394 P.D.
Among the clay pots, wooden planters, and blooming hedges that dotted the gardens of Northvale Abbey, a small flurry of energy whisked around and through their myriad plants. The source of this energy, a young human girl barely tall enough to see over the hedges, dashed about until she spotted her destination: a trellis covered in climbing, trumpet-shaped flowers. Ducking and dodging the clerics who were going about their morning duties, she swiftly made her way toward her goal. Like a practiced predator, she remained low and used her environment to make persistent, zig-zagging progress.
Crouching beneath the sprawling branches of a blooming Hawthorn bush, the girl knelt in the soft grass. Here, where the shadow of the hedge had kept the early dew from evaporating, she caught her breath. Looking up, she spied a chance to get away with something she had previously been denied and reached up past the scarlet flowers that nearly matched her long mop of hair. She plucked a handful of tempting red berries from one of the clusters hidden among the leaves, popped a few in her mouth, and sat down to observe her true target. Her vigilance was interrupted however, when she crushed the first of the tart berries between her teeth. Her face wrinkled up at the sour taste and she spat them into the grass beside her. She finally understood why she was never allowed to take them when she was helping in the kitchen: hawberries weren't nearly as tasty as hawberry jam.
The girl refocused herself on her task once she had finally gotten the mealy fruit out of her mouth. Her bright green eyes rapidly scanned the scene and plotted her course from the bush. A spring breeze off the distant inland sea washed over her, it carried the scent of the abbey's orchard and momentarily distracted her. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she made a note to visit the apple trees later. It was still months before they would be ready, but she wanted to scout out the best-looking trees now.
On a low stone bench in front of the trellis, with her back to the mischievous girl, sat the Abbess of Northvale. The dwarf woman was absorbed in her task and her tiny stalker dashed from cover across the empty space between them.
Abbess Brigid Ironbloom's chore this morning was one which she had always used as a meditative way to begin her work day. After morning prayers and breakfast, she liked to tend to the morning glory trellises that lined the abbey's holding. She kept a small basket nearby for the blossoms she would bring back to decorate their altar. Snipping and pruning the sprawling plant, her senses pricked up at the sound of small, rapidly approaching footsteps. Brigid smiled to herself and prepared to act surprised.
The little imp tried to stealthily climb onto the bench beside her, and she decided to give the girl a moment to succeed before she would turn to acknowledge her. Brigid actually was surprised though, when a small hand reached around to her face and slid a flower behind her ear.
"Oh!" She exclaimed enthusiastically. "Has a little fire sprite given me a flower crown this mornin'?" At this, a piercing giggle sounded in her ear when the girl climbed over her and straddled her lap.
"No, I'm just Eya!" The girl beamed at her, proud of her successful sneak attack. Brigid smiled back and brushed a wayward lock of red behind the girl's ear.
"So you are, dear." She fondly patted Eya's face and reached up to the flower in her ear. The little girl began fiddling with one of Brigid's twin brown braids, streaked through with hints of grey, while the Abbess examined her gift. She turned the small, purple, cup-shaped flower over in her hands before returning it behind her ear.
"This is a lovely gift, thank you." The girl shimmied happily in her lap. "Did you know, little one, tha' flowers are a language all their own?" Eya met her eyes, then shook her head and giggled.
"Mama Brigid! Flowers dinnae talk!" Her infectious laughter spilled out into the dwarf, who began laughing with her. Brigid hugged the girl tightly in the warm morning light. Reclining back again, she tugged on the hem of the girl's robe and straightened her collar. Even though she was too young to officially be an acolyte, the brothers and sisters of Northvale had crafted her a set anyway; owing to her seemingly boundless energy and willingness to help out. The robes also helped identify her quickly among the other orphans that lived there; owing to her equally boundless talent for mischief.
"No child, they dinnae talk." Brigid leaned in and lowered her voice as if sharing a secret between just them. "But...they can still say things to us. This flower you have given me is a crocus. Et's the first bloom of spring, so we say tha' et speaks of new beginnings and the start of magical things to come." She gathered the girl's long, red hair, straightened it behind her back, and pinched her cheek gently. Her sharp brown eyes searched Eya's face and found that she was paying close attention. Brigid reached over and pulled the nearby basket closer.
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"And what do you suppose these represent?" Brigid held the collection of morning glory blossoms up for her. Eya pondered the collection of blue, white, and pale purple flowers that matched the colors of their robes for just a moment before her face brightened with recognition.
"Tha's us!" She proudly declared while pointing at the triple-blossom symbols on Brigid's robe.
"Very good!" The dwarf said, genuinely proud of Eya's perceptiveness.
"And what do you think they represent about us?" She pressed the precocious girl further, causing the child to furrow her brow and chew on her lip.
"They open up in the morning...so...they mean we're 'posed to wake up early every day?" Her earnest opinion drew another belly laugh from the aging Abbess.
"My clever little fire sprite, you always keep me on my toes! I suppose they do wake up early each day, but morning glory also tells us about renewal and tenacity. They reopen each morning just as we were the first to be renewed by the Everlight after she lost Sarenrae in the Calamity. Plus, they're hardy little things, tough to keep down; jus' like us." Brigid tucked a hand into her robe and pulled out her holy symbol: three intertwined morning glory blossoms attached to a silvery chain. "The colors of our order even come from them, see?" Eya leaned over and picked through the basket of flowers until she was apparently satisfied.
"This one's you." She held up a small, bluish bloom to Brigid. "And this one's me!" She held up the largest, bright white blossom of the bunch and tucked it behind her own ear with a large, gap-toothed grin. Brigid responded by giggling again and tickling her.
"Oh my, the audacity of this one!" She teased the little girl.
Once the pair had finally settled back down, Eya looked up at her. She scrunched up her face, wrinkling her little nose and pursing her lips.
"I wanna tell a boy to go away, what flower is tha'?" The Abbess matched her serious expression, with a little exaggeration.
"Oh, well, then I would give him a cactus, but they don't grow around here. How about you tell me which boy is bothering you and maybe I can talk tae him instead, okay?" Eya looked down at her hands, her brightness momentarily diminished. Sensing the gravity of what was on the girl's mind, Brigid set the basket back down and held her with both hands.
"Et's Baelan." She said, sullenly. "He said I'm cursed." Brigid's shoulders slumped and she shook her head.
"Ye're not cursed my dear, tha's a terribly mean-spirited thing to say. I will set him straight, ye hear?" Eya nodded but still did not look up. "Why would he say such a thing anyway? Did ye bite him again?" The girl looked back up at her, pouted, and shook her head.
"I only bited him that one time mama! Cause ye said he's not'a 'posed to put his hands on me and- and anyway he started it!" Eya met her abbess's probing gaze then looked down and began fidgeting with the hem of Brigid's robe. "He saw me showing Lila a magic trick. Like how the grown-ups do magic all the time." The girl was forever trying to mimic the healers living at the abbey with her. Even though she was barely big enough to see the tops of the hospital beds, she could always be found glued to some cleric's hip or another. Eyes wide and bright, Eya had a disturbingly precocious lack of fear when it came to injuries and illness. She absorbed everything she saw, no matter how many times they tried to shoo her away. Brigid scoffed and lifted Eya's quivering chin to meet her eyes.
"If that makes ye cursed, then we can all be cursed together." Her brow furrowed again though. "But what magic did you learn already? Ye're quite little for tha'."
"I'm not little, I'm six!" She squeaked back, scowling defiantly once more. Brigid nodded in agreement.
"Of course, dear. I forget sometimes, ye're growing up so fast!" Eya nodded, her temper mollified. She then brought her hands together between them and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper.
"Wanna see my trick mama?" She asked. Brigid nodded eagerly in return. Eya closed her eyes and concentrated while Brigid leaned in close. The dwarf held her breath, her heart wavering between pride and fear with each beat. If any of the children that lived here could channel the Everlight at such a tender age, she was sure it would be this little spitfire. With one final scrunch of her nose, Eya's features relaxed and she opened her tiny hands for the Abbess.
Contained in her palms, a minuscule mote of black flame danced. Its edges licked about with purple fringes as it swayed in the girl's hands.
Brigid gasped and her eyes went wide as her fear won out over her pride in that moment. A terrified frisson streaked up her spine and prickled the hair on her head. She reflexively let go of Eya's waist and brought her hands together over the girl's, enveloping them and snuffing the fire. The girl looked up at her, alarmed.
"Mama?" She quietly asked, searching for reassurance. The terror in Brigid's body quickly gave way to an overwhelming sorrow. She hugged Eya again, tightly this time. She held on so tight that she was briefly afraid she would hurt her little charge but couldn't bring herself to loosen her grip. Her heart hammering in chest and tears welling in her eyes, Brigid kissed the top of her head and began looking around the garden. Her own head swiveled swiftly back and forth, searching for prying eyes while she clutched the child to her.
No one else had seen the 'magic trick', but that fleeting relief collapsed quickly under the weight of reality. It didn't matter, the girl's fate was sealed.
"Mama Brigid?" Eya's voice, muffled and quavering, emerged from the folds of her robe. "Am I cursed?"
Brigid wept.