+++++

(11 Years Ago)

The once happy eyes of cheerful, young farm boy now brimmed with emptiness, as he watched his mother and father carelessly turn their backs to him.

As his parents began walking back towards the farm house, building distance from their boy, a sound of bitter jovially faintly came from the couple.

It was hard to tell, but the abandoned boy could almost hear a rise of excitement stemming from the two that he had once called his ‘ma’ and ‘pop’.

“ma?…” The boy called to the pair walking away. “Pa?…”

He kept the tears from forming in his eyes.

His father had always taught him to sturdy his emotions.

That would be a piece of his father that he’d keep with him.

Even now.

“Pay no mind to them dear.” A tall, shrill woman said whispered to him.

Lurching down, she rested an affirming hand upon the boy’s broad shoulder.

“You’re my boy now and you have nothing to fear. I can give you more love than those two ever did- and would; so, come along now.” The tall, shrill woman lead him down the gravel road, “I want to introduce you to your sisters.”

“S-sisters?” The boy asked.

“Yes my dear, you’ll have sisters now- and I need you to be a strong young man and help me look after them.” The tall, shrill woman ployed. “Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” The boy ensured with roughness.

The tall, shrill woman smiled as she courted the boy to a large hay wagon that sat waiting at the farm road entrance.

As they approached the wooden wagon, fashioned from aged cedar wood planks with rusted wheels and stuffed with mounds of freshly harvested hay, the boy’s height allowed him to catch a glimpse of two other children nested within the cart.

Jet-black, curly locks from one and wiry, sun-bleached hair on the other peeked out.

It was only when he got closer that he could see the wonderstruck faces of two girls, the same age as him.

“These are your new sisters, my dear.” The tall, shrill woman interjected.

The boy continued to curiously stare at the two bewildered girls.

“This is June.” The tall, shrill woman gestured to the shy girl with bright, straw-like hair.

Her eyes darted away as she sunk back into the stacks of hay.

“And this one is July.”

The other girl held her eyes up and locked on the boy. 

Leaning slightly forward, her face got close enough to display a scattered array of freckles that strung across her blushed nose and cheeks. Her dots were framed by the messy explosion of black curly hair bounced around her ears.

She didn’t say a word. She only held her gaze until June quietly tugged at her shirt.

“And you, my boy, will now be August.” The tall, shrill woman explained.

“But, ma’am, my name is Henrick.” The boy kindly explained.

“Now now, that will be no more. Since I am your mother now, from here on, to me and to your sisters, you will be known as August.”

“Yes ma’am.” The boy answered reluctantly without further question. He hung his head to the ground and gently kicked at some loose rocks.

“My dear August, you carry an honored name, dear.” The tall, shrill woman said with an inspiringly sly motive. “Far too many children are born in the eighth month of the year; it makes it difficult to pick through the handfuls of potential. There may be many who share your inherited aura; however, only a couple are gifted enough to harness the melting heat of Summer within their veins… without perishing to their own power. Do you understand?”

The boy kept his head down.

“I’m not sure that I do…” He finally spoke. “Is that what you and my pa’ were discussin’ earlier?”

The tall, shrill woman kept silent for a second.

Extending a long, boney finger, to left the boy’s chin back up and meet her hollow eyes.

“What I mean to say, is that you are gifted, my boy.” The tall, shrill woman explained joyfully.

“Ma’am?” The boy’s voice now filled with purpose.

“Oh please, my dear August, call me mom.”

“Yes, ma— … -mom… Yes mom.”

The farm boy couldn’t help but have a glimmer spark in his eye at that moment.

“Such a sweet, well behaved boy you are my dear August.” The tall, shrill woman chimed. “I’m sure that the others will enjoy your company.”

“Others?” 

“- oh, we must be off before sunset; otherwise, we’ll be stuck out here all night.” The tall, shrill woman exclaimed, as she scooted the farm boy closer to the wagon.

August climbed aboard, joining June and July in the hay filled wagon and the rusted wheels began to turn with uneven creaks in their ware.

’That’s odd.’ August pondered. ‘I don’t remember seeing any horses, or ox.’

As he stood up, to peer at the front of the wagon, the bumpy movement of the aged wheels rolling over uneven ground caused him to stumble and fall back into the bed of hay. However, for a brief moment, be thought he could see the forms of two horses, now reined to the front station. Upon the hitched bench was the shapeless veiled figure of the tall, shrill woman. She clasped the reins and remained motionless.

Sinking deep into the hay, he finally got a clearer look at the two girls, who were now his new sisters.

The set of brazen eyes, as enriched as smokey-quartz and as neutral the lumber of pine trees, bombarded August, as he saw July spring up and meet his face once more. 

Her eyes were fierce, heart-broken, and dashed with an ounce of brashness, but above all else, these were eyes belonging to a lost soul.

They displayed a determination that sparked hope in his heart. These inspiring eyes glimmered upon an olive-oil complexion with freckles and black curly hair. There was an energy to his sister, July that gave him warm and coldness at the same time.

“There was two more before…” The freckled girl whispered, all while still maintaining focus on the farm boy.

“Two more?” He repeated in a hushed tone.

“Two more before you and June got here… they were from the same community of harvesters that I came from…”

“Where’d they go?” He asked.

“…”

“What happened to them?”

“…”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to ask so much- July was it?”

“… That’s not my real name- but yeah.” The freckled girl finally responded.

“It’s okay, my name’s not really August, but I guess that mom really likes the sounds of the months, huh?”

“-She’s not mom.” July swiftly interjected. “She’s the Hemlock’s maid, requesting my help for the North.”

“Really? I’ve never seen no’ maid that dresses in all black. Was there a recent passin’?” August asked.

“…”

“My apologies for askin’.”

August glanced over to the other girl, who was shyly curled up behind a little wall of sparse hay that she had quietly constructed while they were talking.

“She’s not my mom.” The shy girl asserted.

Small fragments of light reflected off of her soft opal eyes.

Such a sight conveyed insurmountable kindness- an organic adoration-  round and innocent as the lingering moon in a new morning sky.

June’s face was milky white and her bright strawy hair flowed in the wind. 

August had never witnessed any girl that embodied the essence of a doll-like appearance.

As August held a curious glance to June, July scoffed and fell back into another stack of hay.

“You know that even though we now live with that maid, we’re not really siblings.” July grumbled. “There’s no problem if you like her.”

August and June sat in awkward silence as July turned her shoulder and decided to try sleeping for the remainder of the travel.

She was secretly anxious for the unknown that awaited in the North, but more than anything, July was perplexed that she had found others, who seemingly accepted her.

- - - 

+++++

(Present)

“July! July!”

“Jules! Where are you?!”

August and June ran through the remaining flames, that kindled upon the fallen tree scraps.

Smoke began to slowly dissipate, but the wreckage left behind  made everything in view difficult to discern.

Everything was black and grey.

Burnt objects crumbled with the slightest breeze.

Acidic odor permeated the air, hazing the atmosphere.

Nothing was in sight;

all that remained was dead. 

August continued to embark through the smokey wastelands. Each footstep he took sank into shallow pits that once housed the large tree roots.

All was taken by the fire.

“What the Hell happened?” He thought aloud. “What did she do?”

Pulling each sunken foot from the next as he carried-on through the wastes, August began to engulf himself in a coat of staking flames. 

- Perhaps as a signal for his lost sister- or a symbol of his unsteadiness.

        As his fire peaked in a chimney-narrowed flame, reaching high above the surviving tree tops, the bright display attracted more of the grotesque figures that were still recovering from July's initial explosion.

       Crawling from the loose dirt, the semi-coherent creatures lunged toward August, flailing their bodies into his flames, where he quickly dispatched the straggling numbers with precision.

       In-between the carnage, his fire raged to a lethal proportion.

“Jules!!!” He shouted out. “Where are you?!”

June dropped behind him and took a closer inspection of the landmass.

June picked up the soil, finicking through the hardened grainuals. Smelling the residual odors that wavered with each step forward, she directed her focus to each angle of wind current and scanned the surface for remaining indications of magic.

“July was here.” She worded to herself. “But she suddenly vanished without further trace.”

        "She might be gone..."