"That stupid Kai, assigning Silas as my guard. I don't need someone constantly watching over me, let alone that Rex breathing down my neck. Can't something go right just once? Once! That's all I ask. But no. I'm stuck here with these fancy rooms, and their fancy clothes, and their stupid fancy food," I murmur my frustrations under my breath as Shona sits across from me, nodding along as though she were actually listening. I pace back and forth in my bedroom, stomping on the carpet like it'd help me vent my anger.
"Why again are you upset with that Stafford boy?" Shona asks me.
"Do you not know how the Stafford's terrorized the people after Carpa Malum? These Rex's with their undeniable power, and yet they do nothing when it really matters." I clenched my fists in frustration, still moving across the room.
"Castelle, you need to remember, Silas isn't his father." I stop and look at her. "It was his father that made those decisions. As far as I can see, he's trying to get away from it all."
What she says makes sense, and I can't deny it. "That may be true, but I'm still not exactly the most trusting towards anyone with the Stafford name."
Shona looks away for a moment, sighing when she realizes I'm too stubborn to change at this very moment. "And what about Malachi? President Malachi Blaire?"
I look away at the mention of his name, a combination of anger, hatred, and bile rising in my throat. "Our relationship was broken long ago," I start, glaring as I speak, "and neither of us are really trying to fix it."
It looks like she wants to ask more, but for fear of prying, she decides against it. I wouldn't have answered her either way as I still haven't decided whether or not to fully trust her. As the grandfather clock in the hall chimes, Shona gets up, realizing the late hour. She pats my hand before leaving, then disappears behind the door connecting out two rooms.
I fall face first onto my bed and try to scream, but all that comes out is a disappointing sigh. What I wouldn't give to be back on the streets. My mind wanders back to an old memory I had with Devon.
* * *
Before our castes, before the Karmas, before Carpa Malum, there was one place we'd always run off to together. We were eleven at the time, but I can remember it like it was yesterday, every detail still freshly etched in my mind.
Behind the schoolyard, past the chain link fence that kept all the children in, there was a hill, only about twenty yards steep or so at a slight incline. Green grass blanketed the ground, yellow dandelions starting to peek between the strands, signifying the early start of spring. My desk was in the back corner of the classroom, allowing me to stare out the window without any repercussions.
My teacher didn't really mind my spacing out in class since my marks were so high. Not all of my classmates appreciated my "special treatment", but I've grown to be placid towards their taunts. Throughout grade school, I made some friends, but I also lost all of them somewhere along the way. I've only ever needed one.
We were given our weekly computation assessment in math class, sixty basic questions in sixty seconds. I had just finished mine in about thirty-five, and so my eyes glazed over as I watched the blades of glass bending with the wind, creating lighter green stripes in the ground that appeared to be moving. The clock was ticking, and what finally broke the silence was a subtle skipping in the hallway. Devon and I had a signal for when one of us just needed to talk to the other, two quick steps followed by three slower ones down the corridor. The tapping of his shoes tells me that I was needed outside of the second-floor bathroom, and so I left.
Devon pulled me from our secret meeting place, and we somehow snuck out of the building through the cafeteria. The only other people who we've shown the entranceway to were the Blaire siblings, but that relationship seems to have died a lifetime ago.
We climbed the silver fence and landed gracefully on the other side, his knees buckling slightly more than mine. We spent the next few minutes running up and down the hill, rolling around in the grass, green staining our blue jeans.
Our laughs echoed in the field. It didn't take much for me to be humored then, but when I turned towards him, I saw a toothy grin stretching from ear to ear. His squeaky giggles permeating through the calm atmosphere.
His shirt was ruffled but it was clear he didn't care, he'd never been concerned for frivolous details such as his appearance, only how his clothes made him feel. I based my outfit choices off of his mindset; if no one else liked what we wore, there'd be at least one other person we knew would appreciate our taste in clothing.
Out of breath, we laid down, head to head, and looked up at the sky, clouds scattered throughout the sky, and the sun shining through the cracks between the clouds. A butterfly flapped by, it's black and gold wings catching my attention if only for a moment.
Devon reached out in front of him. "It's a flower," he says, delight ringing through the air. A gust of wind blows and the clouds shift, changing the delicate shape and scattering its pieces to the adjacent clouds. One larger portion of the flower that was originally a petal flew right above me.
"Well," I started, "It's not anymore." I hear him shuffle in disappointment. Wanting to make my brother feel better, my young self sighed, and sat up. I pushed the long locks of hair out of my face and secure them behind my ears. My eyes searched the land around me, and gleamed with excitement when I found two round dandelions, the seeds shaking as I clipped them with my nails. I tapped Devon's shoulder slowly, being sure not to disturb the weeds, thinking that if one seed fell off then the wish wouldn't come true. His eyes lit up at the realization of my idea, and eagerly grabbed one of the stems out of my hand.
"One," I said tilting my head down, my eyes urging him to continue. A corner of his mouth curved slightly as he spoke, his voice rolling with temptation.
"Two," he says. We both nodded at once, and together, excitedly smiled at once.
"Three!" our young voices yelped. We blew on our dandelions with a thirst for magic. Even at the time, our adolescent minds knew our wishes would most likely not come true, but we still eagerly blew the seeds away all the same.
The seeds flew, dispersing in the air, carrying our thoughts with it. They rode with the currents created by gusts of the wind, and disappeared within seconds. We look back at each other, and remember the pact we made to keep all wishes a secret. Despite this fact, our silent exchange tells me he probably wished for something trivial, like a rare baseball card or a decent grade on the upcoming test. I, however, wished to live in that moment. To bask in the innocence and safety of that afternoon for as long as I could. To never leave it.
* * *
I must have fallen asleep thinking of that day, for I woke up splayed across the covers. My dinner clothing still clung to my skin and reeked of garlic and regret. Shona was pounding on my door, I'm not sure for how long, but the knocks were growing more and more impatient with each passing second.
"Castelle, Castelle, Castelle," she repeats urgently, anger and frustration flooding her voice. Her screaming brushed its way through my daze and entered my hearing, the banging pulsating through my head. I stand up, fatigue overtaking my joints as I make my way towards the door. If I don't let her in, I'm sure Shona would break it down eventually.
"You rang?" I said sarcastically. She didn't seem to notice my remark, instead, she rushed past me, a package clutched in her right hand.
"You need to get dressed. Now." She pushes the package into my hands and turns to leave. Before she could, I reached out and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn around.
"What am I changing for?" I ask, still wiping away sleep from my eyes.
"Training," she says simply. "Now get dressed." She turns without further explanation, then I remembered the development that occurred yesterday. I'm a Trinity Guard trainee now. Depending on where they decide to rank me, I could either be living it up in Trinity Central all day, or I might be sent to a remote testing facility to safeguard some Stafford experiment. Heck, I might just be an escort like Kent or Silas. I'd get the title, but have to do none of the work.
I tear open the package and look for somewhere to dispose of the paper. After not finding anything within five feet of me, I just shrug and drop the trash on the ground next to me. The outfit that I've been given was a skin-tight, navy blue bodysuit. It covered every inch of skin, but cuts off right at the hands and feet. The neckline rounds out around my collarbone and pinches my skin, making it all the more difficult to slip on. There was also a new pair of black combat boots, the bottoms clinging to the floor to provide extra stability as I walk.
I put my hair up in a tight ponytail towards the top of my head, pulling the strands out of my face and letting them sway, grazing my lower back with every head movement. A few strands that weren't long enough to reach the tie in the back fall out and rest on my cheeks, framing my face.
"Are you done in there?" Shona calls. I finished tying my boots and open the door again, rolling my eyes at Shona's worrisome expression. "Good, now, we gotta go." She rushes past me and leaves my apartment through my front door. She rushes down the hall towards the cafeteria, but stops right before entering. Instead, she turns left down another hall with a similar entrance at the end. The double doors swing open with a hard push, and we are immediately greeted with a cool gust of wind.
The training facility was more than twice the size of the large cafeteria. Mats lined the concrete walls and the ground is split into three separate sections. Along the right wall, there was a row of dummies and punching bags, every other one with someone pounding it into submission. Down the middle, there were eight sparring mats creating two columns of four along the floor. Only two of them were being used, both looking as though they were play-fights to blow off some steam rather than with the intention of harming. On the far left wall, there were human shaped cutouts about twenty feet away from a row of wooden stalls. Each stall held one gun, a pair of earmuffs, and ten knives.
"You'll be coming here every morning at nine, dressed like that, for the next two weeks." When I step in, away from the entrance, Shona backs away and the door closes with a loud thud, separating the two of us before I have a chance to protest. Like hell I will. The room was filled with other initiates, looking at some equipment, practicing their aiming, or just casually socializing. Everyone wore the same blue uniform with a silver stripe running along the seams of the outfit. Most girls had their hair tied back, except for that one girl, Cynthia, whom I met at the previous night's dinner. She was one of the prisoners who were, like me, forced into Trinity guard training; the timid one to be precise.
She left her hair loose because it was too short to tie back. Just looking in the room, I could tell that she, like most of the others here, had little combat experience. Cynthia already seems to be quite popular, laughing with a large group of people sitting in one of the elevated sparring squares. I'm guessing her behavior the night before was due largely in part to Kai's commanding presence.
I find Aster, one of the other prisoners, in the group as well, already flirting with a couple of girls who seem to be falling for his charms. That is until they spot Kent and Silas in the corner and walk away to talk to them, leaving Aster heartbroken and rejected. I don't blame them, those two are fairly attractive and a good bit taller than Aster. Not to mention, they both don high ranking Trinity guard uniforms that can sway any girl.
They're standing about five feet away from the other guards, all against the matted wall by the sparring squares. I make eye contact with Kent and we exchange a friendly wave, Silas just stands there, offering me an uncertain smile, until he returns to his happy persona to finish the conversation with the girls. I see the brunette of the two turns around, whispers something into her friend's ear, and they both giggle before blatantly turning back to me, then back to the boys. If you're going to gossip at least make it discreet.
I see Grayson, the more unstable of the prisoners, in one of the shooting stalls. He's throwing knives with deadly accuracy, landing in the center of the target every toss. While the others in the room seem inexperienced, it's clear he's been in actual threatening situations before. His face seems to be in a constant scowl, wishing there was something standing in front of the targets. I make a mental note to remember him.
It was quite an advanced facility for a world filled with poverty, but it's not like I expected any less. I see Aria hugging her knees in a corner next to one of the unoccupied dummies. I stride towards her, being sure not to make any unnecessary eye contact with other trainees. I accidentally bumped one on the side, and he demands an apology. Not wishing to initiate in any pointless physical activity, I just keep walking, but shout an insult towards him in my head.
I reach Aria and she looks up at me, her white hair shifting a bit as she lifts her head. I expected some level of fear in her eyes, especially when she was just a little girl surrounded by people ready to beat each other up. Instead, her eyes were indifferent, like she's seen places like this, people like me, hundreds of times.
Still not sure how to approach a child, I stand there awkwardly for a bit, wondering if this is worth satiating my curiosity.
"Hi Aria," I smiled a toothy grin, trying to sound as friendly as I possibly could. The tone feels foreign, unfitting coming out of my mouth. I kneel beside her, my back resting on the punching dummy bolted to the floor. This is awful, do people smile all the time? My cheeks start to hurt, so I dropped the smile into a bit of a smirk instead. Much better. Aria's face flickers in recognition at the sound of her name, and she hesitantly sticks out her hand, pointing at me.
"Cas-telle?" she questions, her voice soft and timid. I nodded my head in approval and a hint of a smile etches across her face. She draws back her hand and buries her face into her knees, leaving enough room for her eyes to still make contact with mine.
"I saw you here all alone, so I decided to join you. I hope you don't mind," I try my best to sound as polite and calming as I could. The last thing I need is this little girl to feel intimidated and freeze me. But, of course, she could be useful in the future. Besides, I don't mind her as much as the others, at least she doesn't seem like the type to gossip.
"I know you don't have anyone else here your age, so, I was wondering if you'd want to be friends with me?" she looks at me blankly before giving me a goofy grin, biting her bottom lip so I can see one tooth missing along her top row. I assume it fell out.
Her eyes shift past me, and her smile falters a bit. She retrieves back into her knees, and I turned around to see what caused her sudden change in attitude. Standing above us, there was a tall, muscular man; his build was about two times the size of mine. He wore a different outfit from the rest of us, instead of a silver stripe, his uniform is lined with a golden one. His buzzed head is tilted down, shooting me an angry glare. The unsightly wrinkles around his eyes are only accentuated by his scowl, revealing his age.
"Move, little girl," he spits, "I want to practice." His voice was low and gravelly, like the villain in a movie. I look down the row of dummies, and see more than half of them are still open. I meet his gaze, irritated that he interrupted my one-sided conversation for something so frivolous.
I respond, "There are plenty of other dummies down there." I point along the row of sand and weighted styrofoam, "so no."
His eyes widened in disbelief, I could tell that he wasn't all that used to hearing that word. "This is the one I always use, so move. Now." He says.
"And I said no," I mock his attempt at intimidation. He stands straight, and I stand in front of him, both of our arms crossed, neither one refusing to back down. He had a good foot on me, which isn't surprising since my height has always been on the average side, but I was confident I could still take him.
"What's your name, initiate?" he asks, warning plaguing his voice. His eyes narrow as he looks at me closer, I don't give him the satisfaction of so much as a flinch.
"Castelle. I would ask for yours, but frankly, I don't care. Now, if you excuse me, I was in the middle of a conversation." The man's face hardens, gives me another once-over, then walks to another dummy on the other end before uttering one more line.
"You'll know my name soon enough, Castelle." He spits out my name like it was venom.
I turn back to Aria whose face was wide with astonishment. I sit back down across from her, and I can see the grip she had on her knees loosened a bit, easing with my company.
"Don't let jerks like that walk all over you, you got that, Aria?" I say, trying to make light of my recent little spat. She nods once, tilting her head all the way back with enthusiasm, and a cute little "hmph" on its way down. Her nose scrunches a bit, when she looks at me, like a rabbit that just imprinted on its owner.
After a couple of minutes in uncomfortable silence, uncomfortable on my end at least, I finally decided to continue the conversation.
"You know, I saw you on the news." She tilts her head in question but suddenly remembers what happened that day and retreats in shame. I hesitate before continuing, "James told me that our... powers are revealed when we're under emotional or physical stress. When I saw you, I thought you looked scared, so, if you don't mind me asking, why were you in danger in the first place?" I ask, softening my voice to make sure she feels safe enough to at least give me a proper reply.
Her eyes grew sadder the more I spoke, unshed tears pooling around the bottom lid, glistening in the fluorescent light.
"M-my sister," her voice wavers when she speaks, emotion flooding behind it. Her hands tighten again, her body trembling as she breathes, "S-she was caught by some K-Karmas," she stutters, "I-I found her running and... and," she gasps for breath as she tries to continue. All I could do was wrap my arm around her until she calmed down, shushing her and saying that it was okay if she didn't continue.
She nods her head in understanding and wipes away the water streaming down her round cheeks. Whatever happened wasn't something she was ready to talk about, and I respect that. It's not as if I want anyone asking about my past either. After sitting with her for a bit, asking simple question after simple question, I've come to the conclusion that Aria isn't the biggest speaker, unless of course, the questions regarded her sister.
"What was her name?" I asked.
"Scarlett," she replied, a smile lighting up her face, "It's easy to remember because of her hair."
"Your sister has red hair?" I ask, and she nods. "Like the sunset." I didn't get a chance to ponder on the thought, because before I knew it, the time was nine thirty and someone made their way to the center of the room.
"Stand up cadets, center of the room. Now," he commands, his voice booming through the facility and echoing off the walls. Immediately, every trainee that had a choice in their being here stood up in unison, fear striking their faces. The five of us who didn't hesitantly followed, eyeing each other as we walked. We sat down, scattered around the half circle of initiates, and Cynthia offered me a faint smile as she meets my gaze.
Grayson doesn't look at anyone, just sits on top of one of the sparring squares with another number of trainees, looking on while leaning over the protective railings lining the sides. Aria finds a seat towards the back, and I sit a few places behind her, separating myself from the rest of the group. I slide my back down the wall, stretching one leg out and resting an elbow on my bent knee. I tilt my head back, turn it to the right, and rest it on the wall, not looking at the man as he speaks.
"Most of you are here because you excelled in the mental and physical entrance exams to become a select twenty-five trainees." A round of cheers and applause erupts around the group. High fives are exchanges alongside slaps on the back, when the man in the front shoots a glare around the room, immediately settling everyone down. Whoever this guy is, people know him, and they're scared of him. "The others are here because they showed immense promise on either the physical and/or mental spectrums, more so than some of you." Everyone turns their head around, pining for a glance at the people their superior claims to be so remarkable. Most aren't impressed, others turn their heads in intimidation.
"Unfortunately, for those that do know me, this will be the last time we'll be seeing each other. For those who don't, that's one less name you need to learn. From now on, the person you'll be answering to is General Jacoby Jordan," the man steps back and waves his hand in some sort of grandiose gesture, presenting the man that he was referring to.
Him stepping away gave clear sight to the man with the familiar wrinkles around the eyes. Jacoby is the person that I fought with earlier, more importantly, he's the person I insulted. I insulted my superior. I hear Aria let out a high pitched yelp when she recognizes his face, and see her inch backward a bit. His gaze meets mine, and he smiles the hateful smile, "Morning cadets, my name's Jacoby Jordan."