by s. Behr
Despite the temptation to let go, Lily’s face flashed in my mind. “There is still hope.” I whispered, “There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t.” He sounded so far away. “Try.”
“You make it sound like I don’t. It’s all I do. You’ve seen me try and fail a thousand times!” I cried.
“I have also seen you succeed.”
“Really? You call what I did this morning a success?” I screamed inside.
“No, but one moment of your life, no matter how bad, does not define you!” he argued.
“My father was more than a moment…” My words faded like sand into the river as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force the memory away.
“You can do this,” he said, ignoring my rant.
“How can you say that? You’re part of my brain. I know what I’m capable of; you should know even better.”
“I do know better, and you can do this because you have to. Please.”
“I wish you came with an off switch,” I muttered aloud.
“No, you don’t.”
My mind and voice was silent, knowing he was right. I didn’t care how crazy it made me, I would never wish for a life without his voice.
“You can get yourself out of this, and you need to do it now,” he urged again.
The river had reached my shoulders, and even when I pushed up to the tips of my toes, I could no longer get my chest above water. Another rush and I would be under again.
I thought about how easy this would be for my father; he could turn a twig into a bridge a hundred feet long. Tears escaped me as I remembered what he said to me at dinner last night. “All humans have the ability to accomplish our greatest purpose, to do our best for those who need it the most. It is our family’s greatest purpose and our heaviest burden. But we must always try to do what we can even when we think it’s impossible. Because it’s the right thing to do.”
I blew out a breath, keeping my eyes fixed on the tiny roots. I thought through all the steps connecting me to the energy in the space between my chosen object and me—that root that has been just out of reach. I channeled my inner Lily and tried to think positively. “I wouldn’t even have to make it grow much. But if I can’t get it to grow even an inch, then I definitely deserve to die.”
“That is not funny.”
“Glad you’re still paying attention.” My lips pressed together as I concentrated on what I had to do.
“Focus.” His tone was gentle, and I obeyed, my gaze sharpened and staring down my target.
This should’ve been easy. For most of the people of Neyr it probably was, but using my abilities had always been underwhelming until this morning when it became unpredictable. I pushed the self-doubt into a box in my mind and took a deep breath.
“Start with the basics,” he encouraged. “From beginning to end, think it through.”
“Thanks, coach.” I chewed on my bottom lip. I had all the ingredients I needed to conjure photosynthesis: carbon dioxide, water, sunlight. My energy just needed to isolate them, build a bridge between them, then charge all the ingredients together to create growth at an unnatural speed. The first class I took when I was five years old, the professor made it sound easy enough, but after years of failures, I didn’t know what to expect, and I shivered, this time because of fear, not the cold water.
As I made my first attempt, the force of the water churning around me should have been a great source of energy to tap into, but instead, it only seemed to be wearing me down. There was no shimmer of power, no hint of new growth, and as usual, I didn’t know what I was doing wrong.
Water slapped the back of my head over and over, like a clock reminding me my time was winding down. Exhausted, I closed my eyes and reached with outstretched fingers one more time. “It’s now or never,” I whispered.
With nothing to lose, I focused everything I was—all my love, all my hate, all my shame—into one last effort. My entire being surged with the last of my strength. All I had left to give was thrown in the direction of those tree roots, hoping it would work.
“It’s either there, or it’s not.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself, my imagination, or the tree.
“Open your eyes and find out,” he suggested.
“Holly berries!” I exclaimed, nearly losing my grip. The roots had grown not just an inch, but so long the end disappeared into the water. “I can’t believe it,” I said on an exhalation of breath, wrapping my fingers around the new and pliable roots. I tugged hard to test their strength. The first few feet came up through the dirt, but when I yanked again, the rest of it stayed buried deep in the ground attached to the tree several feet off the shore.
“I did it,” I whispered.
“I had no doubts.”
“I did. Tons.” I said as my teeth chattered.
“Time to go,” he encouraged, his voice fading.
Thoughts of being on solid ground spiked a surge of adrenaline that coursed through me. Wasting no more time, I knotted a loop around my wrist. With both hands, I tightened my grip and let go of the tiny island. With one hand over the other, I inched my way out of the vicious grip of the current. The shore seemed hours out of my reach as the muscles in my arms burned and shook but miraculously did not give out. Finally, I felt the hard-packed clay beneath me, and I crawled a few dozen feet farther, collapsing face first in the dirt.
Rolling over onto my back, I let the rain wash over me. I curled into myself and let every emotion pour out in waves. I screamed. I cried. I lay there in the rain until there was nothing left, and I faded into a world of darkness and dreams.
“Good morning, Violet.” Her voice was like springtime, full of light and happiness.
“Good morning, Mother.” I smiled.
The dawn had fully risen above the horizon, making my room bright and breezy, the warm flowery scent of the impending summer lingered on the wind as it drifted through my window. My head was still sore after Ameli, who was my governess by title, and stylist by trade, had just left after several excruciating hours of primping me, getting me ready for the Criterion. “Breaking news. Prince Leo of the Phoenix Realm has just announced his intention to enter the next candidate class of Elder trials. After today’s Criterion, will the elusive Princess Violet of Neyr be next? This is Crest Ryans reporting live from the King’s Palace in Hattan City.”
“Screen off,” my mother commanded, and the broadcast faded back into the wall disappearing from view. I had grown so used to tuning out the sound of any reports I had not even realized the feed was still streaming. “Seems like I will have to have another chat with Ameli,” my mother said with a tense smile.
“You know how she loves the gossip feeds. Ameli says she does her best work with it on and you also know I’m not always her favorite person to style,” I offered in Ameli’s defense. She was like an older sister on some days and an evil stepmother out of an ancient fairytale on others. But keeping her happy kept more hair on my head than what would end up tangled in a brush if she was in one of her moods.
“I know you love her, we all do, but today is not the day for you to be distracted,” Mother replied as she crossed the room carrying a small tray.
Fastening the last button on my uniform, I turned just as she set the tray on a table by the window. The corners of my lips tugged into a grin. No matter how busy she was, my mother always found a way to start my day with a cup of velvety chocolate. In the winter, it was usually warm with frothed cream and a drizzle of salted caramel, in the fall it was covered with a baked, flaky crust and laced with pumpkin spice. In the spring, she brought a white chocolate concoction with bits of mint floating throughout. But since it was summer, the chocolate was poured over ice and had mounds of berries floating on top of a healthy mountain of almond whipped cream.
“Did you sleep well, Love?” she asked, handing me our most cherished morning tradition.
While the anxiety I had about the Criterion still bubbled in my chest, the cup of chocol
ate and berries was a fruitful distraction as I gurgled sloppily answering, “Yes, Mother,” between swallows.
“Good, I am glad to hear it.” Nodding, she turned her attention to my bed and began pulling the ends of the tangled sheets back into place until my bed was once again perfectly dressed.
A slurping, sucking sound came from my straw announcing I had shamelessly finished the icy chocolate in half the time a proper lady of elegance should have. All that was left was a generous pile of chilled chocolate covered berries. My mother turned to address the rest of my room when my nightstand caught her eye.
Twigs! I cringed. There on the tabletop sat an infant tomato plant, no more than six inches tall on its proudest stem. The plant itself was less than remarkable, but it was the grand smattering of partially sprouted tomato seeds that made it clear my night was spent practicing with very little success.
“You are going to begin the Criterion with your history exam. It will be at nine a.m.,” my mother said without missing a beat. She continued straightening my room, gathering my scattered pajamas. Tapping the wall next to my closet, a panel slid open, revealing the wash cabinet. She placed the clothes inside, saying into the com, “Sterilize cycle one,” And the unit sealed, sliding back in place. She closed the panel concealing a hiss of the steam and soap being applied to my favorite, though slightly worn-out night clothes.
“I’m ready.” I nodded, still staring at the tomato seeds.
She pulled the chair from my desk and sat it next to the window beside me. “Okay, let me hear your opening.”
Setting the glass on the table, I straightened my shoulders to face her. For all the troubles I had in practical demonstrations of my abilities, I had no fears when it came to history. It was in my blood. My great grandparents had discovered an ancient building about a hundred years earlier, and it became their wish to restore it as close to what the original legendary museum had been before the ice age. It took decades, and I spent every spare minute I had there.
Taking a deep breath, I began. “The Search for Humanity, by Princess Violet Amplifien.”
My mother sat and listened patiently with a bemused expression framed by loose waves of her auburn hair.
“Earth is a planet teeming with life, on land, in the sea, and birds who fly through the air. Our ancestors had reached a population of over twenty billion souls that lived on every continent and some even living in orbit in the upper atmosphere. But when an ice age was discovered to be on its way, the humans had only two hundred years to prepare.
“There were many ideas and solutions, but arguably the most important, in my opinion was the creation of our people. The Evolutionaries, the second generation of humans.”
My speech continued through the ice age, covering pieces of history from the demise of our ancestors, the life of the survivors in the colonies, to the Warming, the Emergence, and the Divide that split the people of this planet into three groups. I continued my speech, but silently, I wondered what the Hg-1 were like today. The group of humans with no known abilities; did they survive? And what about the others, the ones who chose family over species and left on their own? No one had heard from any of the other groups in centuries. Did they survive, or were Amerans alone here on Earth?
When I finished, I dipped into a small curtsy. “The end of the beginning.”
“Beautifully articulated, Violet. Your father could not have done better himself.” She smiled in approval. Inside, I warmed. My mother knew there was no greater compliment she could give me. Pleased with myself, I reclaimed my breakfast, plucking an icy chocolate-coated berry off the top of the heap and popping it in my mouth. “Your germination practical exam will follow beginning at ten a.m.,” she said, rising from her seat.
The berry I had been enjoying suddenly decided to go down the wrong pipe, and I choked. My mother rushed to my side, watching me closely.
“I’m okay,” I reassured her, but then I coughed. “I think the berry was trying to save me from my inevitable embarrassment.” The practical exam, I thought dismally.
I’m not sure I would ever know the extremes my parents went to in order to maintain my privacy. But the Criterion was different, everyone had to face it, and traditionally everyone was documented. I was no exception. My parents were powerless to do anything about the press being in attendance this time, and the thought made the sinking in the pit of my stomach feel like a rock. I didn’t know what I would be walking into.
My mother closed her eyes and scanned me thoroughly. Satisfied I was in no danger of asphyxiation by blueberry, she finally let go of my hand. “Don’t over think it, Vi, you are going to do fine.”
“Stop reading my mind,” I said sourly, scraping the bottom of my cup. Her body went rigid as she straightened, turning slowly toward me. “I do not read minds,” she said calmly. “Because today is an important day, I will forgive you for being so cavalier in your comments about someone’s abilities.”
My cheeks flamed. “I am sorry, Mother, I didn’t mean it like that.” Making comments about someone’s abilities was as rude as discussing someone’s appearance. While it was fine to congratulate a person for their accomplishments, it was frowned upon to speculate what they could or could not do. I, of all people, appreciated that bit of social politics.
It also kept people civil, because you never knew if the person you were talking to could create a water bubble so big they could drown you in it. It was why crime in our time is a thing of the past. So while a normal citizen could never be forced to declare their abilities, those who want to be considered for a Kingship or Queenship have to declare to some degree what their abilities are because Amera royalty isn’t based on heredity. All nine realms in Amera are an elected monarchy.
The closest example from ancient times was the Popes and the Vatican. To become a candidate for king or queen in any of the eighteen courts, one has to pass the Elder trials, more commonly referred to as the Gauntlet. To complete the Gauntlet, you have to possess abilities that are extraordinary in both numbers and strength.
My mother was no exception—she was probably the rule. From the time she could walk, she displayed signs of great abilities and astonishing control. She was born in Exa, and while that was the realm that created the Shields, she was born a healer, and no matter the realm, healers are very rare. Only one out of ten thousand developed these abilities.
Union-wide gossip feeds had always been a source of torture for me, but were also a database of my mother’s achievements. If you did a search in the archives about Eva Travis of Exa, you would need years to read them all, and I had. I saw the tiny tomato plant next to her and felt my body sag. My mother followed my gaze, and her eyes clouded. I didn’t have to read minds to know what she was thinking. “There isn’t anything more I can do to practice. If I haven’t learned it by now, it’s already too late,” I mumbled.
She eyed me warily as I kept scraping at the bottom of the glass, trying to gather up enough chocolate or cream to justify licking the spoon. Then, in another version of her typical pep talks, she said, “Violet, your gifts will fully emerge when you are ready for them. Until then, you only need to continue to do your best. Today will be no exception.”
Her words of encouragement should have made me feel better, but frustration hit me instead. Optimism was easy when you were as gifted as she was. Before I could help myself, I snapped, “Thorns! You always say that, but I am ready! I have been since I was five years old. How many professors have spent ten hours a day in this palace trying to make me ready?” Sucking in a deep breath, I continued, “It’s time to face the truth. The Legacy Princess everyone expected me to be doesn’t exist. What will the gossip feeds say when they learn what I really am? I can see the headlines now, ‘Legacy ends for both Neyr houses! How can the daughter of the Legendary Amplifien and Travis families have abilities so weak it practically makes her a First Gen Human?’ Why can’t you just admit that I’m an embarrassment? Ship me off to the Hg-1 for as many gifts that I have and
let’s be done with this charade!”
“Violet, enough.” My mother spun on her heels, startling me out of my tirade. I could see the fury of emotions in her face, but her voice was steady when she said, “You will never say anything like that ever again. I do not care that you are a legacy. I don’t care what the gossip columns say. I don’t care what anyone thinks, not even your grandfather Illtyd. You are our daughter, and you have nothing to prove to anyone. Being a potential legacy is hard, I understand that, but there is no rule that says you have to follow that path. If you choose to submit yourself to the Elder trials for eligibility for election, that is your choice. Your life is yours and yours alone. Being the person with the most abilities in Amera doesn’t make you the best person in Amera.” She drew a deep breath with a profound sadness I didn’t understand. “Mastery of your gifts does not define you. Your efforts, your fortitude, and your heart will. My daughter; you always do your best for those who love you, and for your realm. That is what makes you a great person, no matter what you do with your life.”
She took my hand in hers, and my emotions quivered in my gut. “I know this hasn’t been easy. Growing up for anyone has its struggles. As a child of the courts, it is twice the load to bear. Being a legacy? There is just a handful of people alive today who knows what that is like. As you so proudly stated moments ago, I am also a legacy, and I came from a family and realm who expected more. It’s true, I don’t have a grandfather who is determined to see the Amplifien Legacy continue the way Illtyd is.” I pressed my lips together, knowing that since I was born it has been his life’s mission to see me on Neyr’s throne one day.
My neck warmed as she continued. “Regardless, I do have an idea of what you are going through, and I can see I have failed you. I am sorry.” She squeezed my hand gently. “When I met your father, you were just a dream as all children are before they are born. We were in a way, still children ourselves when we ran the Gauntlet. I thought I knew what would be in store for my children if I should be elected, but I always hoped that I would do as well as my own mother and make it a good life for you. Everything your father and I have done was in the hope that you would have a happy childhood. Perhaps we were wrong to shelter you so much. But I wanted to give you your best chance to become who you wanted to be. Not what people you have never met expect you to be.”