The Soul Searchers [EN]

Chapter 5

I wake up by the knocking on my door. The sound is booming through my head, like there is a music box in my brain that has just gone crazy. A deep sigh leaves my mouth. I hate it when I wake up more tired than I was when I went to sleep. That knocking again. "Auria." The shrill voice of the director cuts through my brain like a razor-sharp knife. I clutch my head. "Yes, Mrs. Milligan," I murmur.

"It may be your birthday, but staying in bed for that long is not allowed and you know that. Just because you're a Chosen One doesn't mean the rules don't apply to you!"

"I'm sorry. I slept in." I rub my forehead with the heel of my hand, trying to ease my headache.

"Breakfast hour ends in fifteen minutes." I hear Mrs. Milligans heels tapping on the floor. Loud at first, then softer and softer. When I don't hear it anymore, I sigh. I'm never going to make it to get dressed and eat within fifteen minutes. I'm not one of the soccer players. Good start of my birthday.

I shake my head. No self pity, Auria. You're not helping yourself with self pity. With my eyes half closed I walk into the shared bathroom. Sleeping in does have one advantage: I have the bathroom to myself without the other girl screaming that someone used the last bit of shampoo or that someone has to hurry because otherwise they'll run out of warm water. In peace, I let the warm water run over me and rub the sleep from my eyes. Little nerves tickle the inside of my stomach. What will I do if I actually find this boy in the forest today? What would that special training of the Chosen Ones entail? It keeps weird thinking how my life changed in just one day and one night. I'm not the hopeless pupil anymore, but someone with a special gift.

Suddenly, I feel this enormous urge to get down to the breakfast hall. Would the others have heard it already? How would they think about me now? Would they stare at me in amazement instead of laughing at me as soon as I step into the eating hall?

Hastily, I shower, get dressed and stumble down the stairs so I can see my classmates. The breakfast hour had just ended and I already regret my action when Chayenne walks out the eating hall and comes right to me. "Too late, little one. So, now you're one of the Chosen One, you are suddenly unable to tell the time?"

At least that news reached her. "How do you know?" I ask.

"All the other Chosen Ones get to hear that immediately."

I swallow hard. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, little one." Chayenne crosses her arms and looks at me sullenly. "Why do you think I am still here? Not everyone is as hopeless as you are. There is a duty of confidentiality, by the way. You are not allowed to tell anyone else, but I think that won't be too difficult for you. No stupid word ever comes out of you anyway."

For a moment, I am flabbergasted. "I... I..."

"See? That's what I mean. See you at the joint training, little one." And with those words Chayenne leaves me, completely overwhelmed. I thought I would see Chayenne less from now on, but the opposite is true. I decide not to let my birthday get ruined by this. My training don't start until next week.

A smile forms around my lips as I breathe in the fresh air. The wind blows in my face gently and I embrace the freedom. "Okay," I say to myself softly. "Where do we start?" I don't this forest that well.

I decide to walk around the Periculum, making sure that I can still see the grand, old building between the leaves.

When I stand in front of the enormous door again, I let out a disappointed sigh. Nothing. What had I expected?

For a while, I stare indecisively ahead. Now what? Maybe I'd better go to the florist after all. Even if I knew this forest like the back of my hand, it'd be still a hopeless task to comb out the entire forest by myself. I follow the wide forest path toward the city, as I'm folding my middle finger over my index finger. Please, let that old lady be there. She will surely know something about that boy.

Crack!

With a jerk, I turn around. I hold my breath as I'm walking toward the bushes where I heard the twig break. With a fast pounding heart, I extend my arm. Slowly, I close my fingers around a thick branch of the bush. I take a deep breath. Come on, Auria. On three, you pull that branch aside. One, two... "Krakra!"

I let out a scream of terror when suddenly a magpie flies out of the bushes and whizzes away right over my head. I stumble over my own feet and feel a painful jolt shoot through my spine as I fall backward onto the hard ground of the forest. "Stupid bird," I grumble. I scramble to my feet and knock the sand off my shirt. On the back is a brown mud stain now. Fortunately, I didn't wear my school uniform. Mrs. Milligan would have been furious.

Slowly, I turn on my axis as my eyes scan the forest. When I don't notice any strange things, I continue my way to the town.

Once I arrive at the florist, I face the next disappointment: the old woman is not sitting there. With a sigh, I sit down on the bench. I plant my elbow on my leg and use my hand as a headrest. My eye catches a little boy across the street who proudly accepts a very large ice cream from the ice cream farmer while his mother charges for it, laughing. Jealousy bubbles up inside me as the mother takes the little boy by the hand and a lump forms in my throat. I miss my own parents. I miss my mother who always read me bed time stories and I miss my father who teasingly held his arm above his head with in his hand the drawing set I wanted so badly. I miss the hour long hugs of my mother when I'd had a nightmare and I miss the wall of my fathers office which was hanging full of drawings I had made for him. Somewhere in the back of my head I hear my mother saying to my father that he really needed to put away some of my drawings, because otherwise there wouldn't be enough place for the new ones. But my father always found a space for my new drawings, without having to put away the older drawings in a drawer where he couldn't admire my creations. I smile at the memory, but the lump in my throat grows as I realize I can't get the vision clear. It is a blurred spot with different colours, similar to what you see when you accidentally throw the cup of water you clean your brush in over a sheet of paper.

All of a sudden, I feel the huge urge to paint, to capture the image, no matter how vague, on canvas. Determined, I get up from the bench. During the day, the owner of the hobby shop sometimes lets me paint there, so if I just leave the painting there, I won't have to smuggle anything into the Periculum. I will never get caught.

With a brisk stride, I walk to the end of the street and turn left. In the distance I can already see the hobby shop looming. It is ideal that my favourite store is on the corner of the street. If I see anyone from the Periculum walk on the streets, I can easily disappear around the corner and walk down the other street.

The hobby shop is getting closer and I could swear I can already scent the smell of paint and turpentine. I wonder what new works they have for sale. I'll probably get tons of inspiration from them. Inspiration with which I'm not allowed to do anything with. With every step I take, I'm getting more nervous. I am about to break an important rule, but I can't control myself anymore. My fingers are starting to itch and I imagine what it would be like to get a paintbrush after all these years and to let my creativity flow. Will the sound of the brush, moving across the canvas softly, have the same relaxing effect on me as it had before?

My hand is already on the door handle when I see in the reflection of the glass that someone is standing behind me. It's a boy. He has black hair and pitch black eyes...