Chapter 21 #2
“A chance to do what? Watch our children grow up afraid of who they are? To see abilities wither from disuse? To purge ourselves, because we’re too scared to fight for something more?
” Kalliss throws his hands up in disgust. “Vorith and I both believe that Elowen’s return is the sign we’ve been waiting for. You’re outnumbered.”
“Being outnumbered doesn’t make me wrong. It just means more people might die.”
Both men are red-faced, angry, and I grab for the first thing I can think of to try and deflate the tension that’s fast reaching explosive levels.
“I’d like to meet some of them. You’re talking about people I have no knowledge of. If you are insisting that their fates all lie in my being here, I’d like to see them.”
All three masters turn to look at me, then Vorith nods.
“That’s a good idea. Come. Let me show you who we’ve been protecting.” She looks at the two men. “You two stay here.” Her tone makes it clear that she doesn’t approve of the way they were fighting.
We step outside into the evening air. The settlement is made up of small homes scattered along paths that wind between small gardening areas, and workshops. There are no people out, but smoke rises from chimneys, which makes me think most are inside eating an evening meal.
“How many live here?”
“There are about sixty families in this village. There are others scattered throughout Meridian. Small communities, carefully hidden. We’ve learned that larger groups draw too much attention.”
“Do they know about me?”
“They all know of the prophecy.”
Vorith leads me to a small cottage beside a pond. The water is still, creating a mirror that reflects the stars. It gives the entire area a peaceful, almost serene, atmosphere. She walks to the door and knocks.
A woman opens it, and smiles when she sees Vorith.
“Nika, I’d like you to meet Elowen.”
The woman—Nika—looks at me. “You’re the one being sought by the Authority.”
Her directness surprises me. If the proclamation has already reached here, how many other villages has it been seen by?
“I … yes.”
“Come inside.” She steps back, and waits for us to walk past before closing the door behind us.
Woven rugs cover the floors, shelves hold small carved figurines, polished stones, and pressed flowers. The smell of a stew cooking fills the room. It could be any home in any village, except for the subtle tension that underlies everything.
A man looks up from where he’s seated by the fire, mending what looks like a torn tunic. Two children play on the mats near his feet—a girl of around six with dark curls, and a boy who I think is slightly younger.
“This is my husband, Garel, and our children, Seram and Bek.”
The little girl, Seram, stares at me. Her brother is more cautious, inching close to his father.
“Hello.” I smile at them.
“Your hair is odd,” Seram says.
“Seram!” Nika admonishes her, turning to me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. Do you like living here?”
Both children nod.
“We have friends,” Seram says. “And good food!” She pats her stomach, and I stifle a laugh.
“Mama tells the best stories,” Bek adds.
“What kind of stories?”
“About people who are different. Special people.”
I look at Nika.
“We tell them what we can,” she says quietly. “Stories about the old days, when families like ours lived openly.”
“But we don’t tell them why things changed.” Garel joins the conversation. “They’re too young to understand that kind of fear.”
“Do they know what they are?”
“They know they’re special. That they have gifts that others outside of our village don’t. But they also know that those gifts must stay hidden.”
“It’s a game.” Seram’s voice is bright. “We play the hiding game.”
The casual way she describes hiding core parts of herself as a game hurts my heart. To her, suppressing abilities that should be a source of wonder and joy is a part of life, a rule to be followed.
“Are you good at the hiding game?” I crouch down so I’m on the same level as them.
Both children nod.
“We never show anyone,” Bek says. “Even when we really want to.”
“That must be hard.”
“Sometimes.” Seram’s cheerfulness dims slightly. “But Mama says it’s the right thing to do. That maybe someday we won’t have to play it anymore.”
“What would you do if you didn’t have to play the hiding game?”
Seram’s eyes light up. “I would make all the flowers bloom at once. Even in winter!”
“I would make the trees grow tall enough to climb all the way to the clouds,” Bek adds, his shyness forgotten in his excitement.
I lift my head to look at Nika. “What about you? If you could have anything, what would you want most for them?”
“To be proud of what they are.” Nika doesn’t even hesitate. “To use their gifts to help people, to make the world better, instead of hiding them away like shameful secrets.”
There isn’t a lot I can say to that. I glance over at Vorith, who pats Nika’s shoulder. “Thank you for allowing us into your home.”
She guides me back outside. My mind spins with everything I’ve just heard as we walk back to the common hall, where Kalliss and Meren are still arguing.
“Do you see why they fight now? Every choice we make affects families like Nika and Garel’s.”
“Which is exactly why we live the way we do.” Meren’s voice lacks its earlier fire, though. Now he sounds tired. “One mistake could destroy everything we’ve built. One child who uses their power carelessly, one adult who reveals too much, one Authority patrol who stumbles into the wrong village.”
“But we keep hope alive by ensuring the past does not get forgotten,” Kalliss says. “We tell them about what we once were, about the Vareth’el and the sacrifices he made, the way he fought for us.”
“Even those memories are fading. Each generation remembers less than the one before. Before long, even our abilities will die.” Vorith’s voice holds sadness.
“Which is exactly why Elowen’s return matters.”
“What if I’m not what the prophecies say I am?” The words come out before I can stop them. “What if I’m just a girl with strange powers who’s going to get everyone killed?”
The room falls silent. All three masters look at me.
“That’s a risk we have to take, because the alternative is watching everything we are, slowly disappear,” Vorith says gently.
“The visions showed both outcomes. Salvation and destruction. The future isn’t written yet. It depends on the choices we make,” Kalliss adds.
“And the choices you make.” Meren’s voice is softer than it’s been all evening. “I still believe your presence here is dangerous. We cannot rush into a decision.”
I look between the three of them, these people who gave up everything to save me.
Kalliss smiles. “You represent the possibility that things can change.”
Or I represent the threat that could destroy everything they’ve built.