Legacy of Fire (The Blaze Trilogy - Book #1)

Chapter 1

 My father wakes me up. 

When I open my eyes, he is sitting at the side of my bed, his trembling hands clasped together. He clears his throat, “Good morning, Avalyn.”

I quickly prop myself upright, instantly alert. “Greetings, Father,” I say, respectfully bowing my head.

“Today is important for our family, daughter.” His eyes dart across the floor, as if uncomfortable. “So I have something for you. To wish you good luck.” He extends his arm, and my eye catches the glimmer of gold. “This belonged to your mother.”

I gently cup the delicate necklace in my palm. The pendant is striking – a semicircular sun – and as I run my fingers over it I can feel the perforated edges on one side. It was my mother’s, so to me, it’s priceless. 

It is a kind gesture from my father, as he usually avoids discussion about my mother - or rather, discussion in general. My heart flutters as I fasten the necklace around my neck, letting the gold pendant cool the hollows of my throat. My mother's pendant. 

I begin to form my thanks, the welling emotion making my voice hoarse. Maybe this means he’s finally ready to talk about it - about her - and the thought brings a small, hesitant smile to my face. But as I look up again, my expression falls instantly. My father is gone. 

So much for the tender moment.

I rise out of bed, reaching to undo my braids, and my long hair falls to my waist. Leaning down to my nightstand, I press the small calling button that is tucked under the side. A loud beep follows - I have about two minutes before my servants rush through the door. Walking over to my dressing table, I catch my image in the mirror. But same oval brown eyes blink back at me, unchanged. It certainly doesn’t feel like I’ve just turned eighteen. 

Either way, this girl in the mirror hardly bears a resemblance to the man who was just sitting by her bed. My father, like most people in the South Sector of our city, has fair hair and a strong face, contrasting with my golden bronze hair and fine features.  

My eyes focus on the picture I have wedged into the corner my mirror; an older lady wrapping her arms around a young woman, both of them grinning ear to ear as they press their faces close to the camera. The woman is my mother. I feel that familiar pang when I see how similar we look… no wonder my father finds it difficult to be around me.

My thoughts are interrupted by a loud knock on my door, and I straighten my back. Then, gathering my composure, I swing it open and release a flurry of action into the room. 

My father has been kind enough to send those who I am comfortable around. The girls circle around me, careful to remain respectful, but I’ve known many of them since I was young, and with our familiarity comes the comfort of an unspoken friendship. 

Most of them are younger than myself, averaging about fifteen years. Every one of them is from the West Sector of Aeon, where about three fourths of the city’s population resides. My servants’ families have had the privileged opportunity to send them here, to the South, to work as servants, rather than the Rearing Complex of the East. 

Kenna, the youngest, grasps my hand, staring up at me. “Are you excited, Ava?” Another of my servants, Marta, is three months away from her eighteenth birthday. She glances at me; her eyes are wide with curiosity. And despite their composure, the other girls can’t help their longing looks either. 

I wrap Kenna into a hug, wishing I had her enthusiasm instead of this cold pit of dread that lingers in my gut. But I try to keep my tone light as I smile down at her; “Of course.”

My eyes fix on Rita, our Head Servant, a plump middle-aged woman. She gives me a knowing squeeze. 

“I’m sure Avalyn will tell us all about the Union when it’s over,” she chirps, shooing the other girls towards the closet. “Now ladies, we have work to do. Avalyn has to look absolutely wonderful for her engagement day.”