The Lost One

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The sky would burn bright orange for only 30 seconds with the blasts coming from the other side of the world. The ones that the children couldn't see, but had always been told the stories of; and then the clouds would move in and cover the moon while turning the sky a light violet color until morning.

Far away, the bombs fell on villages and towns that Verity had never seen, and she doubted she ever would. Before the Wars had started, her father had told her of a world that practiced peace, one where people's of different nations could travel freely between them. In his youth, he had traveled far and wide. Then, he'd been a diplomat of some sort, she forgot exactly what for now and was too afraid to ask her mother. After her father's death, they didn't speak much of him. Verity held tightly onto the memories she had, and when Samuel came back he would help her remember the things she was starting to forget.

Thinking about Samuel made Verity feel cold. She started back up the animal trail towards their small stone cabin. The protective charms her mother had put in place, kept them safe from the enemies detection. At least, they hoped so. Verity was sure that her mother wouldn't approve of these late night trips to the edge of the meadow. She wasn't sure herself if the charms went that far, but every night, after a long day of farming and tending to their animals, when her hands and feet and heart were tired of the labor and isolation, the young girl found herself winding down the path, thinking of the sky when the mages bombs and spells hit the faraway places she longed to go.

Samuel had left them to cross the border by the sea. But he promised he would come back and take her with him to those faraway places and away from her mother and their sad existence. Verity knew it wasn't her mother's fault, but she still resented her for not being happy without their father. Verity had just turned thirteen last summer, but she'd been taking care of their mother and keeping the farm going for three winters now, a little after Samuel left. She knew that he couldn't have known the full strain their mother's mind would have after he left. If he had, surely he wouldn't have gone. She believed that he meant it when he said he'd come back. She had to believe it. It was her last bit of hope.

Her mother should have started teaching her the arts by now. But she hadn't. And Verity knew she likely wouldn't. On the days that her mother was coherent (which were few and far between) they spent them as happily together as they could, with her mother brushing her hair or making her new clothes. They never talked about the things that mattered, but those moments were so rare that Verity never pushed the subject. She was too tired to try her magic anyways. She could sometimes feel the power inside of her, pulsing when her emotions threatened to take over. She'd become an expert at controlling those emotions in the last three years and burying her power deep inside.

The cabin was in her line of sight now, one more hill and she'd be back, crawling through a window and into their shared bed.

A bright orange light suddenly blinded her, and a powerful force threw her to the ground. Flames and explosions were everywhere. The war had finally come to them.