Breakfast the next morning was the gloomiest it had ever been. Which was in contrast to the sun shining brightly outside. Brytha told him to wear his white tunic, with a black belt that she helped him put on. Hers was too short for her, and for once she didn't seem to care. Everyone at the table wore white, even Ada who looked from one grim face to the other, a confused frown as she pulled at Felie and then Brytha's sleeve. Felie shoved her away, leaning back on her chair and her eyes on the ceiling while Brytha simply hushed her.

There were platefuls of bread and jam on the table, and a big steaming bowl of oatmeal ready to be served. But no one except Ada had served themselves. Aldeim, Nikolas swallowed, his father had a plate filled next to him, on an empty seat that was supposed to be Richan's. The plate was filled and carefully arranged with Richan's favorites and it stood out next to Aldeim's empty plate. The empty chair itself stood out next to their filled ones. But it would always be Richan's now… And everyone was looking at it occasionally, it was there, looming like a snowlion's shadow. No one wanted to talk about it, no one except Ada.

"Where's Richan?" she said softly, and then when no one answered, "Where. Is. Richan?"

Richan was seated near enough to Aldeim to see him shudder, but a smile was on his face when he said to Ada, "Richan… Richan will see us later."

His clothing was immaculate, and the belt he wore was embossed with a hunting scene. It was from one of Richan's favorite stories, Nikolas knew. The belt was a dark, dark brown, made from the pelt of a gryphon, and it was said that people couldn't lie in its presence. That was the story Richan had liked, it was a hunter shooting down the gryphon to present it as a wedding gift to the Tsarina to be. Only she had been unfaithful, and the belt that he'd given her had strangled her while she sat on her gilded throne. Nikolas had remembered the story because he didn't like it. The pale blue face of the strangled Tsarina on the pages looked too real to him, and the blood-red tears streaming down her eyes as she wept blood and guilt. It had kept him up for nights and nights until Richan promised that he wouldn't ask for the story to be read again.

Nikolas didn't know that his father had a belt of the story, and he swallowed, thinking of the conversation Brytha had with his father last night. No, Aldeim wore the belt because it reminded him of Richan and Richan loved… no had loved the story so this was why Aldeim was wearing the belt. He sniffed, and bit his lip. The last thing he wanted was to be scolded and sent back to his room

No one liked a crier, especially not on this occasion. And he wasn't even the youngest, they would expect Ada or Felie to cry but not him. He took in a breath and looked around the room. The twins were in white as well, and they weren't whispering with each other, instead Diasa was fiddling with the napkin on her lap while Guigo was pulling at a thread on his sleeve and winding it around and around his fingers. Next to them was Viola and Sanna, who were talking to each other, but in hushed voices. The only one of the trio that didn't talk was Lianne, who held a hand occasionally to her forehead.

"But where is Richan?" Ada said plaintively, "Did he go to his party without us?"

"No," Aldeim said softly, so softly only Nikolas could hear. Then he said it louder, "He hadn't gone to any party Ada." Then he stood up, and strode towards the door to the dining room. "Diase, where are you?" he shouted and they all jumped.

When there was no answer he took a step back, taking in a deep steadying breath and holding the frame of the door.

"Father?" said Brytha, getting to her feet.

"Father?" said Nikolas.

"If she's not coming, we will eat without her," Aldeim said with some finality. He made his way over to Ada and carefully picked her up, "Why don't you sit with me, Ada?"

Felie didn't protest when Ada was taken to Aladeim's seat, which was odd, but she was still staring at the ceiling, refusing to look at anyone. Maybe she was mad that Richan… Nikolas let out a breath. He didn't know what Brytha or his father or Warada told her. Maybe she tried to use magic and realized what Jozin and Surio told him. Sometimes witches or wizards stumble into things by accident. Or… Nikolas dared to hope, maybe Felie saw Richan, maybe her magic allowed her to see Richan. He had to ask her, he had to know if she did see Richan. Did Richan, will Richan return as a familiar? It was Richan that met a witch and was offered an adventure, and Richan should have an adventure it was unfair that he—

"Good morning."

Everyone was wearing white except his mother who came through the door in her usual Voevoda uniform. There were lines under her face, and black circles, but she sat down as if nothing was wrong. Her uniform was even as crisp as ever, as if she'd ironed all the pieces herself. Nikolas didn't look but he knew that if he did, he would find her boots to be as shiny as well, each buckle as shiny as the next. But even he knew it was wrong. She was supposed to wear white. Or gold, but gold was for the courts and the palaces and the Tsaritsa or when she was crowned, the Tsarina's personal family. Why couldn't she wear white like everyone was? Why couldn't she do what everyone else was doing? Why did they have to play along while she was the one making all the rules, all the time?

"Ada, please go back to your place," Diase said firmly.

Aldeim ignored her. His brows were furrowed as he took a piece of bread, buttered it and held it out to Ada. It was normally her favorite but this time she shook her head and refused to eat it. It was so strange that Nikolas sat upright. Ada never rejected anything, especially when it was buttered.

"Aldeim, you know how—"

Brytha quickly swooped in to take Ada away from Aldeim as his father slowly rose to his feet to stare at his mother.

"Are you out of your mind?" Aldeim said, and his voice was cutting. He was as tall as Diase but now he towered over her in fury. "What possessed you to gallivant in that uniform?"

"We should go," said Brytha, "Please, all of you, please follow me."

There was a tinge of desperation in her voice, and she motioned for Nikolas to help her, and gestured to Felie who hadn't stirred from her chair. He pushed past Viola and Sanna who was shaking Lianne to walk over to his sister.

"Felie?" he said, shaking her shoulder gently, "Felie we have to go, I can carry you up—"

He froze. Felie, no matter the weather, always had a rosey look to her face. She should have been called Rose, his father had joked once, pinching Felie's cheek and making her giggle. But she was an ashen pale color, and when Nikolas tentatively touched her, she was colder than a snow fall.

"I don't feel good," Felie muttered, rubbing her head. Her eyes were half closed, "It hurts."

"Felie?" he whispered again, reaching for her hand, and frantically trying to warm it. Aldeim had done it when they had gone to the valley in the winter. He'd rubbed and rubbed Nikolas's cold hands to warm them up, and then made honeyed milk. But as much as Nikolas tried to warm her, it did nothing, his sister was as cold as ice. He turned around to cry for help, to tell his parents that this was the wrong time to be shouting, that there was something wrong with Felie, she was so cold, and why was she so cold? But no one came to his aid.

Many things happened at once, Felie began to fall and Nikolas threw himself forward to catch her. Brytha started to scream, followed by Sanna and Viola. There were the sounds of chairs scraping against the floor and thuds as things were being thrown about and the sounds of rattling, gasping breaths.

"She's not breathing!" Brytha was shouting, frightened and her eyes were wider than Nikolas had ever seen them, staring at the way Ada lay limply in her arms.

Then he heard his father's voice, shouting, "Ada! Ada!" He took Ada from Brytha's arms and placed her on the floor, and tapping at her chest rhythmically.

But Ada wasn't the only one who needed help either. "Lianne!" Sanna and Viola screamed, "Lianne, Lianne!"

Lianne was between the two of them, and she was exactly like Felie, cold and unresponsive and Brytha pushed the two of them aside to replicate what Aldeim was doing. He didn't look at his mother because he knew that she was just standing there, like she always did when anyone asked her for help. So it was just him, glancing frantically around the room for help, struggling to hold Felie who had fallen from her feet, frightened and dazed.

"Nikolas, step back," when Nikolas didn't respond, Diase said louder, "Step back Nikolas!" He refused to let go of Felie, and his pushed him aside, cradling Felie to her chest all the while shouting her name. His sister's head lolled to the side like a rag doll, her eyes were closed and her face grey, "Felie!"

It was so loud he held both hands to his head. He was on his knees, scrambling away, running to any corner that wasn't echoing with people screaming. It was as if he was even more of a stranger in his own household as everyone went mad. Everyone that is, except the twins who watched everything unfold with that same shared understanding that he was not privy to. Then Diase broke away from Guigo to walk towards him.

"I'm glad it wasn't you," she said softly, pulling him into a hug.

He hugged back, and then felt Guigo joining them in the embrace. But she was wrong, he knew. It was Richan everyone loved. He caught a look of his father's face as he peeked between the arms of the twins. There was a wild grief there, wilder than when Richan had... when Richan was gone. It should have been me, Nikolas thought, frightened at the look in those eyes as Aldeim frantically tried to breathe life into Ada's chest. It should have been me, I'm the useless one in the family. I'm the talentless one and Richan was supposed to get married, and supposed to have a life, and Lianne had such talent for music and Felie was supposed to be the magic one and Ada... Ada didn't even live yet!

It was a horrible, horrible feeling and all he could think as he sat there, drowning in the overwhelming tide of grief and sorrow were the words of the old Voevada. He didn't think much of it but now it sounded ominous and cold and exactly like the lines on her face, inevitable.

'So it begins.'

Was this all he was going to feel? Just... a drowning, sinking feeling? Just nothing? He tasted salt, felt his breath heaving in his chest as if a thousand anchors were trying to pull him under.

Then as if from a very far away place he heard the voice of the Masteritsa and it said, as if singing a soothing lullaby, 'You are always welcomed to find your feet again in Skapina.'