Flash Fiction #7

A glimpse into the childhoods of Jesimae’s main characters:

Ashdan frowned at her older brothers as they scrambled up the wall of the Governor’s Palace. Using the combined strength of their twin connection, Aedrian had forced the dead vines clinging to the wall back to life. They grew full and thick–big enough to climb on.

Mother and Father had specifically forbade them from ever attempting a heist on the Palace–at least, until they were older. Ashdan didn’t follow most of their rules, but she happened to agree with this one. The guards that stood on the walls of this Palace did not have much patience with children. Angerona was a hard city and bred even harder citizens. If they were caught, it didn’t matter that her brothers were only eleven and she, nine–they would all be hung without any semblance of a trial. It didn’t help that they were the Rogue’s children. The Governor would gladly execute them to make a point to their Father.

All that aside, she followed them like the loyal little sister she was, grumbling the whole way. When they reached the top, Aedrik hopped down onto the walkway and shot them a feral grin. His hand shot out in a quick high five to Aedrian, acknowledging his twin’s awesome display of magic. This was the most exciting moment of their young lives.

They skirted several guards and a watch sergeant┬ábefore finding a winding staircase onto the Palace grounds. They had to stifle giggles as they descended amidst the sounds of the clueless adults above. Normal children wouldn’t have made it up the wall, but these three weren’t anywhere close to normal.

The high of being somewhere they had never gone and likely never would again started to catch up with Ashdan. She grew careless and found herself tripping down the steps with abandon, her magical disguise slipping. They were about to exit the stairwell when two massive hands came from nowhere and grabbed them all by the scruff of the neck.