The light that came with beautiful dawn shone over the kindom of Dehlyn, giving the land a softened edge. Dew glistened everywhere, soft rays of sunlight slipped among the branches in nearby trees, trying to warm them before the stormclouds close behind came to overcast them. In all the world, no mind remembers such a scene in such a way better then the mind of the young man or woman.

These two young women rose quietly, one wakened by the other gently at first, then shaken awake by her young foster sister.

"Arowyn, Arowyn, Arowyn, you must be awake! Uncle Jacob says you must rise, quick or be very, very late!" eight-year-old Alyssa pounced on Arowyn, one of the many foster children in the care of Reverend Jacob Martell and his wife Ahlisa

"What time is it?" Arowyn sat up and glanced around for Elysia, the Reverend's daughter and her closest friend.

Something pale purple and soft landed on top of Arowyn's head. Alyssa jumped back, squealing, as Elysia's laugh rang through the room. "Sun just rose." she said. "Put the dress on. Alyssa helped me finish altering it last night. It should be perfect for you."

"Thanks." Arowyn rose and ran a hand through her dark, wavy hair. "Hopefully I can get into it in time to be there before I collapse."

"Perhaps." Elysia followed Arowyn behind a screen where she could change and helped her into the dress.

Once Arowyn had brushed her hair and gone downstairs to eat (and every seat at that long table was filled. There were twelve boys and girls there, varying from Elysia and Arowyn to Alyssa to the youngest child, a boy of six named Henry) she slipped outside into a sudden rainstorm and saddle a horse, lessons for a very important student inside a waterproof saddle bag.

For she, a girl of seventeen, tutored the future ruler and king, the prince Trey. A great student a companion, Arowyn had never missed a lesson with him in the past year.

"Wait!" a voice called over the storm. Marcus, the Reverend's son, had come to protest at Arowyn taking the best horse, Shine, for herself.

"I'm sorry, I don't have time, Marcus!" Arowyn called, as she sped past him. He could wait. The field couldn't be ploughed in this weather anyhow.

Arowyn sped through the market, several people calling after her in irritation. As with Marcus, she had no time for conversation or apologies. Unfortunately for some mud-splattered civilians behind her, she was in a great hurry.

By the time she arrived, she was soaked to the skin, and her horse was tired and hungry.

"Bit late today, but there ye be, Miss Arowyn!" Kelly, one of the senior grooms, called as she pulled into the palace stables.

"You would be surprised if I arrived at all on a day like this, sir!" Arowyn exclaimed as the man helped her down. "Thank you. Take care of him for me, Mr. Kelly."

"Of course, missy!" he laughed. "Run off, you're late enough as it is!" he pushed her playfully.

Arowyn rushed through the servant's quarters to the palace kitchens. It was her favourite shortcut.

The End

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