Briella

Briella & Roman

"Briella, please take care of your brothers," the old woman's voice resonated.

"I'll be right there," Briella responded, her tone tinged with dutiful responsibility.

Greetings! I am Briella. Just as you've overheard, my mother summoned me to attend to my six spirited siblings. She, employed as a cook at Adrian's Tavern, maintains a demanding schedule, and consequently, I am entrusted with the care of these energetic youngsters. Their ages span from twelve years old to six months: Alec, Sera, Daniel, Emil, Eliana, and Peter. Our abode rests in Oldam, a quaint village nestled on the fringes of the Serafina Kingdom. While I once harbored dreams of embarking on a journey to the capital upon my eighteenth birthday, gazing upon the resplendent Princess Rosaline, and partaking in the Hantale ceremony to extol the blessings bestowed upon our realm, such aspirations are often but ephemeral desires. But let us return to the pressing matter of tending to these adorable and mischievous siblings and shelve the realms of reverie for now.

"Children, it is time to prepare for slumber. Brush your teeth and retire to bed," I instructed, my voice a blend of authority and affection.

A cacophony of youthful voices erupted as the kids debated over the order in which they should perform their nightly rituals. "Sera, cease your striking! Enough," came one child's plea, punctuated by another's protestation.

"Sera, enough! Quiet, all of you! Remember that Peter is sleeping," I admonished, a calm yet firm command reigning in the chaos.

Each child acquiesced, reclining upon their beds, captivated by the story I was about to regale them with. As I embarked on the tale of the gallant knight who had saved our realm from the malevolent clutches of the Evil Sorcerers of The Vetus Empire, to my astonishment, drowsiness and curiosity merged into slumber for the young audience before the narrative could reach its zenith. Tenderly, I bestowed a kiss upon each forehead, and with a deft motion, the room was immersed in the soothing darkness.

In our realm, magic is an omnipotent force, intrinsic to the very fabric of our existence. It facilitates all facets of life—be it sustenance, mobility, or communication. Every individual is endowed with distinct magical prowess, each tailored to fulfill specific needs. In my case, my abilities cater to the exigencies of daily life.

Rare moments of respite are a luxury indeed. Wrapped in a cocoon of warmth offered by a small blanket, I ventured to a nearby pond, its proximity to our dwelling betraying its existence. The bracing chill did little to detract from the allure of the nocturnal panorama. The melodious cadence of water cascading, interspersed with the serenade of cicadas and the choreography of fireflies, coalesced to form an enchanting spectacle. An ethereal proclamation reverberated through the tranquil air—"It is time!"—and the celestial alignment of the blue moon with the heart of the pond cast a luminescent silhouette upon the water's surface. The runes that lay ensconced beneath the pond's depths ignited with a golden luminosity, invoking the symphony of singing fairies, embellishing the spectacle. Regrettably, this enchanting display was ephemeral, reserved solely for the grand stage that occurred once each month.

Enveloped in the enchantment of this performance, I found solace beneath the sheltering embrace of a tree, my heart still abuzz from the mesmerizing encounter. A small piece of parchment emerged from my pouch, a canvas upon which I meticulously etched a symbol that promptly radiated with a gentle luminosity. The Vetter—an instrument of Voice Letters—was poised for use. With arms outstretched, I beseeched, "May this Vetter find its path and, oh benevolent deity, grant that someone, somewhere, may lend their ear to my yearnings." Admittedly, such an act might strike some as fanciful, but my world was bound by the confines of Oldam Village. My aspirations spanned a pantheon of desires: to traverse the world, encounter the preeminent magicians, explore the bustling trade metropolis, luxuriate in the blessed lake's embrace, and indulge in countless more adventures. The specter of being ensnared within the village's confines, tethered to the butcher's repugnant son through marriage, loomed ominously over my dreams.