At age five Esme Dupont was waving off her parents along side her governess, a towering and fierce woman. It was dark and cold and she was swathed in rich, fine furs. Her parents were too, her mother especially who stood unfeeling of the bitter wind in white and red beautifully. The snow paled in comparison to her coat and fair skin in both purity and beauty.
Esme was given a formal pat on the head by her father and her mother hugged and kissed her before they headed to their royal blue car. Esme's cheek felt wet from the lipstick kiss she'd received and she rubbed it lightly. As her parents vanished into the oil-car, Esme waved wildly, ignoring her governess' whispers to remain cordial. She missed them terribly already despite them vanishing for only a few seconds. She had to be brave though. They were going to be gone for a while.
Her parents were off to Brisbois, a city in the northern lands of Emprise du Soleil, to fly on the first cruising zepplin known as the L'aube. All the rich and important people were heading there, preparing for a month's flight about their beautiful country on the world's most prestigious and expensive zepplin.
But the Dupont's were never going to reach Brisbois. With the roads covered in ice and the world blanketed in darkness and snow, the driver lost control two hours into the two day journey and the car flew off the mountain road and collided with the ground after a one mile drop. The sleet pouring from the boiling black clouds meant the fireball that blossomed from the impact didn't burn for long.
The charred remains of the Duponts and their driver were discovered four days later. They were given an elaborate and swift funeral as Esme cried beside her governess seven days later. After a further nineteen days, Esme stood inside the impressive hall of the Wizard's Ivory Tower of the foreign Conjoined Kingdoms, sniffling and clutching the hand of her governess as she was about to meet her aunt and new carer.
And as Esme gazed at the beautiful face of the Wizard, Cassandra Bloxham, with tears pricking her eyes at how hauntingly like her mother she looked, a young boy was charging through the crowds of Lakeside, slipping between each man and woman in the winter evening with ease. Reynard Tod had evaded the grasping hands and batons of the police and was now drawing away from their angry whistles. He bounded down alleys and streets, pleased as they grew shabbier and poorer with grubby streetlamps and filthy roads, until he reached his house. Jumping down the steps leading to the poor basement apartment, Reynard opened up the door and barreled inside, instantly showing the thin scruffy man inside what he had in his grubby hands as he panted triumphantly. Sighting the small but incredibly valuable gem, Reynard's father broke into a smile and started swinging him about, declaring Reynard was now a member of the Fingers, one of the five guilds of thieves in the Conjoined Kingdoms. Reynard giggled happily, proud his father was so joyous.
Fourteen years from now, the pair would meet under strange circumstances; circumstances that would propel them on a dangerous journey to work together. But not until the boy would be known as The Fox and the girl had witnessed her beloved aunt's murder.