“It’s time to wake up,” said the man, his voice husky yet caressingly smooth, and the words bore a faint northern accent, hinting at his untamed soul and distinguished origin.
Amaris lay on his side, his elbow and upper arm sinking into the sheets as he propped his head on his fist and knuckles rested under his temple. His short undone hair fell disheveledly into his clean forehead, silver strands reflecting the morning rays, making him appear younger and less fatal. His nightwear, thin royal blue linen shirt and trousers, looked fascinating against his pale glowing skin, and his half-exposed chest protruded with muscles of a warrior, fierce yet tantalizing. He was but a fine specimen worthy of the clamor of the ladies and their undying obsessions.
His voice stirred the tiny creature slumbering beside him as the white fox burrowed its snout deeper into its front paws, shying away from the assaulting sunlight and protesting against the man’s words.
It was precisely a round snowy fluff of fur, and the grand duke’s throaty chuckle rumbled, pleased by the sight.
“Child, are you aware you have shifted to your fox yet again?” His other hand reached and lifted the tiny paw burying the fox’s eyes.
Seraphina’s ears twitched, and her heavy eyelids slowly blinked open, revealing a pair of stirring golden orbs shimmering with brilliance. Her upturned misty doe eyes rested on the man as if appreciating the delight of his beauty and then shifted to her paws.
Tsk tsk, at this rate, I will become immune to males’ charm, Seraphina amused as she raised her slender pointy muzzle and stretched heartily by arching her back flexibly and straightening and extending her claws all the way out. When she yawned, her teeth band boasted pearly white sharp and shapely incisors and canines and premolars and molars, and the long pink tongue twisted flowingly. Her action was undoubtedly unladylike but queerly presented with elegance.
“Good girl,” Amaris teased the little fox, admiring the other's unbridled and wild bearing.
“Daddy, I am essentially a fox. And foxes are nocturnal,” she whined soulfully.
“At the same time, you are the young lady of the house. Besides, as far as I am informed, they are classified nocturnal because they hunt at night, and you, my princess, are no huntress,” he rubbed his daughter’s head endearingly and rose.
“I will send in Julia. Get ready, and after breakfast, we will depart. We will reach the castle before evening,” the grand duke’s lips, slightly chillier than hers, were pressed on between Seraphina’s brows, carrying the man’s tenderness and doting, and he took his leave.
The door closed, and the sprawled little fox rose to a sitting position, and the previous laziness and sleepy countenance vanished as her eyes burnt with clarity, wit, and caution. Seraphina effortlessly shifted to her human form, her delicate brows scrunched up gravely, and plumb lips flattened into a line.
Each day, it’s becoming increasingly apparent and hard to ignore. This pull… the call… and the dream.
A month has passed since the grand duke’s notorious disruption of the high court. The prime minister, a man priorly proclaimed as the noble sire of the empire, was now but a beacon of a clown as the scars never faded, much less healed despite the Shelons’ unrelenting efforts, and the imperial princess and the young nine-tailed fox separated not on the best of terms. However, both children were wise to understand that when fate brought them together once again, they would embrace each other with the hearts of two bodies of one soul because the bond they had nurtured in the short span of a month was extraordinary and spiritual.
Not long after that day, the Callensos departed to the north as the capital was but a vile whirlwind of conspiracy and gossip that neither his grace nor his children bothered to entertain. From then on, Seraphina started to feel the abnormalities.
The first time she had felt this strange urge and connection was a month ago when she had passed through the first portal to the north. Uncannily, the closer she was to the northern castle, the stronger it pulled and called for me. At first, it had been significantly faint and vague, but soon the dreams had started invading, and she would unconsciously shift in her sleep. Frustrated her tremendously was that recalling those dreams proved vain as the efforts would only grant splitting headaches. In the mornings, after each rouse, she could roughly remember standing in front of something or someone, but as for whom and where, none were lucid. This feeling of being marked, haunted, and, above all, desperately needed, yet unaware of its source and cause, made her fidgety and anxious. Seraphina’s intuition and her being an ancient divine beast were screaming that time was running out. But, whose time that was, yet again, was obscure and to be determined.
A knock came, and the clanking sound of Julia’s prosthetic leg entered the room.
… The little girl stood on a high ground of the mountainous terrain, her gaze resting upon the heart of the north far beyond her reach yet within her palm. The low air pressure made one breathless and the heart thumping madly, but the child did not seem to find it intolerable as she was arrested by the scenery filling her sight. The wind howled at her ears, its currents slapped her tender cheeks, and her glaring curly locks were mussed up thoroughly by its ferocity. Still, the child’s stirring golden irises were serene with poise, and the tiny clusters of bells on her head jingled in harmony. In the eyes of the beholder, her very being was heavenly that it birthed a fear that she would evanesce in a blink of a moment.
“Don’t be sad. It’s not that bad when you start living here,” a boy with honey-brown locks muttered placatingly, his calloused fingers shoving the dancing red strands out of the girl’s face.
His stature was far bulkier and taller than the little girl’s, and his stubbornness to shield her from the feisty gale refused to waver despite the frigid air whipping his back viciously.
“Why do you believe I am sad?” Seraphina questioned back chucklingly, but her eyes did not tear away from the horizon.
“Tsk, says the child on the verge of crying,” Aegaeon flicked the little girl’s moist lashes, forcing the welled tear to drip down her flushed cheek.
“It’s the wind,” the gale swallowed her giggle.
My dear brother, it’s not sadness that’s welling up in my eyes but regrets. In my previous life, the northern capital was never a home to me. I loathed its vulgarities, bloody slaughters, and bitter biting winters that I would only visit during the summers. The sight of children running around wielding wooden toy swords with snots smeared on their dirty little faces, men working with bare chests, dirt and stain covering their backs, and women void of glamour and silk and jewels felt unbearably uncouth and obnoxious. Compared to the flourishing capital, where even the whore houses flaunted class and elegance, this place was frustratingly suffocating.
“Brother Aegaeon, the capital is indeed dazzlingly beautiful, but not in its entirety. The center of it lies the imperial palace, surrounded by the estates of the influential and streets full of mystique with irresistible allure. Even the breeze carries the fragrant scent of debauchery there. However, the farther it stretches from the center, you will see the ugliness it hides beneath its radiance. Common people struggle every day to feed their young, the dark alleys echo pleads and screams of weeping women and grunts of men from forced pleasures, and famished children steal in spite of the awareness that being caught would cost them beatings that would leave them for the better a cripple and worse a dead.”
“How do you know so much?” Aegaeon’s breezy smile was gone as he gently pinched the child’s chin and turned her head towards him, and his golden orbs held lurking darkness threatening to spill.
“Easy, brother. It’s not what you are thinking. Mother never hurt or starved me. Besides, we lived far from the capital, in a small secluded town,” Seraphina explained.
“Then how do you know all those things?”
“Accidentally came across,” she brushed off before continuing,
“What I mean is that, compared to the imperial capital, I find the northern capital more to my liking because I don’t have to face such rotten endeavors here. I’m grateful that it’s my home now.”
“That’s true,” nodded the second young master.
“Let’s go back, brother. Father and others must have reached the fort gate by now,” the little girl threw one last glance at the looming city full of bustling life and reached out a hand to her elder brother.
The two’s hands held each other, and a sudden numbing ache assaulted Seraphina’s chest, and her sharp gasp fell. Before she could catch her breath, her feet left the ground as two strong arms enveloped her steadily. The young boy held his little sister in an alarm and checked on her in a fluster. His aura burst forth and formed a shield around them.
“What’s wrong,” he pressed, his heroic brows wrinkled up.
“I’m fine, brother. Just lost a footing,” Seraphina chose to hide the truth.
The second young master narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the other for the deception. Though he could tell the child was speaking the untruth, he did not wish to pressure or force her in any form in the slightest.
“It’s because you don’t eat enough meat that your legs lack muscles,” he chastised the little girl and started marching downhill with the child still in his embrace.
“Ah, brother, are you carrying me all the way back?” Her unbelieving voice dropped.
“Why not?” He shot back.
“I doubt we’ll descend before noon,” complained Seraphina, and she called out,
“Ratuna.”
The merged shadow of the two children instantly deepened and spread across the rocky terrain, forming a massive inky hole. From its depth, a black beast rose, its golden eyes blazing, claws stretching, and wings unfolding, and it stood proud in front of the brother and sister pair.
“How?” Aegaeon’s baffled murmur blessed Seraphina’s ears.
“Brother, did you seriously believe that daddy would let me go alone?” Her titter was but haughty as she jumped out from the other’s arms, mounted the shadow lion in a fluid leap, and patted the back of the beast while gesturing her brother to follow suit.
“I’m in the front,” trumpeted the boy, eyes gleaming with excitement and thrill, and he was on Ratuna’s back in a suave effortless spring.
Seraphina chuckled aloud, finding the other’s apparent childishness vibrant and novel, and her short chubby arms encircled the boy’s lean waist firmly as the trio ascended to the clouds, relishing in the weightlessness.
Seraphina planted her face on Aegaeon’s warm back vibrating valiantly with his hearty laughter and thumping heartbeat, and finally, her face shed off the delight and excitement.
Who are you, she asked in her consciousness, praying that the voice would answer her call.
To her disappointment, however, only silence replied, and a mute sigh left Seraphina’s lips. In fact, when she held Aegaeon’s hand a moment ago, a voice fell inside her head, female, despairing, and enervated, and the same pull intensified dozens of times, crushing her chest. Please help me, was all she heard, and the voice faded away once more, leaving Seraphina to ponder alone.
At the fort gate, rows of black stood gallantly as their armors shone in dark luster and swords, though sheathed, reverberated heart trembling revere and their postures upright and intimidatingly assertive, honed with years of drill, combat, and bloodshed. They stood still like unbending cold stones, forming two divisions, each at one side of the fort gate, creating a path for the grand duke and his entourage to pass through and welcoming their masters in awe-aspiring loyalty.
Amaris sat on his steed, leading the entourage, and followed him were his sons, Ihan and Deimos. Behind them reposed a carriage, conspicuously opulent with protection arrays carved on its body and embedded with monster core stones glimmering with mana. The vassals and servants, who accompanied their lord to the capital, were left at the far back of the line, plainly indicating the importance of the occupant inside the carriage.
At once, the knights realized the identity of the noble being inside the carriage, and they could not help their giddiness. After more than a century, finally, these blood-thirsty men were blessed with the honor of serving a young lady of the house. The grand duke and his sons, each more powerful than the other, in fact, did not need anyone’s protection, including the knights of House Callenso. The black armored men fought monsters, beasts, and invaders under the lead of the northern king and were glorified and horrified by the empire as the black platoon of the north. However, as pledged knights, their untold reverie was to escort their masters and be their shields and swords. Unfortunately, the men of this family never brought along knights during their outings, and none cared to understand the meaning of escort and company, much less the tradition of choosing a personal knight. Within this hoard of men, only the commander had experienced the epitome of the knighthood as he was the late grand duchess’s personal knight and a blood brother. Therefore, the news of Seraphina’s appearance was much celebrated and anticipated by these folks.
The men straightened their backs, sharpened their eyes, and stretched their ears as the entourage drew closer. Against their bated breaths, before their chorus of salute thunder, the grand duke raised a hand, halted the troop, and remained stationary. His ceasing movement as if to anticipate another’s arrival bemused the bunch, but none dared to question. As the tension built with nothing but a whistling breeze to dampen the silence, a shadow passed above the black sea and, from the clouds, dived a humongous beast before landing beside the grand duke. Its’ body glimmered with pulsating golden energy veins, and ferocious eyes scanned the surroundings before folding its mighty wings. As soon as the beast reclined, a boy leaped down, his arms occupied, and marched toward the grand duke, and the man smiled.
Shivers ravaged the knights’ spines. The unseen gentleness of the man was the first to grace their eyes, and the realization that Ratuna, the winged shadow lion, was mounted by another drummed their hearts in terror as even the grand duke himself has rarely ever ascended the fearsome beast.
“Are you cold?” Amaris voiced amidst the turbulence as he took the child in his arms and sat her down at his front.
“Fret not, daddy. No fire will burn me unless it’s dragon’s, and no cold can chill me as I have flames blazing inside of me,” the words were profound, yet the voice was stickily sweet and squeamish in nature.
As the little cloaked figure raised its head to face the man, her hood draped down, exposing flaring crimson curls and devastating golden eyes. Feeling the scorching gazes on her tiny self, she turned her head, eyes resting on the steel-boned black platoon of the north, dainty hands waved towards the scar-ridden men, and her mirthful laughter dyed the northern summer day in melody and rainbow.
“It’s time to wake up,” said the man, his voice husky yet caressingly smooth, and the words bore a faint northern accent, hinting at his untamed soul and distinguished origin.
Amaris lay on his side, his elbow and upper arm sinking into the sheets as he propped his head on his fist and knuckles rested under his temple. His short undone hair fell disheveledly into his clean forehead, silver strands reflecting the morning rays, making him appear younger and less fatal. His nightwear, thin royal blue linen shirt and trousers, looked fascinating against his pale glowing skin, and his half-exposed chest protruded with muscles of a warrior, fierce yet tantalizing. He was but a fine specimen worthy of the clamor of the ladies and their undying obsessions.
His voice stirred the tiny creature slumbering beside him as the white fox burrowed its snout deeper into its front paws, shying away from the assaulting sunlight and protesting against the man’s words.
It was precisely a round snowy fluff of fur, and the grand duke’s throaty chuckle rumbled, pleased by the sight.
“Child, are you aware you have shifted to your fox yet again?” His other hand reached and lifted the tiny paw burying the fox’s eyes.
Seraphina’s ears twitched, and her heavy eyelids slowly blinked open, revealing a pair of stirring golden orbs shimmering with brilliance. Her upturned misty doe eyes rested on the man as if appreciating the delight of his beauty and then shifted to her paws.
Tsk tsk, at this rate, I will become immune to males’ charm, Seraphina amused as she raised her slender pointy muzzle and stretched heartily by arching her back flexibly and straightening and extending her claws all the way out. When she yawned, her teeth band boasted pearly white sharp and shapely incisors and canines and premolars and molars, and the long pink tongue twisted flowingly. Her action was undoubtedly unladylike but queerly presented with elegance.
“Good girl,” Amaris teased the little fox, admiring the other's unbridled and wild bearing.
“Daddy, I am essentially a fox. And foxes are nocturnal,” she whined soulfully.
“At the same time, you are the young lady of the house. Besides, as far as I am informed, they are classified nocturnal because they hunt at night, and you, my princess, are no huntress,” he rubbed his daughter’s head endearingly and rose.
“I will send in Julia. Get ready, and after breakfast, we will depart. We will reach the castle before evening,” the grand duke’s lips, slightly chillier than hers, were pressed on between Seraphina’s brows, carrying the man’s tenderness and doting, and he took his leave.
The door closed, and the sprawled little fox rose to a sitting position, and the previous laziness and sleepy countenance vanished as her eyes burnt with clarity, wit, and caution. Seraphina effortlessly shifted to her human form, her delicate brows scrunched up gravely, and plumb lips flattened into a line.
Each day, it’s becoming increasingly apparent and hard to ignore. This pull… the call… and the dream.
A month has passed since the grand duke’s notorious disruption of the high court. The prime minister, a man priorly proclaimed as the noble sire of the empire, was now but a beacon of a clown as the scars never faded, much less healed despite the Shelons’ unrelenting efforts, and the imperial princess and the young nine-tailed fox separated not on the best of terms. However, both children were wise to understand that when fate brought them together once again, they would embrace each other with the hearts of two bodies of one soul because the bond they had nurtured in the short span of a month was extraordinary and spiritual.
Not long after that day, the Callensos departed to the north as the capital was but a vile whirlwind of conspiracy and gossip that neither his grace nor his children bothered to entertain. From then on, Seraphina started to feel the abnormalities.
The first time she had felt this strange urge and connection was a month ago when she had passed through the first portal to the north. Uncannily, the closer she was to the northern castle, the stronger it pulled and called for me. At first, it had been significantly faint and vague, but soon the dreams had started invading, and she would unconsciously shift in her sleep. Frustrated her tremendously was that recalling those dreams proved vain as the efforts would only grant splitting headaches. In the mornings, after each rouse, she could roughly remember standing in front of something or someone, but as for whom and where, none were lucid. This feeling of being marked, haunted, and, above all, desperately needed, yet unaware of its source and cause, made her fidgety and anxious. Seraphina’s intuition and her being an ancient divine beast were screaming that time was running out. But, whose time that was, yet again, was obscure and to be determined.
A knock came, and the clanking sound of Julia’s prosthetic leg entered the room.
… The little girl stood on a high ground of the mountainous terrain, her gaze resting upon the heart of the north far beyond her reach yet within her palm. The low air pressure made one breathless and the heart thumping madly, but the child did not seem to find it intolerable as she was arrested by the scenery filling her sight. The wind howled at her ears, its currents slapped her tender cheeks, and her glaring curly locks were mussed up thoroughly by its ferocity. Still, the child’s stirring golden irises were serene with poise, and the tiny clusters of bells on her head jingled in harmony. In the eyes of the beholder, her very being was heavenly that it birthed a fear that she would evanesce in a blink of a moment.
“Don’t be sad. It’s not that bad when you start living here,” a boy with honey-brown locks muttered placatingly, his calloused fingers shoving the dancing red strands out of the girl’s face.
His stature was far bulkier and taller than the little girl’s, and his stubbornness to shield her from the feisty gale refused to waver despite the frigid air whipping his back viciously.
“Why do you believe I am sad?” Seraphina questioned back chucklingly, but her eyes did not tear away from the horizon.
“Tsk, says the child on the verge of crying,” Aegaeon flicked the little girl’s moist lashes, forcing the welled tear to drip down her flushed cheek.
“It’s the wind,” the gale swallowed her giggle.
My dear brother, it’s not sadness that’s welling up in my eyes but regrets. In my previous life, the northern capital was never a home to me. I loathed its vulgarities, bloody slaughters, and bitter biting winters that I would only visit during the summers. The sight of children running around wielding wooden toy swords with snots smeared on their dirty little faces, men working with bare chests, dirt and stain covering their backs, and women void of glamour and silk and jewels felt unbearably uncouth and obnoxious. Compared to the flourishing capital, where even the whore houses flaunted class and elegance, this place was frustratingly suffocating.
“Brother Aegaeon, the capital is indeed dazzlingly beautiful, but not in its entirety. The center of it lies the imperial palace, surrounded by the estates of the influential and streets full of mystique with irresistible allure. Even the breeze carries the fragrant scent of debauchery there. However, the farther it stretches from the center, you will see the ugliness it hides beneath its radiance. Common people struggle every day to feed their young, the dark alleys echo pleads and screams of weeping women and grunts of men from forced pleasures, and famished children steal in spite of the awareness that being caught would cost them beatings that would leave them for the better a cripple and worse a dead.”
“How do you know so much?” Aegaeon’s breezy smile was gone as he gently pinched the child’s chin and turned her head towards him, and his golden orbs held lurking darkness threatening to spill.
“Easy, brother. It’s not what you are thinking. Mother never hurt or starved me. Besides, we lived far from the capital, in a small secluded town,” Seraphina explained.
“Then how do you know all those things?”
“Accidentally came across,” she brushed off before continuing,
“What I mean is that, compared to the imperial capital, I find the northern capital more to my liking because I don’t have to face such rotten endeavors here. I’m grateful that it’s my home now.”
“That’s true,” nodded the second young master.
“Let’s go back, brother. Father and others must have reached the fort gate by now,” the little girl threw one last glance at the looming city full of bustling life and reached out a hand to her elder brother.
The two’s hands held each other, and a sudden numbing ache assaulted Seraphina’s chest, and her sharp gasp fell. Before she could catch her breath, her feet left the ground as two strong arms enveloped her steadily. The young boy held his little sister in an alarm and checked on her in a fluster. His aura burst forth and formed a shield around them.
“What’s wrong,” he pressed, his heroic brows wrinkled up.
“I’m fine, brother. Just lost a footing,” Seraphina chose to hide the truth.
The second young master narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the other for the deception. Though he could tell the child was speaking the untruth, he did not wish to pressure or force her in any form in the slightest.
“It’s because you don’t eat enough meat that your legs lack muscles,” he chastised the little girl and started marching downhill with the child still in his embrace.
“Ah, brother, are you carrying me all the way back?” Her unbelieving voice dropped.
“Why not?” He shot back.
“I doubt we’ll descend before noon,” complained Seraphina, and she called out,
“Ratuna.”
The merged shadow of the two children instantly deepened and spread across the rocky terrain, forming a massive inky hole. From its depth, a black beast rose, its golden eyes blazing, claws stretching, and wings unfolding, and it stood proud in front of the brother and sister pair.
“How?” Aegaeon’s baffled murmur blessed Seraphina’s ears.
“Brother, did you seriously believe that daddy would let me go alone?” Her titter was but haughty as she jumped out from the other’s arms, mounted the shadow lion in a fluid leap, and patted the back of the beast while gesturing her brother to follow suit.
“I’m in the front,” trumpeted the boy, eyes gleaming with excitement and thrill, and he was on Ratuna’s back in a suave effortless spring.
Seraphina chuckled aloud, finding the other’s apparent childishness vibrant and novel, and her short chubby arms encircled the boy’s lean waist firmly as the trio ascended to the clouds, relishing in the weightlessness.
Seraphina planted her face on Aegaeon’s warm back vibrating valiantly with his hearty laughter and thumping heartbeat, and finally, her face shed off the delight and excitement.
Who are you, she asked in her consciousness, praying that the voice would answer her call.
To her disappointment, however, only silence replied, and a mute sigh left Seraphina’s lips. In fact, when she held Aegaeon’s hand a moment ago, a voice fell inside her head, female, despairing, and enervated, and the same pull intensified dozens of times, crushing her chest. Please help me, was all she heard, and the voice faded away once more, leaving Seraphina to ponder alone.
At the fort gate, rows of black stood gallantly as their armors shone in dark luster and swords, though sheathed, reverberated heart trembling revere and their postures upright and intimidatingly assertive, honed with years of drill, combat, and bloodshed. They stood still like unbending cold stones, forming two divisions, each at one side of the fort gate, creating a path for the grand duke and his entourage to pass through and welcoming their masters in awe-aspiring loyalty.
Amaris sat on his steed, leading the entourage, and followed him were his sons, Ihan and Deimos. Behind them reposed a carriage, conspicuously opulent with protection arrays carved on its body and embedded with monster core stones glimmering with mana. The vassals and servants, who accompanied their lord to the capital, were left at the far back of the line, plainly indicating the importance of the occupant inside the carriage.
At once, the knights realized the identity of the noble being inside the carriage, and they could not help their giddiness. After more than a century, finally, these blood-thirsty men were blessed with the honor of serving a young lady of the house. The grand duke and his sons, each more powerful than the other, in fact, did not need anyone’s protection, including the knights of House Callenso. The black armored men fought monsters, beasts, and invaders under the lead of the northern king and were glorified and horrified by the empire as the black platoon of the north. However, as pledged knights, their untold reverie was to escort their masters and be their shields and swords. Unfortunately, the men of this family never brought along knights during their outings, and none cared to understand the meaning of escort and company, much less the tradition of choosing a personal knight. Within this hoard of men, only the commander had experienced the epitome of the knighthood as he was the late grand duchess’s personal knight and a blood brother. Therefore, the news of Seraphina’s appearance was much celebrated and anticipated by these folks.
The men straightened their backs, sharpened their eyes, and stretched their ears as the entourage drew closer. Against their bated breaths, before their chorus of salute thunder, the grand duke raised a hand, halted the troop, and remained stationary. His ceasing movement as if to anticipate another’s arrival bemused the bunch, but none dared to question. As the tension built with nothing but a whistling breeze to dampen the silence, a shadow passed above the black sea and, from the clouds, dived a humongous beast before landing beside the grand duke. Its’ body glimmered with pulsating golden energy veins, and ferocious eyes scanned the surroundings before folding its mighty wings. As soon as the beast reclined, a boy leaped down, his arms occupied, and marched toward the grand duke, and the man smiled.
Shivers ravaged the knights’ spines. The unseen gentleness of the man was the first to grace their eyes, and the realization that Ratuna, the winged shadow lion, was mounted by another drummed their hearts in terror as even the grand duke himself has rarely ever ascended the fearsome beast.
“Are you cold?” Amaris voiced amidst the turbulence as he took the child in his arms and sat her down at his front.
“Fret not, daddy. No fire will burn me unless it’s dragon’s, and no cold can chill me as I have flames blazing inside of me,” the words were profound, yet the voice was stickily sweet and squeamish in nature.
As the little cloaked figure raised its head to face the man, her hood draped down, exposing flaring crimson curls and devastating golden eyes. Feeling the scorching gazes on her tiny self, she turned her head, eyes resting on the steel-boned black platoon of the north, dainty hands waved towards the scar-ridden men, and her mirthful laughter dyed the northern summer day in melody and rainbow.
