Will swung his seven year old body over the low stone wall that blocked off the orchard. Reagan didn't like him climbing, but that was where the best apples were. It was winter now,though, and the branches were bare. Will liked to come here to think. Everyone who came and went from the Keephad always said that he was an old head on young shoulders. Leaves rustled in the trees, and Will's hand went without thinking to the pendant at his throat.
It was shaped like a leaf, encrusted with emerald chips, handed doown through the ages. It was a comfort to feel its familiar weight against his chest.
He ambled upthe worn path, up the slope to the top of the hill. He stood proudly at the top, feeling as much like a king as his father. He was always the forgotten, the overlooked prince. Someday, it wouldbe his turn. He pulled out his book and his lead. Gazing down at the beautiful view, he drew the trees, the curve of the clouds. He captured the movement of the trees, the shimmer of moonlight on the midnight blue lake. The night air was deathly quiet, a light breeze blowing across the leaves, ruffling Will's hair.
Willhelm Snowfyre, Your talents are larger than previously thought. All hail, the last Fortunate. You will be the key to you family's success. You, and your sister, Lady of the dawn. When the first star lights the sky three morrows from now, call to your guide, he will show you the path to greatness. All hail Willhelm Snowfyre, for you will save us all.
