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After last week’s dresscapade, I decided to pick out one of my finer dresses from within the armoire instead of purchasing a new one.

The dress is a soft, dusty blue—the color I imagine the sky to be were it not for the never-ending gray.

The corset bodice is a slightly deeper shade of dusty blue with elegant embroidered gold flowers that appear to dance across the fabric.

Layered over my simple white, smocked off-the-shoulder blouse, I’d say it is rather striking.

Though it’s simple, I’ve always found this one to be the most beautiful in my possession.

Once I’m fully dressed, I pin a small section of my golden-strawberry waves behind my ear.

My hair is quite a unique thing as it’s neither wavy nor curly.

It tends to have a mind of its own. Turning toward the mirror standing on the opposite side of the room, I rotate my head to see if anything new has popped up over the last eight hours.

I sigh, finding my neck is still bare and signet-less.

I had only the smallest hope that it’d manifest today, but I haven’t experienced even a shiver of power course through me.

Siorai must have quite a laugh over the little Null praying for an ability.

It must be so comical to him. Otherwise, why would he continuously torment me?

Most Malvorians maintain a deep reverence for the Silent God, but I’ve been devout to Siorai to a fault.

I’ve followed his ordinances, believing that everything in our lives has a purpose.

However, I’ve been having doubts as of late, especially when I can hear the treacherous howls of the creatures in the evening.

How could Siorai, who loves his creation, allow such wickedness into his beloved realm?

It’s as if he’s turned a blind eye to the deviations that King Tiernan has created.

There’s even talk of the king desiring to spread the Drakhul to the furthest reaches of Celestae—total domination.

Yet, where is our beloved Siorai?

He’s not here as we’ve descended into the vileness of the curse.

“All it takes is one star to shine bright to make a difference in the darkness.” Amelia’s words of wisdom echo in my mind.

They are so simple, yet could any truth be found in them?

I desperately want to believe there’s still goodness in this realm, hidden beneath evil.

I hope there’s a purpose in this existence beyond whether or not I have an ability.

Even if Siorai never blesses my life with anything more than what I already have, I’ll do my best to overcome the darkness that’s become restless within me.

I desire to make a difference. If the only way I can do so is through my work at The Violet Lily Shop, then so be it.

I stare for another moment longer into my ocean-blue eyes.

My golden pendant catches the light as it remains in the same place it’s always been.

I clutch it, holding it tight against my chest as if it were my lifeline.

The amnesia might’ve taken my former memories, but it cannot have my future.

The nightmares may rob me of sleep, but it’ll never truly steal my rest under the stars.

The darkness might overwhelm me, but it’ll never be strong enough to extinguish my glow.

For this one moment, I allow a single tear to leave a trail down my face as I grieve all that the woman before me has lost.

Her memories.

Her past.

Her desires.

Once the tear is gone, I lightly pat my eyes and put on my warmest smile.

Instead of wallowing in pity, I’m going to pursue love, make a home for myself, and continue to run the shop with Cara until the end of our days.

I’ll help the twins, Aidan and Cillian, in all of their grand adventures, as well as the younger children in whatever endeavors they wish to pursue.

I’ll be there to care for Rolph and Amelia when the end of their long days draws near, and death comes to carry them to Eternity.

I’m going to laugh more than I cry, and forgive more than I hold onto resentment or anger. I’m going to live.

Which is why I won’t sulk this entire evening over the things I don’t possess.

Knowing Cara, she went out of her way to make sure her friends are welcoming tonight, so I intend to be kind as well.

This is the first time I’m meeting the friends she’s become acquainted with over the last year during her weekly night out at the tavern.

She’s invited me to come once or twice before, but I’ve always declined.

Where I find enjoyment in my solitude and books, she’s always relished the company of others.

In our formative years, she was friendly with all manners of people, and they adored her.

Then there I was—the uncouth adopted sister that was more interested in trying to explain the plot of my favorite book than tabulate a list of which boys were the most appealing.

It isn’t that I didn’t try to be friendly or inviting.

Perhaps whenever I’d talk, I was too brazen or brash, maybe too opinionated.

Either way, my dearest friendships were the characters someone else created, while Cara made real connections and relationships.

So, as terrifying as this night is for me, I’m going to be brave for my sister.

Besides, the extra company will take my mind off the fact that I am, in all regards, a Null.

With that in mind, I hastily step out into the hallway just as Cara emerges from her room.

She’s pulled her auburn hair up into a braided bun, with a few tresses framing her face.

She’s opted to wear a deep burgundy dress with silver embroidery detailing her bodice in shimmering swirls.

Her shoes are silver flats that are quite simple, but add a level of elegance to her ensemble.

“Maeva, you look radiant,” she says, smiling. “Are you ready for the night of your life?”

I return her smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply.

With four quick strides, Cara is at my side and dragging me toward the stairs.

“Well, come on then! We don’t want to be late. Everyone is so excited to celebrate your special day,” she exclaims.

“They are?” I ask.

“Indeed. I’ve told you for months that my friends were desperate to meet you since I talk about you so often,” she replies.

“What could you have possibly told them to elicit such a response?” I ask, a little wary.

“Oh you know, just that my beautiful sister-friend is quite humorous and quick-witted. I also might have mentioned the time you ran through the backyard chasing a pig in your nightgown,” she teases.

“Why in all of Celestae would you ever tell that story?” I gasp.

She winces. “Well, it was funny, and we were swapping stories on the hilarious oddities of our siblings,” she says quietly.

“And you thought my nightgown pig chase was the winner?” I ask incredulously.

“Maybe… okay, yes! That was a long time ago, though. I am sure none of them even remember it,” she replies.

“You better hope they don’t, or I’ll tell them of the special cookies you made for dear old Mr. Friedrich after our last spring courses,” I retort.

Cara looks me straight in the eye with a glint of amusement twinkling in her irises. “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenges .

“Oh, but I would, if they bring up my pig story,” I reply with a cheeky grin.

As we reach the bottom landing, a chorus of oohs and ahs flood from the family members lingering in the foyer.

They hug us and remind us to be careful this evening.

After many reassurances that we will be safe, Cara and I make our way out the door and into the brisk air to conquer the night to be remembered.