After a short while, Celest and Damion crept out of the alley, hands clasped tightly together. Celest peered from side to side, making sure the coast was clear.

“Alright, I think we’re safe. But we should probably avoid that area of town for a while.” She dropped her hand from his and skipped happily ahead.

Damion smiled sheepishly, “Again, I am very sorry. I thought it would funny!”

“Oh it definitely was.” She called behind her, “But it was also life-threatening.”

Celest trotted ahead of her brother, kicking rocks and peering down at sturdy weeds that had managed to grow through the cobblestone road. The sun was beginning to dip lower into the sky and the clouds were tinted with soft pastel blues, pinks, and yellows. Vendors were breaking down their booth and putting away the unsold merchandise for tomorrow. The twins passed a pastry shop and the women in charge gave them each a sticky bun.

“Can’t very well sell it tomorrow and it always makes me sad to throw something this delicious away.” She winked at them and Damion thanked her profusely. He jabbed Celest in the ribs, making sure she expressed her thanks as well.

The air was warm and soothing, making the walk home pleasant. Celest felt her eyelids begin to droop and she smiled sleepily. Even though things hadn’t gone exactly to plan, the day had been wonderful. She looked up at Damion and shoved him slightly, “Thanks for going out with me today.”

He cocked an eyebrow and smiled, “Of course. I told you I would, did I not?”

“I suppose that’s true but you could have just kept studying your books like you always do.”

Damion laughed, clear and light. “You have a valid point. Ah well, what is the point of living if you do not leave your home? Of course, I could have used this venture to collect more research for my journal.”

Celest pushed him, “No, you promised before! You can’t do your work when you’re with me.”

“I know, I know. I was merely joking.” He smiled and his grey eyes seemed to sparkle.

His sister began to skip forward, “C’mon, let’s hurry home! Da’s probably waiting.” She whirled around and ran straight into a figure who hadn’t been there before. Celest fell to the ground, as did the person the victim she crashed into. Like snow, a flurry of pages burst into the air and slowly sank to the ground. Celest sat up with a groan and Damion knelt down beside her.

“Celest! Are you alright? You really need to watch where you’re going.” His face grew tight with worry as he steadied his sister.

“I’m fine, just hit my head that’s all.” She took off her hat and rubbed the back of her skull, wincing slightly.

“My research!”

The shriek caused both of them to jump and turn to look at the frantic boy Celest had barreled into. His blonde hair was a tousled mess and his spectacles were skewed. His plain, white homespun robe was streaked with dirt and grew increasingly more dirty as he crawled around, picking up the pieces of parchment.

“We are so very sorry, sir! Please, let us help.” Damion began to hurriedly pick the papers and tried to organize them. The handwriting on them was sloppy, with ink blots and scribbles all over the pages. There were diagrams with arrows and circles and questions.

“No! No, no. Please, you’ve done enough already.” The young man quickly snatched the papers from Damion’s hands and eyed the twins with distrust and a hint of malice. “These documents are very sensitive and do not belong in the hands of the likes of you.” He sniffed.

Celest bolted up, “We were only trying to help! We apologized, what more do you need?” She threw her arms out wide and glared down him.

The stranger stood up clumsily and had to look up at Celest, “Well I would much rather not be tramped over by inconsiderate strangers for one thing!” Celest tensed up and was about to retaliate when Damion stepped in between them.

“Please! This bickering is not necessary.” He turned to the stranger calmly. “We apologized and tried to help. We mean you no ill-will.” He gave a sideways glance at Celest, “And you need to learn how to control your temper.” His sister rolled her eyes.

The young man stood rigidly for a few moments and then slowly adjusted his glasses. He let out a pent up sigh and rubbed his eyes. “You are correct, young sir. I spoke harshly and out of turn. I apologize. My outburst was result of having a long and strenuous day and I should not have taken it out on people trying to help me.” He smiled at them, strained and almost sad, “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Aristotle and I am visiting from Saptiae.”

Damion’s eyes lit up and he gasped in awe, “Saptiae? That’s incredible! I have always dreamed of traveling there. I hear the libraries are incredible.”

Aristotle looked as thrilled as Damion, “You’ve heard of it? That’s quite remarkable. The only people I have run into at this town so far is simple farmers and craftsmen. They care not for the wonders of knowledge and books.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I have always dreamed of being a scholar one day.” Damion suddenly scoffed at himself. “Where are my manners? My name is Damion Rowanoak,” he placed a hand on his chest and dipped his head slightly, “and this is my twin sister, Celest.” He gestured to the young girl, whose eyes had glazed over in boredom. She started suddenly.

“Huh? Oh,” she gave a rough curtesy, “pleased to meetcha.”

Damion looked at her, pained and embarrassed, “You’ll have to forgive my sister. She is not one for history.”

Aristotle appeared slightly shocked, “There must be something about it that excites you, young miss. History holds the very reason for why we are the way we are. Does that not interest you? Even in the slightest?”

She appeared to mull the thought over. Finally she spoke, sounding incredibly unimpressed, “No. Not really. I mean, why spend your days locked up in a stuffy library when you could be spending them outside, exploring new places and meeting new people.”

“But that can always be a part of research and documentation, Celest. History used to be transferred through word of mouth. Books did not exist in the past. You had to rely on other people. I have told you this before.” Damion sighed. It took everything in his being not to roll his eyes. He figured if he did, he would be no better than his sister.

The scholar beside them beamed in admiration, “I could not have explained it better myself, Damion. How absolutely thrilling to meet someone of the same caliber as myself.”

Damion stared back, astonished and thrilled that he had been noticed, “Oh! I mean, I do not think…well, I do not have the same training as you, Aristotle. I hardly think I am capable-“

“Belay that talk! You have more potential than you realize. And please, call me Ari.” The young man’s smile reached his eyes, causing them to sparkle.

Damion opened his mouth to reply, but Celest cut him off, “Not that this conversation hasn’t been absolutely thrilling,” her voice dripped with sarcasm, “but it is getting rather late, and our father is likely to be expecting us.”

Her brother paused and then nodded in agreement, “I’m afraid my sister is correct, Arist-..Ari. We must be getting home.”

The scholar suddenly started to fidget, as if slightly nervous about something, “Oh yes! Of course. I apologize to have kept you so long. However…I was wondering if…ah…”

“What seems to be the problem?” Damion asked.

“Ah well, I am staying the abbey since Father Francis was gracious enough to provide hospitality, but it appears that I have forgotten the way.” He let out an ashamed laugh.

Celest piped up, “Oh it’s easy to get there. You go down this street and then turn right at the fountain and then-“

Damion cut her off, “Here it would be much easier if we showed you the way.”

His sister looked at him sharply, “Damion. It’s late. We need to get home.”

“Your sister is right. I can make do with simple instructions.” Aristotle backed up, trying to avoid the conflict.

“Nonsense.” Damion looked down at Celest, “If you are so tired, you can go home without me. Just let Da that I will be home later. I am sure he will understand.”

Celest stared him down, hoping that her brother would break and agree to come home with her, but he remained steadfast in his decision. She let out a huff, “Fine. Don’t take long.” She turned away sharply and started to head off. As she heard her brother laugh along with the scholar, she felt her face flush with anger and jealousy. As always, Damion was the one to be noticed. As always, Damion was the one to be praised.

Celest gave another huff. Being twins with the brilliant Damion was challenging. She should have been used to it by now. While she was usually chastised and scolded, Damion was praised and admired. Damion had always been one to follow the rules while Celest had an uncanny habit for breaking them. She had never been able to focus during the brief education she had received in her earlier years. Her mind was a whirlwind of information, but that information never pertained to what was being taught.

Damion was a diligent worker who arrived early and stayed late at the abbey where the scribes informed the young students of events from the past. It was a struggle to get Father Francis, who was the headmaster as well as the head priest, to take Celest into his class, but he finally allowed her. She barely made it through two years and was removed before the third started. Celest remembered listening in the hallway as the conversation between her own father and Father Francis transpired in the kitchen.

“Please don’t take it personally, Malakith, but Celest just isn’t one for learning. She doesn’t apply herself and it is honestly a waste of time trying to teach her. I know this is important to you, but the scribes are at wit’s end with her. Frankly, I am too. She is disrespectful, childish, and unwilling. I’m sorry. I tried. I truly did. It might be best if you married her off to someone as soon as you can.”

Her father’s sigh had been heavy with sorrow and fatigue, “I understand, Father. Thank you.”

When she heard the front door shut, Celest creeped into the kitchen. Her father looked up in surprise and she saw tears brimming his tired eyes. “Oh, Celest. My shining star. Come here.” He held out his arms and she ran to him. He wrapped up his small daughter in his burly arms, holding her tenderly and gently. “Forget about what he said. There are more important things in life than being smart.”

Celest struggled to hold back her tears, “Are you going to marry me off to someone so I’m no longer a problem?”

Her father held her at arm’s length to look at her face to face, “What?” He had looked so upset, “Celest, my darling, my star, you are not a problem. You are my daughter and you will always be mine.” Celest smiled sadly at the memory.

The trip home took far longer than it should have and when she entered the house alone, her father looked up from his work at the table and gave a warm smile. The parts of a broken shovel lay scattered across the tabletop. Dirt and wood shavings littered the hard stone floor. Malakith was a stubborn man and usually refused to buy a new tool unless it was absolutely impossible to fix the broken one he owned.

“Oh you’re finally back!” He looked behind her, confused. “Where’s Damion gone off to? Not like him to leave his other half alone.” His deep voice rumbled, filling the small space. Malakith Rowanoak was more mountain than man. He was easily the tallest man in Coriff and despite his age, toned muscles still coursed over his body. His hair was a deep black like Damion’s and his eyes were an ivy green, like Celest’s. A retired town guard, he now made his living as a humble, but successful farmer and the occasional repairman from time to time. Malakith was known for his kind, charitable heart, despite the hardships he had faced in his life. Shortly after Damion and Celest were born, their mother fell ill with a sickness that had been sweeping the land. Already weak from childbirth, her health faded fast and she died when the twins were no more than a week old. Malakith put aside his grief and raised the children on his own. He made sure they were always provided for and would accept almost no help. The townspeople admired his courage and looked at the Rowanoak family with great admiration. However, some looked down at them from their untraditional values. Having Celest attend school was already unusual enough, but now that she was seventeen and still unmarried, the rumors milled about the town even more.

Celest looked up, in a slight daze and nodded, “Oh, yes. We uh, ran into a visitor from Saptiae. Damion guided him back to the abbey,” she said the word with slight detest, “since he had lost his way.”

“Ah I see. A visitor from Saptiae, you say? I suppose they had a few interests in common?” Malakith cocked an eyebrow knowingly.

She rolled her eyes, “They could have passed for twins the way they were talking.”

Her father let out a booming laugh, “Well you must feel a little bit happy for Damion. You know that it can be hard for him to make friends.”

“I suppose.” Celest said with a forced smile, but the twinge of jealousy was still there.

“No matter, I’m sure he will be home soon enough.” Malakith turned back to the broken shovel, though he seemed to be making no progress. “Did you have a good time at the festival?”

“Yes. It was fine. I’ve had a long day, Da. I think I’m going to bed.”

“Are you sure? It is still quite early. You could stay out here and keep me company as I try to fix this heap of junk.” He gestured to the shovel in frustration and gave a tired laugh. “Oh and we could wait up for Damion together-“

“Da! Please. I just want to go to bed.”

Malakith stiffened up, slightly taken aback. “Right. Of course. You know what’s best for you.”

There was a moment of tense silence before Celest started to head for her room. “Goodnight, Da.”

As the door slammed shut, Malakith sighed heavily and stared down at the shovel. He hesitated for a moment, looking up at where Celest had left and finally continued his work.

†