Page 1 of Unravelled
Prologue
Eons ago, we fled the chains, across a sea vast and silent, where stars stretched endlessly, watching as we sailed into the unknown.
Storms rose to meet us, waves crashed with fury, but our Navigators held the course, their hands steady, their eyes unyielding.
Bharas led us to the water with unshaken resolve, his gaze steady, though the stars wept for him. His heart aflame in the darkness, burning with the weight of all he left behind.
Kharad whispered, and they forgot their fear, His voice laced with echoes older than oceans He turned wrath with a silver tongue, Guiding the many with silver words and steel.
Drala’s hands moved through the unseen, plucking fate with no knowing touch. She chose the paths of all who sailed, unaware of the weight she wove into each thread.
Lyren was the price the sea demanded, dragged down by fate's cold, closing hand. He drowned so others might be spared, His name now sung beneath the waves.
And Myrran, gentle with a thousand stars, heard futures the world would never hold. She walked the wind with unseen grief, a dreamer burdened by what might have been.
When they passed beyond the veil, they left us gifts shaped in sorrow. Bound in blood, carried by whispers, their power waits in those who listen.
We give them our faith in silence and fire, our children born beneath their names. We carve their memory into stone, and live within the echoes of their sacrifice.
???
Eleven years before.
The wind was warm, and sunlight streamed through the leaves of the tahla tree. Though the summer was drawing to a close, the bees still hummed, lured by the sweet scent of flowers twining around the tree’s hanging vines.
The tahla tree, one of the few trees to bloom in the peak of summer, offered more than just beauty. Its bark was perfect for climbing, small knots of wood jutted out at odd angles before giving way to a cascade of branches and green-blue leaves. The tendrils of leaves hung low, creating an ideal hiding spot from parents and caregivers.
A young girl stood at the base of the tree, her gaze calculating as she studied the tree trunk. A stray wisp of her auburn hair fell across her face, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she searched for the perfect knot to start her climb.
Her father had warned her not to wander too far that morning, but the looming lessons in etiquette, history, and, worst of all, ballroom dancing had driven her out here. The dance lessons had started when she turned twelve and she detested every moment, especially since her older brother was her dance partner.
The second her morning chores were done, she had darted through the palace hallways, escaping into the gardens. She was quick, easily outrunning her brother and disappearing past the hedges.
Her eyes landed on a large knot, just out of reach. She leapt and caught it with ease, her fingers gripping tightly. A perfect ledge sat just a few knots higher. Climbing with practiced skill, she ignored the sound of her dress snagging on the rough bark.
The rip did not matter to her either. Even as she reached the perch high enough to risk a broken arm or leg if she fell, she felt only exhilaration. A broken leg would mean no dancing for a while, but it would also mean no gardens.
She closed her eyes, taking in the summer. The sweet smell of tahla flowers mixed with the heat of the day. She knew this would be one of her last opportunities to be part of the garden. Beginning next year, they would expect her to admire the garden, not climb in it.
A shout broke her thoughts, distant but growing closer. She poked her head above the canopy of leaves. The gardens surrounded the palace on three sides. She could see the hedge maze that filled most of the back gardens, the fountains of the Navigators, the lawn where the Queen and her Crowned Betrothed held balls. A shrill voice carried clearly through the air, laced with annoyance.
“Boys! Missing another appointment with your tutor will disappoint me! Return at once! Do not make me search all day again!”
By the edge of the royal gardens, a woman moved hurriedly among the hedge maze and bushes, her apron smudged with dirt and leaves.
The girl’s ears caught hushed whispers below her. Two boys, only thirteen years old or so, huddled together at the base of the tree, half-hidden by its trunk. They looked like brothers. Their dark hair and noble attire marked them as children of the court. She glanced at her own dress, made of the same silk and gold trim.
“What do we do now, idiot?” one boy hissed. “We can’t keep hiding in the same spot every time!”.
“I’m thinking, okay?” the other snapped back. “She’s better at finding us than the last babysitter.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. They were like her, fleeing their lessons and courtly duties. The woman steadily advanced, her eyes scanning every shrub and tree as she glanced back. Mira sank below the canopy. Watching the boys fight, she thought it wouldn't be too bad having friends to hide away with.
“Hey,” the girl whispered. “Up here.”
Both boys froze before looking up at her, their eyes wide with surprise.
“How did you get up there?” the shorter one asked.
