Chosen

Chapter 1

Year of the Spentas 1402

Half the city was drunk already, while the other half would be within the next few hours. The days before and after a Choosing were truly intolerable. Lena slid through the crowd of people pressed shoulder to shoulder in the brisk air of early spring, filling the usually empty square all the way to the steps of the abandoned council hall. Children, immune to the cold, played underneath a hastily erected wooden stage, earning sharp rebukes from the guards standing in polished plate and royal navy cloaks.

Her lips pressed together in irritation. Lena’s workload later at the Healing Hall would be double a usual shift. She caught sight of Harper’s blazing red hair and pushed with some disgust past a group who had clearly already started their revelry.

“Finally! Why are you so late?” Harper huffed.

“I was studying,” Lena answered defensively, and turned to Jakob, his beanpole height giving him a distinct advantage in this crowd. “Are they here yet?”

Jakob shook his head, his wire rimmed glasses fogging on his nose.

“Studying,” Harper muttered, “on a Choosing day? Lena, you really are too intense… oh!” The crowd gasped, and Lena strained to see a line of horses enter the square, guards pushing back people while three finely dressed nobles dismounted and ascended the stage. Their colorful dress set them firmly apart from the drab browns and grays of the common folk whose dusty faces looked up at them with expectation.

The lord stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Welcome, people of the realm!” his magically amplified voice boomed across the square, making Lena wince at the volume. “We gather today to witness this great moment, The Choosing, where one of you is seen by our gods as being worthy of elevation to our great noble houses! Today it is not through birth or pedigree, but by the impressive development of one's magical Skill through constant dedication that one of you is Chosen!”

Lena sighed, tapping her fingers on her crossed arms. She suppressed an eye roll as the handsome noble continued to elaborate on the value of the Skilled in society and the essential role the Skilled played for their king and realm. Yes, how benevolent he must be, Lena thought acidly. Elevating one commoner with a desirable Skill, which happened to be useful to the crown, in a rare Choosing would give them the right to train at the Danesga. That elite institution was where the nobility developed their already formidable Skills. Never mind that sharing those resources with the rest of the realm would benefit everyone – the king would never allow it. Her lips thinned, and she hated that she was here, forced to stand with the rest of this crowd, hoping beyond hope that somehow it would be her name read out into the cold air that morning. If resources weren’t so jealously guarded, she wouldn’t be forced to want this.

“Are you okay?” Harper’s hand brushed Lena’s sleeve and she startled.

“Fine,” Lena blinked and flashed a half smile at her best friend, “I just…” she trailed off, not able to voice that she dreaded every Choosing she must attend because it meant seeing her hopes crushed once more. Harper studied her, her eyes filled with something that looked uncomfortably like pity. Thankfully, she said nothing. Harper patted her arm once, then turned to face where the noble had stepped to the front of the stage. He pulled a scroll from a velvet purse at his side. Lena shivered, her thin dress barely breaking the cold wind.

“Today one of you will rise, taking on both great opportunity and responsibility… and that person will be…” He dramatically unfurled the scroll with a snap. Lena felt her heartbeat quicken. What if, maybe, by some gift from the gods it was her that was Chosen? She could train at the Danesga. Surely then she’d be able to do something to help her sister. She clenched her fists, desperately trying to ignore the spark of hope in her chest. “Liev Drastens, Skilled!” the noble’s voice boomed across the square.

A cry arose from across the square, fists pumping into the air as a thin man with dusty brown hair was raised to the shoulders of the men around him. Tears ran down his cheeks. The crowd erupted as he was carried to the stage to stand by the nobles, who greeted him with polite but restrained applause. Lena looked down at her feet. She should be happy for the man, but instead she felt her disappointment like a leaden weight pulling her heart down to the vicinity of her feet. She snorted softly. Bitterness swept over her, pushing out the disappointment. She looked up, sparing one last glance for the palace sitting far above them on the side of the mountain and the elegantly treed avenues spreading beneath it. Then she turned towards the lower city, cramped between the curves of the river and the great city walls. For being so close the lives of those in the upper city felt awfully far away.

“Well, it looks like that’s it for this year,” Lena murmured to her friends, and before Harper or Jakob could protest or pressure her into a pub for a pint, she melted back into the crowd. Lena angled towards the western edge of the square, heading toward the small attic apartment she shared with Harper that was just around the corner from the Healing Hall. She knew the city would likely be celebrating into the small hours of the night but didn’t care to join in the celebrations. To her, the Choosing had always felt like a way to weaponize the hope of the commoners. That vanishingly small chance of becoming a noble kept them from asking too many questions about why the nobility lived such different lives and kept their anger from disrupting the balance of the realm. Lena hated it all because knew that hope was a fickle thing, not worth hanging your hat on.

She glanced at the old city hall as she passed by its crumbling balconies, which stood ribboned but empty and forlorn. On the lowest balcony stood a man, dressed entirely in black, who leaned lazily against the railing, rolling a golden ribbon between his fingers, which stilled as their eyes met. She froze, wondering who in the city had the ability to get into the locked building. Its doors had been closed since the King dissolved the council ages ago. The man’s dark eyes gave her an intense gaze, and he gave her the barest lift of his fingers in a wave as his lips curved into a slow smile. Lena averted her eyes, feeling a chill run down her back. Surely that was due to the cold wind blowing into the square and frowning and hurried into the narrow alley.

Chapter 2

The sun hadn't quite crested the horizon when Lena climbed out of her narrow bed, peering out their tiny window to check the weather for her journey home. The sky showed the promising hues of gold and pink that indicated a rainless day, if bitingly cold. For that, Lena was thankful. Walking most of the day to Two Peaks on a rainy day was a special form of torture. She tried to visit home once a month, although often her duties at the Healing Hall prevented it. She packed her bag quietly, but Harper was already awake and pulling on her own uniform. She was on shift that day at the Healing Hall.

“How’d you sleep?” Lena started laying out parchment wrapped bundles on her bed for packing.

“Too short. Jakob got a second wind after the Thorn and Thistle. You?” Harper tugged on her boots. “Here’s the wormroot you asked for.”

“Slept about as well as usual. Thanks for the wormroot. I can repay you…” Lena tucked another parchment wrapped bundle into her bag.

“Don’t bother. Just be careful, make sure you crush it and don’t grind it by accident - I did that last month, and I bled from my gums for three days. A little wormroot when added to…” Harper continued her story enthusiastically, but Lena hardly heard as she stuffed items into her satchel. She was thinking about her sister and if there was anything she had gleaned in her work over the past month that might be able to help her. Thinking of home was always unsettling. After she had started training at the Healing Hall, her mother had seemed to grow even more distant from her. Lena couldn’t understand why her mother always seemed to be so disappointed in her.

“Lena… Lena!” Harper snapped her fingers to get Lena’s attention

She startled. “Yes, what?”

“Are you listening?”

Lena winced. “Honestly? I’ve heard the bloodbane story before Harps and I need to remember to bring…”

Harper took her arm and guided Lena back to her bed, perching on the edge.

“What are you trying for her this time?” Harper enquired.

Lena sighed. “I wonder if the wormroot would lengthen the time the healing lasts. Slow excretion or something.”

Harper looked down. “That feels like a long shot.”

“I know it is. But I’m running out of ideas, Harps. The last letter from home says she’s getting worse.” She sighed, feeling helpless. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to work.

“Lena, your Skill is getting so much stronger. You’ll be the strongest healer in the Hall; you know that right?” Harper tried to reassure her.

Lena stood and paced to the window. “It’s not enough.” She shook her head as she swallowed the familiar blend of disappointment and desperation. Her Skill was strong. Stronger than most others her age, and she wasn't one for false modesty. It just didn’t seem to matter in the times she needed it most.

“Just… Lena, be careful. You come back from home, and you nearly burn yourself out every time. I just worry you’re going to end up in a ditch somewhere, with no one…”

Lena squeezed her eyes quickly to clear the fog of suppressed sadness that surfaced every time she thought of how she kept failing her sister. “I’ll be fine Harps. I know my limits.” She rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Yeah. I know you do. That’s the scary part.” Harper’s hand rested on her shoulder for a brief moment, and then her steps faded quickly as she opened the door and hurried off to the Hall. Lena finished packing her satchel, wrapped her cloak tightly, and followed Harper out, heading to the west gate once she stepped into the city streets.

***

Hours later she could still see the walls of the city behind her as she took the western road, but soon the ground became hilly with more trees. The capital always reminded Lena of an anthill. She could see the tops of the crowded tenements of the lower city that were packed between the city walls and the river Oris. The river divided the lower and upper city, like a moat preventing the stain of the commoners from imposing on the estates of the upper city. Above the stone bridges, the land rose towards the palace. The golden stone terraces of the palace were visible from the city below, but commoners weren’t allowed to enter the palace grounds without an invitation from the king. Lena sniffed. She was more likely to be struck by lightning than to set foot in those Skill enhanced gardens. There were scattered travelers on the road, but none paid attention to a young woman dressed in practical walking attire. Lena had a small dagger strapped to her waist, not that she really knew how to use it. She hadn't found much time for practice between classes and Healing Hall duty. At some point the dangers of the road had faded into the background for her, still in her awareness but not at the forefront of her mind.

When she was a little girl, Lena dreamed that she might manifest a Skill. Although Skills weren’t rare outside of the nobility, they were usually so weak as to make them nearly useless. Centuries of separation of the nobility and the commoners had seen to that. Skill capacity was inherited, so the nobility only married amongst themselves. The priesthood claimed the nobility’s strength of Skill was proof from the gods that they were meant to rule, but Lena had serious doubts about that. Anyone who grew up on a farm understood how traits were passed from parent to child and their strength seemed more like the result of a selective breeding program than a divine mandate. Occasionally, just like a sheep would sometimes be born black, a commoner would emerge with an unusually strong Skill. The religious would claim it to be proof that Skill was due to the gods’ favor. Lena suspected it was proof of the wandering hands of a noble. Regardless, if the Skill was strong enough, the nobility snatched that person up in one of the ‘generous’ Choosings and that person was a commoner no more. It was a system designed to keep and concentrate the power within the elite, and it made Lena sick.

Lena’s mother didn’t display more than a minor aptitude with a Skill, like most of the commoners. Lena didn’t know much about her father, as Mother didn’t speak of the man who had left them when Lena and Tara were just babies. Lena ignored the familiar pang of grief that arose every time she wondered how different life would have been if her father had stayed. Her mother refused to say why he had left, but Lena felt in her gut that he must have looked at a life of caring for twin girls, one of whom would never be well, and decided he didn’t love them enough to make it worth it. She hadn’t been enough for him to stay. Lena turned her face to the sky, letting the cold wind distract her from the pain she buried deep inside.

She didn’t remember how old she was when she realized that her twin sister, Tara, was different. Tara didn’t speak even long after all the other children could and never understood the rules of the childish games that Lena would create for them. Despite her differences, Lena had loved her fiercely and would sit with her for hours in the field next to the forest, braiding flowers into her sister's hair and humming her favorite songs to her to soothe her. Then the shaking spells started, and Lena remembered standing outside their small kitchen, listening to her mother’s sobs. They traveled to the capital to take her sister to a healer, her mother nervously avoiding the crowded markets. Lena remembered looking wide eyed as her mother dragged her along by the wrist, barely comprehending how so many people could live so close together. She was awed by the Healing House, by the calming presence of the healers who met with them. She decided then that she wanted to be a healer, no matter what her Skill might be. When they left with some herbs in hand, she didn’t understand why her mother still seemed to be so heartbroken.

Lena was in that awkward stage where she was no longer a girl but not yet a woman when she found a small bird, its wing crushed, fluttering on the ground. Her mother told her it wouldn’t survive, yet she cradled it to her chest, unable to witness its suffering. She was sitting in her favorite meadow with the bird held gently in her lab, tears falling, when she felt it within her. It was an odd feeling, but something started to beat in her that felt as if she had another heartbeat. She could suddenly feel something different inside her, a gentle pressure, and it wanted out. She was focused on the bird, and that strange pressure built until silvery tendrils of fog ran from her hands to the bird’s wing. It felt akin to the strange prickling feeling of her arm reawakening after it had fallen asleep and gone numb. Lena opened her eyes to watch the bird fly away. Healing was a valued Skill, and Lena was overjoyed at first as it seemed like the gods had answered her prayers to become a healer. Her mother seemed like the only person who wasn’t proud of her, but she covered up that sting by working harder. If she could fix Tara, surely her mother would see her value. As her sister’s spells worsened and her mother’s sadness seemed to become a bottomless hole, Lena just felt helpless. Her mother became mechanical as she moved through the daily chores on the farm, her prior joyful laughter fading from their home. Lena was ashamed to admit how relieved she was when she was accepted to train at the Healing Hall in the capital. She tried to ignore how much easier it was to breathe, leaving behind the oppressive fog of sadness that hovered over her home.

***

Lena strode along the wooded edge of the field, shrieking when some boys from the village leaped out of a tree, nearly toppling her into the loamy soil of the field.

“Good gods, Markus! Since when can you sneak up so quietly? Caden, did you get taller in the last month?” The boys beamed, then giggled and ran back into the woods. Her mother was working in the field in front of their home. She wiped her forehead and brushed her hands on her apron as Lena approached.

“Lena. You’re back soon.”

Lena forced a smile. “Hello, mother. It’s been a fortnight.” She lingered, hesitating but then wondering why she bothered. “How are things here?”

Her mother sighed. “We’re fine.” She looked away, and Lena read the true answer to her question in the way her mother’s lips pinched together.