Violet Asher was not a lonely child. Not because she had so many friends; she had none. She knew how to be well-loved and liked. Her mother had made her practice such things for her entire life. As a child, she just didn't see the point. She didn't see the point in much of anything, especially other people. So she wasn't lonely, although she was alone. She wasn't content either. Or sad, or happy, or anything at all but profoundly bored. She wasn't without emotion; she simply encountered very little to inspire most of it.
Other children could make her angry or irritated, and they often did, but this didn't do much to combat her boredom. This was, perhaps, the reason her spirit never grew. Most children, at five years old, were beyond excited to wear their first empathy glove. The glove that could read the spirit of its wearer and measure their growth. In most homes in any city across Oasis, a child's fifth birthday was perhaps the most exciting of their life. They would eagerly slide the glove on their dominant hand and hold their breath as the crystal embroidery began to glow.
No one knows how to grow their own spirit at first, but that doesn't mean they don't do it. It's different for everyone, but it's always something that matters to them. The essence of the soul grows when it is fed. Heroes grow when they help people and hunters grow when they track or catch prey. Even before five, people are drawn to the deepest desire of their spirit. They at least learn a little about their calling or have practiced something related to it in some way. All this usually amounts to two or even three of the ten embroidered runes glowing with spiritual energy as they put their glove on. From that point, it's easy enough to pinpoint their unique method of growth. The next rune will begin to glow a little at a time to indicate they are on their way to their next spiritual degree. With a little trial and error, it's rarely long before a child knows exactly how to grow. It's rare, but not unheard of.
Violet was the exception. Some children were second degree and others were third. Occasionally a particularly talented or active child would even have an ability, or a manifestation of the spirit. A unique power formed by the calling of their spirit to aid them in the task. When Violet was five and first wore her glove, it remained unchanged. Each rune was dull and gray, indicating she was without a single degree. The few extended family members in the room gasped, some in shock and others in horror. Her uncle insisted the glove was faulty and would have gone to the arcanist to request a new one, but her parents stopped him. They weren't as surprised.
The glove wasn't the only way to tell if someone's spirit was growing. This was because abilities weren't the only way growth manifested. Accumulated spiritual energy would also affect various attributes. These were things that aided a person in answering their spirit's call. Typically, the enhanced attributes were strength, dexterity, charisma, vitality, and mentality. Some more specialized callings required a sixth attribute, but this was always unique and rarely came up. This was why, when Violet's glove revealed her to have no degree, her parents weren't surprised. They had hoped, of course, but they didn't hope enough to throw the typical extravagant party a five-year-old would expect. Because Violet hadn't changed at all. She had passion for nothing, and her attributes were clearly not being enhanced.
With good intent blind to the possible results, Violet's aunt suggested she hold her glove to the wall. For anyone with an enhanced spirit, even a first degree, this would result in their attributes magically etching themselves into the wall in a circle around their hand, not unlike a tree. With a thought, the wearer of the glove could move to their manifested abilities, erasing their attributes and displaying descriptions of their unique powers. Removing their hand would return the surface to its original state. When Violet complied, however, nothing happened at all. She truly was completely powerless.
Limiting the invites wasn't enough. It was a small town and everyone knew about it eventually. Especially since, to prevent dangerous misunderstandings, everyone was required to wear their empathy glove in public. A simple look at a person's dominant hand, Violet's left, would immediately reveal both their degree and approximately how close they were to advancing. Once they reached tenth degree, they would receive a yellow-tier glove and leave their white-tier glove behind. Violet's white glove covered in gray runes announced her status to the world.
Everyone in the small town had something to say about it. It bothered almost everyone for some reason, whether it incited concern or contempt. In fact, only one person in the town didn't care at all if her spirit ever grew. That was, of course, Violet herself. Violet didn't care about much of anything. She just read her books, ate, and slept. She was profoundly uninterested in anything at all, and the only emotion she could summon in response to the various concerns and bullying was irritation and contempt. Not at being bullied or at unfair treatment. This was her response to being bothered at all. To Violet people were doing one of two things. They were annoying her, or leaving her alone.
Of course, she was bullied. Yelled at, insulted, and treated as worthless trash. Her neighbor Alex visited her to show the widening gap every time he advanced at all. Even Alex's mother sneered at Violet when her own parents weren't around. Years passed with Violet knowing her spirit would never grow and it hadn't worried her once. The only thing that did interest her, even a little, were stories. Stories she never finished. She didn't like the endings. She wasn't even sure why she liked the beginnings so much. But it was the only thing that interested her.
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She'd tried many things over the years. Her parents hoped something, anything, would help her spirit grow, but nothing ever did. She felt no connection to anything at all. Farming, baking, singing, and even writing did nothing at all. She was bored beyond belief. All the while, contempt for her grew. People thought she was cursed by God. Some even thought she was some sort of monster or fairy changeling from the mist. Whenever a harvest was poor, or a beast attacked the town, a few people would blame her. The unnatural child without a degree. She was aware of this, but she never bothered to correct anyone. What did she care if they thought such things? She didn't even care if they turned out to be true.
When she was eighteen and still without a single degree, a mist storm ravaged the farmland and nearly eighty percent of the year's crops were lost, just before harvest. People were scared. The town wouldn't be able to pay their taxes. They'd have to ship their most promising youth to the Mist Walker Academy instead. Some of the cruelest elders, spearheaded by Ella, Alex's mom, suggested abandoning her to the mist. They had no proof she was to blame, but in times of desperation, they figured in the worst case, they lose a useless mouth, raising the town's taxes and providing no value. In the best case, they would be rid of the cause of their misfortune. It didn't help, of course, that Alex himself was likely to be sent to the Academy if they couldn't pay.
Violet would never survive on her own, but they didn't care. Violet was nearly bored enough to agree, but spite for the people making the decision for her was enough to fight it. Her parents had a lot of difficulty connecting to her, but they still loved her. So they made a compromise. Exploring the mist, after all, was one thing they had never tried. So they convinced the elders to meet them in the middle. Violet would accompany one of the few Mist Walkers in town on their next hunt. If the mist wanted her back, it would take her. This appeased the elders who assumed she would die, and gave her parents hope that her escort would protect her.
Every town was surrounded by the thick, orange mist, all year round. It was toxic to breathe without a mask, and the creatures inside were deadly. But someone had to explore them. To hunt the most dangerous beasts and fae before they found the town. To find meat, resources, and fuel for the train. Mist Walkers were quite good at this, and any still alive long enough to be stationed in a town were very good at staying safe. The man escorting Violet was newer, a ninth degree green tier, or twenty-ninth degree overall. But he was kind and promised Violet would make it home safely.
She did, to her parent's relief and the village's shock. The shock was unrelated to her safe return, of course. Rather, it was because, as she emerged from the mist, six runes on her white glove were glowing. She had left without any growth at all the night before and returned with six full degrees of growth. Alex had reached ninth degree by eighteen, only three more than Violet earned in a single night. She was still weak for a grown woman of eighteen, but whatever she had done, her spirit had gorged itself.
This wasn't the only thing that shocked the town, however. Because, while Violet did return safely, she returned alone. The Mist Walker never made it back. More experienced Walkers blamed his low level, while others blamed Violet, claiming her presence distracted him and he'd had to sacrifice himself so she could return. Violet was fairly tight-lipped about the issue herself, which only served to feed the conspiracies. She claimed to not remember what happened, but she had grown faster than anyone had ever seen. Most suspicious of all was her shift in attitude. She became, well, friendly. She helped anyone who asked and asked for little in return.
Her parents actually worried she had been replaced in the mist but... it was a positive change and if she had been swapped, no one wanted the original back. After a while, most people stopped asking questions at all. Most people. A few resented her more than ever. But her status on the wall revealed her name and normal attributes for her degree, and most suspicions faded after a while.
But, of course, they never found a solution to their ruined crop. Two people were going to be sent to the academy. Ella, Violet's neighbor and primary detractor, never trusted her change of heart. Then again, she was never going to like Violet regardless. A long history predating her birth guaranteed it. So, considering Violet was in the mist when her spirit finally grew and Ella's resentment, Violet was chosen to go to the academy. A small consolation prize for the fact that her son was being sent as well.
In the months since she entered the mist, Violet's growth had again been stagnant. Whatever she had done to grow, she had failed to repeat it in any meaningful way. Many worried she would be too weak for the academy, including her parents. Her family went to Ella, begging her to rescind her recommendation and vote. They went to every elder on the town council, in fact, but it seemed her fate was sealed. She would be the only sixth degree woman at the academy.
Her parents, troubled and only beginning to finally connect with their eccentric daughter, wept as she climbed aboard the train. She had been late and they had been unable to find her that morning. When Ella came, dropped off her son, and left, they began to worry Violet had fled. So when she arrived at the last moment, they had very little time to say goodbye. As such, neither of them noticed her left hand hidden in her pocket, hiding her white glove.
It wasn't until the train was moving and the escort from the academy was introducing herself and asking to see everyone's status that she revealed it, and all nine and a half brightly glowing runes.
That same day when Ella was found hanging in her now empty home, everyone assumed she couldn't cope with the likely death of her son. It appeared she had hung herself as soon as she returned from the train. It was a quiet town. No one noticed the signs of struggle. No one would have thought to look. While they were lowering her body to the ground of her home, Violet was on a train headed halfway across Oasis, giving Alex a friendly smile.