"You're lively as always, I see," Miya said with a soft smile, patting Zhiyi gently on the head. She shared the same deep purple hair and sharp blue eyes as her daughters. Her frame was slender, her complexion pale. Years of peace had made her weaker than she once was, and the scars of war had stolen much of her youth. Though she was only in her early forties, she looked far older. Still, there was a grace about her beauty, a quiet strength that made it clear where her daughters had inherited their looks. Aroha had yet to grow into hers.
"I hope you're not teasing your sister again," Miya added, though she already knew the answer.
"I just wanted to keep her company, that's all," Zhiyi said with a grin. Her smile had a way of lighting up the room, making it hard to stay upset with her for long.
Their home stood apart from the rest of the village, surrounded by trees and silence. Their father, Gero, had insisted on that. He believed solitude suited their family, and in truth, it made things easier for Aroha, who struggled in crowds. The house was large for a serf's dwelling, built of sturdy stone with a thatched roof. From the outside, it looked humble, but inside it was warm and spacious. They had a proper kitchen, and both sisters had rooms of their own.
A barn stood nearby, housing cattle and a flock of chickens. The Renoffs did not eat pork, so pigs were never kept. Behind the house was the stable, where six strong horses were kept. Aroha and Zhiyi loved tending to them, one of the few chores they shared without complaint. The sisters were skilled riders, often racing through the fields with wild laughter echoing behind them. It was one of the rare times they truly seemed to get along, and their parents let them be. It was good for them to bond, and besides, Aroha almost always won. Her control over a horse was uncanny—wild, fearless, and free. Unusual for a Renoff, but fitting for her spirit.
Aroha arrived at the house, breathing heavily, irritation written on her face. How had that annoying girl beaten her back again? Zhiyi stood there, bright and unbothered, smiling as though nothing in the world could trouble her. Aroha felt the familiar spark of disdain flare within her. Zhiyi might look like an angel, but only she knew the little devil that hid behind that perfect smile.
"Are you alright, darling?" Miya asked, her voice gentle and soothing. Her calm expression never wavered; it was second nature by now. A healer's face was meant to comfort, to ease pain even before a word was spoken. Yet behind that serenity, she worried deeply for her eldest daughter.
Aroha was talented, perhaps one of the finest healers the clan had seen in generations. But her temper... that was another matter entirely. Miya feared no one beyond Juza Village would ever accept her as a healer if she could not control it. Zhiyi, on the other hand, seemed loved by everyone she met.
Miya loved both her daughters with all her heart, yet Aroha kept her up at night with worry. Gero often told her to have faith, that their eldest would calm in time. But Aroha was twenty now, no longer a child. She was of marriageable age. The Renoff name and her striking beauty could have secured her a fine match, yet her temper had driven away more suitors than Miya could count. Zhiyi, only two years younger, already had a line of admirers, though she claimed she wasn't ready to marry. Miya sometimes wondered if Zhiyi refused them out of loyalty, unwilling to wed before her sister.
The thought pained her. It was never a good sign when the younger daughter married before the elder. The Renoff name carried weight, yes, but even reputation could not mend what temperament destroyed. Miya feared her eldest might never marry, and worse still, Aroha seemed not to care.
"How have your nightmares been lately?" Miya asked quietly. It was a delicate subject, one that no one outside the family knew of. The nightmares had begun two years ago, sudden and violent. They had tried everything to help her, but nothing truly worked. Some nights were peaceful, but others were filled with terror, Aroha twisting and writhing in her sleep, her face contorted in silent agony.
It broke Miya's heart to see it.
"She's still breathing, alright," Aroha frowned in Zhiyi's direction.
It took Miya a few seconds to understand that Aroha was referring to Zhiyi. "No! Why would you call your little sister a nightmare?" Miya exclaimed.
"She's just that, that's why. And no, I didn't have any so far. I think the treatment is working just fine," Aroha replied. It was the calmest she had been since she stepped into the house. It bothered her a lot as well; the nightmares. But it was getting better with the treatment her parents devised. They weren't the best healers in the kingdom for nothing.
"I hope you've both not forgotten that you leave for the capital today. Your letters came in a week ago, you know. And you both haven't shut up about it since then. I thought you would be ready by now," Miya said.
Aroha and Zhiyi had both applied to become healers in the capital, and there was little doubt they would be accepted. After all, they were the daughters of Gero and Miya Renoff. Years earlier, the king himself had asked the Renoffs to send their daughters to the capital to train as healers, but Gero and Miya had refused. They wanted their children to grow up away from the pressures of court life, to enjoy a childhood free from duty and expectation. War had taken that freedom from them when they were young, and they were determined that their daughters would at least have a choice.
As it turned out, both girls possessed exceptional gifts. They had been taught by two of the finest healers in the realm, and yet their talents promised to surpass even their parents'. Zhiyi displayed a natural mastery and understanding that few could match, while Aroha's deep well of druidic energy placed her in a class far beyond ordinary prodigies.
Still, talent alone was not enough. To grow stronger, they needed real experience, and that could only be gained in the capital. Besides, until they passed the royal certification, they would not be recognized as official healers. The decision to go had been entirely their own. Both girls had chosen to follow in their parents' footsteps, a choice that filled Miya with pride—and surprise.
Zhiyi's decision made sense; her kindness and empathy made her a natural healer. But Aroha's choice was unexpected. She had never liked being around people, and the idea of her choosing a life dedicated to helping others seemed almost unbelievable. Miya suspected that her eldest had other reasons. Perhaps she did not want to be left alone when Zhiyi left for the capital. Or perhaps, though she would never admit it, she simply did not want to be apart from her sister.
Zhiyi, of course, had been the first to speak her intention aloud.
"We've packed already. We'll be ready in a moment," Aroha said blandly. She didn't seem half as excited as Zhiyi did.
"Where's dad?" Zhiyi asked. She already fed the animals before she left to tease Aroha and swept the compound as well, so there wasn't much left to do. It was the last time she would have to do chores for them, so she made sure to start early. Aroha didn't even bother. Good riddance to the chores. She would never have to do chores ever again.
"He's preparing two horses for you two. He's just as excited as he is sad, so I think he is avoiding seeing you two until you're ready to leave. How about you two sneak up on him?" Miya teased. It was clear where Zhiyi inherited her mischievousness from. Zhiyi's grin matched her mother's.
"I'll be in my room," Aroha said. She never did participate in the games Miya and Zhiyi came up with. But they never held it against her either. It's how she always had been.
Zhiyi snuck up on her father, who was tending to the horses, just as Miya had said. He had a slim build but with well-toned muscles that his sleeveless shirt revealed. Renoffs never had grey hair; otherwise, his hair would have been riddled with them due to his age and all the stress he went through during the war. "I know you're there, Zhiyi," he said as she tried to startle him. Zhiyi let out a loud cry. She sparsely caught him off guard, and she missed the last one she would have in a long while.
"Couldn't you let me have this one? I know you do that sometimes," Zhiyi moaned.
Gero let out a hearty laugh. "I'm sorry, my love. Old habits, I guess. Shouldn't you be getting ready? Your mother will be getting breakfast ready now," Gero said.
"I will. I just wanted to scare you a little," she said, downcast.
"Do you want to try again?" he teased.
"Never mind. I'll just be on my way," she sighed. Gero smiled as he watched his daughter run back into the house. His smile slowly turned blue. His precious daughters were leaving him.
In less than an hour, they had gotten dressed and had breakfast. Pottage it was. Miya made the best pottage, and the girls loved it. It was a farewell present in a way. They knew they wouldn't taste any pottage as good as their mother's any time soon.
"I've said all I need to for the past week. I just want you girls to be good, alright?" Gero said. He was trying hard to hold back his tears. For a man who experienced so much death and war, he was surprisingly soft. He cared about his daughters that much. The girls nodded and hugged their parents, who had lost the battle to the tears in their hearts. The girls filled their empty hearts when they had nothing to live for anymore. But now, with a heavy heart, they had to watch them leave. Hopefully, it wouldn't be farewell for the last time.