Fiona walked slowly through the dense forest, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves.
With each step, she traced her tracks with the pebble she threw on the way.
Grandmama had taught her that trick to ensure she never lost her way.
If only Grandmama knew she was venturing into the Red Forest…
The air grew heavy, the trees twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.
Fiona pressed on, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Finally, she emerged from the oppressive gloom, gasping as she saw Heather standing there, arms crossed, her expression stern.
"Ah! Heather!" Fiona's voice was a breathy mix of relief and dread.
"Fiona! You went into the Red Forest? Again!" Heather's voice, usually warm, was sharp, laced with a familiar edge of resentment.
"I… I just needed to see the city one more time…" Fiona murmured, her gaze drawn to the distant, a life forever out of reach.
"You know why we can't wander into the city," Heather retorted, her fingers tightening around Fiona's wrist as she pulled her back towards the well-worn path to their village.
"Those who leave, don't return the same."
"I know, I know." Fiona paused before she continued, "Please, don't tell Grandmama and Grandpapa," she begged, the weight of their disapproval already pressing down on her.
Heather gave her a small grin, "I'll think about it."
She stroked an imaginary beard, a silly gesture they'd shared since childhood.
They both laughed, the sound light in the heavy air.
...….
The aroma of steaming porridge filled the small cottage, the soft evening light illuminating the small space.
"How did training practice go?" Grandmama asked as she placed a bowl of porridge in front of the girls.
She sat on her spot at the table.
"Fine, Grandmama!" the girls echoed, their voices a practiced harmony.
"Are you sure? The Beaker said you failed the test, Heather." Grandmama's tone hardened, the words hanging in the air like a condemnation.
"Grandmama, I'm trying…" Heather whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Trying? Trying? You and your sister are one of the few Wanderers left with any magic, and you're trying? Your blood is supposed to hold the power of the first wanderers."
Grandmama's eyes flashed with disappointment. "You disgrace them."
Tears stung Heather's eyes, threatening to spill.
"Take a look at Fiona..." Grandmama went on as she looked at Fiona, who bowed her head.
"Top of her class, and you're the older sister. You had five years of practice before she joined in."
"That's enough," Grandpapa interjected, his voice a low rumble, his hand gently covering Grandmama's.
"I just can't with Heather," Grandmama scoffed, snatching her bowl of porridge and storming away, her footsteps echoing like thunder.
Heather watched her go, tears streaming down her face.
"Hey, Heather, don't mind what your Grandmama said." Grandpapa's voice was a soothing balm.
Fiona reached out, her fingers brushing against Heather's trembling shoulder.
"Don't cry, Heather." She had witnessed over and over how Grandmama would criticize Heather.
Heather sniffed, her gaze hardening. "I'll show her," she whispered, a fierce determination burning in her eyes. "I'll show them all."
.....
The next day, the training field was charged with anticipation. The few trainees with powers were all gathered in the field.
The air shimmered with latent magic.
"And now, I want you to project that power, to shape the very fabric of reality with your will," the trainer instructed, his voice ringing with authority.
"Imagine the world you desire, and make it real."
Fiona closed her eyes, visualizing a tranquil garden, bathed in the golden light of a sunrise.
A warmth spread through her, a sense of effortless control.
"Well done, Fiona!" the trainer exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration.
Fiona opened her eyes, revealing a breathtaking vista – a lush garden, vibrant with life, bathed in the soft glow of a rainbow-streaked sky.
"Ugh! I just can't!" Heather grumbled, her brow furrowed in frustration, her hands trembling as she struggled to channel her power.
A dark energy pulsed around her, erratic and volatile.
"Heather…" Fiona whispered, her voice laced with concern.
Oh no! She was losing control… again.
Suddenly, the air crackled with raw power.
The sky above them darkened, a sudden, violent storm erupting. The wind howled, whipping their hair around their faces.
Thunder cracked and a bolt of lightning split the air, striking the training dummy, setting it ablaze.
"Heather?" the trainer called out, his voice laced with alarm. "Heather!"
"Take cover!" The trainer yelled. The other trainees scattered, their faces pale with fear, leaving Fiona and Heather alone in the chaos.
"Heather! Stop! Please!" Fiona cried, shaking Heather's arm. "Heather!"
"Ah!" Heather gasped, her eyes snapping open, her gaze wide and disoriented. She surveyed the scene – the charred dummy, the fire, the panicked faces of her fellow trainees.
"Heather, are you okay?" Fiona asked, her voice trembling.
"Fiona…" Heather's voice was barely a whisper.
"Heather, I'm sorry, but I have to remove you from the class. Your magic is too volatile." The trainer's voice was firm, but laced with regret. "You are a danger."
"But I didn't mean to..." Heather pleaded.
"But you did. Why can't you be more like Fiona?"
Fiona's heart twisted, a sharp pang of guilt. No, not this.
"I hate you!" Heather screamed, her voice raw with pain, and she stormed off, leaving a trail of shattered illusions in her wake.
...
Fiona watched from the kitchen window as Grandmama's words, sharp and unforgiving, lashed at Heather.
"You are a curse! A blight upon our bloodline! Forbidden magic courses through you!"
"I'm sick and tired of this!" Heather retorted, her voice cracking with despair.
"Can't you just be like Fiona?!"
"I am not Fiona! I never will be!" Heather cried, her voice filled with a desperate defiance.
Fiona couldn't bear to listen any longer. She slipped out of the village, disappearing into the depths of the Red Forest, wishing she could simply fade away.
She was tired of this. Tired of being the perfect Fiona while her sister gets to be constantly criticized.
That evening, she returned to find Grandmama weeping, her face buried in her hands.
"Where's Heather?" Fiona asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"She left," Grandpapa replied, his voice heavy with sorrow. "She said she had to find her own path."
Five years passed, each day a hollow echo of the one before.
Then, a letter arrived, bearing Heather's familiar handwriting.
"Meet me at the Red Forest by dusk. Come alone."
Fiona should have known better. She should have never trusted her.
Heather had lured her into a trap. Rough hands seized her, and a gag silenced her cries.
"Sorry, sis! It's just business," Heather said, her eyes cold, her grin chilling.
Why would Heather betray her like this?
Fiona spent days alone, locked in a cold, abandoned house, her stomach gnawing with hunger.
Then one day, her captors returned.
"Load her into the carriage. We have a buyer!"
That was the day she saw him.
His eyes, with all its depths, held a promise of both danger and salvation.
Her Dimitri.