The oak door closes behind Evelyn. Villagers line the benches in the gallery. She bows to Elder Issac and steps into the corridor. The silence surrounds her. No interruptions. Only a quarter mark. No time to lose focus. The corridor beyond is stark. Her eyes latch onto the only object in sight. A dagger rests on a pillow atop an oak stand. Her fingers curl around its hilt. She lifts it. Balanced. Her index finger drags along the edge. Sharp enough to rend flesh from bone. Movement flashes in front, and her stomach drops.
“You can’t be serious.”
Glints of steel, hundreds blur through the hall. She looks to Elder Issac, his blank expression giving no hints as to the task’s objective. Perhaps this blade for parrying? No. She would be skewered. She reaches out and removes the pillow to check the oak beneath. The stand’s markings glow with power. Kneeling, she traces them with her fingers, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. No noticeable effect. Should she prick her finger for blood? What else can she do? She pricks her finger. Too easily. The steel torrent all the more menacing now. She smears a few drops on the sigil and watches.
Nothing happens. There must be a trick. Otherwise, this is just an execution. Her heart pounding in her ears drowns out the silence. She confronts the storm. Would she make it if she sprinted? If she dove? No. Even that would cost her. She locks onto the stand once more. Maybe a single drop is not enough?
Maybe she needs more bl-
“Time,” Elder Issac’s voice booms out in the silence.
No. She was too close to fail! She returns the dagger and pillow. Approaching Elder Issac, she lowers her head.
“I needed more.”
He doesn't answer, leaving her in the dark.
“Join the observers.”
Her brows furrow as she exits the large door behind him. She enters the adjoining room and takes a seat. Her little sister’s name grabs her attention.
“Emily,” Elder Issac smiles.
She watches Emily stand before the trial. Her short brunette hair is tied back. Posture firm. Her gangly limbs betray that awkward stage of puberty. As it begins, Evelyn cannot help but smirk. Maybe her leftovers will help her sister pass. The crowd holds its breath. She sees Elder Issac’s brows raise. Gripping the bench, she resists the urge to leap into the trial. No. Emily would know that it would be impossible. She should have a little faith. Evelyn would give anything to see what Elder Issac is seeing.
A commotion draws all eyes to the other side. The crowd stands and she follows to the tail end of the corridor. The noise in the alcove rises in volume as she rushes forward. Obstructed by bodies, Evelyn weaves through, visions of her mangled sister plaguing her mind. Clearing the crowd, she finally spots Emily. Evelyn’s eyes scan for blood or any steel additions. Her hair unruffled, hazel eyes intact, and her face unblemished. Her dress is no worse for wear. But how?
Emily turns to the crowd and smiles as the applause begins. Evelyn brings her hands to her mouth, cupping the sides to cheer along.
“YEAH EM! YOU GO GIRL!”
The crowd echoes chants of their own. The clapping and voices drown her out. Evelyn smiles as her sister stands proud. She is one step closer to joining the circle. Emily waves to the gathering of joyous faces, beaming at the chants.
“EMILY! EMILY! EMILY!”
“WOOOOOOO!”
“YEEEEAAAHHH!”
Elder Issac enters view, holding up his hand to silence the gathering. As the noise dies, he speaks.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
“It is a glorious day that one of our Initiates succeeds in an Elder trial. Any who pass will be honored by the circle with a celebration upon the conclusion of the day’s events.”
He lays a hand on Emily’s shoulder, whispering to her and pointing to the exit. Emily leaves, and Elder Issac returns to the entrance of the trial, calling for the next Initiate.
“David”
Evelyn overhears hushed praise of Emily as the villagers return to their seats. She watches the next initiate step forward. The sigils still burn in her mind. His trial ends faster than she expects. Elder Issac calls the end, just like hers. It takes a special someone to join the circle. Her gaze flicks back to the door on the far side. Where is Em now?
David is the last Initiate of the day, so responsibilities return to mandatory. Evelyn takes it upon herself to cover for Emily. A surprise for her success. Leaving the Hall of Initiates, Evelyn follows the throng of workers into the afternoon air. The breeze is a welcome embrace after the stuffy hall. The first of Emily’s chores presents itself as Evelyn strides into the wash house.
How did Emily turn off the blades?
She assists Sister Anita with the laundry. She rolls up her sleeves and takes the wet clothes to hang on the line.
“Sister Anita, do you know the secret to turn off the blades in today’s trial?”
She clips a dress to the line, awaiting the answer to her question for over a candle mark.
“Ah, I heard about that. Emily’s having a celebration for passing Elder Issac’s trial. She has a good head on her shoulder. Doesn’t she?”
“Well yes, but how di-” she begins.
“Evelyn, you are quick on your feet. You need to help with the celebration.”
Another voice interrupts her. A woman not much older than her, the gold circle pinned to her bosom indicating her Elder status. Recalling the most recent Ascension, Evelyn remembers the woman standing before her.
She frowns at the interloper, fidgeting with the shirt in her hand.
“Elder Tessa, I am covering for Emily’s absence, I don-”
But before Evelyn can continue making her excuses, Sister Anita speaks up.
“Oh, go on, I can handle the wash and the line. It sounds like Emily needs you.”
Sister Anita flashes her a wink. How sweet! Evelyn returns the wink and gives thanks as she hurries after the retreating Elder Tessa. Keeping up with the Elder’s stride, she nods along to Tessa’s praise of her sister. Each compliment twisted into thanks for The Circle. Is she taking credit for her sister’s hard work?
The bragging only ends once Evelyn is welcomed into the kitchen by Brother Gile.
The room is bright and colorful, a mix of every adult age group. They interact with one another like lifelong friends, their voices jovial and unrestrained. Evelyn forces a smile as she sets down trays of food. She continues her role as waiter to the ravenous bellies of the circle. How long have they been waiting to eat? The trays and wine glasses empty as fast as the two of them can set them out. Replacing the salted meat tray, Evelyn eavesdrops on an Elder’s discussion.
“She’s progressing nicely, it won’t be long now.”
“Right you are, she is an adaptable girl, I hear a few are willing to step down for her already.”
Evelyn smiles as she envisions her sister’s ascension ceremony. She is making a name for herself. She should congratulate her in person. When she creates a gap in the schedule, Evelyn exploits it to speak to the lady in question. She brings Em a slice of the cake she made, knowing it is close to her sister’s favorite.
“You passed. I am proud of you, Em.”
Emily’s cheeks redden as she takes a bite before looking back up at her big sis.
“Thanks, Eve. It was actually really scary. I am glad you came, even if you are working.”
Emily scoops a fork full of the vanilla meringue cake and offers Evelyn a bite. She quickly bends to sneak the bite. The airy marshmallow texture melts on her tongue as she lets out a satisfied sigh. A clink of silverware on the rim of an empty glass informs her of a refill request. Smiling sheepishly at Em in apology, she excuses herself to attend to her duties.
Half a candle mark later, the door opens and chatter ceases all at once. All eyes turn to see the Village Mother enter. Evelyn catches her eye before it flicks to Emily, and Mother makes her way over. Adorned with pearls, jewelry, and an oversized green shawl, she doesn’t take her eyes off Emily as she stops before her table.
“You did it again, you are quite the talented young lady.”
She walks to the other side and Emily stands to give her a hug. Their embrace lasts only a few moments. Mother pulls out a candle with the number 4 and places it in the meringue slice. She snaps her fingers together, the sound echoing in the oppressive silence as the wick ignites.
“Tell me child, what led you to have such faith in yourself?”
Emily pauses, clearing her throat before fidgeting in her chair and answering Mother’s question.
“It was… m-my faith in Elder Issac. I.. um.. didn’t think he would let me get hurt.”
Her words are like a wave that breaks the dam, the silent Elders finally reanimating as they begin to clap. What does her faith in Issac have to do with the daggers in the trial? After a moment of applause, Mother raises her hand to silence the audience, and once more, silence blankets the hall. Mother lifts a glass and pours herself a sip of wine before raising it in a toast.
“In recognition of young Emily’s accomplishments in previous trials, and her trust in the Circle. I am elevating her from Initiate to Mother Candidate. Let us toast and celebrate this feat of faith.”
Glasses rise and the red-tinted liquids slide down the throats of Mother and Elder alike. The… Next… Mother? Evelyn smiles and catches her sister’s eye, putting her hands together to make a heart. Sister Anita was right. She does have a good head on her shoulder.
The conclusion of the event leaves Brother Gile and Evelyn to clean the Celebration Hall. The daunting task of sweeping crumbs and mopping the large room drags out the marks on the candle. Once finished, dinner has long since ended. Evelyn swipes some cured meat from the cold cabinet. The blue glyphs glow as she closes the door once more, reactivating it. Her fingertip traces the line, clockwise and counterclockwise. Her achy legs carry her outside. Her stride slows with the weariness of the late hour. Returning to her sleeping quarters, she sees Emily slouching on her own cot, reading a book from the library.
“Hey Em, you have had a big day… Mother Candidate huh?”
Emily closes her book and sets it on the nightstand, lifting her candle to look at her big sis. The flicker of concern on her face makes Evelyn refrain from her snarky statement.
“You look exhausted. How did your day go?”
And at that moment, the day stopped being all about her successful little sister.