly washed away by the beauty of nature below her. Her feet were planted in the dried mud in the center of a remote village. The houses were small and square. A waist-high fence penned in the village and kept the livestock inside. Vaya gawked at the place. It was safe and cozy, away from all signs of danger and menace. Feeling the dirt beneath the soles of her feet, she walked around the village, noticing people going about their daily tasks. None of them saw her as she walked. Her eyes smiled at everything around her. It felt like a place she had been before but nothing stood out as entirely familiar.

But there was one man who saw her. He had shaggy gray hair and a frizzy black beard. He wore a red linen shirt and baggy white trousers. Dirt coated his clothes, and he carried a pail of water. He set it down once he saw Vaya.

“Vaya Mora, the silver-blood! How wonderful to see you here. You have arrived just at the perfect time.”

“How did you know I have silver blood? How can you see me?” asked Vaya. She was looking all around her, as if the voice she was talking to could be anywhere.

“You’re in a memory. And I live in people’s memories.” The man smiled warmly. He glanced up at the gentle blue sky.

“So…you’re not real, then?” asked Vaya.

“No, I’m real. I’m very real. But I don’t exist within the bounds of your realm. I go wherever I choose. And today, I’ve been asked to visit you.” The man smiled so wide that Vaya thought he might be laughing.

“Why are you visiting me? Isn’t this a dream?”

“It’s a dream, sure, but the words you are hearing out of my mouth are as real as it gets. I came to show you a memory that will have a lot of answers for you. Come, follow me.”

The man in red linen approached a small round hut and peaked his head in through the cloth doorway. “I’m Merri, by the way.”

“Nice to…met you.” Vaya hesitated to follow him inside, but he insisted. He gestured enthusiastically.

“This is where I leave you. Guess I’ve got a short duty today! The master lets me off early some days, I guess. Ha!” Merri gave a hearty snort and a laugh, but Vaya asked him to wait.

“Wait, can you tell me what I’m about to witness?” Vaya was staring at herself as a fourteen-year-old sitting straight-backed in a chair with a potions master and two older women at his side. He was taking a sample of her blood from her arm.

“You won’t remember this because they used memory charm on you,” Merri turned his head and pursed his lips. “Gosh I hate that stuff. It always makes my job more complicated.”

“Memory charm? Why would they do that?”

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“You had bled silver blood when you lived amongst the small village of Idyar—which is two miles inside Dalrin’s border with Venistar. The silver blood alarmed the village chief, who then had a potions master come see you. This was the day you started to run, live on the road. You knew something was different because they tested your blood. You fit the prophecy because you had the blood of the tree, but no one ever found you again once you ran. So, no one ever believed that poor potions master. They stoned him for thinking he was making false religious claims. This was in a time where reverence for the tree was a much more common thing, Vaya.”

“So, I just…ran? And no one ever found me?”

“Well…” began Merri. “No one found you. But you found someone…Lord Maykeep, it was.”

“Ah, yes. I remember the time with him almost too well. That is where my memory begins.”

Merri nodded his head, suddenly seeming in a rush. “I best be going now. I’ve got one last dream to attend to and the lady is stirring from her sleep. Goodbye, and best of luck! The Silver Tree sent me with to you with highest priority, so I know you’ll use this information well.”

And with that, Merri was gone. Vaya did not even see him run. She craned her neck out of the circular hut, and her body was taken by the wind again. It took her along the northern reach, through one of the eight paths of the Crag and up past the front gate to Crow Castle. Being plopped back into her bed, she jumped. It was morning. Light sunlight crept through the curtains of her bed.

She sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes. Whether Merri was real or not, she had no clue. But the memories were real, and she knew it. The fate of her life came calling back to her. The weight of the realm sat on her, suffocating her. But she was locked here in this tower, with no one who knew of her importance or her mission that she was called to. However, a slight peace existed within her because she had broken the duct. She could remember her past and why she was being called her, to Dalrin. She was the silver-blood, the savior of the Silver Tree.

Her thoughts were interrupted. There was a knock at the door. A knock? No one ever visited her. She suddenly panicked. She didn’t remember how to socialize. Darvos had been her only conversation in the past months.

The door creaked open. Darvos held it for a lady. Vaya’s eyes widened. It was Aurela. Vaya could not explain how, but the sight of Aurela brought her comfort. Someone she could talk to, and possibly even talk about Rohinar. She still cared for him. Perhaps she cared for him too much because she still thought more of Rohinar than the Silver Tree. But she would not tell Aurela of any of it. She would not tell anyone. She trusted no one in the keep.

Despite the veil that Vaya had intended to keep up, she couldn’t help but spill other things about herself. Aurela had appeared at just the right time. Void of any human contact besides Darvos, who was like talking to a wall, Vaya was desperate for someone to share her thoughts with—even if it was with a member of the family who was holding her here in this tower. The two ladies talked and talked. Aurela updated Vaya on her father’s recent state, keeping to himself in the stacks and reading nearly everything he could find on the Silver Tree. Although a noble pursuit, he was neglecting his duties. Her mother, the queen, had busied herself picking up the pieces with Illena. Pret and Lun were rarely home. Often wandering the northern reach by themselves, mother and father had not the time nor patience to look after them constantly. Aurela refused to be in charge of the troublesome brothers. Since the betrothal things had changed for her as well. And as the younger daughter of royalty, she felt forgotten. Neglected. But she had remembered that there was someone else who was alone as well. Vaya Mora the Unknown, as some called her in Castle Crow.

Vaya listened intently, waiting for any mention of the prince. She didn’t want to ask and seem curious, but she was desperate to learn of how things were faring for him at Baronview with the Valnarak princess. Elswitta would was beautiful, Vaya remembered. But she also remembered with great spite how she had charmed Rohinar with her poisonous eyes. Vaya could see the treachery in them. Her thoughts wandered and shifted to her recent vision she had. Or was it a dream…was there a difference? She wondered if she could truly be a Valnarak.

Aurela had paused, seeing Vaya’s lost look. “Is everything alright, Vaya? I don’t mean to overwhelm you by coming here.”

“No, yeah…everything is fine,” said Vaya. “I just…was thinking about something.” She paused often between words. Why were her thoughts so interesting now? Now that she had someone in front of her to listen to her. Someone whose thoughts she could listen to that weren’t her own.

Vaya shuddered. An image of the Silver Tree flashed through her head. The sky was dark and stormy. The leaves had all died and the tree seemed to screech for help. The image came and went painfully. Vaya brought a hand to her forehead, grimacing.

“Vaya?” Aurela leaned in towards Vaya. She brought a hand to Vaya’s arm sympathetically.

“I’m okay,” replied Vaya. “Just a headache.”

“Darvos,” shouted Aurela. The guard peaked his head in. “Bring some water and a pitcher of wine for both of us.” Darvos grunted, moving from the door. “And bring two cups, don’t forget.”

Vaya felt better knowing wine was on the way. The water brought to her during her stay in the tower was always warm and stale. It certainly hadn’t been from the Sea of Glass, which is where the freshest water had been from. Wine would be a nice change for her pallet.

“So, tell me,” said Aurela, “What is it that actually brought you here, if you’re not a spy or a scout?” Aurela’s brows were furrowed, her lip curled. Her eyes darted around the room, noticing the lack of décor or color. The room was depressing.

“What brought me here was, well, it was something that I did not know. I just felt this odd draw to this place. I began to wander, not knowing where I would end up. I guess I just ended up in the northern reach, and then the Crag eventually. But I did not know that I would end up in Crow Castle so suddenly. It was Prince Rohinar and Ser Sledda that found me.”

“Where were you previously?”

“I was a concubine. A slave to Lord Maykeep. He was a truly horrible lord. He was a slob and an abuser of his people—servants and constituents.” Vaya lifted her eyes from the bedside where she sat. “I escaped and headed north.”

Aurela’s eyes were full of empathy. “Headed north, why?”

“North because that is where my heart was telling me to go. I had been having visions. These images in my head that I could not ignore. They would come and go and then I would have dreams of this place. It was a place with a large tree that had silver bark and orange leaves. My heart led me here to find that tree.”

Aurela’s face turned into a smile, disbelieving at first. But she could tell Vaya was not lying, and her smile quickly faded. “The tree? You mean you were seeing visions of the tree? Are you religious?”

Vaya chuckled. “No, I would not consider myself religious. But I do feel a draw to the Silver Tree. During the Winter Ceremony, I felt a connection to it. It was as if the sap of the tree coursed through my veins. It was like I was made of the same blood as the tree.” Vaya looked to Aurela, studying her face. Does she know I am not speaking figuratively?

“I see,” said Aurela. “Well, you got here!” The two laughed lightly. “And I know my brother had some sort of connection with you as well.” Aurela’s demeanor had grown serious suddenly.

“We did…it was strong too. Not as strong as the tree, but I felt bonded to him before I even knew him. When he found me in the Crag, there was this spark between us. I cannot describe it.”

“You like my brother? Rohinar?” Aurela had gotten stiff as a board, Vaya noticed. Just then, Darvos arrived with a platter that had two pitchers on it. One held wine, the other held water. Two cups sat stacked on the platter.

“You can leave that on the dresser, Darvos. Thank you.” Aurela got up from the bed and poured Vaya and herself a glass of wine. “You were saying, about my brother?”

“What?”

“Do you like him?”

“I do like him. I wanted him to choose me at the betrothal.”

Aurela had stopped pouring. Her arm slowly lowered the pitcher of wine. “You what?”

“I wanted to be betrothed to him, even though we do not know each other, I know. It is odd. But he felt it too. He liked me. He never stopped looking into my eyes from the moment he saw me.”

Vaya held her breath. Aurela’s attention returned to the wine which she continued to pour without a word.

“Do you consider that a secret, Vaya?” Aurela passed the glass of wine to Vaya.

“I do.”

“Then I guess I ought to share my secret then.” Aurela seated herself beside Vaya again, taking a large gulp of wine and pushing herself back on the bed so that her feet didn’t touch the floor. She had on a long deep blue dress that ran down to her ankles. It was loose around the neck and the sleeves were baggy.

Aurela continued, “I’ve had a secret relationship for a while with a man here. He is no longer here. But I miss him all the time. I haven’t felt the same since he left. I know it was not a healthy relationship, for he did bad deeds that I had to forget about all the time. Sometimes he would make me forget with certain…things. Substances, tools, that sort of thing. But he is handsome, and he treats me like I’m the queen. And I’m not the queen. I’m far from it. My mother never fails to help me be reminded of that. But when I’m with him…I am the queen of Dalrin. I am the most important woman in the realm.” Aurela was smiling and tears glittered in her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling. Vaya smiled warmly, placing a hand on Aurela’s hand.

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Vaya. “I mean, I’m grateful and all. But you didn’t have to share a secret with me. I only told you because I would have burst otherwise.”

Aurela and Vaya locked eyes. At once, Aurela could see why Rohinar would have trouble removing his eyes from those big brown eyes. But she also saw the same eyes that she saw in Elswitta. And it made her think in that brief moment how it odd it was that Elswitta’s same brown eyes were what had swayed Rohinar in that very moment. But they couldn’t be related. It was impossible. Aurela felt guilty for having that very thought in such a tender moment.

“I tell you this because...” she trailed off, thinking. Pondering. Should she ask? Vaya was technically a prisoner. Locked away in the cell tower just like all of the other woman that Rohinar had seduced and discarded. Vaya was just another of his victims. But on second thought, Aurela knew there was something different here. Vaya had a connection to the Silver Tree. Although religion was dying in House Aetos, she knew it could be serious. “I tell you because we have something in common. The one we want is not here, but in Baronview. The capital. And I mean to travel there to be with him. I don’t care the cost. But I cannot leave this castle without escaping secretly or else the guards will see it and report it to my mother. Ser Sledda will ride me down and bring me back before I ever make it.”

Vaya swallowed harshly. Her mouth was dry despite the wine in her hand. Escape. She had not even considered that to be a possibility, let alone escaping with a member of the Aetos royal family. If they were caught, at least she was in the company of someone who could not be tried or blamed.

“Wait, who is the one you wish to be with?” asked Vaya, suddenly curious and realizing she had never even bothered to ask.

“Ser Jaqon. He was commander of the hunters. He ran the dungeons before Ser Sledda, the Crow’s Quarters. You know?”

“Ah, yes,” replied Vaya. “Have they done away with all of that since Ser Jaqon left and Varisy died?”

“I believe so. Which also means the Crag is less patrolled than it used to be. There will be less guards standing upon the ridges and boulders outside of Crow Castle. I think If we make our escape in the night…tonight…now.”

“Now?” Vaya shouted, stunned. Aurela put a hand over Vaya’s mouth and shushed her.

“Quiet! Darvos stands just outside the door. Yes, if we are to leave then we ought to do it now.”

“You’re sure of this? Ser Jaqon and Rohinar are both at Baronview right now?”

“I think so,” said Aurela. She wasn’t convincing. Vaya could hardly swallow from her dry mouth. She took a deep long swig from her cup, getting up to refill her cup from the pitcher. The effects hit her heavily since she had barely eaten anything. They hardly fed her in her tower.

After taking another deep swig of wine, Vaya turned to face Aurela. She was awaiting a response.

“So?” said Aurela. “Are you in?”

Vaya stood straight as a board. Aurela waited, face twisted in anticipation.

“I’m in.”