Promise

Juniper gazed out the window, her curiosity piqued at the sight of the family moving into the house across from hers. She tilted her head and watched the winged family move totes and decorative boxes from the carriage and into the brick and wood house.

Her hands were firmly placed on the window seal and when she saw a boy, about her age, she started jumping up and down.

“Raven, what are you doing?”

“My name is Juniper!” She yelled over her shoulder, her jumping stopped. Raven Juniper Obsidian didn’t like that her mom named her after a scary bird, hated it actually. At five years old she told her mom she wanted to go by her middle name, so her parents entertained the child. Juniper beamed with delight when her parents addressed her as such for the first time.

“Raven, Juniper, whoever you are- what are you doing?” Her father, General Lionel, walked up behind the girl, but he kept his distance.

Juniper watched the boy, tracking his every move, watching each flap of his blue wings.

“Raven!”

She turned around slowly. “It’s Juniper.” Her voice was a deadly calm.

“I don’t care.” He growled. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Why?”

“Raven. Now.”

“It’s- “the words died on her tongue. She saw her father’s eyes darken, like storm clouds rolling in.

“Now.”

Juniper ducked her head and walked slowly towards him. When she got too close, Lionel coughed and gestured her back. She took five steps back.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Now, what were you doing?”

“I was watching them move in.” Juniper pointed to the window behind her.

Lionel tilted his head and started walking. His steps were light and graceful as he approached the window that Juniper had been looking out of. He watched the family moving in and noted the wings along with the boy that was running around helping his family move boxes.

“Who are they?” Juniper stayed a good distance away from her father. He liked it that way and she kind of knew why. She asked him once, he said it had something to do with her looking like her deceased mother and being the cause of her death. She didn’t understand the weight of his words or the implications.

“I don’t know,” Lionel mumbled. “They didn’t inform me of any new families moving in.”

“Are they a part of the Warriors?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you work with the dad?”

“I don’t know.

“How old is the- “

“I don’t know!” Lionel snapped.

Juniper jumped. She cursed herself for jumping. This was nothing new, this was normal. Why did she jump? Why did she care? He didn’t see her jump.

“Stay here,” Lionel walked to the front door left of the window. “Got it?”

He didn’t stay long enough for Juniper to answer.

Juniper waited a minute before walking up to the window, drawing the plain, grey curtains, and turning around. She sprinted towards the staircase that was behind her and headed for the hall behind the staircase. Her bare feet smacked against the marble floor as she ran as fast as she could to the window at the end of the hall.

She pushed open the two window doors and looked down. She had made the jump several times before, sneaking out of the stuffy house whenever her father was asleep. Not that it mattered. Her father didn’t know where she was half the time. She learned to stay out of his way.

Juniper bit her lip, placed her hand on the window sill, and pushed up.

Her father told her to stay in the house, but how could she? She lived in a neighborhood filled with generals, lieutenants, and other high-ranking Warrior personnel. She had no idea what each title meant, but she knew that none of them had kids with them. All of them had either grown up and moved away or didn’t exist, to begin with. So how could she pass up the opportunity to meet a kid? To maybe make a friend. She simply couldn’t.

Juniper sat down on the sill and push away from the window, landing gracefully on her feet in the grass.

She lowered herself into a crouch among the tall grass for a minute. She loved grass, loved the color, the earthy smell, and the feeling of it. She didn’t get to play in the grass with her father much. He kept her locked inside mostly, she didn’t know why. Her father said it was because the outside is a dangerous place and that her playing outside got her mother killed. She didn’t get it.

Juniper stood and walked to the edge of the house, doing her best to stay close to the wall for cover. She only peaked her head out to see where father was. Sure enough, Lionel was talking with the tallest male in the family. The father, Juniper assumed. He, too, had wings but they weren’t blue like the boy’s. His were green.

The boy with blue wings stood next to the tall male, and Juniper smiled.

Her eyes grew wide when she noticed the direction that the boy was looking in. He didn’t react at all, he simply stared at her and she prayed to whatever gods existed that he wouldn’t say anything. When the boy looked back at her father, her heart stopped. He was going to tell him! He was going to tell her father and she was going to be punished until the end of time.

Juniper bit her lip and waited for the boy to open his mouth and reveal what he saw.

But he didn’t. The boy looked at Lionel and then back at her. He repeated this action a few times before Juniper nodded her head. The boy nodded back in understanding.

“Sorry to bother you again,” Juniper picked up Lionel’s voice, all attention going to her father now. She pulled back, flattening herself against the brick. “I wish they would have informed me of your arrival, lieutenant Cassius.”

Juniper traced the point of her ear as she moved the piece of hair tickling her ear. She tilted her head slightly as if it would help her hear better.

“If only the Warrior unite communicated more. That’s a wish that will never come true, unfortunately.” The tall male had a deep voice, deeper than her father’s.

“Well, let me know if you need any help.”

Juniper moved further from the edge and prayed her father didn’t decide to do a random house check. She squeezed her eyes shut, every muscle in her body tensed. She stayed flat against the wall for a minute, two-

“Hey!”

She jumped.

“Hi,” her voice shook.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The boy chuckled.

“It’s fine,” Juniper pushed herself away from the house, brushed off invisible dust from her pants, and straightened. “I’m used to it.”

The boy drew his eyebrows together.

“What are you doing over here?” Juniper snapped, realizing what was happening. “You’re not allowed over here.”

“Why?”

“Because!” Juniper walked over to the boy, turned him around, and began to push him away from her house, staying clear of his wings as she touched his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” The boy dug his heels into the ground and extended his wings.

Juniper jumped back the second his wings touched her arms. She let out a slow breath, eyeing the vibrant blue of his feathers. She had seen other fairy wings, but none of them were this vibrant. That’s not to say that she hadn’t seen blue wings before. She had; they were just more muted. The shade of blue she saw most was as light and dull as the sky. But his wings were blue, not like the sky. Blue like the diamond her father had on the pommel of his sword. They were a deep, rich blue on the ends and a lighter blue, closer to the color of the sky, but more vibrant, where his wings and back met.

“Hey!” The boy snapped his fingers in front of Juniper.

She gasped and blinked a few times.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked.

“Fine. How are your wings so blue?” She walked around the boy and looked at his wings again.

“They just are,” the boy turned making Juniper face him.

“Huh,” Juniper bit her nail. “They’re just so- blue!”

“What of it?” He straightened, tucking his wings in more.

“Nothing! I think they’re pretty.” Juniper put her hands behind her back and tilted her head.

“They’re not meant to be pretty! They’re a symbol of power!” He flared his wings in demonstration.

Juniper giggled.

“It’s not funny.”

Her giggles turned to laughter.

“Really?” He stared at her with a blank face.

“It is funny.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Kind of. “

“No.”

“Just a little bit,” Juniper used her fingers to show how funny it was. A small gap lay between her thumb and index finger.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You’re hopeless.” He looked away.

“And you’re funny.” Juniper smiled.

He rolled his eyes, and her smile widened.

Juniper was content to stay there, to spend more time with this boy. She was happy with him, actually happy. It was easy for her to be with him, to converse. She felt like herself before she lost her mom. She didn’t have to watch what she said or how she was standing or how close she was standing to him. She could simply be.

Juniper hummed.

“What?” The boy tilted his head.

“Nothing,” she smiled. Juniper looked around her, at the house that sat feet away from her. At the dull bricks that seemed to darken when her mother passed. To the bushes planted in front that didn’t receive any attention and sighed. “You need to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because. He won’t be happy.” Juniper walked in front of the boy and gestured for him to follow. The crunching of twigs and movement of grass behind told her he was following and on foot.

“Who won’t be happy?”

Juniper continued moving forward. The tall grass brushed against her arms as she moved. The grass used to be a perfect hiding spot for her when she was smaller. She would run to a random spot, duck down and curl into a ball. Her mother would spend hours looking for her. The only reason that she would eventually find Juniper was because the child couldn’t contain her laughter any longer. The hiding technique fooled her father as well. Juniper got creative with her outdoor hiding, seeing as she couldn’t climb trees when she was four. Her favorite spots were the bushes and grass, and they worked every time.

“There you are,” lieutenant Cassius spoke as Juniper and the boy approached the carriage in front of the house. “Your mother has been searching for you.”

“I’m sorry,” the boy lowered his head. “I went exploring and should have told you.”

“You are forgiven. You need to let us know next time you wander off, okay?”

Juniper watched as the boy’s father bent down and clasped the boy’s shoulder.

“Yes, father.”

She didn’t know what to think, or what to say. She never had interactions like that with her father. It was always him telling her what she did wrong and then straight into the punishment. No loving touches, no soft voices.

Lieutenant Cassius looked at her standing next to the boy. “And are you-”
 “Lionel is my father.” Juniper put her hands behind her back.

The familiar sound of her front door unlatching reached her ears. She turned in time to see her father storming towards her.

“It was nice to meet you,” Juniper spoke fast. “But I’m afraid I must take my leave.”

The male- Cassius- stood and the boy tilted his head. Juniper took a few steps back before Lionel grasped her arm and half walked, half dragged her back to the house.

She was used to this.

He grumbled, and Juniper had no idea what he said.

Juniper looked over her shoulder and saw the boy take a few steps forward, Cassius reaching out a hand to stop him from moving one step further.

“What’s your name!” He yelled. Apparently, he didn’t know that he didn’t need to yell for Juniper to hear him.

“I’m Juniper!” She yelled back, consequences damned.

“Avdel!” He pointed to himself.

Juniper smiled, even as her father threw her inside the house and slammed the door shut.

Juniper was beyond happy to have another kid in the neighborhood, but her father set a strict rule: no seeing Avdel. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him. Juniper was quick to realize that while her father had put that rule in place, he didn’t care. Three years went by, and her father started to progressively lose even more interest in her life. Before he would ask her once a day how her reading was going, or if she may have received sudden artistic skills to become a cartographer, but no more. Her father probably thought she was a shutout, living her life in her room, wasting away. Little did he know that she knew more than ever.

She learned that he doesn’t keep his meetings very well sealed off and that she had a perfect hiding place in the meeting room. Tucked away in a corner hidden by the one plant that her father decided to keep alive, she would hide between the wall and the bookshelf with the plant covering her. It was there that she learned about Zadortha’s weak king, the growing power of Azariya and their queen, and the other kingdoms that were beginning to challenge her. Her father was growing concerned about this and started pushing for Warrior camps to begin training twelve-year-old’s. Juniper almost gathered the courage to curse her father for having lowered the age from fourteen to twelve, but she kept her mouth shut. Not because she knew her father would become angrier with her, but because she knew why. He did all of that behind the king’s back because each time he and a few other generals brought their concerns to King Caius, he brushed them off and told them not to worry about it. Each time Juniper heard this repeated at the meetings, she cursed inwards.

The Azariya queen is a true leader, Juniper thought as she stared at her ceiling. She’s fighting for her kingdom. She’s not going to let a group of stuck-up kings push her around. Especially not King Caius. Juniper turned and looked out the window, the moon slowly rising to mid-sky. King Caius is an absolute-

“Idiot,” Juniper pushed her covers back, wide-eyed. “I’m an idiot!” She whispered to herself as she tiptoed over to the boots that she kept by her dresser. “An absolute idiot.” She yanked on the boots, crept out of her room, and moved as fast as she could down the stairs. She approached the familiar window, pushed open the doors, and leaped out.

Avdel was already waiting for her at the edge of the land that her father owned. She smiled, half-closed the window, and walked over to him. Thank the gods that we only have grass surrounding our house, Juniper thought as she moved through the grass.

“Sorry,” she mouthed to him as she got closer.

Avdel smiled and shrugged his shoulders. All was forgiven. He gestured his head forward, and the two began to walk.

They didn’t dare speak until they were far away from both their houses. Their parents didn’t like them being together. Her father was the main reason. When they first met, Lionel made it very clear to Cassius that he did not want Avdel to go near Juniper. That didn’t stop them. It also didn’t stop Cassius. Juniper had caught Cassius waving ‘goodbye’ to Avdel as he left, and waving ‘hi’ to her as she waited for Avdel to reach her. She blushed the first time and gave a tiny wave back. Since then, if he pops out to wave at them, she’ll stand up on her tiptoes and practically wave with her whole arm.

They passed by several houses with faded bricks and dead plants. Winter was coming and it was going to be a cold one. Juniper could feel it in the wind, in her bones.

Juniper sat down first, dangling her legs over the cliffside. Avdel followed. She was always amazed at how close her house was to a cliffside. It was maybe a thirty-minute walk away, and somehow all the houses were still standing. Not that there were many close to the edge of the cliff. No, the builders weren’t that stupid.

The moon rose above the world, bathing it in white light as it showed down.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave this place?” Juniper leaned back onto her arms, her legs hitting rock each time they swayed.

“Maybe someday, but only if you come with.” Avdel looked at her, she smiled back.

“That could be fun. You and I, out on an adventure.” She looked out over the cliff, to the mountains that loomed overhead.

“Yeah,” he leaned back on his arms.

“So, what are we doing for your birthday this year?” Juniper looked over at him.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing anything this year.”

She sat up. “Why not?”

“It’s not set in stone yet.” Avdel sat up and faced her.

“Avdel, what’s going on?”

“Juniper, please, don’t freak out.”

“Don’t tell me not to freak out.”

He shut his eyes. “Father and I have been discussing Warrior training.”

Juniper swallowed.

“He even talked to your father about it. All the general has to do is sign a document and it’s official.”

“No.” Juniper shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Jun, I should have told you sooner.”

“No, no no no no you can’t go.” Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“It’s not official, Jun.”

“But you’re talking as if it is.” She bit her lip.

No, no, gods no.

“Juniper, it’s not.”

“If paperwork is the last thing that needs to be signed it's official, Avdel.”

The male shut his eyes.

Juniper pinched the space between her eyes.

“Jun,” Avdel touched her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.”

He took his hand back.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Juniper stood. “Everyone leaves me.” She hugged herself and began walking back to her house.

Juniper locked herself in her room. Her dad didn’t come looking for her and Avdel didn’t try to visit her. A few days passed, and she only left to grab a slice of bread and a cup of water.

Juniper sat at her desk mostly, staring at the blank wall. Everyone leaves me, she picked at her leggings absentmindedly. A blank sheet of paper sat in front of her, along with a quill and ink. Her room was lit by the moon, and the oil lap to her left. The orange and red flame danced around, casting shadows along the wall.

She usually didn’t light a lantern, she couldn’t stand the look of fire or the smell of it. They brought torches that night. Juniper didn’t want to go inside, she wanted to keep playing, so her mom agreed to one more game. One more game, and then bedtime. Juniper took the deal and hid. She didn’t see what happened, all she knew was her father yelled out her mom’s name before calling out to her. He told her the game was over. Juniper thought he was joking until he found her, scooped her up, and ran. The wind smelled of fire and what Juniper now knew was burning flesh.

That was when everything changed when her father shoved her to the side. At first, he was quiet. He didn’t speak to her, or anyone for that matter. He stayed silent for two days, and when Juniper finally asked when mom was coming back, he snapped. He tore his eyes away from the golden ring around his finger and there was no light in them as he stared at Juniper. As he stared at her all too familiar features given to her by the woman he fell in love with. The woman that gave up everything for him, for her. And he snapped. He told her over and over that it was her fault, that had she listened to them when they told her to come in, her mother would still be there. That because of her, her mother was never coming back and that he would be alone because he would never find another woman like her mother.

“It’s all your fault,” Lionel would tell her that for months after the incident. “If you had only gone to bed.” He’d growl before leaving her in a dark room. Alone. He wanted her to feel what he felt. Completely, and utterly alone.

Everyone always leaves me.

Juniper dropped her leg and sat up. But how could it be my fault? She tilted her head. I was a child, I wanted to play a game. I never intended to lose anyone.

Juniper leaned forward, dipped her quill in ink, and put the tip to the paper.

Mom,

I miss you.

#

She sat at her desk, a new sheet of paper sat in from of her with the same quill. Daylight spilled into her room, the image of dancing flames long gone, along with the memory of that night. She poured all of her heart, fears, and sorrows onto paper the night before. She had addressed it all to her mom. That’s what moms do, right? Listen to their child’s fears and complaints, and try to give them advice and comfort. But her mom couldn’t comfort her, at least not physically.

Juniper had laid herself bare and spoke of her fear of Avdel leaving her, of being alone again. Of her wanting to be a family again… She had written everything that she kept pent up, and the burden on her shoulders had lightened, but just a little. Enough that she felt she could finally breathe again.

Juniper stared at the paper trying to figure out how to start the letter. How could she put everything into words that he would understand?

She grabbed her quill and smiled. He’ll understand.

Av-

Clink!

Juniper dragged the quill across the paper and dragged the end of the ‘v’ out longer than it should. “Come on!” She looked at the paper and growled.

Clink!

“What?” Juniper looked at her window.

A rock came up and clinked against the window.

Juniper tilted her head. She stood up from her chair and walked over to the window across from her desk. A rock came up and hit the window right as Juniper reached it. She flinched and looked down.

Avdel stood outside, a handful of rocks in one hand and a single rock in the other hand poised to hit her window. She pushed her window open and looked at the male standing with a sheepish grin.

“What are you doing?” She snapped.

“Come here,” he dropped his rocks, each rock thumped against the dirt-packed ground.

“Why?”

“Please, just come down here.”

“Give me a minute.” Juniper shut her window.

Juniper made her way downstairs, her father nowhere to be seen. She rounded the stairs and walked to the same window and leaped out. Avdel was already waiting for her, seeing as her room was just a floor above the window.

“Finally,” Avdel smiled.

“What?” Juniper folded her arms.

“Walk with me?”

“That’s not a good idea. He’s awake and I don’t know where he is.”

“Please?”

Juniper looked around. “Fine,” she sighed.

Avdel gestured her onward, and the two walked to the cliffside.

“I’ve missed you,” Avdel sat down. Juniper followed.

“It’s only been two days.”

“Two days too long.”

“You know if you go to the camp to train you aren’t going to see me for way longer?”

“Yes,” Avdel picked at his pants.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” Juniper stared off at the mountains.

“He signed the papers yesterday and another fairy general flew them to the camp.”

“Talk about express mail,” Juniper mumbled.

“Yeah…”

Juniper picked at her nails, the silence between them fragile. It was overbearing, it felt like it was suffocating her, preventing her from saying all the words she wanted to say, I'll miss you, don't go, stay here and be with me, we can run away together, I love you. But when she finally found the courage to speak, to break the silence that lay so still between them, the words she wanted to say no longer seemed appropriate. When she looked at him to speak, looked into his blue eyes that were filled with hope and worry, she knew it was selfish of her to say anything that she wanted.

“How long will you be gone?” Her voice was foreign to her, distant. And the words ever more so.

“At least three years.”

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“You have to write me each day.”

“You have to do the same.” Avdel smiled, the worry starting to dissipate from his eyes.

Juniper looked at him and tried to smile but failed. “Are you happy?”

“Am I terrible if I say yes?”

She drew her eyebrows in. “Why would you be terrible if you said yes? If this is something you want to do, there is nothing wrong with that. Sure, you’re leaving me and that’s going to hurt, but why would you feel terrible?”

“Because of that. I’m leaving you,” Avdel pointed at her.

“Who cares? As long as you write me every day, we won’t have any problems with this.” Juniper wanted to believe her words, she really did. She wanted to believe that he would write her every day and that a piece of paper would be the best thing to replace their nightly visits. She wanted so badly to believe that everything was going to be okay because he wrote her a letter, but she knew that she was going to hurt. She knew that this was not going to repair the damage that was being done to her heart, but she couldn't hold onto him. If you love someone, you let them go, right?

“Promise?” He held out his pinkie.

Juniper rolled her eyes and stuck out her right pinkie. Avdel smiled and curled his pinkie around hers.

“Promise.” Juniper smiled. As much as she could smile.

They yanked their pinkies apart. Juniper laughed. 
 She sighed, “I’m gonna miss you.” Her smile turned

“I’m gonna miss you too, Jun.”

Juniper wasn’t able to go out and say goodbye to him the next day. She stood in front of the window where she first spied Avdel. Instead of watching him carry boxes inside, she watched as he gathered his single bag. A fairy Warrior general was with him, and the two spread their wings. Juniper watched Avdel’s blue wings spread wide before he jumped into the air.

Juniper smiled, even though she wanted to cry, she smiled and leaned against the wall, watching Avdel disappear from her view. She spoke that single word, her voice barely a whisper, “promise.”