Page 2 of When the Moon Met the Sun

The sound of Father’s voice grounds me to the moment, a constant string of curses flying from his mouth as he stands over Mother. I watch as Father raises his hand in an attempt to strike Mother again. She’s kneeling now, begging him notto hurt me. A wave of sadness overcomes me, then anger.

With a cry, I use my wings to boost me, to be able to run fast enough to get in between the two of them before Father can strike again.

“No!” I yell, then throw myself into my Mother’s arms, trying to shield her body with my own, like she had done for me so many times.

Except this time, when my hands make contact with her skin, there’s a flash of blue.

Then she lets out a gut wrenching scream of pain.

Assuming the scream is from the pain of Father hitting her, I hold on tighter, trying to provide her with even an ounce of comfort.

Suddenly, I’m yanked backwards, off of Mother, by strong hands—Father’s hands. I squirm, screaming for Mother, but for some reason, she’s crumpled on the ground, not moving.

This only causes me to panic more, but for a reason I can’t place, I realize I’m suddenly extremely tired.

The fight dies out of me, and I stand with Father holding me by the shoulders as we both stare down at my mother’s unmoving form.

I listen, as if from a distance to my father’s voice, devoid of all emotion, say, “You did this to her, Aviva. This is allyourfault.”

I don’t see Mother again after that day.

Chapter One

“Come on, Aviva, pick up the sword.”

I peered out across the large, cobbled terrace I stood on, watching as dark clouds began gathering to the north. Spring had just begun, but apparently the sky here wasn’t aware, as it was ready to continue dropping fresh snow on top of the ice still coating the ground from the storm last week.

I took in a deep breath of fresh mountain air, trying to soak in the rare opportunity to enjoy the outdoors without a downpour of some sort.

As I basked in the sun’s unforgiving rays, I leaned down to pick up the sword mylovelytwin brother had tossed at my feet moments before, like he’d instructed.

“Good. Now remember your stance, and then…” I barely had time to get myself into position before he leapt forward, knocking the sword from my hands—for the third time in a row—in one swift motion.

“I surrender,” I groaned before lowering myself to the ground, splaying my wings out on the stone behind me. In the North, wings touching the ground was generally not allowed, especially as royalty, and supposedly reflected poor character—but when it was just me and Dimitri, neither one of us cared all that much. Ialso didn’t care in the moment that my gown would likely become filthy so soon before dinner. “You know swords aren’t my specialty, Dimitri. Now, add some daggers into the mix, and then we can have some real fun.” I grinned up at my brother, hoping he wasn’t too disappointed in my easy defeat today.

Any day Dimitri had to spare, he insisted on dragging me to this terrace to train with me or practice a new maneuver he learned—as though he hadn’t trained me enough in our nineteen years of life together.

He shook his head, sighing, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You might be in a position one day where you won’t have your daggers, Viva. You’re more likely to find a discarded sword on the battlefield, rather than a dagger. I just want you to be prepared for anything.”

I wondered to myself what the point was, since females weren’t even permitted in our father’s army, but decided to keep that thought to myself.

He walked over to where I sat and took up a spot next to me, bumping my shoulder with his affectionately. “I will have to take you up on the offer to fight you on your terms, though. Maybe it’ll help convince me you’re not completely hopeless after all.” He said it as a joke, but to me, I knew there was a layer of truth to it.

Being the cast-aside princess of a kingdom at war wasn’t the easiest role to play. It wasn’t a role at all, really. Our father resented me, although I couldn’t know for sure why due to the fragmented memories that made up my early childhood. From what I gathered, I believed it was due to the fact that I was born fortunate enough to be able to wield all five northern zirilium, while Father’s only son, Dimitri, couldn’t wield any. What Dimitri lacked in wielding, though, he made up for in swordsmanship. He never needed to be able to wield ice or lightning, water or air, or even the weather.

Although, it wasn't like Dimitri knew I could wield anything, let alone all five Northern zirilium. He didn’t know why Father treated me the way he did. In the eyes of my brother, we were both powerless, so we should be on equal ground, right?

Due to Father resenting me for things I couldn’t control, he preferred to keep me out of the public’s eye. I rarely got permission to leave the castle grounds, but I still snuck into the city often enough to be recognized by the townspeople if I wasn’t careful. As Dimitri and I got older, though, he’d been able to sway Father more and more into giving me more freedom. Though it was likely just to please Dimitri, more than anything. I treasured those precious memories, especially on days like today. One time, he convinced Father to allow me to accompany him to The Thousand Stars Festival some years ago, seeing as it only happens once a decade. Father had told us once how much Mother had loved the festival—one of the only positive memories he ever shared about her—and I had been set on going ever since. The night of the festival, Dimitri and I shared a floating lantern, as we shared everything, and wrote as many anxieties and fears on it as we could. So many, in fact, I was surprised it was still able to float while carrying the weight of our burdens—but float it did. And though my problems didn’t disappear that night, for just a moment, I had felt lighter.

“I don’t want to go to Father’s dinner this evening. Can’t you make up an excuse to get us both out of it? We could sneak into the city instead,” I suggested to my brother, trying not to sound too desperate. I’d do almost anything to avoid such an uncomfortable night. Not only was it a dinner with Father and his advisors, there would also be an ambassador from the South there. The news about the ambassador had come as a surprise to us all. The North and the South of Inphis, our continent, had been fighting since long before I was born. Though, if the rumors were true, there was a new king in the South. Rumor has it he was looking to find peace with us, instead of war. I imagined I was only invited to dinner toplay the part of the pretty, obedient princess, but even then, if I could avoid the whole ordeal, I would.

Not only that, but I also wasn’t sure I wanted to be anywhere near a Southerner. The thought of sitting at the same table with somebody who has likely committed war crimes against my people made my stomach turn sour.

“Please,” I said, turning to face him. “I hate having to put on such a facade for Father’s diplomatic purposes. I doubt I’ll even talk to anybody the whole night if I were to go. Nobody would miss me if I weren’t there, and we both know it.”

Dimitri sighed, running a hand through his snow-white hair, the color matching mine perfectly. A Heartshire family trait that had been passed down from our late grandparents, and their parents before them. “I’m sorry, Viva, I can’t this time. Father specifically requested your presence for tonight. Aurora will be here any moment to help you get ready.” He looked at me with a gleam in his eyes I couldn’t quite place, which was unusual for us. Usually, I could read him like an open book.

I should have been excited at the news that my best friend would arrive soon. That was what Ishouldhave focused on. Yet all I could focus on was the fact that Father actuallywantedme there tonight, along with the unsettling look Dimitri had in his eyes.

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