Chapter+1


 * __Ten Years Later__**

The sun was high over the city by the time Airea had risen, but she was still the first one to arrive at the carriages with all her luggage spread out around her. She refused to have it put on first, as it would be the last lot of and that would mean Airea would be required to wait until last as she couldn’t very well waltz off in to her rooms without it.

Standing in the cool breeze whilst waiting for her luggage to be unloaded might not have been such a bad thing if it wasn’t for the setting and the company which usually accompanied the cool breeze.

Whichever of the Prendars that had been assigned to meet them would have to stay and welcome them and generally, Airea saw talking to them as a bad thing. It wasn’t that King Rior Prendar was an unkind or impolite man; it was simply that tensions had been too high between the two countries for too long for there to be automatic peace and friendship between the two countries, never mind the ruling families.

This was especially true of the children of the kings. Airea and Vilem, Rior's eldest son, had always had a cold and unaffected relationship. Each felt the weight of their countries deep routed dislike contrasted with the much anticipated peace treaty and the expectations of both the people and their fathers who had spent years working out a peace treaty. All this pressure meant that favour, or obvious lack of, would make at least one party unhappy.

The same could be said for their relationship with each other’s siblings; careful and disinterested. This cold, formal relationship was the reason that Airea saw talking to them as a bad thing. The others had yet to learn her tricks, so they always got stuck with being polite whilst Airea got away with having a dramatic entrance and then being able to rush off to her rooms to change into warmer clothes.

Narlo was always cold. They claimed it was summer, but Airea remembered Regar’s summers, hot and dry, not at all like the damp misty days that they passed in Narlo. When she was little, Airea had not had to go to Narlo each summer for part of her childhood because the treaty had yet to be secured between the two countries for the first half, and then the other half because she was deemed too young to be able to handle representing her country until the age of thirteen.

It had been different for Carion, as he was forced to go with them at twelve years old, the littlest crown prince every seen. Mariana followed when she was twelve and Carion was fourteen and Gregor when Carion was fifteen. Adan was still only nine years old, so technically too young to come with them, but as he was the only child who would be left at home, he had been brought along anyway. There would be six Children of Regar there however, as their mother was quite a few months pregnant and was due the month they arrived home.

Despite so many of them going, it was almost midday before any one of them other than Airea managed to get outside. It was another hour before all the luggage was loaded – Airea had an intense argument with Carion about who’s got to be put on last – and then another half an hour before they started moving.

Even when they were about to leave, with the bags packed and nothing else to be done, Airea couldn’t help but sigh before climbing up in to the carriage and think about how much she didn’t actually want to be there.

Her mother saw her sigh and reached out to pat her on the shoulder.

“I know Ri, but you have to.” She said smiling.

Airea just shook her head and climbed into the carriage.

The journey was slow, and generally uneventful. A good atmosphere was only kept by the chatter in the children’s carriage, mainly streaming from Gregor and Carion, with Mariana reprimanding them every now and then. It started to dwindle by the third day, but there was no moment of complete silence until they pulled up to the great city of Narlo.

The grand gates opened to admit them to the crowded city and they all leant towards a window to peer out.

Because of the way the city was built, the only way to the castle was to go around through the spiralling streets, up to the mountain’s peak which was encased by the pale grey castle and its many turrets and courtyards.

--

Ali didn’t mind when they came for the summer. Over the past fourteen years he had learnt a few tricks on how to hide from them. Normally, he just went to visit his grandfather, spending the days playing chess, talking about politics or reading to him. If his grandfather was unavailable, he would find the most secluded garden or courtyard and take a book from the library so he could spend a good few hours n his own. He had gotten to know the kitchen staff quite well when he had been small – always dashing in and out, playing games and beggin food - so he could always manage to snaffle some bread and cheese to keep his stomach from complaining during the day.

Now however, Ali had nowhere to go. His grandfather had died in the winter, waiting for the mid-winter festival lights to fade before breathing his last breath and sighing to sleep.

The castle seemed bigger and colder when he had nowhere to go and he found himself following a corridor which went all the way around the castle, staring out the window as he went.

He would have been almost completely alone this summer if the Rals hadn’t come as usual. Their presence caused functions which he would have to attend which took up most of his time. He suddenly envied his younger brothers, Anan, Filip and Cánad, as they were away travelling for the summer and didn’t have to be part of the welcoming committee for the ‘rival family’. The title hadn’t initially been resentful, but it had become so after a good ten years of mind numbingly dull functions and events caused by them.

Initially, both sides had tried to like each other, but as Vilem and Airea found it hard to get on, the others took their lead from them. Ali didn’t mind. They never seemed to be that interesting; they were always quite serious and calm, with a different sense of humour, never quite fully understanding his jokes. It wasn’t even as if their habits were different enough to be interesting.

When he was little, he had heard that people from Regar ate only with their right hand, never wore the colour blue and kept both their mother’s and father’s names. None of these traits seemed to be applicable to the royal family of Regar however, they ate normally at dinner, the first time they met Airea was dressed in blue and they were all introduced with just a first and last name. This was a major disappointment to Ali. He’d expected interesting people who he could ask all about their strange culture. As they appeared normal, he felt inappropriate asking about the strange things, just in case he had heard wrong and they were insulted or found him ignorant.

The day was getting slowly warmer and Ali found his scarf suffocating as he stood at one of the open doorways to the terrace outside. There was still a slight wind, but not enough to cool him down.

“Goodness, it’s freezing. I know it’s always cold here, but this is colder than winter!” Ali heard a quite voice behind him, feminine and soft. He turned and saw Airea and Mariana walking together. He nodded at them as they noticed him. Airea inclined her head slightly and Mariana smiled.

“You know it’s actually not that cold.” He said, moving to turn and lean on the ledge of a window, his elbows resting on the stone.

“Sorry?” Airea raised her eyebrows incredulously. The only times they had ever addressed each other had been during balls when it had been neccesary whilst dancing together, and then only pleasentries.

“It’s not actually as cold as you said.” Ali replied making no qualms about overhearing their conversation.

“I heard what you said, I just didn’t believe you.” She replied, pulling a shawl tighter around her. Ali laughed. “What’s it like in Regar then, if this is cold?” he asked, folding his arms.

“Warm. This would be the depths of winter. Summer is hot. Not, warm as it’s been claimed to be here, but actually hot; hot enough to fry an egg on the terrace.”

“Well then you must be brave to last in such heat, and careful to, so as not to spill any eggs and ruin your breakfast.” Airea chuckled and Mariana looked a little confused. Well at least one of them had a decent sense of humour.

“Oh don’t worry; breakfast is only ever affected by the temperature if one of my brothers decides he is allowed to dispense with usual dress and finds an – ah – alternative solution, as he so often does.” She rolled her eyes and shared a look with Mariana.

“Sorry?” Ali grinned, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “What, does he wear bed clothes instead or something?”

“No. He wears nothing.” Ali’s eyebrows rose with the corners of his smile. “I won’t grace you with the details; someone should still be allowed to sleep in peace.”

“Or eat without illness.” Mariana added.

“Very kind of you. I shall treasure the favour.” He bowed his head slightly, mockingly, but smiled at the same time.

Airea smiled back at him. Not the usual perfectly calculated smile that shows just the right amount of good humour to not cause offense nor encourage further communication, but a real smile her sweet lips stretching, making her face look light and happy for a brief moment before she looked down and then up again as the lunch bell rang.

“Lunch then I think.” She said quietly, her calculated smile replacing the one of genuine good humour.

“Yes. And with it not being breakfast and not being very hot, I think we might be safe from less than fully dressed princes.” Ali replied, trying to get a smile from her again. He succeeded in getting a little one. She nodded shyly and turned, putting her arm through Mariana’s, and walked off towards the informal dining hall.

Ali gave them a few moments head start before sauntering after them, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

--

The next day, Ali was wondering again, this time with a purpose. He was walking to the library using the outside passage he had spoken to Airea and Mariana in the day before.

He had heard Airea express a wish to read earlier in the day and was curious about her.

She had always seemed so serene and sincere, and yet had understand him when he joked the day before, unlike most people who didn’t understand that he was joking, yet alone find him funny. His misconception of her was shattering and he rather liked it.

The wind had picked up this morning and his hair was blowing all over his face as he walked. He didn’t really mind as he generally didn’t let things bother him, but he had spent an extra few minutes combing it this morning, so it was understandable that a mild irritation swept through him.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked through the modest doors which hid Narlo’s most magnificent library. It wasn’t a secret library or hidden away for reasons of security, it was just that when the library was originally built, the king had wanted it to be a peaceful sanctuary, not a spectacle for tourists, although anyone was allowed to use it.

Ali wandered in, smiled and nodded respectfully at the head librarian, sitting at his desk, and strolled through the lines of books, gazing around as he did so at the books, the knowledge that had been amassed over the years, feeling, as he always did, somewhat in awe, and faintly inadequate.

He walked slowly through the aisles, apparently looking for nothing in particular, but actually looking for a certain dark haired stranger with whom he seemed to share a sense of humour.

He found her in the language section, looking at an old book on Narline, the native language of Narlo. He found this odd; nobody used the language anymore except for ceremonies, like marriage, or the ordination of priests.

Ali himself had had to suffer learning it himself, until his tutor believed him fluent at the age of 14 when he had demanded he not be taught anymore. It was one of the few things Ali had ever demanded.

She stood there with the book for a few minutes, reading, and Ali stood there, watching her reading. He wondered why she didn’t just take it to a table to read. Her hair fell over her face slightly as she stood with her head leant towards the book slightly, covering her ear and casting a gentle shadow over the face. Her hands, long fingered and delicate, suddenly grasped the book tightly and shut it with a muffled snapping sound before pulling it to her chest and arranging her shawl so the book was hidden.

She then proceeded to walk out of the library, through the maze of aisles and out the door, smiling at the librarian as she passed.

Ali suppressed a laugh at her boldness and quickly ducked out of the library after her.

The librarian looked on after him, shaking his head.

“Young people.”

-

Ali followed Airea all the way around the castle, to the back of the great hall, where a courtyard stood. It was rarely used because of its awkward location, the doorway hidden behind a large tapestry, but it had the most beautiful views of the city and down the side of the mountain. Ali wondered how Airea had found it. It had taken him twelve years to even think about exploring the castle, and another four after that to discover almost all the secrets the castle held. It took him so long because no castle willingly gives up its secrets; they had to be sought out by the right kind of person, for the right kind of reasons.

Ali followed her behind the tapestry and through the door in to the garden, hoping that she would keep walking and not stop and listen, as the door opened straight in to the heart of the garden, with no greenery to hide it, only a fountain in the middle with hanging baskets around it. She did. She walked to the far end of the garden to the edge of one of the balconies and sat on a bench near the stone wall that sat around the edge.

She sat looking down at the city for a minute, facing away from Ali as he walked slowly in to the centre of the garden and sat on the edge of the pool, brushing a hanging plant out of his face, hooking the green leaves over one of the statues that sat gracefully in the fountain.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Airea asked quietly.

“No.” Ali answered, just as quietly.

Neither one moved, both acting as if this conversation was a regular occurrence to the both of them.

“It’s beautiful up here.” Airea’s voice was soft and full of awe. Ali was shocked by how different it sounded to her normal curt, sincere tone. She was always so stoic and calm, masking herself from others, that Ali couldn’t help but treasure this new tone, this new side of her.

He had always thought her beautiful, but he had also always thought her pretentious about it; aware of her affect on others, but now, well now, he was reconsidering his first impression.

Ten years after their first meeting, and he was only just seeing her properly.

“Yes.” Ali’s voice caught in his throat slightly. He coughed and looked down at his shoes, scuffing them against the edge of the pond.

“I don’t understand how anything gets done in this country. I would just sit here all day and watch if it was me.”

“Not many people know about this courtyard. I don’t think my father does. It’s hidden behind an uninteresting tapestry, so nobody goes very close to it, and no one seems to have explored this place for so long.” Ali babbled before he realised that he was indeed babbling, and then closed his mouth.

He wanted to tell her everything, but couldn’t phrase it so he didn’t sound uninterested.

“It’s well hidden. I only found it because I saw it as we drove in to the city a few years back. I’d noticed it before, but presumed it was one of the other courtyards. It was only a few years ago that saw it was different and I began to look for it.”

“How did you know it was different?” Ali asked, curious about her curiosity.

“The shape of the carvings on the outside is different on the wall, than the others and there are no flowers hanging over the edge. All the other courtyards have flowers hanging over, reaching towards the next floor.”

“That’s observant. I’ve lived here all my life and never noticed that. I only found this place when I was playing hide and seek with Anan and Filip. Cánad was too young to go running around the castle.” Ali stood, grinning at the memory. He walked towards the wall, hands stuck in to his pockets again.

“I won. They couldn’t find me at all, and gave up after twenty minutes. I spent the whole day here, just sitting and watching the people down there.” He indicated the ant sized people scattered around the streets.

Airea tilted her head towards him to listen, but without taking her eyes off the scenery. “How old were you?” Airea asked quietly.

“I think I was eight. I’d hidden a book down my shirt, just like you, in case I got bored, but I didn’t even open it.”

Airea smiled and picked up the book of the bench beside her where she had placed it carelessly, and hugged it tightly to her, resting her head on top of her hands.

“Did you normally sit still for long periods of time?” Airea asked, this time looking at him, noticing how crumpled his shirt had become in the short time he must have been wearing it for.

“No, actually. I was shocked at how long I had been up here. My brothers didn’t believe me either; that’s why they thought I had cheated.” Ali grinned again, and looked down at the top of the wall where his hands rested on the cool stone.

“Why are you asking so many questions anyway?” He asked suddenly, turning to look at her. She looked taken aback for a moment, unsure of how to look now he could actually see her. “I-I just wanted to know what you were like as a child.” She answered, too unsurely for it to be anything but the truth. “I don’t really remember much and, as we’ve spent such a large proportion of our lives in such close proximity, I find myself saddened by the lack of fond memories we share.” She finished, blushing at her frankness.

Ali was slightly unnerved by her honesty, the sweet, simple truth in her face. She looked younger and more naïve when she let her emotions show.

“Sorry.” She added, embarrassed. One of her hands found itself at her neck, twisting her necklace around its fingers in a nervous fashion.

Ali turned and looked at her, sitting in the wind and said to her; “It’s okay. I don’t mind you asking, it’s not as if it’s a secret, it’s just we’ve never really spoken to each other before. You normally talk to Vilem, not me.” He took a step towards her and sat on the bench, a good metre away.

“It isn’t that I normally speak only to him, it’s more that I never have anything to say to any of you that isn’t a formality, and for formalities, it makes logical sense to address them to Vilem.” Airea justified, “I hold no preference for any of you, and I doubt that would change even if I knew you better; you are all so alike.”

“Ha!” Ali barked a laugh and shook his head slightly, looking down at his knees. “We are entirely different people Airea, each of us is so different we sometimes marvel as to how we come to be related so closely.”

He looked up at her as he spoke and noticed a small smile drift itself on to her face when he said her name.

“I know how you feel. Mariana and I are so very different, but she’s always being compared to me and being told how similar we are. I wish people would see her as her own person, it’s just that she is so quiet and well mannered, she doesn’t like to contradict anyone.”

Ali noticed that Airea’s smile had turned maternal. She looked up and met his eyes, smiling. He looked down at her hands quickly, so she wouldn’t see him staring at her anymore. She pulled her necklace away from her and let it drop back, sighing.

“What’s that?” Ali asked, his interest caught. The necklace looked familiar somehow. “What?” Airea asked, following his gaze, her eyes falling on the necklace as well. “Oh, this.” She picked it up and pulled it over her head. “My grandmother gave it to me. Here,” She held it out to him.

He took it slowly; certain he had seen it somewhere before, in a painting or a drawing or something. He said as much to Airea.

“I’ve always had it, ever since I was nine years old. Perhaps that’s where you’ve seen it before.” She answered, keeping a close watch on him as he held it closer to his eyes.

“No.” He said slowly, think hard. It had something to do with his Grandfather, he was sure of it.

He twisted it so the gold detailing caught the light and suddenly realised; his Grandfather had given him a drawing of it just before he died.

-

His Grandfather had been sitting in his old easy chair, having already refused the doctors attempts to move him to the bed twice. He had called Ali in to his rooms to have an ‘important little chat’ as he’d called it. Ali knew he was dying; his Grandfather had told him so himself a few weeks ago, but he still didn’t want to believe it.

“Come here lad, I haven’t much time; the doctor said he would be back in a minute and he’s always far too punctual.” His gruff voice made Ali feel warm.

His Grandfather grasped a small wooden box on his little table and passed it to Ali.

“In there is a few things for you. You’re not to share them around, they are only for you.” Ali felt himself glow with pride: his grandfather had something especially for him, just for him. He felt important.

“They are nothing //that// important.” His Grandfather began, “But they have been in the family for hundreds of years and represent something important.” His voice had gone very quiet, and Ali had had to lean in close to hear his words. “What the contents of this box represents is something which was stolen from us.” He paused for dramatic effect, and then continued. “They are drawings or detailed accounts of items of magic.” He said the last word so quietly Ali could hear his tongue move to form it. Ali was silent; sure his Grandfather would give him more information and not just leave him with his curiosity unsated. He did. Ali didn’t even consider doubting his Grandfather; he had told some tall stories in his time, but always with a specific glint in his eye. Now, he looked seriously at Ali, wanting him to believe him. It occurred to Ali suddenly that Grandfather, too, was a second son. Always there, waiting in the wings

“There was a box, completely different to this one, which was given to the United Kingdom of Eurain hundreds of years ago. Eurain was split in two by the two advisors of the king, one representing the state of Narlo, one of Regar, when the king died with no heirs. He was the last of a very long line and no blood relative of his could be found. This left the two advisors in charge. They couldn’t proclaim themselves king as it would be unfair to the other and they had no desire to quarrel or split the Kingdom into separate countries. This troubled them for years, although they didn’t tell anyone besides their own families, who were not royalty, but simply merchants and business men.

Very suddenly one of the advisors became ill and died and soon after the other was assassinated. This left Eurain without leaders. As nobody had known of any of the troubles of the state except the families, it was necessary to chose new advisors and acting leaders to lead the regions from them.

In an attempt to regain the monarch, a male of the Prendar line was chosen along with a female from the Ral line. It was hoped that they would marry and produce an heir who could inherit both their responsibilities, and thus become king in all but name.

However, this did not go according to plan as Tal, the eldest son of the advisor for Narlo, and Mia, the niece of the advisor for Regar, disagreed on numerous issues, until one day, a box was given to them. No one but Tal and Mia know the details of what happened that day, but somehow, the gift of that box from an unknown source, gave them great powers.

But with great powers, comes greed and a member of their inner circle, Bamabotois became incredibly jealous after they confided in him of their gifts, and hatched a plan to steal the box off them. Being a rather egotistical man, he decided his plan could only be as big as possible, so he tried to start a war between Narlo and Regar. He succeeded in starting the war, but he didn’t manage to steal the box. Mia and Tal found out about his plans in time and diluted their effects as best they could, but not enough to stop the war. It lasted for four hundred years and only recently has a peace treaty been agreed between your father and the King of Regar.

The powers that Tal and Mia received were never revealed to the general public, so the real reason behind the war was never known by anyone except those with the gifts. Tal and Mia didn’t marry and never had a child, so neither was ever royalty, however, because the war split the countries, their separate children became rulers and eventually, royalty.

After the first few generations, it was decided that it was too much pressure for a ruler to govern a country and spend time honing and hiding their gifts, which is why I am telling you this and not Vilem. It is always the second son who gets the gifts, and only when the crown prince becomes king do the other siblings also learn about their gifts. Your father was an only child, so I knew that I would have to keep the gifts until he had a second son. The gifts are the reason I never claimed the thrown, and they are the reason I know that I will die very soon.” Ali didn’t even consider doubting his Grandfather; he had told some tall stories in his time, but always with a specific glint in his eye. Now, he looked seriously at Ali, wanting him to believe him. It occurred to Ali suddenly that Grandfather, too, was a second son. Always there, waiting in the wings for something which might never happen, just not in the way people always presumed. He had nothing to say in response. It was too much information to receive in one sitting and he felt as if his head would explode. His grandfather fell asleep in his chair shortly afterwards, but not before pressing the box onto Ali and making him promise not to open it until he had died.

A week later, Ali opened the box. A book with hand written entries and a piece of paper with a drawing of a necklace were all that was in there.

-

The necklace. Or rather, the necklace in the drawing. He held it close and twisted the chain around his fist tightly. Airea reached for it and he stood up, taking out of her reach. He flipped it over to look closer at the details on the back. He touched an embedded sapphire just as Airea reached for it. Their hands touched as they both grasped hold of the necklace and the sapphire sank into the necklace. Darkness fell around them, paralysing them.

The world had gone dark; Airea could only see Ali and the necklace. The garden, the city, the wind itself had disappeared. There was no noise, no smell, nothing. They were in a complete vacuum; just the two of them and the necklace hanging between them. It only lasted a moment, but it seemed to be the longest moment either of them had ever experienced.

And then it finished. They were restored to the garden, the wind once again pushing itself through their hair and lifting their clothes away from them.

The garden was no different, but the air smelt vaguely of pastries, and there wasn’t the constant thrumming noise of the city that usually permeated through the entire castle. Airea turned and looked out at the city, just to make sure she could still see it, but it was hardly there. The sprawling mass had been reduced to an average sized city, no bigger than a market town with travellers visiting; twenty streets wide with three streets worth further made up of tents and caravans.

Ali had turned the other way, towards the castle. It looked no different except for the two people who sat in the garden, on the other side of the pond and the statues. He took a step towards them, then stopped and looked back at Airea, still gazing out at the city. He touched her arm and she turned to gaze at him. “The city.” She said her voice quite and bewildered. “Pardon?” Ali asked, unaware of anything different other than the presence of two others in the garden. “It-it’s different. Smaller, newer.” Airea said, hoping he would see it to. He turned and saw it and his brow creased in confusion. “What the-“ He looked back at Airea and then at the people at the far end of the garden. He nodded towards them and stepped around the bench towards them.

They were both sitting facing them with what looked like a letter between them, held by the man on the right, the woman next to him leaning in to see it. Airea dragged her eyes away from the city and followed Ali as he stepped around the fountain. The man put the letter down and looked up at Ali and Airea, his face contorting into confusion and then anger.

“What are you doing in here?” His tone was smooth, but hinting towards aggression.

“Uh –“ Ali glanced back at Airea and then turned around uncertainly.

“Don’t try to lie, you’ve been caught now. How you could have gotten up here I have no idea. We’d have seen you walk through the door and it’s too high for you to climb up the wall.”

Ali and Airea didn’t know what to say. The man was right in saying that they weren’t meant to be there; it was a private garden which only people who had been granted special permission by the king were allowed to enter, however as the last king to know about it was King Ribald who had died about a hundred years previously, so they weren’t really sure how to react to that statement.

“So? How did you get in here? You’re clearly spies Gallian’s spies. He knows that he can’t set foot in the castle again, and so he sends yet more spies. Well I don’t know what he expects to get; we’re yet to agree on anything.” The last statement was clearly meant to be a boast of how he had ruined their plans, but it sounded more defeated and sad. He wanted to reach an agreement; he just couldn’t.

“Tal!” The woman spoke sharply, tapping him on the arm in reprimand. “Don’t tell them anything. You’d have to be an idiot to actually say something like that!”

“We’re not spies” Ali said quickly, before the man - Tal – could respond and incriminate them further. They both turned to look at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you are.” Tal said, waving his hand loftily in their direction at the same time as the woman looked curiously at them and in a softer voice than before asked “Are you not?”

“No.” Airea said firmly, stepping up to Ali’s side and looking Tal directly in the eyes. “I can assure you we aren’t and if you used your common sense you would realise that there are means possible that would enable anyone to climb up that wall. We entered the courtyard the same way you did; the doorway.”

“Then you must be in the favour of the king.” The woman said looking at Airea in the same she had looked at the man Tal. He looked as if he wanted to interrupt but the woman cut him off, resting an arm on his saying,

“How else would they know about the door without the king’s permission? Even spies are not that resourceful.” He looked irritated, his brow knitting and his fists clenching.

Ali and Airea looked at each other, fully aware of the oddity of the woman’s reasoning. Something didn’t seem quite right to Airea and she couldn’t help but feel unsure of herself.

“Now, what are your names and which to which state do you belong?” The woman asked.

Ali was bewildered, but something stirred in the back of Airea’s mind. States. An image of her tutor and a map of Eurain crept into her mind.

“Malon” She said, suddenly remembering the name her tutor had used instead of Regar. Ali looked at her, taken aback, not even trying to hide his surprise. Airea looked at him and, seeing his confusion, added “And my friend is from-“She paused for a second as she tried to remember the old name for Narlo “Gast.” She finished, remembering the giggles that //that// name had caused. Not because it was reminiscent of the word ‘ghastly’, but because in the tribe languages that their mother had taught them, a Gast is the pile of droppings a dog leaves behind.