An era later . . .

Every night, I dream the same dream: a warm, dreary lake, still in its disposition as it basks in smooth grayness. Along the vastness, through the thin fog, a single canoe drifts, decrepit enough that the birch threatens to rot away.

Yet, I stay put, right in the center.

Unknown is my destination.

Aimless is my direction.

But I am not afraid.

Not as the emptiness unfolds.

Not as I am convinced of isolation's certainty.

More than anything, my calmness caresses my fingers, assuring me of the pieces aligning, of the boundless placidity which awaits.

In this endless nothing, I can afford to just be.

That is, until the scene shifts pace, urging me to whistle a new tune.

The cue: a magnificent serpent, colossal in her size as she threatens to swallow whole entire galaxies. But as she breaches the lake's top, water dribbling off her iridescent scales, her demeanor keeps calm. Such kind eyes—pockets of sapphire whose pupils mimic working gears.

My boat freezes before her, and I stand tall.

"What is your name?" she asks.

I answer, "Violet Newcastle."

"Where do you come from?"

"The land of Eridios."

"Are you happy?"

My heart glimmers.

"I am."

Normally, our exchange would end there, but rather than receding back into the deep, the beast remains in place, her gaze piercing the very atoms of my soul.

"Do you know your destiny?" she asks.

I shake my head.

Her message drops like a gentle lightning bolt.

"You will."

* * *

Tweet!

Tweet!

In the distance, the blue jays sang their song, their notes harmonious as they swirled smoothly into my eardrums.

Before long, my consciousness flickered to life, and I parted my leaden eyelids to set my sights on a ceiling of oak.

Morning already?

Apparently so, for from the open back window, a soothing sky of blue greeted me, accompanied by the sun's mild rays soaking into the room.

My fatigue merciless, I sat myself off, brushing my futon's cover off my torso. I then glanced around, finding only myself in this neat, modest bedroom. Simple dressers pressed themselves against the walls of bamboo, beneath various pieces of artwork and calligraphy.

Beside me lay another futon, only this one had already been folded nicely.

At the implication, my joy bloomed, and dressed in my loose pajamas, I rose to my feet to amble to the exit. With every step, the warmth of the wooden floorboards poured into my toes.

Out in the hallway, thin doors stood in rows on either side, each begging to be slid open.

I already knew the right one.

My feet carried me towards the back, where I pulled open the smooth panel of wood. Past it lay the many wondrous artworks of Mother Nature.

I now stood at the edge of a spacious veranda, the floor polished and the overhang generous.

Beyond it, a collection of modest cherry blossom trees gathered across the fields of luscious grass, their petals swaying ever so gently in the loving zephyr. Further back, a sea of typical oak and birch towers spread. And at the furthest point, seemingly at the universe's edge, a gargantuan mountain watched over the lands.

But I paid the scenery little mind, my focus pinned, instead, to the small table placed at the veranda's center. There, an elderly man sat with crossed legs, admiring the view as the breeze kissed his lightly wrinkled skin. Despite his apparent age—his trimmed gray beard and shortened gray hair—he harbored a sturdy build. Fit and flexible.

In his hand lay a cup of steaming tea, with the pot and another cup resting on the table.

Despite his seemingly solid focus, the man quickly noticed my arrival, his lips curving into a warm smile.

"If it isn't Ultra Violet," he said. "Glad you could stop by."

I matched the expression. "Good morning, Grandpa."

I then took a seat across the table, prompting him to pour me a cup.

"I've got a good one for ya today," he said excitedly. "Blue lavender."

My nostrils savored the aroma—earthy, yet a tad mild.

I took a sip, and my taste buds immediately glimmered with glee.

"It's good," I said softly.

Grandpa kept his grin. "Right?"

The two of us soon dipped into our own world, our hearts absorbed by the beautiful everything.

"Looks like today's gonna be another hit," Grandpa said, admiring the clear cerulean sky. To me: "Are ya ready?"

I nodded. "Mm."

* * *

We strolled along the path of compacted dirt, at ease as the jovialness of our village buzzed around us. Across the ground of earth and grass, huts of wood and bamboo lined themselves in orderly fashion. From them emerged individuals of all shapes and sizes, from adults heading to their assignments to children zooming like animals.

Grandpa cherished the sight.

"Another peaceful day in Old Grove," he said. "At this rate, I'll hafta forget what adrenaline feels like!"

"Isn't that a good thing?" I wondered.

"Ya only get one life, Violet. Ya gotta make the most of it!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you splurged on those new tools, even though Miss Rosa already has some?"

"But of course!" Grandpa held his chin high. "Her hoes are about to snap from one whack! Ya can't work like that! Besides, I've heard what they've got in Phoenixton is top of the line. Ya can't say yer not the least bit curious about what that entails."

"I think I can, actually."

"Just watch: When we pick up the package, yer tune will change in a jiffy. Yer jaw'll be hanging so low, you'll taste dirt!"

Whatever helps you sleep at night.

As we walked, a number of people happily greeted us.

"Good morning, Tengen! Violet!"

"Mornin', Tengen! Miss Violet!"

Like always, Grandpa would explode with the reply, his vocal cords booming and his grin bright.

I, on the other hand, would merely smile and wave, my anxiety vibrating with each fresh face.

I don't know how you do it, Grandpa. One "Hi" and I'm done for the day.

At times like these, I wondered if I was actually even from Old Grove. Practically everybody sported hair as dark as coal and irises rivaling either pristine diamonds or precious emeralds.

But I was the leaf turned blue, not green, my hair shaded like steel as my eyes glimmered with the purest of bronzes. For the former, the left side took the shape of a slim braided ponytail. At the very least, I shared the same complexion as everyone; or so, I thought, until summer rolled around and everyone else darkened to the shade of oat cookies. I, meanwhile, stayed as fair as cream.

A sigh would occasionally slip from my lips.

At this point, I may as well be an alien.

Eventually, Grandpa and I arrived at the post office. Or rather, the candy shop working double as the post office. Not a lot of room to construct buildings all willy nilly, so we had to go for a lot of two-for-one deals.

Inside, lengthy shelves aligned themselves along the rigid floorboards, filled with various tasty treats. Towards the back stretched the counter, where a mountainous, bubble-shaped man tossed us his attention.

"Tengen! Violet!" he cheered.

Grandpa beamed. "Nashigi! How goes things?"

Unexpectedly, Mr. Docket frowned. "Absolutely horrible! Mittens has been getting into our ingredients back at the house lately. Every carrot has a paw print on it."

"I'd take that as a compliment," Grandpa said. "You and the missus always make the most amazing meals. You should be flattered!"

"You say that until you find a piece of hair in your broth. But now I'm just venting. What can I do for you?"

"You wouldn't have happened to receive a package from Phoenixton, would ya?"

Mr. Docket smiled beneath his bushy mustache. "As a matter of fact, I did. Came in about two hours ago with your name right across it. Let me grab it for you."

The shopkeeper receded into the backroom.

"See anything ya like, Violet?" Grandpa asked me. "I'd be more than happy to spoil my favorite granddaughter."

"Grandpa," I replied, "I'm your only granddaughter."

"More of a reason to get ya all the chocolate you can shovel!" He pointed to the merchandise behind the counter. "That's where the premium stuff is. You can't skimp on this stuff!"

I chuckled.

I wonder if I'll get that weird when I'm older. Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.

But as I scanned the candy shop, I found not a delectable sweet to crave but the blue sorrow of a tiny girl a little ways away. She frowned deeply, staring at the candy bar in her hand.

Without saying a word, I approached, and when I reached, I crouched down and smiled.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I want to get Mommy some chocolate," the girl said, "but I don't have enough." In her other hand were three copper coins. "She always does so much for me, so I want to do something for her."

"Is that right?"

The girl's sadness glossed over my heartstrings, urging my body to move on its own, and without a second thought, I reached into my own pocket to fish out eight copper pieces.

I handed them to her.

"Those are four coins each, no?" I asked. "Get yourself two. One for your mom"—I kindly stroked her hair—"and one for you, since you're being such a good girl."

The little one gazed at me with a hung jaw, her awe dazzling. Then, with the utmost sincerity did she lunge forth to wrap her arms lovingly around me.

"Thank you, Big Sis!" she sang. "Thank you! Thank you!"

My cheeks went rosy. "You're very welcome."

The elder watched from the corner of his eye, proud.

"Ultra Violet strikes again."

* * *

After finishing our business at the post office, we headed over to Old Grove's central building, where the miles of farmland yearned for our attention. During the rest of our walk, Grandpa practically salivated over his purchase.

"Look 'ere, Violet!" he'd say, flaunting a tool. "Look how clean the metal is!"

"Yes, Grandpa. It looks nice."

I giggled.

It's like watching a little kid with a new toy.

Once at the main building—a large, domed structure with a tidy interior—we made our way to a clipboard pinned to one of the walls. There, we found out the sections we'd be tending to for the day.

Grandpa grinned. "As the young'uns say: 'Let's get this bread!'"

I'm not sure about that one.

Regardless, we went straight to work, spending the whole of the day tending to the crops. With each hour, the rays of the sun grew more fierce, and I felt like a baked flower as my sweat drenched my work attire.

Luckily, despite the grueling weariness the job hammered into us, Grandpa's excitement somehow energized me, along with the rest of the workers. He worked with ten times the typical vigor, causing the rest of us to chuckle at his goofy motions.

Before I knew it, the blue of the above morphed to a smooth orange, and the sun started to kiss the horizon. We finished up our assignments and began our trip back to the house.

"What a good day's work," my grandfather said. He clutched his tools close, proud of the dirt they had already accumulated. "These puppies handle like a dream. I'll hafta let ya try 'em out tomorrow, Violet."

"Looking forward to it, Grandpa."

Although, I don't think I'll be moving quite as . . . hyperly.

It didn't take long for the mood to shift, however, our bliss fading as we spotted a small crowd gather near the village's front gate.

Grandpa raised an eyebrow. "What do we have here?"

Curious, we joined our people.

Two parties claimed the spotlight: Old Grove's chief—Mr. Tashigi—and a trio of knights. For the latter, they flaunted sleek iron armor, their swords holstered as symbols of the Phoenix marked their chests.

They're from the Ember Empire.

"Make no mistake," the central knight said, "we take no pleasure in this decision. But the cost of survival grows higher and higher with each passing day."

"Which means we should be left to perish!?" a woman barked.

"Nonsense!" a man hissed.

Mr. Tashigi raised his frail hand, and despite being a rather tiny aged man, his demand for silence was met swiftly.

"I understand the argument," he told the visitors. "However, to double the price of the incense—isn't that quite the jump? Perhaps we could lower it to a cost more reasonable—say, fifty percent?"

"The Empress's orders are absolute," the knight said, flat-lipped. "If she demands your liver, then you will provide such."

"And if we reject her?"

The knight's eyes darkened. "Then you will be removed from the Empire effective immediately. You will be forced to deal with the dreads on your own."

Like a poison, fear coursed steadily through the mass.

"We will be back in three days for the payment. Either have it ready by then or accept your excommunication."

Nothing more to say, the Empire's representatives made themselves scarce, leaving the people of Old Grove to their worries.

"How will we afford that?"

"We could make our own incense."

"You fool! We're not equipped for that kind of craft!"

Before the murmurs could spread, Mr. Tashigi barked, "Move along! There's nothing else to see!"

Obeying, the crowd dispersed, with the chief himself stomping away, his brow furrowed enough that his veins bulged.

"Come on, Violet," Grandpa said, stepping away. "Let's head home."

* * *

Later that night, Grandpa and I enjoyed dinner in our living room, indulging in our bowls of fresh rice and fish.

"Is it good?" he asked me.

My lips curved sweetly. "Mm!"

"Happy to hear it. I was worried about adding a few new spices, but it looks like I had nothing to fear."

I chewed with glee.

But rather than joining my vibe, Grandpa stayed stoic, lost in his garden of thoughts. He had barely touched his own portion.

"Say, Violet," he said, "mind if we chat for a bit?"

I stopped chewing.

"What is it?" I asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course, of course. Didn't mean to start scarin' ya. Just wanted a penny for yer thoughts is all." He paused to consider his next words. "Have you ever thought about yer future, Violet?"

"My future?"

Grandpa nodded. "Yer one of the brightest kids I've ever known, and I'm not just saying that 'cause yer my granddaughter. You have so much potential that I often find myself lost in the possibilities." He sighed. "But I don't think you can grow much more in Old Grove."

I nearly dropped my chopsticks. "Huh . . . ?"

Seeing my unease, Grandpa clarified.

"Again," he said, "didn't mean to scare ya. It's not like I'm bootin' ya to the streets or anythin'. I just want what's best for ya, and quite frankly, you'll only end up wasting yer years here, Violet. You don't deserve to be just a farmer. As cliché as it sounds, you deserve the world. But in order to grab that world, ya have to learn about it first."

What's he talking about? "The world"? Old Grove is all I've ever known. It's all I'd ever like to know.

"I have the funds, ya know," Grandpa said, "if you've ever thought about studying abroad. We could send ya to the best school in Phoenixton. We could also—"

He stopped, spotting the glassiness growing in my eyes, even though I tried my best to wipe them.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. "It just sounds like . . . you don't want me around. But I love this place so much. It's my home."

Most people would call me moronic—a sixteen-year-old crying over mere syllables.

But my most cherished understood.

"I should be the one saying sorry," he said warmly. "I brought this topic up so suddenly. I love having ya around, my dear. Everyone does. I just don't want ya to regret missing these opportunities. But at the end of the day, what matters the most is whether or not yer happy. That's all your grandpa would ever want. And if being happy to ya means staying in Old Grove, then I will gladly support ya."

You say that, but now I think I'll only disappoint you by staying here.

Once more, I wiped my eyes, before lifting myself up.

"May I be excused?"

"Of course," Grandpa said. "Have a good night, dear."

I hurried off to my futon.

Tengen watched his most cherished disappear from sight, and he sighed

"Sixty-five years on this planet and yer still as smooth as a rock," he chastised. "Learn to be quiet, would ya, Tengen?"

He started to clear the dining table, right as a series of hefty thumps broke loose from the front door.

A raised eyebrow. "Who's causing a ruckus at this hour?"

He ambled to the entrance, and upon opening the door did he cross paths with his fellow villager—a middle-aged man dressed in loose clothing. Sweat raced down his forehead as he panted wildly.

"Hmm?" Tengen said. "Menma, is that you?"

"T-Tengen . . ." the man gasped. "Th-Thank goodness . . . ! I need your help!"

"Is this about that card game? For the last time, I'm not showing you—"

"It's my son! He was attacked by dreads!" Panic and fear devoured the visitor's visage. "He's bleeding out, Tengen! Please!"

Quickly, Violet's grandfather grasped the gravity of the situation, and with steady movements, he marched back into his home to retrieve a sizable leather pouch.

He then met back with Menma outside, closing the door behind him.

"Lead the way," Tengen urged.

The visitor did just that, with the two jogging through the roads of Old Grove. Across the village, an aroma both earthy and ink-like swirled through the air, accompanied with trails of thin but visible smoke.

"What happened?" Tengen asked.

"My foolish son," Menma spat. "He snuck into the forest earlier; something about wanting to relax in the open. Wanted to do it at night so we wouldn't notice, even though we've warned him so many times how dangerous the outside was. Luckily, I caught him before he got too far out, but then a dread found us and . . ."

The man went quiet, letting the bloodstains on his clothes speak for him.

"How bad?" Tengen asked. "Any missing limbs?"

"No," Menma said. "Just cuts. But very deep. I'd never seen so much blood . . ."

Violet's grandfather picked up the pace.

They soon arrived at Menma's home, and he led Tengen inside into the living room. There, a teenage boy lay languidly on the floor, his consciousness flickering as nasty gashes across his body poured scarlet.

Beside him, a woman pressed cloth desperately against the boy's wounds.

"Larissa," Menma said, "how is he?"

Larissa shook her head, teary-eyed. "He won't stop bleeding."

Understanding the situation right then and there, Violet's grandfather wasted no time getting to work. He approached the injured, then crouched down to fish out of his pouch the items needed to begin stitching up the boy's wounds.

"Aren't you . . . ?" Larissa began.

"It'll be okay, dear," Menma assured her. "Tengen knows what he's doing."

"Wouldn't have made it past the Crimson Force otherwise," Violet's grandfather said. His eyes narrowed with focus as he perfected each of his movements.

"The Crimson Force?" Larissa repeated. "But aren't those just soldiers?"

"Soldiers trained to do everything. The philosophy was to always expect to be on your own out there. Of course, I'm not as good as Dr. Keplin, but I think I can manage this."

And manage, Tengen did, for after an hour or so of makeshift surgery, the boy's bleeding finally halted, his condition already beginning to look hopeful.

"He's gonna be out for a while," Tengen told the couple. "Body needs to stabilize from the shock. But for the most part, he'll be all right." A grin. "You're more than welcome to scold him when he comes to."

Larissa caressed her son's arm, her tears plentiful.

"You fool . . ." she whispered. "You absolute fool."

Still, she couldn't wait to make him a warm meal.

Menma turned to Tengen and bowed. "Thank you, Tengen. I don't know how I could ever repay you."

Violet's grandfather raised his hand. "No need. We're feathers of the same flock—Old Grovians. We look after each other." He grimaced. "Besides, with the Empire more or less apparently leaving us in the dust, we'll need each other now more than ever."

They all glowered, already imagining the grim reality set before them.

* * *

I lay in the darkness of my room, still alone as Grandpa continued his night out.

No matter which way my mind bent, I couldn't shake off what we had talked about.

I love Old Grove. Here, even if I am the odd little duckling, I still feel like I belong.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I'd be lying if I said I didn't wonder what was beyond our walls. Grandpa never let me hunt or anything like that, so I've only ever known this life.

The trajectory of my destiny—I already know it clear as day.

But what if I could change the angle?

What if I could see with my own eyes what really is out there?

Little did I know I'd be getting such a wish.