Royals Rise

by K. Manna

  My hand flew to my mouth. “I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say. That’s so sad. Do they think he was sick?”

  “They’re investigating right now; nobody knows anything yet. They woke me a little bit ago to ask questions about him since we had practice together, but I didn’t really know anything about him,” Sasha explained sadly. “Jeremiah, he was always so quiet, you know? I don’t think anyone really knew him, except for maybe Preston.”

  Bree and I both nodded. Everyone knew how quiet and distant Jeremiah had been. Preston seemed to be similar to him in many ways, and that must have been why the two of them got along so well.

  Sasha yawned. “This whole thing makes me feel weird. I’m going to go lie down and try to get back to sleep. I don’t want to think about it anymore. Maybe when I wake, this will all be just a dream … I hope.” Sasha grabbed Bree’s arm and started down the hall. Suddenly, Sasha stopped and turned around. “Oh, Sir Felix told me that he will be visiting each room sometime this morning. He wants to ask everyone questions about Jeremiah.”

  “Okay,” I said, closing the door.

  This whole thing is crazy. It doesn’t seem real. How could this happen? How could a young, healthy, strong guy just not wake up, here, in the palace? Under the same roof as me, while everyone slept? Someone must know something.

  My mind reeled with questions as I returned to bed.

  This doesn’t make any sense. How could Jeremiah fall into a coma the day before the Royals Rise, the day before his whole life could have changed? Could he have been sick, or could he have been poisoned by someone? My god, scary. Maybe this was his plan. Maybe he wanted to die and did it himself. No, why the heck would he do that? That would be totally stupid.

  More crazy questions swirled around in my brain until all went purple, until all went blank, but not for long.

  KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

  Half-asleep and startled, I jolted awake at the sound. The clock read 6:42. Lottie rolled over in bed, rubbing her eyes.

  “Who’s here?” Lottie mumbled sleepily.

  “It must be Sir Felix,” I said, crawling out of bed.

  Lottie yawned. “Sir Felix? Why would he be knocking so dang early?”

  Not wanting to explain the whole sad story, I said, “Sir Felix will tell you in a minute.”

  Lottie sat up in bed as I went to answer the door. Sure enough, Sir Felix stood outside the door with his hands in his pockets.

  “I would like to say good morning, but this morning has been anything but that,” Sir Felix sighed.

  “I know. Sasha already came and told me the bad news, but I’m going to let you tell Lottie what happened. She just woke up.” I gestured for him to come into the room.

  Sir Felix explained what had transpired that morning in Preston and Jeremiah’s bathroom. Lottie sat wide eyed, listening, and—to my surprise—silent. She didn’t know what to say; I’m sure nobody really did.

  Sir Felix went on, “We have found that the Enertion drink prepared for all of you this morning has been emptied by more than half.”

  Immediately, I remembered what Sasha had said about there being orangish-green vomit all over the bathroom where Jeremiah had been found.

  That’s it! He must have drunk himself sick. Ugh, how could he drink so much of that awful stuff?

  Sir Felix continued, “Preston has told us that Jeremiah felt very down about himself. He felt that he was weaker than both Sasha and Cole and believed that he had no chance of winning the Royals Rise. Preston had the impression that Jeremiah wanted to win so badly that he would have done whatever it took to be successful. Jeremiah had joked with Preston about sneaking into the Enertion to help him build his strength, but Preston didn’t think he would seriously follow through with the idea.”

  This didn’t make any sense to me, so I asked, “How did this all happen when there are cameras all over? I mean, seriously, they are everywhere. An alarm went off even when we stood at the edge of a cliff, so I don’t understand how someone didn’t notice this happening.”

  Sir Felix bit his lip. “Yes, I know. It seems that Jeremiah was an extremely intelligent young man. Somehow he managed to successfully disable the cameras near the kitchen. We are still investigating how exactly he accomplished this.”

  Lottie and I glanced at each other. Finally, Lottie said, “Well, if Jeremiah is in a coma from drinking the Enertion, then doesn’t that prove that it is harmful for all of us? How much do you think he drank?”

  “Our estimate is that he drank about nine glasses worth. Enertion is very good for the body, but it’s extremely potent. Like any medication, it is only healthy if taken in small doses. Too much of anything, even water, can be harmful to the body,” Sir Felix explained.

  I nodded with understanding. This whole situation reminded me of a guy from our high school. The story was that this guy had been at some party and thought he would try and see how much alcohol he could down. It didn’t work out so well for him because he ended up with alcohol poisoning. Thankfully, he recovered.

  Sir Felix interrupted my thoughts, asking, “Did either of you talk with Jeremiah? Do you have any important information that you feel would be valuable to our investigation?”

  Both Lottie and I shook our heads.

  “No, Jeremiah pretty much kept to himself,” I said. “He didn’t seem unhappy or self-conscious, really. I never would have thought he would do something like this.”

  “Today, with this unfortunate event happening, we should all be reminded to have everything in moderation,” Sir Felix said, walking toward the door. Before leaving, he added, “The royal family is tremendously saddened that this has occurred. They want all of you to remember that hard times are a part of life. Negative things do happen. But like all things, this too will pass. Always keep your head high with strength and move forward. Both of you have much to look forward to. Don’t let this unfortunate event—or anything for that matter—distract you or get you down.”

  That was exactly what we knew we had to do and would do for the big day tomorrow. Yes, for the Royals Rise.

  Jeremiah’s situation caused much chatter during breakfast. And with the kitchen having to replenish the Enertion supply, the chatterboxes had plenty of time to talk and whisper. This didn’t seem to faze Preston, who sat quietly with his head down. While most of us were shocked, it was Preston who seemed the most saddened over the whole ordeal.

  Should I feel guilty for not feeling all down and depressed over Jeremiah?

  I walked back to my room after finishing a not-so-satisfying breakfast. The taste just wasn’t the same. All that had happened, along with the gossip, seemed to give off a negative energy that I wanted to get away from. Plus, like Sir Felix had said, we shouldn’t let ourselves get down or distracted over what had happened. With the Royals Rise tomorrow, I wanted to be fully prepared. Before Eugene left yesterday evening, he gave us instructions for this final day before the Royals Rise: meditate twice as long, but abstain from using our energy until the Royals Rise. I felt relief. Having one day free from torturous pain sounded like a spectacular idea to me.

  Sitting in meditation pose, I relaxed my body and breathing. The drapes were pulled open, but no sunlight streamed in on this odd, gloomy day. A light rain drizzled against the windows, causing a faint pitter-patter. I knew Eugene believed that being outside amid all of nature’s energies created the best surroundings for meditation, but I wasn’t having it. I wanted to stay inside, even though most of the others had headed outside without a care about getting rained on.

  Sitting peacefully alone, I closed my eyes and imagined that I was listening to the calming sounds that Eugene would play for us. Then I imagined the annoying beeping sounds that helped to raise awareness and activate our inner energy. Without the actual sounds playing aloud, it didn’t feel the same, but at least I tried. Purple swirls began to float underneath my
eyelids, flowing in a little dance with the imaginary sounds in my head. I decided to try Indee’s humming thing, my throat vibrating into my nose and neck. This led me to my deep-breathing exercises, which caused me to feel complete relaxation taking over. The healing energy from within me began to pulsate inside of my palms until it felt as if it were streaming in and around my whole being. With that, different sensations reached an intensity so strong that I almost felt like my body wasn’t my own. It felt like a dream or an out-of-body experience. When I opened my eyes, I still saw swirls of purple moving this way and that way, which usually only happened with my eyes closed.

  Now for my ball of healing energy. Work wonders, will ya?

  My fingertips on my left hand connected with those on my right hand, creating a bridged heat force where a bold-purple glow began to light the air inside of them. This purple light moved smoothly like a stream of lava flowing. When I parted my fingertips, the heated stream of energy widened, taking on whatever shape my hands created. It was such an awesome feeling and a crazy-cool sight.

  The heat radiating from within my hands became so fierce that I started to sweat, and I mean sweat profusely. With one hand, I wiped the sweat that had begun to drip from my hairline. The heat from my hand absorbed into the skin on my face, making me wonder if it could possibly singe the little peach-fuzz hairs covering my skin.

  “All right, that’s enough for today. Ugh, I’m all sweaty and nasty now. It feels like I’ve been at the gym for hours. This calls for a long shower,” I said to myself.

  As I grabbed a towel, I glanced in the mirror and saw that my cheeks were rosy red.

  I smiled back at myself in the mirror. “You’re ready for this, Margo. You can do this. You will do this. I know you will. Look at you. You’re hot, hot, hot!”

  I sat down and started pulling off my socks, which were sticking to my sweaty feet. My shirt was sticky, too. I wrinkled my nose. B.O. city. I stank.

  “Go-Go, what is that smell in here?” asked Lottie, standing in the doorway.

  “Um, it’s me. Sorry, I’m getting in the shower right now.”

  “Yeah, you’d better. Damn, girl. Now I gotta spray the whole room with deodorizer. Who were you talking to in there?” Lottie asked.

  I smiled. “Me, myself, and I.”

  Lottie laughed. “You are such a dork.”

  “Yeah, I already know that. You don’t have to remind me,” I raised my voice over the running water.

  I stepped inside the shower and began lathering up.

  With my painting in hand, I walked with Lottie to the art room. I had promised myself that I would fix my painting today in case I lost and was sent home tomorrow. It simply had to be fully completed before the Royals Rise so that it could go home with me as a self-created souvenir, a souvenir from this unforgettable time in my life. And if I did win, the painting would still be my souvenir and would be hanging in my gigantic room in the palace.

  Opening the door, Lottie and I entered the art room, a much whiter and brighter art room than before. Three of the four walls had been repainted white. The wall with the beautifully painted castle was the only one left intact, but not for long. It looked like the mural destroyer had run out of paint near the corner of the wall.

  How strange is this? Did Truman do it? He must have. Why would he ruin such an awesome work of art, especially one that he painted?

  “Dang, it’s bright in here,” Lottie said, heading over to the beaded-jewelry items.

  “I know, I was just thinking the same thing.”

  I gathered paintbrushes and a glass of dipping water. Wanting to enhance the previous paint colors, I filled a palette with lively, bold paint colors—not flat, boring colors like I had chosen before. Those colors had matched my bluesy mood at the time when I missed the Zyon’s company and worried that he wasn’t attracted to me, but now I’d seen him and knew all was good as gold. My mood had changed for the better, and so would this painting.

  Lottie sat at the table next to me, laying out all the jewelry pieces that she had chosen to work with. “I haven’t beaded in forever. The last time must have been with my sister when we made these cute little charm bracelets as kids.” Lottie sighed. “I wonder whatever happened to those bracelets. Anyway, Go-Go, how did you come up with that idea for your painting?”

  “Well, it’s from a dream that I had the night before my birthday,” I said. “I thought it would make for a cool painting.”

  “Did you pick those unrealistic colors or was the sky really yellow and the leaves bluish-green in your dream?” Lottie asked.

  “It’s all from my dream. Most of my ideas come from my dreams, actually. My dreams are often filled with magic and unrealistic colors and stuff.”

  “That’s awesome. I wish my dreams were that interesting. If I could remember them, that is. It’s hard for me to remember them most of the time.” Lottie shrugged. “Or maybe I don’t dream much.”

  I shook my head. “No, I think that everyone dreams, but for some reason some people remember them and others don’t. Who knows why?”

  The new colors looked almost exactly like the colors from my dream. Rich blue-green-tinted leaves hung from the long branches of the willow, with glowing cocoons scattered randomly. I considered adding Eli walking up the spiraling staircase around the tree trunk, but in the end I decided against it.

  What if the Zyon sees my painting? He would wonder who that is and ask me if it’s my “lover boy” and give me crap about having a “thing” for Eli. Painting him would just give the Zyon more reason to think something. Well, I could just say that it’s Gage. Heck no, I’m still pissed at him.

  Gage and I hadn’t talked since the whole Onnika incident. Some people might have thought that it was due to my immaturity, but whatever. Gage had pissed me off, and that was that.

  Breaking the silence, Lottie began to talk while concentrating on her beading. “I can’t believe tomorrow is the Royals Rise. I feel so excited, but scared at the same time. If we win, our lives will change forever.”

  I smiled. “I know. This is all so crazy. It feels unreal.”

  “If I don’t win, I don’t know what I will do with myself. What would you do?” Lottie asked.

  “I guess finish high school and hope that I get a scholarship for art. If that happens, then I will definitely go to college. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else but paint for the rest of my life.”

  Lottie nodded. “That’s cool that you have some kind of plan. You love painting, and you’re good at it. I would totally buy your paintings if I had money, and I would hang them all over my walls.”

  “Aw, thank you. You make me feel so darn special,” I said dorkishly.

  Lottie sighed. “I don’t have any hobbies that I’m passionate about, not like you. I have no idea what I’d do if I lost. I don’t even wanna think about it.”

  “You’ll figure it out, Lottie. Everything works itself out sooner or later.”

  Lottie suddenly scrambled in her seat and grumbled, “Oh, dammit! Like half of my beads slipped off.”

  “That sucks. I hate when that happens.”

  The door creaked open, and we both looked to see who was there. In came Truman. I smiled at him, and he gave a little nod in return. My eyes followed him as he gathered a large paintbrush and a small bucket of white paint.

  He’s come back to destroy the rest of his amazing painting. He’s nuts. All that time he put into it and everything. If that were me, I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it, not something that fantastic.

  With long, smooth strokes, Truman painted white over the incredibly detailed castle and then moved to the surrounding trees, floating iridescent bubbles, and finally the fluffy-clouded sky.

  I asked, “Truman, what are you planning to paint next?”

  Silence.

  It was like he hadn’t even heard me. He just kept pain
ting with his back to us. Lottie and I looked at each other.

  I whispered, “Do you think he didn’t hear me?”

  “He had to have,” Lottie whispered back.

  Even louder, I said, “I loved your castle painting, Truman. You are an extraordinary painter.” I cleared my throat. “Do you have any idea what you will paint next?”

  Still he painted silently.

  Weirdness. Well, maybe he’s being like this because of his social anxiety. Roz did say he had issues. I don’t want to bug him and make him uncomfortable. I’m just going to shut up.

  Lottie rolled her eyes. “What is his problem? He could at least answer your question.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s no big deal. Let’s just leave him alone.”

  But Lottie wouldn’t listen. Truman’s lack of a response triggered some innate sense of justice in Lottie. She abruptly stood up from her seat and walked over to him. Standing right behind him, she turned back to look at me and then tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey.”

  Truman turned around.

  “Why are you ignoring her question? Don’t you think that is a little rude?” Lottie asked.

  Truman looked closely at Lottie, almost like he was checking something on her face. Then he pointed to his ear and shook his head back and forth, mouthing something. His words were distorted and difficult to understand. Lottie, with the amazing hearing, watched Truman closely now, nodding her head.