The angry shouts and yells of her father’s voice echoed off the stone walls. Hestia curled up tighter in her bed, pulling the blanket over her head, hoping it would drown out the noise. Trying to steady herself, she clutched the pendant that hung around her neck. It was carved into the shape of a sleeping ashwyvern, its body curled around a small circular ruby. It was the last gift her mother had given her before she died, promising that it would protect her when she needed it most. Hestia didn’t know how it could protect her at this moment, but still clung as tightly to it as she could.

Her heart beat wildly as the shouting rose in volume, the man behind it making his way closer and closer to her rooms. She tried to steady her breathing, to stop the tears now streaming down her cheeks, but it was no use, it never was. All she could do was pray to Ignius and hope he would keep her safe. Though her prayers often went unanswered, it never stopped from trying each and every time. So once again, she closed her eyes and began to whisper a prayer.

A few moments passed, and the shouting suddenly stopped. She didn’t feel relief though; she knew what it meant. He had gotten the reaction he wanted at the expense of one of her sisters. It should have been her, Hestia thought. She wasn’t the oldest, nor was she the strongest, but she loved her sisters and she wanted to protect them no matter what. She wanted to, but she didn’t. She didn’t want to use the fire burning within her heart, the fire her father had created and constantly tried to provoke, hoping it would engulf her in the end. She refused to stoop to his level, to be anything like him. So instead, she curled up and pulled the covers over her head, not out of fear, but out of shame for not doing everything she could.

She had almost dozed off again when the sound of loud footsteps startled her awake. It wasn’t over, and this time it was her turn to endure her father’s temper. She knew what the footsteps meant; he had spent too much time in the wine cellar and concocted some ludicrous reason to be angry with her, but at least it wasn’t her sisters who would face his wrath this time.

Her heart pounded with every footstep that echoed throughout the halls, with every smash that followed as he pulled portraits off the wall and knocked over every vase in his path. She knew what was coming, and yet she could do nothing to prepare. Nothing but lay in her bed and hope he believed she was asleep. Sometimes it worked, sometimes he was mad enough that he would wake her up just to yell.

The footsteps were closer now, only a few paces from her door. She froze, only able to watch as the footsteps stopped and a shadow appeared under the door. She was still frozen when the handle moved, and the door swung open, slamming into the wall on the other side. The noise broke her from her trance, causing her to abruptly sit up and position herself in the familiar corner where her bed met the wall.

She braced for what would happen next, but everything was quiet. Her door was closed, and there were no footsteps or shouts to be heard. After her eyes had a moment to adjust, she looked around. Details of the room made themselves known to her. A small vanity to her left, a hairbrush left out from earlier in the evening, and a large wardrobe that took up most of the wall across from her.

It had been a dream, of course it had. Not the last she would have this week, just as it had gone every week for the last five years since she moved from home. She left to escape her father and his volcanic temperament, and yet he still found ways to torture her from the opposite side of the kingdom. She was tired of it, all of it. The sleepless nights, the power her father still had over her from so far away, the resemblance she saw between them every time she looked at her reflection. But nothing drained her more than the power that stirred deep inside her, tempting her to give in to its heat just like her father had, just like she vowed she never would. Her father was a waking nightmare she might never escape.

She felt hollow as she laid back down in her bed. Sleep only held more torturous dreams for her to endure, forcing her to relive the torment of her past. So instead, she stared at the ceiling, and prayed to Ignius, once again clutching her mother’s necklace to her chest. She prayed to him as his priestess, his subject, his daughter. She prayed for hours, while tears tracked down her cheeks and soaked her pillows. She prayed for something to help her find peace, to give her an escape from the torment, for a night of sleep where she did not feel afraid. She continued to pray until the sun came up, filling her bed chamber with light and warmth that offered a welcoming embrace. She let the sun warm her face and dry her tears before she began to get ready for the day.

It took her longer than usual to pull herself from bed, hoping with everything she had left that today would hold better things than the night before it. Finally, she mustered enough energy to rise from beneath the covers and stalk to her wardrobe, lazily switching her satin nightgown for the red and orange robes she wore every day as a priestess of Ignius, the God of Fire.

Once dressed, Hestia shuffled to the vanity, plopping down on the cushioned stool in front of it. She quickly brushed through her hair before styling the auburn locks into a neat braid that rested over her shoulder. Once she felt she could pass for someone who had a full night’s rest, she ventured downstairs for breakfast before the early morning service began.

By the evening, Hestia’s day was much improved. She received the blessing of Ignius during the early morning service and was able to finish her duties early, leaving her some time to go to the library before the bells rang, signaling it was time for dinner and the evening service. She tried to go to the library whenever she had the time, which was seldom now that she had taken on extra responsibilities in hopes of becoming High Priestess one day.

As a young girl, she often hid in the castle library to escape her father’s wrath. Letting the books transport her to a different world, one full of love and adventure. A world she found much more enjoyable than the one she lived in. Reading still provided her with that escape, her taste in books the same, just more mature.

A light breeze blew across her face as she walked. She had chosen to take the path through the gardens, hoping the fresh air would help settle her mind. It did, for a moment, but that was all washed away when she turned the corner and came face to face with an undeniably handsome man, leaving her feeling just as frozen as she had the night before. He was much taller than her, at least a head and a half, with hair as dark as night and eyes that glowed like embers. His pointed ears led her to believe he was a noble fae, much like herself. Though that was no longer a guarantee he was of nobility himself, many lines had lost their titles and land, only keeping the features of their once great bloodline, and the magic of course.

Noble fae were bestowed with the affinity for magic by the gods themselves. The ruling family of each kingdom was given the power that coursed through their land, though only the crowned monarch could fully access their powers. Hestia lived in the kingdom of Liekki, nicknamed the Court of Flames due to its fiery landscape and the royal magic that matched.

Others outside the royal family could also possess magic, though their powers manifested randomly and usually resembled those of their ancestors before them, these powers were much more varied, from shape-shifting, to reading minds, to conjuring items from thin air.

Hestia suddenly realized she was staring and tried to look away, but the male only gave her a soft smile and then stepped aside, gesturing with his hand to allow her to pass. She didn’t return his smile, though she appreciated the gesture. Instead, she hurried off towards the library, keeping her head down to avoid having to meet his eyes again.

Reaching the library quickly, she pulled the door open and walked quietly to her usual spot, hoping to avoid interacting with anyone else inside. She accomplished her mission, dodging quite a few chatty priestesses among the shelves before finally resting in a small sitting chair in the back corner of the library. There was only one lantern on the wall to illuminate the space, but she didn’t mind. It was the perfect amount to read under and it discouraged others from making their way this far back.

Hestia plucked a book off the top of a nearby stack and opened it to the page marked by a small piece of paper. They weren’t allowed to take books from the library, so she collected a few of her favorites and kept them in her spot, marking her progress in each with a small slip of paper so she could jump right back into whatever adventure the pages held.

It didn’t take long for her to fall into the world inside her book. She needed the escape, especially after her chance encounter in the gardens. It had been a long time since she had seen a male of any sort. It was rare that one visited the temple, and only the priestesses made their home within its walls. Many of them had a reason of their own for devoting their lives to the priestesshood,  some of them involving the acts of debaucherous men. It was for that reason that a visit from a male was rare, only those who had been approved by the High Priestess herself were allowed to set foot within the temple walls. So, whoever that male was, he must have been very important.

None of that was what really bothered her however. It was the safety she felt with him, nothing like the stories she had heard from her sisters of sinister men who had an aura of malevolence, nothing like her father. In the few moments she stood in front of the man, his soft smile and gentle eyes had made her feel as though he wouldn’t hurt her. She had no reason to feel that way, and was probably a fool because she did. She needed to get the whole encounter off her mind, so she took a deep breath and dove back into her book once more.

She only had ten pages left when she was interrupted by someone tapping on her shoulder.

“Hestia, are you in there?” She looked up at the female tapping her, and instantly realized it was Raea, her closest friend within these walls.

“You scared me,” Hestia exclaimed.

“I’m sorry,” Raea giggled, “What world were you lost in this time?”

“One far better than this one, but what would be the point in reading if it wasn’t. Was there something you needed Raea?”

Her friend studied her a moment before replying, but Hestia knew before she said anything that Raea was concerned about her. They had been friends since Hestia’s first night in the temple, when Raea found her sitting alone at dinner and made sure that never happened again. They had been close ever since, and spent any free time they had reading next to each other in the library, often swapping books so they could talk about them later.

Raea was the one person Hestia felt she could go to no matter what, especially in the temple. Her burnt orange skin and pale hair made it clear that she was from a village in the ashen forest, but she rarely talked about exactly why she came to the temple. The forest is known to be a harsh place to live, even in the villages, but that alone is not enough to drive someone to the temple, and Hestia still didn’t know what was.

Finally breaking her silence, Raea explained why she had come.

“Elithiya sent me for you,” she began. “She didn’t tell me why but whatever it was, it seemed urgent. You never know, Hes, this meeting could hold the next step to High Priestess. We both know how much you want that.”

She did want that, more than Raea even knew, but she was right nonetheless. This was an opportunity Hestia couldn’t pass up, no matter how badly she wanted to finish those last ten pages. So, with a sigh, she marked her spot with the small slip of paper, closing the book and gently placing it back on top of her pile.

“We’ll sneak back in here after the evening service so you can finish your book,” Raea said, giving Hestia a wink before turning around and heading back to the front of the library. “You will be fine,” she yelled over her shoulder before she was too far, clearly sensing the rising anxiety within Hestia as she thought about meeting with Elithiya.

Elithiya was the High Priestess and while she was not unkind or inhumane, she was very serious about their duties as priestesses. Hestia didn’t mind it; she too felt her duties should be taken seriously and so she never had a problem with Elithiya. She knew others that had, however, and it was for that reason she let out a small prayer that she was summoned for a good reason.