Prologue

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Prologue: Lea Stronghold P.O.V.

                I sit on the fresh cut grass gazing up at the crystalline blue sky. The heat of the summer sun warms my skin, my bones, and my heart. It's all so picturesque.  I savor the moment, full of peace and contentment. Even though we hide secrets and live in a state of constant worry, right now, life is good; perfect even, and I've learned to appreciate it and live in the moment like my husband does.

                Sorrel lies beside me, his eyes crinkled in quiet amusement as he protectively watches our kids run around the bustling playground. I suppose "kids" is the wrong thing to say though, since Mara has never needed to be looked after quite so closely. I can see her now with her little friends, entertained as she chants a childish rhyme while hopping through a jump-rope.

                Though she already shows the signs of a strong and fiery-candor temperment, she's not the one who needs constant supervision. My heart rate jumps a fraction when I realize I don't see him, my little boy; Sage. I begin to stand, alarmed, but don't move any further when I feel strong and gentle fingers weave into my own.

                "He's fine, see, stop worrying," Sorrel says, pointing to the monkey-bars that have been built in a dome-like shape.

                I scan the area immediately, searching for our faction colors; black and white, the colors of candor. Then I see him; the shock of his shaggy raven-colored hair setting him apart from the other candor children. There he is, at the very top, perched on a pair of crisscrossing bars. It's precariously high, and though there is soft sand for him to land on if he falls, I still feel like it's much too dangerous. He's always getting into mischief, and more often than not, it's in the most unexpected places.

              He beams proudly and gives a gleeful whoop; he's so young, but already I can tell his fearlessness doesn't come from lack of world knowledge, it comes from somewhere within himself. It's as natural for him to be brave, as it is for Mara to be bluntly honest.

                "Not so high Sage!" I call out in warning.

                He grins impishly and cups a little hand to his ear, pretending he can't hear what I've just said. Then he bends over and helps his friend up. The brown haired boy, Danny, whom I've been entrusted to watch and see as a second son, scrambles up and then waves at us.

                "Danny, don't let go of the bars," I warn when I see him lurch a little to the side.

               It looks as if he's about to fall, but he manages to catch himself, wrapping his hands around one of the poles. I want to stand, to run and yank both of the boys off of the bars and keep them safe, but I know that it could be seen as an over-exaggeration by the other parents.

                "Lea, it's fine," Sorrel again soothes me. "Sage has him. He won't fall."

                I nod, but as I watch Sage crawl over on his belly and try to pull Danny back up, I again feel the instinct to rush over and protect them.

                "You're being paranoid," Sorrel accuses with a chuckle. "Relax, you worry too much."

                "I'm an anxious mother," I correct him with a sigh. "I can't relax."

                I continue to watch stiffly as Sage struggles to yank Danny back up. Though they're laughing and smiling, I can't help but see that Sage takes the whole affair a little more seriously than a young boy should. Past the grins and sounds of play, I can see a tiny flare of determination in his brown eyes as he clamps his hands around Danny's arms.

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