Alizarin Crimson

by Erica Millard

  The pain was so severe, my vision popped with white flashbulbs. Kendra released my hand. The pain halted, but it left me panting. The world was still red, but for the moment the anger was paralyzed. I rolled onto my back. Kendra stood over me, looking horrified.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “H—how did you do that?” My voice shook.

  Kendra put her hand out to help me to my feet. I took it reluctantly, but it didn’t cause pain again.

  “We’re all Talented, you know,” Kendra said quietly. “Are you okay?”

  I stared at her in horror and awe. “I could’ve killed you!”

  “I know. I saw it in your eyes. Let’s get going. The others will wonder where we’ve gone.”

  We found the nearest exit and hit the heat of the parking lot outside. A headache even worse than the one I had at the train station blazed inside my skull, like my brain would disintegrate and ooze out my ears. Even though my moment of panic had passed, the red under my skin screamed to get out. When would I lose control again?

  We arrived at the car at the same time as Cate and Daria.

  “Where’d you guys go?” Cate said. “That smoothie guy was so hot. He asked for my number.”

  “We were bored of watching you flirt,” Kendra said. “Aren’t you with Andy now?”

  “Nothing’s official.” Cate pouted, obviously wanting us to ask her about what the smoothie guy said, but I sure wasn’t in the mood to humor her. Kendra didn’t ask either.

  I thought maybe Kendra would mention what happened, but she didn’t say a word. I was grateful.

  The ride back was silent, except for the occasional annoyed sigh from Cate.

  Which made it awkward when I asked out of the blue, “So, what are your Talents?” The silence deepened for several long moments. “Or you don’t have to tell me?”

  Cate turned to me and waggled her eyebrows. “I don’t mind you knowing, but I like to surprise people the first time they see it.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said.

  Kendra didn’t say anything, but I already knew what her Talent was, kind of.

  “Thanks, guys.” I hopped out of the car when we returned back to Scar Mansion. I couldn’t wait to get back to the seclusion of my room.

  “Hey,” Kendra said jogging up beside me on the brick path to the front door. “How about I meet you at your room, and we can go down to Dechrua together?”

  “That sounds great,” I said. “Thanks . . . for everything.”

  I lay on my bed, staring at my new books about Van Gogh. Van Gogh’s earless self-portrait peered at me from the cover, and I imagined myself without an ear. Man, I was being creepy. Van Gogh’s self-portraits seemed so strong, but the words of his biography revealed how fragile he’d really been. He was virtually unknown during his lifetime, and his constant state of poverty took its toll on his health and familial relationships so that he had to be institutionalized.

  It was hard to concentrate with my head pounding as if it were trying to force the red out of my skull. Never in my life had I been so powerless. Was this what it was like to go mad, to have no control over what you feel and do? Did Van Gogh feel something like this?

  I turned each page, studying the work Van Gogh created. I put myself in each painting or drawing. I imagined myself how Van Gogh would paint me, never softening a line or dimming down my faults. I sat next to him in his self-portraits, I perched on the edge of his bed in his room at the institution. I leaned over his shoulder as he painted the sunflowers or night scenes. My real world mixed with his paint in stunning snakes of thick color, harsh but painfully lovely, and those swirls of pigment somehow seemed more real than anything I’d seen with my eyes.

  A pounding on the door forced me out of unconsciousness.

  “Aya! Are you ready?”

  My head ached and my eyes itched as though they been super-glued shut for days. I fumbled for the door handle.

  Kendra stepped in, dressed sharply as a runway model, with a red pencil skirt and glittering black top. Her spiraling curls and makeup were impeccable.

  “What are you doing?” she said exasperated. “Don’t you know what time it is? You’re not ready?”

  “Sorry! I fell asleep.”

  “You have exactly fifteen minutes to be downstairs.”

  I rubbed my eyes, trying to wake up, and then rummaged in my bag to find my new dress.

  After a moment of silence, Kendra said, “Hey, I’m sorry about what I did today. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  I rubbed my arm where her touch had burned. “I’m glad you did. I could’ve really hurt you . . . .”

  “I haven’t felt it, but those who experience my Release say it’s excruciating.”

  “Yeah, remind me not to make you angry.” I tore the tags off my new dress. “But thanks for being there for me today.”

  “By the way, there is a dance-slash-party after the ceremony, you know, after all the parents leave.”

  “Party? I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Come on! It’ll be fun.”

  “I really don’t think I should.”

  Kendra frowned. “I know finding out you’re an Aolian is a lot to take in, but that doesn’t mean that you have to do it by yourself. One of the reasons we come here is to be with others. Believe me, it’s nice not feel so alone.”

  “I took on so much red today.” I said. “What if I lose control, and hurt someone?”

  “You’re with a bunch of Aolians,” Kendra said. “Chances are you’ll get hurt by someone else. But you can’t hide in this room forever.”

  “I thought it was a good plan,” I mumbled.

  “Well, it’s not. There’ll be cute gu—ys. Come on! Don’t make me beg, because kneeling down would totally rip my outfit. But I will.” She clasped her hands and dramatically pretended to find a way to kneel in her tight skirt.

  “No begging! I can’t handle begging.” I laughed. Maybe going to a party would take my mind off things. “Okay, I’ll come.” I began touching up my makeup. “You seem to know a lot about Aolians.”

  “My mom and grandma are Aolians, so I grew up expecting it.”

  “Must be nice, not waking up one day to have the world completely different.”

  “I’m often jealous of non-Aolians who don’t know about our world.” Kendra sat on the edge of my bed and folded her legs up beneath her. “So . . . did you do that at Grand Central?”

  My throat constricted. “Was it that obvious?”

  Kendra shrugged. “What happened?”

  “I was just on my way here . . . .” I told her the whole story about getting attacked. “I don’t understand, though. No one saw me. Like a cop just walked past,” I said. “Hair up or down?”

  “Down. Maybe they didn’t see you. Those people probably had a Silencer with them.”

  “A Silencer?”

  “It’s a Talent. There are many different kinds. They deaden the senses—sight, sound, touch, taste, and hearing. Some can silence only one sense and others can mask more than one. Some can project on a group of people, some can’t.”

  “It really freaked me out.”

  “Get used to it. I’ve been around Aolians my whole life, and they still freak me out. Are you going to get dressed or what? We’re in a time crunch here.”

  I was ready, but my dress sat next to Kendra on the bed. Why was I so worried about people seeing my skin? Kendra already knew more than anyone else about what’d happened.

  I caught up the cuff of my sleeve and pulled it up to my elbow.

  Kendra gasped. “What’s that?” She reached to touch the red lines, now thick and dark, swirling along my skin. I jerked my arm back, unable to let her touch me.

  Realization dawned on her face. “That bench today? That’s what happened?”

  I nodded. “I can feel it, there, underneath my skin.” I couldn’t believe I showed her, but she didn’t seem to be scared or repulsed.

  E
ven as we watched, the color changed and moved, like slow waves on a beach. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve met a lot of Aolians,” Kendra said. “Why don’t you want anyone to see? It looks so cool.”

  I pulled my sleeve back down over the red. “I just don’t.” I took off my shirt and slid the emerald-green dress over my head. Kendra zipped it up, and I stared in the mirror that hung on the inside of one of the closet doors.

  The dress was perfect with long sleeves and a high collar. The tight bodice flared gently at the waist into the skirt. It was simple and elegant and I loved it.

  I slipped on my leggings and heels. “I don’t think I could pull anything like that off,” I said waving to her pencil skirt and sequined top. “I don’t know how you do.”

  “You mean because I’m fat?” Kendra said.

  I gawked at her. “Of course not!”

  “It really doesn’t bother me, you know. If people don’t want to be my friend because I weigh more than them, that’s their problem.”

  I stared at her, impressed with her candor. “That’s not what I meant at all,” I said. “I just don’t think I have ever worn anything that sparkly in my whole life.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  I laughed. “If you say so. Let’s go.”

  “How did I not know this was back here?” I said as we entered a beautiful courtyard through a set of double French doors. A pool shimmered blue and reflected the azure sky. Ivy dripped from stone archways and stretched across the cobblestone walks. In the distance, dense trees obscured what lay beyond.

  “Next time, you should check out the brochure before you make a summer-long reservation,” Kendra said.

  “I’ll try to remember that.”

  Beyond the pool was a wide open, grassy knoll with three hundred or so chairs set up in front of a temporary stage. Perfectly trimmed lawns pushed against flowerbeds that were wild and manicured at the same time. Adults and students alike chatted and greeted each other like old friends, hugging and finding seats. Scott, the guy who had picked me up from the train station, stood at the entrance, checking names off a clipboard and looking grumpy.

  Scott squinted at me and made another check on the list. I slid past him but he stopped me.

  “How has your first day been?” he asked. His gaze continued to dart around to all the entering guests and students.

  I shrugged. “Fine.”

  He nodded and finally looked at my face. “Just be careful, okay?” He seemed like he meant it.

  “I will,” I said.

  “There are my parents! Come on.” Kendra pulled me over to a group near the stage. “Aya, this is my grandmother, my mom, and my dad.” She hugged a tiny woman with wrinkles covering her face, and I could instantly see where Kendra got her fashion sense. All four of them were impeccably dressed, but her grandmother outshined them all in a pink, sleeveless dress that looked lovely against her dark skin.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Aya,” Kendra’s mother said, hugging her daughter. “It’s time you girls went and sat down.”

  “We sit in the front,” Kendra said, and we found seats with our names on them, along with a program. Unfortunately, we weren’t together, and I didn’t know the students on either side of me. Kendra turned and winked at me as Leslie rose and approached the microphone, and I grinned back at her.

  “Welcome, everyone,” Leslie said, and the talking crowd quieted. Behind her on a giant screen, a massive dragon blew fire, and I recognized it from our textbook as the symbol of all Aolians. “Tonight we celebrate Dechrua. For new Aolians, it marks a beginning. For some it’s another step in their journey. And for others who are done with this place, it is a move to their own new beginnings. This ceremony has been held every year for the last sixty years. Dechrua takes place in many countries across the world in an attempt to include and accept all Aolians and provide a safe place for them to learn about their powers, history, and duty. Tonight, we are fortunate enough to have with us ten members of the Aolian Council.”

  “Ten?” the girl behind me murmured. “I’ve never seen so many of the council at a Dechrua.”

  “Max Muller from Germany,” Leslie said. A fit man in his forties, in a gray suit stood and bowed. “Riya Bal from India.” A beautiful woman in a stunning red sari inclined her head.

  Leslie introduced all ten, from all over the world, from Africa to the Philippines. Seeing them up there, some in suits and others in native dress, I realized how big this was. Aolians weren’t just in New York City or Connecticut; they were everywhere. Leslie introduced the last Council Member as Peter Nkrumah from Ghana, the keynote speaker.

  He stood and approached the microphone in pressed white linen pants and an orange tunic that reached his knees. Elaborate embroidery was sewn down the center of his shirt in geometric patterns.

  “Thank you,” he said to Leslie, in a deep, melodious voice. His accent was soothing and musical and powerful. “Tonight it falls to me to welcome the newest Aolians in our Dechrua ceremony. With Dechrua, we celebrate the union of Aolians across the globe. For thousands of years, Aolians contended not only with the humans who feared us, but we fought also against ourselves. So much Aolian blood was spilt in squabbles with each other. We were not unified. It wasn’t until Aolians almost destroyed the planet, humans and Aolians alike, in the last world war that we realized we needed peace just as much as the humans did.”

  Aolians added to World War II? From what I’d seen of myself, humans had every right to fear us. Why did he talk about them as if we weren’t a part of them? Weren’t we still technically human?

  “So the council was created,” he continued, “a brilliant meshing of hundreds of languages, cultures, and abilities. This peace has allowed Aolians to flourish within our own communities. Our abilities have gotten stronger with our mentoring program. Today is Dechrua, the beginning. For the new Aolians it symbolizes entering this world, this community, and this life. For those who still work toward mastering their abilities, it is still the beginning. Each day, we start again, and choose what we will do, what we will be. That choosing determines our destiny.”

  He stopped then, and his gazed flickered over those of us in the front row. “We created the council and structured institutions, like this one, where Aolians can learn to control their Talents. Aolians are now a worldwide organization.”

  He gave Leslie a nod over his shoulder, and Leslie flipped a white cloth off the table.

  “Aolians have long since had symbols attached to their powers. Often people worshiped us as gods or killed us as devils. These symbols have filtered through cultures and been framed with new meanings. But we remember. Certain Talents have thrived in specific cultures and geographic locations. We have taken these symbols from across the world, from their countries of origin and created a global education system, using our own history as a base.”

  “We speak many languages, have diverse cultures and backgrounds, but we are all united as Aolians. Every new Aolian receives this,” he reached down and removed a glistening metal band from the table, “when they come into their powers. As they master the many facets of their Talent, symbols are etched into this cuff. Tonight the new Aolians will become a part of the united whole.”

  9

  I don’t invent the whole of painting; on the contrary, I find it ready-made—but to be untangled—in the real world.

  —Vincent van Gogh

  The audience erupted into cheers. Councilor Nkrumah flashed a brilliant smile and said, “Let us begin!”

  The crowd cheered again and Councilor Nkrumah took his seat.

  “Now to bestow the cuffs,” Leslie said into the microphone, “Silvina Luna from Argentina. Initiates, please stand.”

  The boy and girl on either side of me stood, and I woodenly joined them.

  A short woman with dark skin and bright blue eyes stepped forward and read the first name. “Rachel Kipling, Animantic.” The screen behind the woman changed from the image of a dragon to that of a li
on. The pixie-like girl with a pale face moved forward and held out her arm. The councilwoman snapped on a silver cuff bracelet.

  “Jeremy South, Medici.” A tall boy with olive skin crossed the stage. The screen behind him flickered and the symbol switched to the outline of a hand with a swirl turning into its depths.

  “Crystal Schofield, Rokas.” The symbol switched to a volcano erupting.

  I was almost at the end of the line, and we turned so I could no longer see the people or the symbols.

  There were fifteen of us, new to this world. I stumbled as I took one of the stairs up to the platform. The lights here were too bright and obscured the audience.

  “Ayami Lore, Colorist,” Leslie said. The faces of all the council members swiveled toward me. I took several shaky steps forward toward Leslie, whose smile was the only thing that kept me moving. I raised my right arm, and Leslie snapped on the thick, metal cuff over the tight sleeve of my dress. I looked at the screen behind us to see what my symbol was.

  The thick line of the circle was divided like a color wheel, within the circle was the hexagon, and within the hexagon was a triangle, and the triangle was further divided into three. The triangle contained red, yellow and blue and pointed to the corresponding colors on the color wheel. The negative space left by the triangle within the hexagon were the tertiary colors: orange, purple, and green. A colorless version was etched into the center of my cuff.

  I crossed to the other side of the stage, passing the council members. Each bowed their head toward me in a way I didn’t remember them doing to the ones who came before. Perhaps they knew my father. I stepped out of the light, and my legs shook so badly walking down the stairs, I had to grab hold of the railing to keep from falling. Maybe heels weren’t the best idea. I found my seat, and Kendra gave me another wink.

  I stared down at the silver on my wrist. This one didn’t slide around like my father’s but was comfortably tight. Liam worked with metal; maybe he could adjust my father’s to fit me.