NADYA

For the pre-Trials, specialized cloaks must be made for each noble child, which was why Missus Yarna had Ponnie and I buy the black feathers. They are elaborate pieces of work that must be designed and started Moons before the Trials. Because the noble children are tested every cycle, they usually have an abundance of cloaks laying about that get more and more intricate. However, Kaki has never cared about such a thing. He says the glamour of the Trials hides its uselessness. He lets me design it. At first, I rejected, but the temptation was too great–an indulgent fantasy of mine, so his cloaks are often feminine-looking, but he does not mind.

So I have decided not to use these feathers Missus Yarna had us buy. I do not want to be reminded of that man.

Kaki and I sit in the Youth Library. It is smaller than the Library of Kirill, but we are not permitted there. It’s about three times the size of Kaki’s chamber and located in the Iya Wing, with ornate windows and lots of candles. There are only four tables since, as this place is sectioned off only for the noble children, there is no need for any more than that. No other servants are here. The noble children give me odd glances because my class is not permitted to read but are reassured when they see the skins on my lap and the needles in my hand, far away from their wordy texts. I would not do such a thing anyways. Because I am associated with Kaki, I am often associated with his faithlessness. This worries me sometimes, but I enjoy Kaki’s company too much to mind.

Kaki sits across from me, staring blankly at the text of histories that will be required of him at the Trials.

“At least try to focus,” I say.

Kaki remains silent. He is adamant that the subject of history in general is severely lacking in ‘substance’ and his tutor, Enlightened Alranath can ‘only mediocrely describe the War that he himself fought in. Do you not see what is wrong with that, Nadya?’

The flier is still in my chamber. I have yet to give it to Kaki. That man’s lover taught herself to read and write. I am sure Kaki knows blasphemous sorts of peoples, and the thought of it sickens me. If he found out about this woman–I’ve already forgotten her name–he would probably spend the next few Moons sneaking around, asking himself why she did it and what she learned until the festival rolled around. Incriminating himself.

Kaki is Pure but unEnlightened. But some call him Soulless, for they say that he is only untouched by the plague because he was not supposed to be in this world in the first place, that the Suns rejected him long before his creation and still he miraculously survived.

He and I both hate this particular rumor, but Kaki is faithless. Only the Tyn are faithless. And he encourages others in the City, I know it. He may even believe himself righteous for seeking illegal and immoral scholars in the City.

No, I know he does not think that. Kaki does not ever believe himself righteous, but he was always treated as the exception. He must realize that most will never be the outlier, the Savior, the Prophet, or the subject of various cults. The rest of us must live our lives according to the ideals we were raised, for that is all we can count on.

“Nadya?” Kaki says. “Are you alright?”

I realize I am squeezing my needles too tight in my palms. “Yes, sorry.”

“You know, we are sort of the same now.”

“What?”

He gestures at his burnt arms, then his cheeks. They have healed a bit in the few Moons we have been resting, but they are still crimson and prominent. And he does not cover them up. “We sort of match, don’t we?”

I go red. I realized this long before him. After I got done worrying about his being hurt, those couple Moons ago, I’d come back to his chamber and overheard a few of the other servants calling us ‘kindled kin.’ But they were laughing, and I can only imagine what they thought. That he looks just as demented as I, that the burns were punishment for his Soullessness. If that is true, what are mine the punishment of?

“I suppose.”

“You really shouldn’t be so self-conscious of your face, Nadya. It adds… character.” He smiles, as though he truly believes that was a compliment.

“Don’t sound so demeaning.”

“I’m not! I’m being serious.”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“I have burns now too, see? It’s not so bad.”

“You are such a boy.”

“You always say that and I don’t get why.”

“Well, see, then you don’t understand.”

“I just said I don’t.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying for your big, important Trials? You’re bothering me.”

“Well, you’re bothering me. Bother, bother, bother, all from that side of the table.”

We go back and forth for a little while when the doors to the library swing open. I don’t even notice Lightened Roe approaching us until she is right beside our table. She wears a beautiful lacy frock of brown skin and weaved flowers, her hair done up, and weaved bracelets around her wrist.

I shut up and glance down at my cloak and needles, while Kaki waves slightly. “Uh, hi?”

I kick him from beneath the table. “Hi, Lightened,” he adjusts. He raises his palm to his forehead in greeting. “What are you doing… standing there… by me?”

Suns.

I expect Lightened Roe to laugh like she did when I spoke to her but, instead, her lips part and her face glimmers with confusion and disgust and she stares down Kaki. She glances at me for a second before her gaze flitters back to him. “I just wanted to let you know that my next recital is today, at Kirill’s highest peak.”

“Okay,” Kaki says blankly. “Thanks?”

Her eyes fall to me again. “Would you not like to come see it?”

“No?”

“Well… alright,” she says. “Bye, Lightened. Bye, Nadya.”

However, she does not leave. She just sits on the other side of the library, not quite far enough to keep her from seeing my head hang in embarrassment.

Kaki snorts. “That was weird,” he says, somehow unaware of the fact that he speaks so loudly she can still hear him, despite all his smarts.

“Yeah.”

“You’re acting weird.” Kaki sets down his book, one with many, many firey words.

I hesitate. This is much more embarrassing than it should be. “I mean… I like music. I really do, and I don’t often get to hear much and, earlier, she asked if we wanted to listen to one of her recitals but I was not sure if you would want to, but the music is so lovely and–yeah. I’ve been wanting to go. I suppose.”

Kaki’s brows raise. “Okay. Sure, let’s go.”

“Really? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or–”

Kaki scoffs. “Have I given you the impression that I dislike music? No, music is relaxing. Not really my thing, but relaxing. You should have just asked me.”

“No, I mean uncomfortable around the other noble children.”

“I truly do not care about them, Nadya.” He still has not lowered his voice to a whisper, like I have. “They care more about me than I them.”

“Yes, but–”

“We will be going at Kirill’s highest peak,” he says, in a very declaratory style. Quite literally everyone stares at us and whisper amongst themselves. We are disturbing the peace. Lightened Roe smiles at me after hearing his words and I look away. “Okay, Nadya?”

“Okay.”

“But now that means you have to listen to me talk about the workings of the plague, and it’s—what was it? Effects on the current state of Mecraenton society.” A common question at the Trials.

“Nevermind, I revoke my request. Please, spare me.”

“It’s okay. This is horrendously boring to me too.” He leans in close, too close. So that our noses are almost touching. I pull away quickly. Touches of those in different states of their Purity is not prohibited, but it is seen as weird unless you are a lover, but Kaki could never be my lover. Love is too indulgent of a word for me to ever spare on Kaki. Many Ospry do not find lovers.

It is also a personal philosophy—friendship does not have to be physical. You can abstain from giving yourself over completely to someone while sharing minds.

“What are you–“

“Especially because my books are so much more interesting,” he whispers into my ear. “Var-Nashi’s diary, I think she was talking about a plague–I don’t know, a plague prototype? And–“

“Kaki. Not here. Everyone can hear you.”

“Right. Sorry. Keep sewing, Miss Nadya.”

I roll my eyes as he goes back to staring at his book, completely uncomprehending of anything it contains.

***

“No,” I say. “No, no, no, Suns. Kaki! Why do you even have that?”

I try to be serious, keep my face straight, but doing so ends up backfiring and I snort quite loudly as Kaki pulls out a frilly blue dress from his wardrobe and presses it against his chest, swaying a little to test the flowyness.

“I was curious how girls dresses fit,” Kaki says. “It’s not that weird. I have many questions and I seek to answer them.”

“Kaki!” I laugh. “That did not answer my question.”

“Questions about the weather. Questions about why the other boys act like girls are some Sun-sent miracle, no offense. Questions about—oh wait! Can I tell you about the prototype plague?”

“Yes, but I am not wearing that.”

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“Why? It’s nice.”

“You know why, Kaki.”

“Suns, Nadya, letting yourself have nice things does not mean you are vain or–“

“Kaki.”

“Come on, Nadya, it’s a recital. You have to look pretty.” I ignore the implication that he does not think I’m pretty.

“No, Kaki. we barely got Missus Yarna to let me accompany you. If she found out I was wearing some other girl’s dress–”

“Well, we did not have to tell Missus Yarna you were going at all.”

Missus Yarna, of course, did not like the idea and for good reason. She’d been told of my fasting, but fasting is not simply abstaining from food. It is abstaining from what is not necessary.

I told Kaki this and, somehow, he convinced me to cave. He always does. I cannot say ‘no’ to him and he cannot say ‘no’ to me, therefore we encourage each other whims no matter how illogical it may be.

Missus Yarna knew this would happen, but she's put up with this for cycles. She just stared at me in disgust and said, "Nadya. I cannot disrespect the demands of the nephew of Enlightened Everleigh, and I know whatever he wants from you he will demand. But know that he holds you back from your Purest and it is unfortunate to watch. Do not compromise your morals for a boy. Be smart, Nadya."

I know. I know.

“I know that face,” Kaki says. He puts away the dress. “You’re okay, Nadya. You’re allowed to have wants, okay? And Lightened Roe invited you. Not me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I don’t get what really sets us apart,” he says. “I cannot see that you are less Pure than me. Our minds are the same aren’t they?”

“For now. But then my veins will turn black and my eyes will become bloodshot and I will want to tear your arm from your shoulder. You will be more useful to society for far longer than I.”

“That is anything but true.” He puts on one of his formal tunics and takes out his pants to be straightened up. I just watch. “Anyways, the prototype plague? I mean, it’s just a hunch. Based on small details in the text, like the way that she describes the hospital residents. They aren’t rabid, per se, but they are ‘increasingly hungry and thirsty for unusual meals’ like… I don’t know what this is but it was called voltaisa. Maybe that was human meat?”

“You’re cherry picking,” I say.

“A little,” he admits.

I glance out the window. Kirill is nearly risen. “Well be late. Sit down. I’ll do your hair and we go.”

***

There are multiple theaters in the Fortress, but the Iya Theater is one I have never attended. I have only ever been to the Theater of Ospry and that was only once as a birthday gift from Missus Yarna.

I would not be permitted there on my own, for the productions in the Iya Theater are only to be seen by other people of the Iya class. The topics of their productions are often seen as ‘too sophisticated’ or ‘sensitive’ for minds such as my own. However, recitals are public and unpolished, held in the General Outdoor Theater, and happen much more frequently. Anyone of any Purity can enjoy the arts, but if certain members of certain classes are found frequenting these recitals too often, they will be barred away. This is why I typically do not attend.

Even though it is a General Theater, is it grand. The stage is the same large wooden platform used for the Trials and other events, rolled out by various servants, the back of it coupled with various handiworkings for special events. Large velvet curtains hang from rusting metal poles–velvet is a lost import from Damaskraga, from before the War and when they closed their borders to us forever. Kirill’s bright rays illuminate the place through crystalized light filters.

Kaki and I take a seat in the bleachers, carved from the ground up. We make sure we situate ourselves in the back.

“You see that little-mini-roof thing?” Kaki whispers. “There are vents there. They let in the rays of Kirill and Gerasim with crystal orbs that can be controlled from ropes and pedals at the back of the stage there, filtering the light at certain angles, kind of like what happens in the Temples. So you can have lights on one dancer or actor or singer, you see?”

I nod as I process the surprised faces of children and adults, noble or otherwise, at seeing us here. Even in the back, I can hear the whispers.

“Are they lovers finally? Look at the way he leans into her….”

“That’s not allowed. Isn’t her Soul really fractured? She’ll Turn and kill him.”

“Yoria doesn’t think so.”

“Yoria just sits there, unthinking, all the time.”

“Did you see his burns? They’re horrible.”

“He was supposed to be cleansed.”

“Still horrible.”

“They look like hers.”

The lights brighten suddenly, the crystals turned away so that all the rays of the Suns point to the center stage. There are to be four today. A song by Barl, a monologue by Shenani, a dance by Chrysan and her ‘Company’, and a song by Roe.

Lightened Barl plays some sort of drum with a red rim and sings a hypnotic, lullabatic song. It immediately lures me in, the rhythm feeling slightly out-of-sync to his voice, but intentionally so. I find myself leaning forward. And, to my surprise, so does Kaki.

When it is down, there is a round of light applause. “Thought this wasn’t your thing?”

“Nothing is ‘not my thing,’” he says. “Thinking you have to have a thing closes your mind up to many possibilities.” He speaks slowly and deliberately, like I am much younger than him.

“You hypocrite.”

He smirks. “I know.”

Lightened Shenani is equally as enjoyable, a monologue about a strained relationship between a mother and her daughter. Kaki wonders if she wrote it and if it is autobiographical. I could ask Walas, for Lightened Shenani is his master.

There is a brief intermission and then the stage is set up for Lightened Chrysan and her company–Innokenti children, almost noble, that study in dance and choreography. A group of about twenty with Lightened Chrysan, of course, in the center. In the corner, there is another girl playing a lyre as their accompaniment.

The scene opens with five of the dancers lying in various twisted positions on the stage, their arms and legs spread at unnatural angles. A few stand behind them, hunched and clutching their stomachs. They wear rags not so dissimilar from the frocks I am allowed. Their hair is matted, their faces painted with fake grease.

Kaki says, “Hm. Interesting set-up.”

“Shhh.”

The lyre-players begins, a soft melody.

The dancers who are hunched stutter to life, moving rigidly and moaning, like they are in a lot of pain. The ones on the floor squirm and spasm, each clenching and unclenching their hands in a very specific pattern. This goes on for a little bit, as the lyre begins to increase in volume and tempo towards a dramatic pause. One of the dancers on the floor spasms more than the others. Melodically, but very visibly. She does a spin or something to get to her feet. Her jerky moves are almost too realistic as she claws at her own skin, twitching to the ever-accelerating lyre.

Then she lets out a scream. From offstage, another girl runs in with a bucket of blood and pours it over her head. I let out a gasp with many other members of the audience.

She claws at her fellow dancers, who I now realize must be the people of the Tyn class, the lowest of the low.

The plot soon becomes clear.

The plague takes the first girl violently. Her Turn results in the death of another, a depiction that I am sure is more graphic when it is polished for performance, but left to interpretation for this recital. She is shackled, as is customary, but not sent to any Butcher. The poor Tyn ravage on her like savages. They do not send her to the Slaughter House to have her skin and organs be cleaned as proper, do not let the Fathers within the Slaughter Houses bless her Soul, but feast on her right then. My fasting stomach churns.

The authorities then come to take care of the situation, offering the starving free rations from one of the Shops, a gesture deeply appreciated by the Tyn. The authorities and the Tyn bond through beautiful duets, but the focus is especially on one authority, portrayed by Lightened Chrysan, and a Tyn girl. It’s clear they are supposed to have more going on between them.

A solo dance progresses their relationship, leading to them eventually near-kissing on stage, much to the disgruntlement of many of the adults in the audience.

But then the Tyn girl goes back to her friends, praying to Gerasim and Kirill that their Souls be Pure so they may be given better opportunities. Lightened Chrysan sneaks out to see this Tyn girl often, once bringing a silverleaf laurel with her, indicating her hope to marry her. I squirm uncomfortably at this section, not missing the two glances that are thrown towards me and Kaki.

She refuses Lightened Chrysan’s plea for marriage and departs the stage. The Tyn peasants, the lover’s friends, come up with a plan to kidnap her without the lover’s knowing. They fail to do so for their lack of wits and foresight in a section of two separate dances, leaving Lightened Chrysan beaten down and crying while they just barely keep themselves from succumbing to their animalisitc, plague urges. Lightened Chrysan has a very good face of despair.

The performance shifts to show the perspective of the Tyn, a dance of the collective, depicting them as hopeless and feeling as though abandoned by Gerasim and Kirill.

Even if they are they bad guys, you cannot help but feel bad for them.

Eventually Lightened Chrysan’s lover returns but it is clear that the plague is getting to her. She tries to find Lightened Chrysan, to spend her last moments with the other girl, but she is gone, terrified of the other Tyn. So the lover ravages with her friends once more, but it is all the more dreadful. I wonder if Slaughter Houses exist in this false world.

Lightened Chrysan comes back to the Tyn, asking for her lover after a dance of self-reflection. When it is clear she’d died, she cries and decides to forgive the Tyn for their sins, for their near abuse of her. She builds them their own homes and helps them do favors for Gerasim and Kirill, helps elevate their standard of living.

It ends with her on her own, dancing the same dance she did with the Tyn boy, all alone.

The lights dim and the curtains close.

The performance is long. I do not know how long, but tears are shed by the end, whispering to each other about its elegance and its message.

“Wow,” I say.

“Wow,” Kaki repeats, his voice a little strained.

“That was beautiful,” I say. “Really, really beautiful. I did not know you could tell stories like that through dance.”

“Yeah.”

Someone announces that there is to be another intermission before Lightened Roe’s performance, given the length of Chrysan’s.

“Wow,” I repeat. “The blood—that was shocking. And, wow. I don’t know.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you not like it?”

“I liked it, I just… I don’t know. I think it was told from the perspective of someone who has never seen the people in Mecraentos City before.”

“What do you mean, Mecraentos City?”

He frowns and gestures vaguely at the stage. “The poor.”

“Those were the Tyn.”

“Well, sure they could be, but all lower classes live in Mecarentos City. How do you know those were the Tyn specifically?”

“I don’t, I suppose.”

“They seemed like monsters,” Kaki whispers.

I wait until he looks me directly in the eyes. “I do not think she depicted them as monsters. They were anything but, actually. The Tyn dance, the one where they were all falling to the feet of Gerasim and Kirill. They were looking for retribution.”

“I guess that’s accurate,” Kaki says. He runs a hand through the hair I worked so hard to keep back. It curls messily. “But, I don’t know. And the way they ate–well, I suppose they do that but–”

“You’ve seen that ravaging happen?”

“Sort of,” he says, “but it’s not that disgusting, like it was shown here. It’s just said. And it’s hard to pinpoint why because they do have people like the authorities to rely on and they do have farms and stores that will provide them rations. I don’t know. It’s a complicated thing I’m feeling.”

I just nod. I know I do not truly understand.

“Nadya, I really want to tell you about the City. I tell you everything but not that, because I can tell you get uncomfortable, but I really think if you want to learn anything you have to face the uncomfortable. You have to ask the uncomfortable. People look at me and they want to learn about me because I make them uncomfortable, so they ask me uncomfortable questions and do uncomfortable things, but it is all to learn. That’s why I cannot truly be mad at people like the Father and Lightened woman from Sal Gasve.”

“I suppose.”

I’m silent for a long while. I have long known of this philosophy of Kaki’s, but his words carry a weight they do not usually today.

Something falters within me. With each person that tries to ascend Kaki into Enlightenment, as he is supposed to, I wonder how that contradicts that prophecy that says there can only be three. Maybe we are all curious what will happen to the current Enlighteneds if Kaki were to ascend. The uncomfortable realization that we do not know, that to even think of the consequences of any of us truly achieving Purity is hypocritical. We cannot all be Pure.

I’ve not thought that before. I’ve not let myself.

I think about the flier back in my chamber, the festival for the orphaned children. How they would feel if this were a performance put on for a celebration of their own.

I don’t know.

Kaki is not encouraging blasphemy. Well, he is. But not really.

“I doubt Chrysan meant to depict anything as wrong or insensitive,” Kaki says. “What counts as wrong or insensitive, anyways? Who decides such fickle words? Is that not all subjective?”

I think not about the performance I’m about to watch for Lightened Roe, but the burns marks on my face, the ones reflected in Kaki. If I had not been saved and brought to the Fortress, I could have been one of the Tyn children that Lightened Chrysan depicted.

But is that not a reason to cherish the life I have now, to not taint it with what ifs? What if I’d grown up an orphan in the City? What if Kaki realizes I am his servant and not his friend and lets me go? What if I had been born a beautiful noble girl, born to dance and play the lyre? What if all my life becomes is the one I was born into, the one that is predicted of an Ospry servant? What if these walls suffocate me, one day? What if I die here, with Kaki or without, never having ventured out once.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” I say. “There is a festival happening in the City. It is called the Fyi Festival.” And I tell him about the man selling feathers on his carriage and the woman who taught herself to read.

I expect him to be upset at me for not telling him sooner, but he isn’t. It almost seems silly that I think he will be upset when I can’t actually recall him ever being upset at me or anyone except for Enlightened Everleigh, and even then it is never true anger. He just asks why and nods at my explanation.

“Do you want to go?” he ventures. "It could be a means of going to the City without having to sneak around."

“I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t know how I’m feeling either.”

“That’s okay.”

“Missus Yarna wouldn’t be happy.”

“She won’t,” he agrees. “But she has long since given up on trying to separate us. I’m here for you, Nadya, whatever you decide. I will probably go to the Festival myself, you know.”

“I know. You are predictable, Kaki.”

***