Cybille sat in the kitchens, sipping a mug of tea, a small break from work. The door from the back walk was suddenly flung open, and one of the cook’s boys came in, soaked to the bone. Cybille raised her eyebrows. It was a sunny afternoon last time she checked, and the sprinklers weren’t on outside at this time of day, unless… She smiled into her tea as the cook came and began to dry her son off. The boy was complaining about “annoying brats” and “hooligans” and Cybille laughed under her breath. A sudden rain shower on a clear day sounded just like Teren, Hugo, and Jason.

Removed for magazine entry... I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!
-Damaris Ann

They found Chance in the stables.
But before they did, he just waited. He could hear the crowds and personnel drop into desperate clamor, and he knew that his team was successful. He found himself useless at this point in missions, given he discouraged himself from fighting. He knew he could, but experiences were burned in the back of his mind. They held him back. Even sparring in between missions proved difficult to do. He wished he could harden up, but memories kept him soft - broken. There was no time to let his heart cool before another memory burned it in despair.

The next day was like a remake of the rehearsal, with ten times the pomp of before. Thousands of the people of the kingdom crammed themselves in the squares and streets. Carriages and parades whizzed by, not that the four men were paying attention. The two Údaens had to hide themselves under leather jerkins and hoods to shadow their dark faces; an ongoing war tore the two nations apart, and to see the face of a strange Údaen on a special occasion would rouse the crowds with suspicion and contempt.
This time, their suspicion would have been understandable.

it was so much easier
to fall in love
when I was younger
I could see a set of
blue eyes and a
nice jawline in the street and
imagine our future together

how it would start with
his hands on my waist
rocking from
side to side, and then
he would push my hair back and
we would go on adventures and
all we would need is each other

Caislín had indignantly clasped his cloak around his shoulders and sighed. Her chilled fingers clutched the eagle’s wing that connected the golden braided loop on the other edge of his cloak. He may have sensed her hesitation to let him out of her sight, and enveloped her small hands in his weathered ones. He wasn't that much older than her, but his callused hands were those of a man of old age. They were gloved in soft black leather and were warm. She leaned her forehead into his chest and swallowed down her tears.

Cheri knocked on Jonathan's closed door.

“Come in.”

She walked in and eased herself slowly onto the side of Jonathan's twin bed.

“Hey Mom.”

“Hey Kid.”

She poked his nose and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle off of his pillowcase.

“I wish we didn't have to leave you all alone while you're sick.”

Jonathan blinked back his disappointment.

“I know. Just give Gramps and Nanna a hug for me and tell Uncle Thom I said happy birthday.”

“Will do. We'll try not to stay for more than two or three hours. Call me if you need anything, 'kay?

Let me show you my garden, so you may understand why I love it as much as I do.
Here, on this ornate bench beneath the cascade of Rose vines, my heart first opened up to love. The hand that turned back the petals and revealed the heart was the hand that put this ring on my finger.
Here, under the boughs of these cherry blossoms, I learnt that this Love must die a young death.
'Twas walking between the rows of gardenias here that my broken heart was healed.

Again I'm confus'd, bewilder'd and torn;
I feel like a Sampson shaven and shorn.
Betrayed by my fears and wond'ring "What next?"
I'm taken, again, right back to this text;
"...My peace give I unto you," Jesus said,
"...Not as this world gives," His men Spirit-led.
They were radical and strange yet trusting,
Whereas I'm radic'lly strange, and doubting.
"...Faith like a mustard seed..." can move mountains;
Yet my shoulders carry the mountainous plains.
"My yoke is easy and my burden light,"

Have you ever looked at someone and suddenly realized what a treasure they are? And then you discover how much you love that treasure. Not because it's appearance is as garish as a jewel, but their personality shines as pure as gold. You love them the more you see them, yet deep inside you realize it is a treasure you will never hold as your own. But you can't stop hoping that someday, someone will have that priceless treasure to you, and tell you that it's yours forever.