I stand in front of our village gate and wait for my brother to come out of the guard station. The bright afternoon sun sits high, and the festival banner overhead snaps loud in the cool breeze. He promised to take me to all my favorite tents after his patrol.
I want to get to the archery range before it gets too crowded. I can't wait to show him how good a shot I am now. Dad let me practice with mom's bow, since my hands are too small for his. But I'll be big soon.
Just one more birthday until I'm old enough to go to the academy. I'll grow big and strong and be the best. Then I'll patrol this gate alongside my brother to keep the demons away and keep everyone safe. It's what Orens do.
The smell of roasted meat and Rosa's sweet baked treats float by. I look back towards the houses to make sure mom hasn't caught up with me yet. She told me to wait, but they were taking too long.
I just turned six. I'm a big boy now. She shouldn't be surprised that I ran off on my own. She always says I'm mischief born, not warrior born.
I shift on my feet as the sun beats down. My festival clothes are scratchy and I give the collar a hard yank to give my neck some relief. I love festival time, except for the traditional clothes. I don't know why we have to dress up in our family colors, everyone knows who we are.
The crowd parts and I catch the cerulean blue of my Dad's tunic. They're getting closer and Elio still hasn't come through the guard station. I want to go with Elio, he lets me play and eat whatever I want.
I step closer to the station window and rise up on my toes. It doesn't help. I'm shorter than the other boys in the village, but mom says Orens get their growth spurt later. The underside of my chin is raw from the high stiff collar. I pull it down again and hear a rip. Mom's not going to be happy about that.
My fingers find the small hole I made when a heavy metallic groan sounds behind me. Finally, Elio is here. But when I turn around, all I see is a rush of fog as the wall gate widens. And electric blue lights glow through the opening.
My vision blurs and I can't focus, everything runs together. Friends and neighbors in their bright festival colors, strings of lights, rows of brightly colored tents, and echoes of laughter spin in front of me. The colors and laughter change as everything rotates into a kaleidoscope of bright red blood, fog, and screams.
My small hands rush up to cover my ears and I squeeze my eyes shut. The neon blue lights at the gate push through. They are bright and coming closer. They burn my eyelids. The light surrounds me and a loud silence washes over.
My body drops to the cold, hard ground as the blue light heats to a blinding white. It's so intense it burns everywhere, it's melting me from the outside in. All around me is white.
***
My eyes spring open to bright white overhead lights and I gasp for air. I beat a fist to my chest at the surge of power pushing against my center. After a few calming breaths, the memories from my nightmare fade. It's been a while since I've had one.
I run my fingers over the rough sheets below me. My powers calm down and it's a relief to feel their resistance deep inside. I feel good, refreshed. Now, where am I?
There's a white rolling chair beside my bed with a clipboard lying on the seat. The room is all white, from the walls to the tiled floor. A silver examination table is by the far wall with a row of cabinets behind it. I'm in the infirmary. I've only been in here to steal bandages. Any injuries had to be covered up to hide my speedy recovery.
I don't hear anyone else in the room or outside the building. Now's the best time to slip out. There's no way I can risk someone trying to examine me. I sit up and the skin along my ribs feels tight. My uniform is cut open and a large gauze bandage sits across my chest, secured with medical tape.
I peel off a corner and find pale, healthy skin where my self-inflicted wound was. I'll have to keep the bandage on for show. I stand quietly. My legs are steady but I can't shake the uneasiness of why I'm here. Being the only freak with powers means I don't know what's normal and when I should worry. I'm figuring this out as I go. I've never passed out. But if I had to guess, it must've been the surge of power that showed up during the trial. That insane high jump and the way I could track a teleporting Flick demon. It was all new.
Taking the clipboard from the chair, I scan over the medic's notes. Using the attached pen, I check off all the boxes and scribble similar initials to the ones at the top of the form. We have extra medics from Centrum at the academy for the injuries and casualties that happen during the trials, so they'll be too busy to know who finished my exam and cleared me.
I take quick steps to the exit and make my way to the barracks. I’ll change out of my damaged uniform before joining the rest of my class outside the arena. What if they ruled my trial a failure? My steps slow at the thought.
The trials have only one outcome; the cadet kills or is killed. No cadet has ever come out alive while the demon lives. Technically, I took out the Grunt demon, which was the objective, but did they witness it with the fog flooding the arena? Failing my trial is the opportunity General Targe needs for Cole to graduate Primus.
There's no one to stand up for me or argue for a retrial. And I won't last another year at the academy, especially with my powers manifesting new abilities. My mind races and my fingers are numb as I pull out another hidden uniform from behind my bunk.
I change on autopilot and walk through the empty barracks, lost in the possibilities. I work hard to stay calm and push my worries away. Too much emotion wreaks havoc on my control.
The wind whistles through the corridors between buildings, rushing over me like a sigh of relief against my heated skin while confirming my suspicion. I'm being followed and have been since I left the infirmary.
