"In the furnace of the Creator, humanity was born. Wrought from clay and mud, given the breath of life. This gift of life, as the Divine Will gave to us, we must learn to give to others." The village Priestess preached this saying often. But later in life, Renya learned this was seldom the case.

Kagia, 999th Year of the Skypiercer

Renya gazed out at the village fields, the neat rows of rice stalks pleasing to her eyes. If only people were like stalks of rice, she thought. Then the world would be so much simpler. But as the Priestess had said countless times, The Divine Will did not desire a bland, monotonous world. So every mortal being, even wild beasts, was molded to be different from one another.

She stood up from the bench, pushing her spectacles back into place with one hand and dusting the backside of her ankle-length skirt with the other. About time for a new pair, Renya mused. Hopefully, one not so poorly-fitting as her current pair. She would have to make a note of it for the next the peddlers visited Silverleaf.

The heavy rainfall the night before had ensured morning would be unbearably humid. It was hardly just humans that felt the heat. The chirping of songbirds was noticeably absent.

Hitching the hems of her skirt up only slightly, Renya started down a dirt path back to the village, stepping around puddles of muddy-brown water. She passed the village fields, where farmers were busy at work. Occasionally, one would wave at her, and she would wave back. They were well acquainted with her, the only orphan of Silverleaf Village and an occasional errand girl for the Priestess.

The Divine Will loved what they had created but could not bear to see their creations grow lazy and wicked, so under the ancient sun, they taught mortals to toil. Another proverb the Priestess favored. "So it is their will," Renya always echoed back. But privately, she held her doubts. If the Divine Will truly loved their creations, why had they chosen to instill wickedness in the hearts of mortals? Renya did not understand why, but it was not her place to question the Will. She merely had to obey and live her life out as the Will intended.

Thoughts of the Priestess reminded her of the task at hand. She finished delivering her notes. Now all Renya needed to do was report back to the Priestess before being let off for the day.

As Renya continued down the dirt path, she reached a sturdy stone wall. Beyond it and far off to the distance was a cluster of thatched cottages. The village wall only came up to her waist. The original settlers of the village had not seen any point in an extravagant village wall. Wolves were the worst of the problems in this part of Kagia, and they usually kept a wide berth of sizable villages. Although some of the older farmers would often regale the younger children with tales of dashing highwaymen and baby-eating bandits, Renya scoffed at the idea of brigands in Kagia. Criminal bands were something an honest traveler would come across in the Edgelands. Not in Silverleaf, a quaint hamlet miles away from any of the real conflicts.

Renya smiled and walked into the shade of a large solus tree. The canopy of bright-red leaves gave her a much-needed respite from the glaring sun. It was a tall, sturdy tree with roots as old as the village itself. She tugged at the collar of her dress. The neckline was set high, even by Kagian standards, and it was doing her no favors in the current weather.

Reluctantly, she broke away from the shadow of the solus tree and continued toward the village.

What passed for a village gate in Silverleaf was a crude arch built of stone and wood. A relatively pale boy dressed in colorful, eye-catching clothes several sizes too large sat on the edge of the stone foundation. Upon closer inspection, she was surprised to find the boy was actually sleeping. He was as pretty as any girl, if not even more feminine than any of the village girls, Renya included.

His robes were another matter altogether; the style was nothing like she had seen before. His shirt, peeking through the folds of his dark jacket, was a soft blue, the collar lined with silver embroidery depicting birds in flight. No one wore clothes that fancy, not even folks from the Crossroads.

Renya approached him warily, remembering the words of the priestess. "Never trust an outsider, regardless of appearance." With a dead twig scooped up from the side of the path, she cautiously poked him in the cheek.

The young boy awoke with a start, his eyes wide and panicked, darting frantically around their surroundings. Then he peered up at Renya with a cross look on his face.

"What do you want?" he asked, lazily stretching his arms high above his head. He had a delicate voice, melodious like a songbird.

Renya tilted her head and paused. "Silverleaf Village is safe enough," she said, crossing her arms underneath her chest. "But I wouldn't put it to the test."

The boy shook his head groggily. "Here?" He chuckled. "I don't think there's any danger to be found here."

"And if I was a kidnapper on the prowl for defenseless prey?"

"Then would you really be standing here idly chatting with me?" he replied matter-of-factly.

She sniffed and turned her cheek, walking past the young boy and through the village gate. Sometimes there was just no reasoning with certain types of people.

The boy jumped to his feet and began following her, maintaining a distance of several paces behind. His arms clasped behind his back like a high-ranking lord, he cleared his throat at nearly every other step.

Renya sighed heavily. "What do you want?" she asked, turning to face the boy with a hand on her hip.

"Well," the boy said, his brows knitting together. "Where exactly is this Silverleaf Village of yours?"

She frowned. "Silverleaf is Silverleaf."

He shook his head. "No, no," he said, an exaggerated groan following promptly. "I mean, where is this really?"

"Silverleaf is under the rule of Kagia," Renya replied.

The boy touched his chin, a distant expression glazing over his face.

Renya cocked her head quizzically.

He flashed her a warm smile. "My name is Qilen." The boy placed a fist over his heart and bowed his head. "Professional vagabond, premier keeper of stories, and occasional seer at your service."

"I'm Renya," she replied curtly. "If we're finished here, I'll be going on my way."

Qilen grimaced. "That's all? No clamoring for stories? Not even a single request?"

"Nope." And with that, Renya turned and stalked off toward the village, leaving Qilen standing in her dust.

Unfortunately, he was a persistent one. Jogging lightly, Qilen rounded her and planted himself in her path. "Would you like a reading? Any love troubles? Maybe a peek into your future relationships?"

"Come on now," Qilen pressured. "A free palm reading, what do you say?"

Renya relented with a click of her tongue. "Fine." She shoved her hand out at him. "Make it quick."

The boy took her hand and cradled it in his palms. They were soft, not the palms of someone who had to work for a living. "One second," he muttered, shutting his eyes shut. "What I see is. . ." Qilen's voice trailed off.

She arched an eyebrow.

"Nothing," the boy concluded. "I'm not seeing anything."

Annoyed, Renya snatched back her hand. "Do you enjoy wasting my time?"

Qilen didn't answer. He looked at her with a thoughtful expression.

"Who is he?" came a flat, demanding voice from behind.

Startled, Renya spun around to meet the owner of the voice. Her gaze settled on the young teen who had spoken. He was tall for his age, lording over Renya by a whole head. Granted, Renya was not known for her impressive stature.

His name was Sujin, and Renya was sure he was the most boring person in the village. With virtually no personality of his own, he was basically an extension of his father, the Mayor.

"None of your business," Renya snapped.

Sujin frowned contemptuously. “I’ll make it my business,” he said. “My father should know about strangers in his village.”

“I’m not a bad person,” Qilen broke in. “Your father will have no quarrel with me.”

With a derisive snort, Sujin shook his head. “That remains to be seen.”

“Now, are we going to stand here talking all day?” Renya asked with an exasperated sigh. “Or, can I finally get on with my errands?”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Qilen sighed. “And I suppose my respects should be paid to the Mayor.”

Sujin nodded. “Wise choice.”

Renya watched as the boy was dragged haplessly away by Sujin.

“Good grief,” she muttered. “Boys.”

She waited a good minute before starting down the path again. Having to deal with Qilen was already tiring; having to deal with Qilen and Sujin would be exhausting.

. . .

A group of children awaited her at the Center, a broad field in the middle of the village. Cottages belonging to the Old Blood surrounded the Center in a loose semi-circle. Just another way for the descendants of the original settlers to flaunt their status, a puffed-up title that meant they were superior to everyone else.

She asked the nearest child, a fair-haired girl with a pretty face, what was going on. In her hands, the girl clutched a thin reed. Renya recognized her as the carpenter's daughter, Shan.

“Sujin caught a prince,” the younger girl crooned. “He looked like those young lords from the tales of the storymen. How many ladies do you reckon he’s rescued? Do you think he's married?”

“He's not that handsome," said another child, a young boy with a jagged scar running across the length of his right cheek. This child Renya did not know. It was hardly surprising; she wasn't well connected with the village youth.

Shan continued, ignoring the boy’s comments. "He had clothes fit for a prince, and I've never seen boots as fine as his."

"Even if he was a lord," the boy grumbled, "why would he want to marry you?"

Without warning, Shan whipped the boy over his head with the reed. “Say that one more time, brittle-bones.”

“See!” the boy exclaimed to Renya. “She’s violent on top of being an uggo!”

Renya rolled her eyes and brushed past the bickering children. She had better things to do than break up the arguments of brats. The arrogant way Qilen had conducted himself with earlier was enough to make her believe he really was some young lord from a far-off kingdom.

She tossed a sideways glance to the Mayor’s house, the only building in the semi-circle to have more than a single floor. Qilen would be there getting grilled by the Mayor. She didn’t envy him. He was a serious man, even more so than his son.

It was fortunate that her errand would take her in the opposite direction.

On a steep cliff overlooking River Shantai was where the old temple was built.

The villagers rarely came up to the temple, as the priestess had a tendency to unnerve them. “It can’t be helped,” said the priestess. Men, especially dull-witted farmers with ears stuffed with rice, feared what they could not understand.

“I’m back,” she called to the double doors of the temple. The paint had long faded, leaving an ugly shade of pockmarked brown. Renya had offered to repaint it on several occasions, but the priestess turned her down every time.

The double doors swung open as Renya approached. The priestess stood at the doorway, her face taut with disapproval. The priestess was more handsome than beautiful; a strong jaw and prominent nose played a part in that matter. Her pale gold curls were hacked short as well, hanging just below her eye level. Renya didn't look much like the priestess. Pale-green eyes and long, dark hair set her apart from everyone else in the village. She took after her father, at least that's what the priestess said.

“When I sent you out I was expecting you back in an hour at most,” the priestess said, her arms crossed underneath her chest. “Instead, you take nearly twice as long.”

Renya grinned sheepishly. “I got sidetracked.”

The priestess blinked. “Doing what?”

“I was just sitting and admiring the scenery,” Renya replied innocently, throwing her arms up in the air. “Is that so wrong?”

“It is when you’re in the middle of an errand,” the priestess snapped.

It was Renya’s turn to cross her arms. “I’m done,” she said slowly, dragging out the syllables. “You said I’d be finished for the day after delivering all your lists. You wouldn’t happen to be going back on your word now?” Renya smirked. “You're the one always telling me how important it is to keep your word.”

“Don’t get smart with me, child.” The priestess rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “But you do bring up a fair point.”

Renya looked up expectantly.

“How’s this?” the priestess said. “You run one last errand for me, and I’ll pay you a few copper coins.”

Intrigued by her offer, Renya brought a hand up to her lip. “How many coppers exactly?”

The priestess raised three slender fingers.

A broad smile spread over Renya's face. “Deal,” she said. “What do you need me to do?”

“A letter,” the priestess muttered. She fished a folded piece of parchment paper out from her sleeve. “Deliver this to the Mayor, and remember, for his eyes only."

With great grace, Renya nearly tripped over her own legs as she stepped forward for the letter. The priestess regarded her coolly before handing the letter over to her. “Remember, for his eyes only," she repeated. “I’ll know if you break your promise.”

“Yes, yes,” Renya said, bobbing her head up and down. “Only for his eyes.”

With an energetic pep in her steps, she began bounding back down to the village. Nearly everyone knew there was something between the priestess and Mayor. He was a widower of a decade, and all the other village men were put off by the priestess. Although Renya didn't see what the priestess saw in the Mayor, she was happy if the priestess was happy.

In the Center, a plump housewife, Lai Teri, was in the process of clearing away the earlier gang of village children. “Go on now,” the housewife ordered in an authoritative tone. “Stop crowding the good Mayor's house.”

“But I want to see the Prince!” Shan cried.

The scarred boy tugged at the sleeve of Shan’s dress. “Let’s just go,” he whined pitifully. “We can’t wait here all day for him.”

Renya cleared her throat. “Listen to Lai Teri, and I’ll bring the Prince over to your usual play spot later today.”

Shan scrunched up her nose in consternation. “You promise?” she asked. A suspicious glint flashed across her eyes. “The usual place?”

“I promise.”

On her tiptoes, Shan leaned in close to Renya’s ears. “The usual place by the river,” she whispered. “And as soon as you can.”

Renya smiled and placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

Satisfied, the girl shrugged off Renya's hand and stalked off. The rest of the children followed at her heels. Only the scarred boy stayed behind. He gave Renya a grateful nod before he too jogged after his Shan.

Lai Teri grunted. "Little tyrant.”

The heavyset woman was one of the few adults in the village who did not treat Renya any differently from the other girls. She was strict on Renya, but so was she to all the other village children.

“Children are manageable,” Renya said brightly. “If you know which buttons to press.”

“Really?” Lai Teri said. “You’ll have to teach me more about it later.” The woman eyed the Mayor’s house. “The stranger. Where did you find him?”

“Found him sleeping right outside the village grounds.” Renya sighed. “I warned him how dangerous that was, but I don’t think he took it to heart. His name is Qilen, at least that’s what he told me.”

Lai Teri placed a hand on her hip. “Strangers in the village help nobody, even young, good-looking strangers,” she said, laughing, but Renya noticed the shakiness present.

“Avoid the mistakes your mother made,” Lai Teri continued. “Don’t go falling for strangers. Even as mysterious and handsome as they can be.”

Renya frowned. People rarely ever mentioned her birth parents. So, on every occasion they were brought up, Renya jumped on it. “Really? What was she like?”

“Nothing like you,” Lai Teri mused. “She was a fierce one, and nothing anybody said ever got through that thick skull of hers.”

“Is that so,” Renya murmured absent-mindedly. She was aware her departed mother was headstrong, but that was the extent of her knowledge. “What was my father like?”

Lai Teri snorted. “A no-good vagrant. That’s all he was.” The woman paused and leaned closer to Renya as if imparting some dark secret. “After they eloped, nobody ever thought we’d see your mother again. Then, she comes sniveling back with a baby in her arms and the father nowhere in sight. I told the fool girl she wasn’t ready for the outside, but they never listen.”

“Oh.” Renya looked down at her toes. All her life, she imagined her father to be a dashing figure greater than life. It was disappointing to get to know him like this, but it was better than nothing.

“Remember this,” Lai Teri said severely. “You can't go running off with strange boys just because they make your heart flutter. Find a good man in the village, someone reliable, like Sujin. Now he's a boy who can provide for you.”

She gagged inwardly at the idea of settling down with Sujin. “I’ll take your advice to heart," she forced out, smiling crookedly. “It's about time I should get going. The priestess gave me an errand, and you know how she gets when I take my time.”

“Yes,” Lai Teri said bitterly. “I do know how she gets.”

Renya mumbled a few more pleasantries before peeling away from the plump woman. Lai Teri’s blunt honesty was appreciated, but sometimes the woman was just downright insidious.

A brown tabby cat greeted her on the porch of the Mayor’s house. Renya bent down on one knee to ruffle the cat underneath his chin. He purred softly. Mimi was his name.

Focus, Renya thought. If she got too caught up with Mimi, Renya would be playing with the cat for hours. Reluctantly, Renya rose to her feet and rapped lightly on the door. Mimi meowed in protest.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “We can play later.”

Renya listened for the sound of footsteps. Nothing.

She knocked harder on the door.

“Anyone there?” she called out.

“Yes, yes,” an irritated voice answered back. The door swung open, and Sujin was in the doorway, with an even crosser look than from before.

“What do you want?” he demanded, leaning against the frame of the door.

She pulled the letter from her sleeve, just as the priestess had done earlier. “It’s for your father.”

Sujin unceremoniously snatched it from her fingers. “Give it here.”

“The priestess said for your father's eyes only.”

“Right.” Sujin smirked, and despite her warning, unfolded the letter and began to read. Color soon rose to his cheeks, and he hastily returned the letter.

She cocked her head. “What was on it?”

“Just give him the stupid letter,” he said dumbly. “And get out.”

“You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s on that letter?”

Sujin pivoted mechanically and strode away, leaving Renya at the door.

“Fine, guess I’ll just welcome myself in.”

The Mayor’s house was sparsely decorated, save a bright tapestry hung above the hearth. She had only been inside the house twice before, and she was in no rush to linger any longer than she needed to.

“Father is in his office with that boy.” Sujin gestured to a flight of stairs at the far end of the room.

On the second floor, the Mayor was seated behind a mahogany desk covered in documents. Qilen stood in front of the desk with his hands clasped behind his back.

The Mayor glanced at the new arrivals, then focused his attention back on Qilen.

“Take a day to get settled in,” the Mayor said warmly. “The priestess should be more than happy to accommodate you with a room.”

Her jaw dropped. The Mayor never spoke to anyone that kindly, not even his own son. From the corner of her eye, she could see Sujin was just as surprised.

Qilen bowed his head slightly. “I thank you for your hospitality. You have a fine village.” He looked back at Sujin with an all-knowing gaze. “And a fine son.”

Sujin met the boy’s gaze with a scowl.

The Mayor chuckled softly. "He's shaping up to be a fine man."

“Mayor,” Renya broke in, bringing the letter up and waving it in front of her. “The priestess told me to deliver this.”

With two fingers, the Mayor beckoned her forward. “Give it here, child,” he demanded softly.

Like father, like son, Renya thought.

She obliged his demand without complaint. He gave the letter a quick scan and smiled.

“Can you do me a favor?” the Mayor asked, but it was clear from his tone that his request was no question. “Show Qilen around the village.”

Renya's jaw hardened.

“He’s come a long way, so show him some Silverleaf hospitality.”

Qilen turned to face her, his youthful face beaming. "I hope we can get along great, friends.”