Lexan's Pledge (Starbright Novellas) (2 page)

I wish there were a way to show Trea how I could give her things she doesn't even know she needs. I could fill a spot she won't even admit is empty.

But all I can do is crawl under the blankets and try to sleep the night away.

September 11, 2066

We studied this date once in history class, as part of a long list of tragedies.

I think the real tragedy is how it used to be a sacred day of remembrance, but now nobody even remembers why. Humanity tortures itself, then celebrates the horrible crimes year after year with memorials. Until one day a new, even more horrible crime is committed and everyone moves on.

What would the world be like if everyone simply got what they deserved?

…With liberty and Justice for all…

from First Leader Lakessa’s private journal

included in Firene’s secret papers

I wake up too early. My head feels heavy, as though dreams are gathered there, but as usual I don’t remember any of them.

Some minister I’ll be, with no prophetic dreams to tell my congregation.

It’s Monday, my desk calendar says. Which means I survived another social Sunday. And that I have a counseling appointment today. I’ve always seen Counselor Sanfred more often than most of his charges, but since Father died, weekly visits have been a mandatory norm.

At my house, depression claims its own chair in the dining room.

I get cleaned, throw on clothes, and eat, all without seeing or hearing a sound from Mother’s room. Our house used to be bustling. Crowded.

Then Aitan was partnered. And then Pasia. And then Father died.

When I go, I’m afraid Mother won’t last.

But I can’t stop to think of that now. I have my own demons to face, in Sanfred’s small office. He greets me with a genuine smile and a mug of coffee. I accept it, even though I’ve already had some. It’s bitter and black, which suits my mood just fine.

“So I got another slap in the face last night,” I start without being prompted. I relate the conversation I overheard, leaving out the names. Sanfred could figure them out if he tried, but I don’t like to gossip.

“Tell me,” says Sanfred as he adjusts in his chair, “when or how did you first start thinking about the possibility of love within your partnership to Astrea? What makes you think you’re well-matched, despite the discrepancy of the charts?”

I sigh. We’ve touched on this before, several times. I actually brought it up myself, after Pasia pointed out that in other partnerships, a Libra and an Aries would never be matched like the prophecy matches Trea and me. But I still haven’t been able to explain my reasoning with enough detail to satisfy him.

“I just feel it, that’s all. I don’t love her now - that would be ridiculous. But I know I could.”

“There was no moment of epiphany? No truth that showed itself, perhaps in prayer?”

“Definitely not in prayer. I’m going to be a horrible minister, you know.” He doesn’t realize how much he’s rubbing it in that I haven’t been shown
any
kind of prophecies or visions: such a marked difference from last year’s two ministry students.

“We can talk about your ministry later. But let’s stay on the topic at hand.”

I put down the mug of coffee and lean forward. Maybe I can give this one more shot, and he’ll leave me alone about it. “There wasn’t any one moment when I thought I could grow to love her. It’s more like a thousand moments. An accumulation of a thousand smiles. Smiles that aren’t directed towards me yet, but the future possibility of that. A thousand looks of pride - again, not for me, but for her mother, or for Isa. Trea is capable of so much in a partnership. I just thought…”

“Yes?” He smiles, just not willing to let it go.

“I thought I could be there for her, and she could be there for me. With someone like Trea, there’s so much light, so much fire. She could shine into my darkness, you know?”

“As long as she loved you, you could be happy?”

“That sounds stupid, doesn’t it.” Hearing the words out loud, from someone else, shows me this.

I can’t tie my happiness to another person. It has to come from within me, or it would never last. I need to become stronger.

“Not stupid, no. When love is pure and true, it can indeed banish darkness. But when it is impure or untrue, like a forced partnership might be, then darkness will leach into the relationship. This is my concern. If Astrea is not willing to partner with you, your partnership will be troubled.”

“Troubled?” I laugh, not bothering to hide the bitterness. “If something doesn’t change between us before Choosing Day, Trea will make my life miserable.”

“I could always prescribe something to reduce your worries.”

I glance at him, just to be sure, but his eyes are smiling like always. Sanfred is on my side. He knows the effects of the pills and he doesn’t want me under anyone’s control - certainly not Keirna’s.

He’s a believer.

And I’m sure that’s why he really wants me to be with Trea - for the harmony implied in the prophecy.

“You need to make friends with her. Even though the prophecy will seem to rush your partnership, you need to make it clear to her that
you
would never rush her. Many couples are still fairly arranged by parents, you know. If Astrea can come to you on her own terms, and set her own boundaries, then I believe love can grow between you, just like any other partnered couple.”

I close my eyes and rub my temples. That sounds great, but how am I actually supposed to
do
it?

“What should I try first?” I ask, finally. Our time is almost over.

“Be there for her. Be subtle, of course, but if you become a real presence in her life, rather than an abstract threat or merely the face of the prophecy, then perhaps a friendship can grow. Once you are friends, then I would suggest finding out her reasons for disliking you in the first place.”

“Even Isa doesn’t know that. She told me once.”

“Well, perhaps Astrea needs to determine the true answer before she tells anyone.”

I nod, moving to stand. I’m not sure my nerves are strong enough to know why she dislikes me.

“And Lexan? Be very wary of using your power of charm around her. I feel that Astrea especially would not accept this. She would see it as an insurmountable betrayal, I believe.”

Classes will be starting soon, so I nod again and turn to leave. I’d like to think that I would never use my power to make someone do something they didn’t want, but I’m not sure if that decision will always be mine. Anyways, there’s no danger of using my power with Trea if I can’t get even close enough to look her in the eyes.

The day’s hours slip by, noticeable but easy. I go through the mechanics of classes and training while Sanfred’s advice runs a constant loop through my brain. I notice Trea, of course, but she never even glances in my direction.

How can I possibly be present for her if she goes out of her way not to notice me?

Then I realize: this means she probably
does
notice me. And I can’t help the real grin that molds itself to my cheeks for the rest of the day. Mother even laughs a little at some of my jokes as we clean up from dinner and head to the Ministration Room.

Tonight is my weekly rotation to help with the ministry by assisting Head Minister Saloman during the prayers. Then I stay behind while everyone else files out past the altar. I crease the ceremonial linens carefully and put the prayer books in order, marking the pages for tomorrow’s ministry with strips of woven blue cloth.

The room empties quickly, but I’m only watching one person.

Trea stays where she is, head bowed to her knees, as the others shuffle out. She doesn’t seem to notice her father place a hand on her head. A private, worried look crosses his face, before being quickly replaced by the public smile he keeps for the rest of us. Her father and I have that much in common.

He nods at me politely on his way out, casting one more glance at his daughter, solitary on the bench.

I almost wonder if Trea is staying to talk to me, but she gives no indication of even realizing I’m there. Finally I have nothing left to clean, so I leave the room so she can finish her prayers in private. But I don’t go far.

I decide to wait in the corridor and catch her on her way out. I don’t know what I’ll say, but surely I’ll think of something. Libra charm and all that.

I wait. And wait. And wait. Maybe she fell asleep.

I risk it and peek into the room. My heart drops to my knees when I find it empty. There is no way she left the room without me seeing her. Absolutely no way.

The room is quiet, and the altar candles flicker with my movement as I turn, scanning the small room.

Empty. Silent.

I sink to a pew, the blood rushing to my head as the air abandons my lungs.
Where did she go?

Then a tiny noise catches my attention, near the altar. Scratching, maybe.

Before I can register what is happening, Trea pops from the blank wall behind the altar and freezes, staring directly at me.

The panic on her face shocks me into a sort of hysterical amusement.

I step towards her, still not sure what to say. “Hello, Astrea,” I start, cursing myself for not figuring this out better. My voice sounds stiff and formal, like we don’t know each other.

And we don’t, not really.

She darts her eyes between the door and me as though she might take off in a dead sprint, and I stupidly reach out to grasp at her arm.

“I’ll not tell anyone, of course,” I start to reassure her. My fingers begin to slide down the smooth fabric of her tunic and she yanks her arm from my grasp like she thinks I would hold her down.

She fixes a glare on me and it steals my breath. The hatred I see in her eyes, magnified in the wild candlelight, is so much more than I can take.

I turn and beat her to the door, confusion and embarrassment and anger crowding my thoughts. I’m struggling not to actually
run
away from the revulsion I saw in her face.

The Common Area is dark and cold without the main daylights - I’ve stayed out too long. But the cooler air starts to calm me, and I slow down, giving my brain time to catch up to my fleeing heart.

I circle the perimeter of the great room, heading towards the corridor leading home, but a steady clicking on the rock floor makes me pause. I shrink further into the shadows, shouldering into the uneven rock walls.

“Astrea!” A voice pierces the darkness, and all my jumbled emotions focus into one - fear for Trea. My muscles tense as though for a fight.

I can just barely make out her slight form, bowing to Keirna. They exchange a few words I can’t hear, then Trea moves away, heading straight towards my hiding spot. Keirna doesn’t move until Trea has scrambled past me and down the corridor leading to the Living Quarters.

Then she, too, begins to walk towards me, her shoes clicking on the rock floor. Nobody but Keirna wears shoes that echo like that.

As she nears me, I pray for invisibility. There is absolutely no explanation for me to be out like this - it’s late, and I’m supposed to be home.

She stops about twenty or so feet from me and waits a beat before continuing along the curve of the room, towards the Leadership Complex, where her own home is.

I’m finally beginning to breathe again when her voice bounces back to me, as clear as if she were standing only inches away.

“Good night, Lexan. Sleep well.”

My voice couldn’t answer even if I knew what to say. The blood in my ears is louder than her retreating footsteps, and I can barely focus on the uneven rock floor long enough to find my way home.

My lungs remain frozen with anxiety until I’ve shut and locked the door behind me. The logical part of me warns that my fear of Keirna is irrational. But the photo of my father hanging next to the door is a reminder that my fear is also very warranted.

October 22, 2066

Today we put the dreamless herbs in Mother’s tea and all three of us went to see Evangeline. She was angry that we had all left the safe house in a group, but then she admitted she needed to talk with each of us.

She looked at all of our tea leaves and read the star charts for Clota and Aisa today, too. She nearly fainted when she pieced them all together.

Together, our three charts show how the end of this world will come about, and how we three sisters will rebuild humankind from the ashes.

I want to believe her. We all just want the war to stop before everything everywhere is destroyed.

But I’m still too scared of this. I don’t understand it.

from First Leader Lakessa’s private journal

included in Firene’s secret papers

“What are you reading?” I ask Mother as I join her at the breakfast table. She passes the butter for my bread without me asking, and I smile when her eyes meet mine.

“Lakessa’s journals again. I keep feeling like there’s something I’ve missed. We know so much, yet really we know next to nothing about what you and Trea need to do.”

“Maybe there
is
more - in Firene’s lost journal,” I answer, stating the obvious. Of course there’s more. And it’s lost.

Mother nods, absently flipping through the loose pages that were torn from a smaller journal. The edges are frayed and the paper is fragile - over one hundred years old now.

“I can’t help but notice Lakessa was about the same age as you and Trea are when all of these entries about saving the world started. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“The stars teach us that nothing is coincidence, Mother. You know that.” I use my stern minister voice and she smiles, her deep blue eyes laughing a bit. It feels so good to make her smile.

“Has Head Minister Saloman given you any new tasks lately?” She changes the subject, tucking the stolen pages back into their envelope.