Rowena was grateful for the full moon that night as she and Kieran made their way to their meeting. The cobbled streets were familiar– she’d walked them all her life, and hoped to walk them for the rest of her life– yet there was something strange in the air.
She supposed autumn always felt that way, a little bit.
“Who was that man?” Kieran asked. Despite his apparent concern that they would be late, he set a languorous, easy pace. In his mouth he sucked on one of the candies he’d stolen from her shop, and handed another one to her.
“This doesn’t count as returning stolen property,” Rowena said, but took the sweet anyway.
Kieran shrugged dismissively. They’d been friends for many years. “He looked mysterious. And too handsome and foreign to be from Tunehlan.”
Rowena’s ears and cheeks burned as she thought of the stranger and quickened their pace. “I hadn’t noticed. We were closed for the day anyway.”
“Have you noticed any more strangers coming about?” Kieran asked.
“You’d better ask Eleanora. She’d know more.” Artemesia’s daughter was only a few years older than they were and was learning her mother’s trade at the Inn quickly and well. If anyone knew anything about strangers in town, it would be her.
Kieran shrugged. It was dark and hard to make out, but Rowena thought she saw him blush. “Wonder if the Farmhand’s gonna be there tonight.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Rowena said with a laugh, but had a touch of defensiveness in her voice. Sorel, whom Kieran called the Farmhand, was a young woman from a farm outside of the city. Sure, Farmers were a dull sort, but Rowena felt a kind of kinship with Sorel: they both knew who they were and what they were meant to do.
Kieran threw up his hands. “Aaaaanyway. I’m sure it’s just normal travelers coming for the Selection ceremony. I wonder if it’s true, what they say. That towns… feel better when the Heartstone is activated.”
Rowena just shook her head. Until they’d chosen their Classes, the Heartstone was just a rock. They’d find out what it ‘felt’ like soon enough.
They’d come just a few blocks to the main square, a relatively large, open space with a low, bubbling fountain at the center, and at the center of the fountain, the large, unwieldy black stone known as the Heartstone that erupted out of the water’s surface and stood thirteen feet tall.
Every town had one– every town of consequence, anyway. Rowena shuddered as she imagined what it must feel like to have your sixteenth year come and go without being able to activate your Class. Sure, it was possible to do so later, but you’d be so late in leveling up and acquiring Abilities… she herself had no time to lose.
It had been far too long since the shop had a proper Merchant in it, and Rowena was anxious to begin expanding.
“I should have invested in the Inspire Promptness Ability!” Martha, a large, buxom woman with wiry grey curls, boomed from the door to her home. Behind her, a large fire crackled and they could hear the other sixteen year olds chattering excitedly.
“That’s not a thing,” Kieran protested as she ushered them into the house. “At least, not for Stonemasons. Stone is just like… there. All the time. It doesn’t go anywhere, and it’s not late for anything. And it’s not like you’re a—”
“--at all in need of anything but our respect for you to get us here,” Rowena cut in hurriedly, cursing Kieran’s lack of tact.
Inspire Promptness was one of the silly, throwaway abilities that could be acquired by a Teacher, or a Parent. Rowena wasn’t entirely sure if Kieran had been going to say ‘Parent,’ but she wouldn’t put it past him, and it was a sad and sensitive subject for Martha and her husband Mason, who had been unable to conceive.
Martha smiled warmly at Rowena and cupped her cheek with a fleshy and kind hand. “Dear Rowena. I admire your continued commitment to our little sessions.”
“I’m still determined to go with Merchant,” she said as she followed Kieran into the house.
Sorel and the twins Melody and Mattie looked up at them with a wave from the table in the center of the room.
“Melody, Mattie,” Kieran said cheerfully as he slid into a seat next to Melody. “Farmhand.”
Mattie shot him an annoyed glance as Sorel frowned and muttered, “Townie,” before turning back to Mattie, who was reading to her from a stack of papers about the benefits and drawbacks of various Subclasses.
The five of them were the ones who were turning sixteen in time for this year’s Selection. Rowena was once again grateful for her late birthday– only a day before the Selection began– which would give her an edge in her Leveling as the youngest initiate that year.
“We shall see, we shall see,” Martha replied and shut the door.
The front room, for dining and visiting with guests, was larger than most families’ homes thanks to the success of its owners, who were both in-demand, talented Stonemasons. It was made of– of course– beautifully worked stone that lined the floor, walls, and ceiling and acted as a wonderful insulator in the winter months, especially as they were covered with beautiful rugs, one of which Rowena herself had sold to Martha last winter.
Rowena, with her merchant-to-be’s eye always scanning items around her for value, considered for the millionth time how useful it would be to find a life partner whose Class and Subclasses would complement her own, like an Coinmaster or Tinker. Think of the shop they could run! She continued fantasizing as Martha began her regular lecture on the benefits of continuing a family legacy, strictly directing her thoughts away from a certain MAGIC USER stranger and towards a sensible imagined OTHER, perhaps an Craftsperson or Traveling Salesperson.
“...mistake like Rowena here,” Martha said a few minutes later.
That jolted Rowena out of her reverie. “What?” she said defensively. Merchant wasn’t just going to be her Subclass, it was her legacy! Martha knew that!
“I know you’re determined to select OTHER - Merchant,” Martha said kindly, meeting her cold eyes with warm brown ones. “And I know why. But— who has an idea of what I’m thinking?”
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With a slight pause, she looked around the room at the others, who shifted uncomfortably. As far as they were concerned, Rowena was the lucky one– she knew what she wanted and had good reason for it.
Martha sighed. “Because family legacy isn’t the only aspect to consider!”
Kieran snorted from his seat next to Melody, muttering to the copper haired girl, “Then why is that all we’ve heard about for weeks?”
With the ferocity of a hawk zeroing in on prey, Martha glared at Kieran. “Kieran, thank you for volunteering. Can you think why Merchant might not be the best subclass option for Rowena?”
“Because Merchants tend to be fat foreigners?” Kieran said impishly, and Melody stifled a giggle.
Martha paused and shook a finger at him. “You’re a cheeky one, you are, but as it happens– you are sort of correct.”
Kieran and Melody gaped at her. Her twin Mattie, who was sharp as a tack, stated cheerfully, “Merchants do well in large cities, port towns, and places along the border of nations who need to facilitate trade.”
Rowena recognized it as a direct quote from the Merchant pamphlet.
“Unless Rowena intends to leave Tunehlan,” Martha said with gravity, “I fear her Abilities will go to waste. One must match the Subclass with the circumstance, as well.
¨Yeah, but you can add more Subclasses,” Melody said flippantly.
“Not easily,” Martha said, shaking her head sadly. “It’s hard to explain until you’ve experienced it, but–”
She held up her own wrist and pulled her simple cotton sleeve down to her elbow. On her bare skin, she had three sigils stacked. They represented the following:
Main Class: OTHER
Subclass: Stonemason
Subclass: Spouse
The sigils were a deep, dark black color and had numerous little curls and flourishes and dots growing off of them to make a complicated bracelet around her wrist.
“I gained the Spouse Subclass automatically when I married my husband, but I have chosen not to indulge in the distraction of other Subclasses. That means I’ve been able to level up my two Subclasses significantly,” Martha explained.
Rowena was sure she’d seen Martha’s sigils before, but hadn’t paid much attention to them. She’d never learned to read them as effectively as Mattie had, but their boldness and complexity, having grown and shifted as Martha had leveled up and learned a significant number of Abilities, indicated that she was quite advanced.
Indeed, as she studied Martha’s wrist further, she realized she probably had higher levels on her two Subclasses than anyone she knew– even her father had only achieved Level Thirty Three in his Soldiering (since he’d retired young), though by the time her mother had died they’d mutually achieved Spouse Level Forty Nine, the second highest possible. Tomas was also a Level Twenty Six Parent and had actually gained a Shopkeeper Sigil a few years ago after many hard years of struggling to keep their family afloat in his wife’s shop. He was still stuck at level Seven, though, which Rowena thought she’d probably surpass in just six months or so of hard work. That was why it was important to gain Subclasses in which you had a natural ability.
She saw Martha’s point, but still. “I—”
Her words were lost in the sound of a massive explosion from the main square. Kieran jumped up in surprise, Sorel wrapped her arms around Mattie and covered her ears, and Melody let out a terrified shriek as the house rocked with a surge of energy.
Rowena herself backed into a corner of the room, looking in fear for the threat as her ears rang. She realized that the front door had blasted open, and Martha, who had been standing near it as she gave her lecture, was kneeling on the floor clutching her heart. Her nose was bleeding freely and so, to Rowena’s horror, were her ears and eyes.
“Are you okay?” Kieran shouted far too loudly as he leapt over to Martha’s side.
Their instructor moaned as rivulets of blood streamed down her face.
“J-just a–!” Mattie shook her way out of Sorel’s grasp and ran into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with a pile of linens Rowena recognized.
“No, wait, you can’t! Those were special ordered from–” Rowena gulped as Kieran, Mattie, and Sorel shot her bewildered looks. “Sorry.”
Mattie dove to work nursing Martha, who seemed to be coming back to her senses. “Mason–” she called out, her voice thick and wretched.
Kieran looked up from her side and shook his head at Rowena. “I didn’t think he was home yet.”
Rowena looked outside. The entire town had to have heard the blast, and as her hearing returned, she could hear shouting and general mayhem coming from the town square.
She looked around. Kieran and Mattie were busy tending to Martha, and Sorel stood next to Mattie with a hand on her shoulder protectively. Melody had shrunken into herself, pulling her legs up so she could hug them from her seat on the stone bench.
Alright. It had to be her.
“I’ll go see what’s happened,” Rowena said with a nod. She reached for a cup on the table and downed the remaining water, grateful for something to soothe her suddenly dry throat.
The town square was complete pandemonium. Her neighbors strode about, arguing and demanding answers of anyone who might know what had happened. A large group of them stood in a circle near the Heartstone.
“Do… do you know what happened?” Eleanora, the innkeeper’s daughter, grabbed Rowena’s arms tightly. Her face was smeared with blood like Martha’s.
Rowena shook her head. “No, I was with Martha– are you okay?”
Eleanora nodded, her black hair fanning out around her like a halo. “All of us on the town square were the worst hit, so it had to be here. But I don’t know what could have happened… was it a kitchen accident?”
With a jolt, Rowena realized that there was no damage anywhere. No crashed carriage or exploded rubble or anything of the sort. What she did see sickened her, though she couldn’t tell you why, exactly– the Heartstone was now laced with glowing reddish orange veins that pulsed and shifted. She wasn’t sure if she actually felt its power or if it was just her mind creating a sensation in her body to match the changed stone, but it seemed like she could feel waves coming off of it.
Although she didn’t want to go any closer, she felt compelled to join the circle near the Heartstone, fearing the worst.
Indeed, when she got there her worst fears were confirmed. In the center lay a body– Mason, Martha’s husband. The man’s eyes, ears, mouth, and nose were all bleeding like all of the other adults’, but the rest of him was also distorted, unnaturally bent and broken.
“He must have been walking across the square to home when it happened,” Eleanora whispered in horror.
Rowena frowned. Mason had always been a gentle man, quick with a candy or friendly word for the neighborhood kids, or indeed, anyone who wanted one. His loss would be felt in the community, and deeply.
She shook her head to stem back the tears that threatened to pour out. She had to find her own family– hopefully, they were safe at home and out of range of the– whatever it had been.
An unusual sound pierced the air— a familiar voice, but raised to a pitch she’d never heard. Calla!
Rowena looked around frantically, pushing her way out of the circle around Mason.
It was then that she realized she’d been wrong. No, Mason’s death wasn’t her worst fear realized.
This was.
Calla sat in her beautiful green dress on the edge of the fountain, holding something too horrible for words in her lap.
Tommie. Bright, brilliant, beautiful Tommie, their baby brother and light of their life. But the light was gone from him now– his tiny body was akimbo, legs and arms at strange angles and chest caved in like he’d been snapped in half. Rowena felt her heart skip a beat, then two. Her vision swam and sounds muffled around her as she sank to her knees on the sharp cobbled stones.
It was only a moment before she stumbled up again, lurching her way to her sister and brother.
She wasn’t sure if she screamed or not. The only thing she remembered from the rest of that night was the sight of her brother looking like a baby bird fallen out of the nest, and the sound of Calla’s haunting shriek.